Fic Post: To Know Who I Am -- Chapter 12
Title: To Know Who I Am
Author: firefly_124
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Angel
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: SS/OFC
Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to my beta reader, ubiquirk, who also made the lovely banner, my Brit-picker, saracen77, and my alpha readers, bluedolfyn and willow_kat.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from this. If you think otherwise, there's this nice room in St. Mungo's for you.
A/N: This will be the last installment for a little while. The next chapter isn't quite ready to be sent off for beta-ing yet, and there's Deathly Hallows coming in just under a week. Then I have a ficathon entry due in another fandom. So while I hope to have chapter 13 posted by the end of July, it may be a near thing.
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Chapter 12
As they walked to Minerva’s office, he reflected that it was a good thing she wore fairly traditional, if darkly colored, robes to patrol in Hogsmeade. Her usual garb for patrolling on the grounds would have been as noticeable as the dressing gown, if not more so.
When they arrived, the Headmistress wasted little time before getting the Head Watcher on the Floo.
“Celia, it is a relief to see you up and about so soon,” the man said once the initial greetings were out of the way and all had assumed their seats. Due to the quantity of participants on this side of the conversation, the Watcher once again was the one whose face appeared in the flames.
“Thanks, Giles. Actually, thank Willow.”
“She’s not here just now, but I will tell her you said so.”
“Did she explain what I’d done?” She looked a bit nervous as she asked this.
“Yes.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Whatever possessed you?”
She slumped her shoulders a little as she answered, “It was just instinct. Not a particularly good long-term instinct, obviously, but in the short term, at least it kept them out.”
“Have you any idea what it was they wanted?”
“Actually, that’s why we came to talk to Minerva. We just discovered something that may shed some light on that.”
“What would that be?” asked Minerva, bringing Celia’s focus back from her Watcher to Hogwarts.
“I think I was a secondary target,” she said, “and was also being used as a weapon of a sort.”
Minerva pursed her lips. “What brought you to this conclusion?”
“I decided to try and look at the problem without me in it first. If I’m not here the night of the vamp attack, then there is only one possible target: Severus. Then, fast forward to last Friday, and there are people playing dress-up as Death Eaters attacking someone. Again, regardless of who they actually attacked, it would be a fair bet he’s who they were after.”
“But you are here, Celia,” the Headmistress pointed out.
“And that’s where it started to not make sense until we discovered that there had been a magical transmitter on my cloak. By my guess, it had been there since the vamp attack, probably intended to end up on Severus since they’d have expected him to be alone.”
“And where is this object now?”
Celia made a face. “It disintegrated once I’d discovered it. I had a feeling it might be set to do that once it was found, so I tried to cast a reversal to see who was watching it, but I just wasn’t fast enough.”
“How did you find this, Celia?” the Watcher asked.
“One of the house-elves discovered it while getting my cloak from the laundry. When I cast the Revealing Spell to see what it was, it showed me myself, as if I were on camera.”
“And you are quite certain that is how it was planted?” Minerva asked.
“I can’t be sure, obviously, but it makes sense. One of the things that didn’t fit was that these three attackers seemed to know too much. I mean, think about it: Legilimency, the Cruciatus, and the Imperius, all at once? That’s freakin’ overkill, unless they knew I’d be resistant and/or immune to two out of three and not that well-prepared to deal with the third.”
“Not well-prepared?” The face in the flames looked affronted.
Celia shifted her focus again, looking apologetic. “As well as possible, Giles, but, um, no. Sorry, but that simulation doesn’t even come close.” Severus noticed a change in the set of her expression as she continued, “We’d been working under the assumption that it’s just pain, only more of it. But it’s way more. It does something to your nervous system, more than just some sensory overload. Seriously, I’m shocked that I managed even a basic shield.”
So was Severus.
“I see.” The Watcher looked thoughtful. “We’ll have to discuss the training ramifications of that later. Meanwhile, why does this convince you of the timing with which the device was planted?”
“Because all of that came up at the staff meetings the next two mornings after the vampire attack.” She sat back into her chair as if resting her case.
“That does not rule out a leak.” The Watcher fixed a glare on Severus.
“No, but I don’t believe that to be the case. Also, things narrow down substantially when you add in some information they would have to have gotten from a private conversation.”
“How private, Celia? And what information?”
She glanced at Severus, and he nodded to her. This would not be comfortable for her, but he hoped she would not deny him again.
“Private enough, Giles,” she said and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “When they attacked, I wasn’t, as you’d expect, on my way back to my cottage.”
“Oh?” asked the Watcher. “Where were you going?”
She shot a disdainful look at the face in the emerald flames, one that Severus thought was almost worthy of himself.
“I see,” the man said. “You realize this does nothing to reduce my suspicions.”
“I didn’t think it would. Why do you think I started with finding the bug?” She shook her head.
“And you do not agree that this looks suspicious?”
Severus felt a sudden and almost irrepressible urge to wipe that expression off the Head Watcher’s face. He had never tried striking someone through a Floo, but it was a tempting idea. Instead, he held his own features still, knowing they would be quite unreadable. Except, apparently, to her. He shrugged off that uncomfortable thought.
“I absolutely agree that it looks suspicious,” she retorted. “My suspicions are just completely different than yours. I suspect that, for whatever reason, the transmitter was supposed to have been planted on Severus two weeks ago. Instead, they got me and a lot of very different information than they expected. Then on Friday, they went for two-for-one torture with a side of obscure and dangerous Dark Arts knowledge.”
I would prefer to think the order of priority was reversed, Severus thought.
“What do you mean ‘two for one’?”
Minerva spoke up, “Rupert, you were not here. Severus was clearly distraught by what had happened and scarcely left Celia’s side while she was in hospital.”
The face in the flames did not appear convinced. Severus didn’t blame him. If their roles were reversed, he would be similarly difficult to sway. The one point in the man’s favor was that he was clearly concerned for Celia’s well-being.
Minerva turned to Celia and asked, “And what is your theory as to why they would have set up the original attack, then?”
“I don’t know,” Celia admitted. “I’m working under the theory that these people are real Death Eaters who are somehow at large despite proof to the contrary. I mean, it’s not like being dead’s a guarantee someone won’t show up to cause trouble.” She shot a meaningful look at her Watcher. “Ditto for prison. Either that or they’re sympathizers who wish they had been Death Eaters back in the day. Either way, discrediting Severus or trying to get him sacked might be enough of a motivation at the start, or they might have something else up their sleeves.”
“I do hope you are not closing yourself off to other possibilities,” the Watcher said.
“Of course not,” she replied, shooting a disdainful look into the flames. “Becoming too complacent about the last theory is probably half the reason they were able to ambush me like that.”
“And the other half?”
That you thought it was me. I was not even there and I managed to distract you to your cost. He’d been certain of that since she had described the seconds before the attack. She had not said that she thought that first figure was him before it turned, but he was sure of it, and that knowledge sickened him.
“They were human,” she mumbled.
Severus found himself brought up short by this.
“Celia, you can’t … You’re not Willow,” the Watcher said.
“No, really? I hadn’t noticed,” she snapped. “What was your big clue? The lack of red hair?”
“The reluctance to attack humans,” her Watcher replied. “Willow does still manage to defend herself quite effectively.”
“I did at least Stun the one.”
The face in the flames sighed. “I should have either found some way to manage magical sparring practice for you without raising suspicions long ago, or failing that, you should have set something up with one or more of the other teachers once your secret was out.”
And had we not been so caught up negotiating the beginning of a “relationship” at the same time, one of us should have thought of that.
“Then again,” she said, “they’d have known everything I did so long as my cloak was nearby, so it might not have made a huge difference.”
Severus found that thought only mildly reassuring.
“What do you think of this theory, Headmistress?” the Watcher asked.
“I am not sure,” she replied. “For the immediate future, however, I believe that it raises enough questions that I will not ask Celia to leave Hogwarts, as she may not be the sole target of these attacks, and thus her presence or absence would not affect the degree of risk to the students.”
Severus noted with a mix of satisfaction and frustration that sending him away had not, apparently, crossed Minerva’s mind.
“And my request?” asked the voice from the Floo.
“Yes, yes, send your reinforcements.” Minerva waved a hand as if to indicate her surrender on that point.
Celia appeared to perk up at this. “Who are you sending?” Her expression was filled with anticipation, suggesting she already had some idea.
“As I told you before, I cannot send another Slayer-witch …”
“So you’re sending me one of each?” She looked for all the world like a child on Christmas morning.
She should do that more often.
“Willow told you?”
“She said she’d see me soon. Not that ‘soon’ might not mean ‘during summer vacation’ or something.”
The Watcher’s image shook its head, presumably at the appalling syntax of that last statement.
“When are they coming?”
“Madams Rosenberg will be arriving in Hogsmeade on Thursday,” said Minerva, drawing Celia’s attention back into the room once again.
Madams?
“Where will they stay?” Celia asked.
“They will rent a house in Hogsmeade,” the Watcher explained. “Kennedy will take over patrolling the village - with Willow obviously. I think we are agreed that you should not leave the grounds.”
“I was attacked on the grounds, Giles,” she pointed out.
“Yes, but they must have come in with you somehow.”
“Probably.” Her mood dampened a bit. “Will they come up to the school then? Or will I not be able to see them?”
“You will be able to Floo to the house,” Minerva said. “It will be under a Fidelius Charm, by the way, which should help avoid exposing them or you. We should also see about Detection Charms, for there as well as for the school, to prevent any further use of magical listening devices.”
So, this decision had already been made before we arrived. What changed her mind?
Celia winced and said, “Yeah, there’s that. I’m going to have to try to replay everything I’ve said and done anywhere near my cloak for the past two weeks. Wish I’d sent that thing to the laundry sooner.”
A lull fell in the room. Severus watched as she appeared to be starting the process of sorting through those conversations, and so he saw the moment that her expression became one of horror. She turned to face him.
“Severus, when I came to your office the Tuesday after the vampire attack, do you remember if I had my cloak on?”
He thought a moment and vaguely remembered taking it when she arrived. It had felt awkward at the time, and that was probably the only reason he remembered it at all. “Yes,” he said, “I believe you did.”
Her look of horror intensified.
“What is it?” Minerva and the Head Watcher asked in near unison.
“Um … I think we have a much bigger problem than we realized,” she said, a quaver in her voice. “They might not have been looking for random obscure Dark Arts knowledge at all.”
“What do you mean?” her Watcher asked.
“I mean, in that conversation, I kind of mentioned … um … Buffy.”
“What about her?”
“The part where she’s been dead a couple of times and just had a birthday last month.” Celia appeared to be trying to make herself very small in her chair.
If it were possible for a Floo image to blanch, Severus thought the Watcher’s image would have done so. He was quite sure he himself had.
“Did … did you say precisely …”
“No! No. Just … it might be enough to give them ideas.”
“And you’re sure they didn’t …”
“Positive. Nobody and nothing got in or out. Everything got battened down, hatches and all. Especially that stuff. That’s why with the coma-thingy …”
“Still, that was extremely rash and may indeed be the reason …”
“Would one of you kindly explain yourselves?” Minerva demanded.
Celia turned to face the Headmistress. “The first time wasn’t as big a deal. She wasn’t all the way dead, or CPR wouldn’t have brought her back. But the second time, Willow resurrected her. Ergo, I remember resurrecting her. So if they’ve put the pieces together, it’s a fair guess these Death Eater wannabes, who are already not looking like the brightest bulbs in the box, might be stupid enough to want to resurrect Voldemort.”
Severus rubbed his left forearm absently to soothe the burning that had flashed at the sound of the Dark Lord’s name, vaguely wondering if his heart would resume beating soon. He looked up at Albus Dumbledore’s portrait, which had not made a sound throughout but was clearly no longer asleep.
~ ~ ~
Celia wanted to get up and pace. If they’d been sitting in front of the Floo in her cottage, she would have, but she didn’t think Minerva would appreciate her doing so here.
“We don’t know anything of the kind for sure,” Giles said.
“Of course not,” she snapped. “But, as worst case scenarios go, it has the advantage of pretty much requiring an apocalypse to top it.”
“There is that,” he agreed. “Also, they may have been aware of that situation already. Half the demon world seems to.”
Celia was only slightly mollified by this. So far her experience had been that no humans around here knew anything much at all about the events of the relevant years in California, so it would most likely have been news to them. I realize they had their own problems at the time, but it’s been awhile. And they say Americans ignore everyone else’s history?
“Why would you even mention such a thing in the first place?” her Watcher demanded.
“It just … came up in the context of conversation,” she replied. “Anyway, you’re not exactly winning any prizes for super-secretiness. I’m pretty sure my cloak was in the kitchen at the time, but we don’t know what kind of range that thing had. Remember the first thing you said when I described the second part of that dream?”
He appeared to be concentrating, then widened his eyes and said, “I take your point.”
Not like we have any idea whether anyone could still use Dawn to open … anything, but would we really want them trying to find out? I mean, okay, all he said was her human life was newer than her whole life, but still!
“Could they do this?” Minerva asked, her voice betraying only the slightest quaver.
“He was killed magically, right?” Celia asked in turn.
Severus nodded.
She sighed. That was what the documented history said, but she’d been hoping that was just to glamour up something a little more decisive like smashing his head in.
“If they can get everything they need, yes,” Celia replied. Knowing what was coming next, she reluctantly reached through the basement door in her mind and pulled out a file.
“And what, exactly, would they need?” the Headmistress pressed.
“Well, first of all, his body,” Celia explained. “Also an Urn of Osiris and a handful of Dark substances including vino de madre.”
Minerva looked substantially relieved.
“What?” Celia asked. That wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting at all.
“His body was destroyed completely, and his ashes taken by the winds to prevent any remaining followers from making any use of them.”
“Oh.” Celia sighed in relief. “That’s … that’s good. I mean, there are ways to fake that. Wouldn’t be the first time.” She shot a look at Giles, who had a grim expression on his face. “You’re sure he was actually dead first, right?”
“I assure you,” Severus said blandly, “no one was willing to risk that he was not.”
“Good.” She still had her doubts. People who were supposed to be dead had a strange way of turning back up. But for now, let’s stick with the theory that he’s dead. “Then the chances of bringing him back wrong increase exponentially with every substitution, and lack of body? Kind of a big one. Besides, bringing him back wrong might not be all that bad.” At the stunned looks she received, she continued, “Well, come on. If you take a sociopathic mass murderer and bring him back wrong, what are you going to get? Gandhi, probably.”
“Or a sociopathic mass-murdering zombie,” Giles pointed out dryly.
“Well, yeah. Spoilsport.”
“I do not believe your Hogwarts colleagues are accustomed to Slayer wit.”
She looked at Minerva and Severus, both of whom looked pretty horrified. “Probably not,” she relented. “Seriously, though, they’d have to pretty much come up with a first-degree relative to get around the lack of a body.”
“A portion of his father’s remains were used to regenerate his body the last time,” Severus said.
“That wouldn’t work for this,” she replied. “That time, bits of his soul were still lying around, and one of them had been possessing things. This time, his soul is somewhere else. And probably not the nice shiny place that … anyway, for this, without his body, they’d need someone alive.”
“Both of his parents are deceased, and he had no siblings,” Severus said.
“Children?”
“None that any of us are aware of.”
She pondered. “I wonder … what if the child I’m supposed to be here to protect isn’t a Potential at all? What if she … or he …” Her voice trailed off as she did a bit of mental math. “Well, no, they wouldn’t be here. Even assuming he went on a wild night of partying when he first got his body back, the kid would only be turning ten next month at the oldest.”
“Hogsmeade?” Minerva asked.
“Maybe,” Celia replied. “Willow and Kennedy should keep a lookout for any kids around that age while they’re there, just in case.”
“They would still need the Urn,” Giles pointed out, “and the last one was destroyed resurrecting Buffy.”
“The last one we know of. And that one, Anya found on frickin’ eBay.”
“She … what?”
“You never heard that part? Xander so needs to tell you about that.” She grinned.
“The point is, it should be relatively easy to keep them from obtaining what they need to carry out that spell, even assuming they find it,” Giles said. “That does not excuse your carelessness, however.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed bleakly. “Maybe I should sew my mouth shut.”
“I believe you know a spell for that,” the Watcher joked.
She rolled her eyes.
“I saw that.”
“You were supposed to.”
Minerva spoke up, her voice returned to its usual firmness. “While I am glad to hear that this does not appear to be an imminent threat, I would be far more relieved if we had any certainty what these Death Eaters were doing on Hogwarts grounds in the first place. I agree that it is quite probable that at least part of their plan involved harming Severus in some way, given all that we have now learned. However, I find it very unlikely that this was the extent of their motive.”
Silence fell in the room. Celia looked up at the very awake portrait that was regarding her intently.
“Headmaster Dumbledore,” she said, “you look really interested in this. Got anything to add?”
“I am afraid I cannot,” the portrait replied. “While the fact that we are approaching the seventh anniversary of Voldemort’s death would suggest that any remaining sympathizers might attempt … something, that was not the sort of thing I was considering at all.”
“What was the sort of thing?” she pressed.
“I was actually far more concerned about the Dark energy you reported sensing from the vicinity of the Chamber of Secrets.”
She blinked several times. “What about that energy?”
“There should be nothing of the sort other than the signature of whatever spells Salazar Slytherin may have left in place, and you reported it was of a more living quality.”
“That could just mean there’s more basilisks down there,” she said. “Though, I admit, it didn’t exactly feel demonic either.”
“What did it feel like, Professor Reese?” the portrait asked.
She closed her eyes and tried to remember it. Her stomach churned at the memory of how Dark it had felt. “Organic. Living. But not sentient.” She opened her eyes. “I’ve never felt anything else like it, so that’s the best I can do.”
The portrait nodded at her gravely. “It would be well to keep an eye on it. Whatever it is, I am almost certain it is new. I myself never sensed anything of the sort, including when we were seeking the Chamber.”
“I will,” she promised, “once I can resume patrolling.”
“Celia,” Giles spoke up from the flames, “I must insist that you not patrol alone anymore.”
“She will not be alone,” Severus said firmly.
“Um, guys?” she said, looking back and forth between them. “Don’t I get any say in this?”
“No!” they answered in unison.
She was unsure whether she was more amazed that they actually agreed on something or annoyed that they were being so protective. She knew, however, that she didn’t exactly have any grounds for an argument. Looking at Minerva, she could see that she’d find no assistance there either.
“Celia,” Giles continued, “you are too accustomed to patrolling as part of a group. No doubt that is at least some part of the reason you were able to be ambushed.”
She gritted her teeth. Not like it was a problem for the last six months! But, again, leg to stand on? Haven’t got one.
“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll have you know, though, that the lovely complacency about how safe it is here has been replaced with a heaping helping of good old Hellmouth paranoia.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Giles said. “Good luck convincing Willow when she arrives.”
Celia winced. Willow had promised a bit of a “talk” during her visit to Celia’s mind. As much as she looked forward to seeing her teacher and friend, she was not particularly looking forward to that conversation.
“I would also prefer to move your quarters into the castle,” Minerva added.
“What!” That was just … no. After growing up as an only child, for the last six years she’d slept in college dorms, Slayer dorms, and assorted field arrangements. Having that little cottage to herself was something she wasn’t ready to give up. “No, Minerva. That’s overkill.”
“Your argument that your cottage is safer than the castle,” Minerva replied, “is no longer valid now that vampires are not the only concern.”
“I don’t see you making Hagrid move inside!” Celia snapped.
“Hagrid is not and has never been a likely target,” Severus supplied.
Celia whipped her head around to face him.
“Just whose side are you on anyway?” she demanded.
He didn’t reply, but she caught a flash of something across his features. It looked dangerously close to fear.
No, probably not the best idea to push him right now.
She turned back to face Minerva again and decided to try a different angle.
“If you think they’re likely to attack the cottage while I’m sleeping, then that would actually make it a good trap. A few extra spells, the occasional trip-wired sword, problem solved!”
Minerva looked horrified.
Maybe I should’ve left out the sword bit?
“There is something to that,” Giles admitted.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“But all that requires is for it to look as though you are sleeping there,” he continued. “You could go into the cottage at your normal time and then Floo over to your new quarters.”
“What? Giles, that much Flooing and I’ll have black lung disease in a week!”
“You are exaggerating, Celia. There are no known cases of anyone in the wizarding world developing respiratory problems from utilizing the Floo system.”
“I don’t think most of them are using it two or more times a day!”
“Actually,” Minerva pointed out, “there are many who do exactly that to commute to their places of employment. And I agree, you could continue to use the cottage as your office and even for research, but sleep in the castle.”
“But …”
“You have pointed out, yourself, that the reason you were able to be ambushed was that your defenses were lowered,” she continued. “Either you will similarly let your defenses down when you sleep …”
“Not likely at this point.”
“… or you will not sleep adequately …”
“Slayers don’t really need all that much sleep …”
“… and your teaching will suffer.”
That shut Celia up. The possibility of being dismissed was still very real. She couldn’t risk being sent away - especially now. Minerva probably wouldn’t let another Slayer-witch be brought in, and anyway it had seemed pretty specific that she was the one supposed to be here. Also there might be … other reasons she’d rather not leave just now. Which actually brought up another point.
“I still say I don’t need to hide in the castle,” she huffed. “I mean, didn’t we agree that it’s pretty likely I wasn’t the only target here?”
“Severus is already living within the castle,” Minerva said. “You are the one in less well-protected quarters.”
“But don’t you think you should do something about increasing his security, too?” she pressed.
“I believe you are right,” he said, startling her.
“I’m … you believe I’m what?” She turned to look at him again.
“You are correct. Despite the ancient enchantments, both students and teachers have been assaulted, even killed, within these walls, though not for several years.”
“Well … right. So what are we going to do to increase your safety then?”
This was more like it. She could work on planning for other people’s security. Other people worrying about hers was just all kinds of wrong. Maybe a few less kinds of wrong this week, but still wrong.
“I believe it would be useful for me to have a bodyguard,” he said silkily. “Perhaps someone with unusual strength, a trained fighter of course …”
It took her a few seconds to realize her mouth was hanging open. She shut it with a snap.
“Yes, well,” Minerva said after clearing her throat. “I suppose that would solve both matters. And I do not wish to pry into the private lives of my staff, of course, provided that the students remain blissfully ignorant that their teachers have private lives.”
There was really no way to argue herself out of this, was there?
Not that I mind having official permission to spend the night in his quarters … but every night? And for security reasons?
He looked like he was trying very hard not to appear smug.
Guess he got that supposedly cunning Slytherin mind of his working again, because I not only walked straight into that, I think I set most of it up myself.
Giles’ face in the flames looked murderous, but he couldn’t really argue the point either.
She could feel the first bit of tremors returning to her hands. It was nearly time for her to have another dose of Cruciatus Relief Potion, and standing here shaking wasn’t about to make things any easier.
Won’t add much to the “don’t worry about me” argument either.
“Fine,” she sighed. “Fine, that’s how we’ll do it, then.”
Now Severus did look smug. She couldn’t decide whether to be angry or pleased. She settled on annoyed.
~ ~ ~
As he escorted her back to the hospital wing, Severus sorted through the meeting they had just left. He could not begin to try and sort the whole day. Far too many things had happened.
They had not, of course, come to any conclusions as to the reasons behind the attacks, other than that he was apparently the primary target. He was deeply disturbed by that. Also, Celia’s theory was extremely worrisome. This time, everyone had been sure that the Dark Lord would stay dead. What would happen if someone were truly able to bring him back yet again? Of course, it was entirely possible this was not what these supposed Death Eaters planned at all. What they needed was information.
That used to be his job.
Being not only without the information but also unable to see any way to obtain it was an extremely uncomfortable position for him. Add to that the fact that this woman about whom he now cared a great deal had already been hurt, presumably at least in part to hurt him, and he thought he might actually feel worse than he had while worrying she might not recover.
He glanced at her, assessing her set expression and purposeful stride, and allowed himself the ghost of a smile but repressed it quickly. Whatever else may be wrong with the world, she was herself again and would be staying in his quarters as soon as she was released from the hospital wing. He scowled at himself.
They arrived at the hospital wing, checked in with Poppy, and went to her little curtained off corner of it. She cast a quick series of Detection and Privacy Charms. He almost smiled approvingly, then stopped himself. She began to pace the length of her little “room.”
“You tricked me!”
He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I agreed with you.”
She stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. “That wasn’t where I was going with that, and you know it.”
“Are you upset with the outcome?” he asked, watching her warily.
“I … well, no. Not exactly,” she admitted, “but that is so not the point!” She resumed pacing.
He was reminded of a caged animal of some kind. Perhaps a lion or bear.
Not exactly? What, precisely, is that supposed to mean?
“So, we’ve got Aurors on the grounds, students are back to being escorted everywhere and not allowed out after dark, and no idea what the enemy’s next move will be, much less when.”
“That is correct,” he agreed.
“So … we’re on the defensive, and that’s almost never good. All we’ve come up with so far for me to do is ‘keep an eye’ on that weird energy spot. Oh, and not patrol alone.” She stopped mid-pace and narrowed her eyes at him. “Or sleep alone.”
“I do not believe that was Minerva’s original intention,” he said with a smirk that he knew conveyed rather more confidence than he felt. “And you’ve just said you are not upset about that.”
She shot a quelling look at him but didn’t comment further. Instead she shifted back to the larger problem. “What about the one you caught? Did they learn anything from him or about him?”
“No. He was identified as an Alan Locksley, no prior record of any kind.”
“Did he have the Mark?”
“Yes.” That might be the most uncomfortable bit of information they had learned.
“But he was not an original Death Eater.”
“No.”
“That’s … troubling.”
“Is it? I hadn’t realized.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “So either there was another cell, of which neither you nor anyone else had any knowledge, or someone has figured out how to place the Dark Mark on people, which used to be Voldemort’s sole prerogative.”
“Correct,” he hissed, rubbing at his forearm again.
She stopped pacing and furrowed her brow. “Why did you just do that?”
“Do what?”
“Rub your arm like that?”
He scowled. “Where were these powers of observation when you were being surrounded on Friday?”
She didn’t dignify that with a response. “Does the Mark react when someone says the name in your presence?”
“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Oh, for Goddess’ sake, why didn’t you tell me that sooner? How many times have I said it around you and didn’t know I was hurting you?”
“I have not kept count.”
“Very funny.”
He glared at her, willing her to just drop it.
Eventually, she rolled her eyes and did. “We’re not likely to get any further tonight anyway,” she said. “And you must have all sorts of grading piled up, not to mention your rounds.”
“Yes,” he agreed, not feeling in any hurry to deal with either of these things.
“You should go,” she said. “And then get some sleep.”
He nodded as she drew her wand and dropped the Privacy Charm. She shot him a smile that only confused him further until she stepped closer to him and pulled him down to her for an almost chaste and all-too-brief kiss.
“Good night,” she whispered. “And don’t you go patrolling alone either.”
He turned and exited the curtained area and barely acknowledged Poppy when he passed her on his way out of the hospital wing.
Bloody infuriating witches, the lot of them.
~ ~ ~
Hours later, Celia woke fuzzily, trying to figure out what had roused her. Poppy had given her a Sleeping Draught so that she would stop jumping every time she heard a noise, and apparently it was wearing off. As she woke, she became gradually aware that she wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t alarmed. Behind her in the bed - but on top of the sheets, the chivalrous idiot - was a comforting presence with an arm around her waist and a chin resting on her head. Funny how familiar this could feel considering that the past several times he'd done this, she hadn't known his name.
He’s lucky he didn’t end up with a bloody nose.
She slid a hand down to cover his and intertwined their fingers. Once she was discharged from the hospital wing, she was essentially going to be living with him for at least several days. Part of her was glad not to give this up. Part of her was annoyed at how he’d manipulated her. And part of her was taking bets on how long it would take for this new arrangement to destroy what they’d been building back up these past couple of weeks.
With a sigh she slipped back into sleep.
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Author: firefly_124
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Angel
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: SS/OFC
Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to my beta reader, ubiquirk, who also made the lovely banner, my Brit-picker, saracen77, and my alpha readers, bluedolfyn and willow_kat.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from this. If you think otherwise, there's this nice room in St. Mungo's for you.
A/N: This will be the last installment for a little while. The next chapter isn't quite ready to be sent off for beta-ing yet, and there's Deathly Hallows coming in just under a week. Then I have a ficathon entry due in another fandom. So while I hope to have chapter 13 posted by the end of July, it may be a near thing.
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Chapter 12
As they walked to Minerva’s office, he reflected that it was a good thing she wore fairly traditional, if darkly colored, robes to patrol in Hogsmeade. Her usual garb for patrolling on the grounds would have been as noticeable as the dressing gown, if not more so.
When they arrived, the Headmistress wasted little time before getting the Head Watcher on the Floo.
“Celia, it is a relief to see you up and about so soon,” the man said once the initial greetings were out of the way and all had assumed their seats. Due to the quantity of participants on this side of the conversation, the Watcher once again was the one whose face appeared in the flames.
“Thanks, Giles. Actually, thank Willow.”
“She’s not here just now, but I will tell her you said so.”
“Did she explain what I’d done?” She looked a bit nervous as she asked this.
“Yes.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Whatever possessed you?”
She slumped her shoulders a little as she answered, “It was just instinct. Not a particularly good long-term instinct, obviously, but in the short term, at least it kept them out.”
“Have you any idea what it was they wanted?”
“Actually, that’s why we came to talk to Minerva. We just discovered something that may shed some light on that.”
“What would that be?” asked Minerva, bringing Celia’s focus back from her Watcher to Hogwarts.
“I think I was a secondary target,” she said, “and was also being used as a weapon of a sort.”
Minerva pursed her lips. “What brought you to this conclusion?”
“I decided to try and look at the problem without me in it first. If I’m not here the night of the vamp attack, then there is only one possible target: Severus. Then, fast forward to last Friday, and there are people playing dress-up as Death Eaters attacking someone. Again, regardless of who they actually attacked, it would be a fair bet he’s who they were after.”
“But you are here, Celia,” the Headmistress pointed out.
“And that’s where it started to not make sense until we discovered that there had been a magical transmitter on my cloak. By my guess, it had been there since the vamp attack, probably intended to end up on Severus since they’d have expected him to be alone.”
“And where is this object now?”
Celia made a face. “It disintegrated once I’d discovered it. I had a feeling it might be set to do that once it was found, so I tried to cast a reversal to see who was watching it, but I just wasn’t fast enough.”
“How did you find this, Celia?” the Watcher asked.
“One of the house-elves discovered it while getting my cloak from the laundry. When I cast the Revealing Spell to see what it was, it showed me myself, as if I were on camera.”
“And you are quite certain that is how it was planted?” Minerva asked.
“I can’t be sure, obviously, but it makes sense. One of the things that didn’t fit was that these three attackers seemed to know too much. I mean, think about it: Legilimency, the Cruciatus, and the Imperius, all at once? That’s freakin’ overkill, unless they knew I’d be resistant and/or immune to two out of three and not that well-prepared to deal with the third.”
“Not well-prepared?” The face in the flames looked affronted.
Celia shifted her focus again, looking apologetic. “As well as possible, Giles, but, um, no. Sorry, but that simulation doesn’t even come close.” Severus noticed a change in the set of her expression as she continued, “We’d been working under the assumption that it’s just pain, only more of it. But it’s way more. It does something to your nervous system, more than just some sensory overload. Seriously, I’m shocked that I managed even a basic shield.”
So was Severus.
“I see.” The Watcher looked thoughtful. “We’ll have to discuss the training ramifications of that later. Meanwhile, why does this convince you of the timing with which the device was planted?”
“Because all of that came up at the staff meetings the next two mornings after the vampire attack.” She sat back into her chair as if resting her case.
“That does not rule out a leak.” The Watcher fixed a glare on Severus.
“No, but I don’t believe that to be the case. Also, things narrow down substantially when you add in some information they would have to have gotten from a private conversation.”
“How private, Celia? And what information?”
She glanced at Severus, and he nodded to her. This would not be comfortable for her, but he hoped she would not deny him again.
“Private enough, Giles,” she said and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “When they attacked, I wasn’t, as you’d expect, on my way back to my cottage.”
“Oh?” asked the Watcher. “Where were you going?”
She shot a disdainful look at the face in the emerald flames, one that Severus thought was almost worthy of himself.
“I see,” the man said. “You realize this does nothing to reduce my suspicions.”
“I didn’t think it would. Why do you think I started with finding the bug?” She shook her head.
“And you do not agree that this looks suspicious?”
Severus felt a sudden and almost irrepressible urge to wipe that expression off the Head Watcher’s face. He had never tried striking someone through a Floo, but it was a tempting idea. Instead, he held his own features still, knowing they would be quite unreadable. Except, apparently, to her. He shrugged off that uncomfortable thought.
“I absolutely agree that it looks suspicious,” she retorted. “My suspicions are just completely different than yours. I suspect that, for whatever reason, the transmitter was supposed to have been planted on Severus two weeks ago. Instead, they got me and a lot of very different information than they expected. Then on Friday, they went for two-for-one torture with a side of obscure and dangerous Dark Arts knowledge.”
I would prefer to think the order of priority was reversed, Severus thought.
“What do you mean ‘two for one’?”
Minerva spoke up, “Rupert, you were not here. Severus was clearly distraught by what had happened and scarcely left Celia’s side while she was in hospital.”
The face in the flames did not appear convinced. Severus didn’t blame him. If their roles were reversed, he would be similarly difficult to sway. The one point in the man’s favor was that he was clearly concerned for Celia’s well-being.
Minerva turned to Celia and asked, “And what is your theory as to why they would have set up the original attack, then?”
“I don’t know,” Celia admitted. “I’m working under the theory that these people are real Death Eaters who are somehow at large despite proof to the contrary. I mean, it’s not like being dead’s a guarantee someone won’t show up to cause trouble.” She shot a meaningful look at her Watcher. “Ditto for prison. Either that or they’re sympathizers who wish they had been Death Eaters back in the day. Either way, discrediting Severus or trying to get him sacked might be enough of a motivation at the start, or they might have something else up their sleeves.”
“I do hope you are not closing yourself off to other possibilities,” the Watcher said.
“Of course not,” she replied, shooting a disdainful look into the flames. “Becoming too complacent about the last theory is probably half the reason they were able to ambush me like that.”
“And the other half?”
That you thought it was me. I was not even there and I managed to distract you to your cost. He’d been certain of that since she had described the seconds before the attack. She had not said that she thought that first figure was him before it turned, but he was sure of it, and that knowledge sickened him.
“They were human,” she mumbled.
Severus found himself brought up short by this.
“Celia, you can’t … You’re not Willow,” the Watcher said.
“No, really? I hadn’t noticed,” she snapped. “What was your big clue? The lack of red hair?”
“The reluctance to attack humans,” her Watcher replied. “Willow does still manage to defend herself quite effectively.”
“I did at least Stun the one.”
The face in the flames sighed. “I should have either found some way to manage magical sparring practice for you without raising suspicions long ago, or failing that, you should have set something up with one or more of the other teachers once your secret was out.”
And had we not been so caught up negotiating the beginning of a “relationship” at the same time, one of us should have thought of that.
“Then again,” she said, “they’d have known everything I did so long as my cloak was nearby, so it might not have made a huge difference.”
Severus found that thought only mildly reassuring.
“What do you think of this theory, Headmistress?” the Watcher asked.
“I am not sure,” she replied. “For the immediate future, however, I believe that it raises enough questions that I will not ask Celia to leave Hogwarts, as she may not be the sole target of these attacks, and thus her presence or absence would not affect the degree of risk to the students.”
Severus noted with a mix of satisfaction and frustration that sending him away had not, apparently, crossed Minerva’s mind.
“And my request?” asked the voice from the Floo.
“Yes, yes, send your reinforcements.” Minerva waved a hand as if to indicate her surrender on that point.
Celia appeared to perk up at this. “Who are you sending?” Her expression was filled with anticipation, suggesting she already had some idea.
“As I told you before, I cannot send another Slayer-witch …”
“So you’re sending me one of each?” She looked for all the world like a child on Christmas morning.
She should do that more often.
“Willow told you?”
“She said she’d see me soon. Not that ‘soon’ might not mean ‘during summer vacation’ or something.”
The Watcher’s image shook its head, presumably at the appalling syntax of that last statement.
“When are they coming?”
“Madams Rosenberg will be arriving in Hogsmeade on Thursday,” said Minerva, drawing Celia’s attention back into the room once again.
Madams?
“Where will they stay?” Celia asked.
“They will rent a house in Hogsmeade,” the Watcher explained. “Kennedy will take over patrolling the village - with Willow obviously. I think we are agreed that you should not leave the grounds.”
“I was attacked on the grounds, Giles,” she pointed out.
“Yes, but they must have come in with you somehow.”
“Probably.” Her mood dampened a bit. “Will they come up to the school then? Or will I not be able to see them?”
“You will be able to Floo to the house,” Minerva said. “It will be under a Fidelius Charm, by the way, which should help avoid exposing them or you. We should also see about Detection Charms, for there as well as for the school, to prevent any further use of magical listening devices.”
So, this decision had already been made before we arrived. What changed her mind?
Celia winced and said, “Yeah, there’s that. I’m going to have to try to replay everything I’ve said and done anywhere near my cloak for the past two weeks. Wish I’d sent that thing to the laundry sooner.”
A lull fell in the room. Severus watched as she appeared to be starting the process of sorting through those conversations, and so he saw the moment that her expression became one of horror. She turned to face him.
“Severus, when I came to your office the Tuesday after the vampire attack, do you remember if I had my cloak on?”
He thought a moment and vaguely remembered taking it when she arrived. It had felt awkward at the time, and that was probably the only reason he remembered it at all. “Yes,” he said, “I believe you did.”
Her look of horror intensified.
“What is it?” Minerva and the Head Watcher asked in near unison.
“Um … I think we have a much bigger problem than we realized,” she said, a quaver in her voice. “They might not have been looking for random obscure Dark Arts knowledge at all.”
“What do you mean?” her Watcher asked.
“I mean, in that conversation, I kind of mentioned … um … Buffy.”
“What about her?”
“The part where she’s been dead a couple of times and just had a birthday last month.” Celia appeared to be trying to make herself very small in her chair.
If it were possible for a Floo image to blanch, Severus thought the Watcher’s image would have done so. He was quite sure he himself had.
“Did … did you say precisely …”
“No! No. Just … it might be enough to give them ideas.”
“And you’re sure they didn’t …”
“Positive. Nobody and nothing got in or out. Everything got battened down, hatches and all. Especially that stuff. That’s why with the coma-thingy …”
“Still, that was extremely rash and may indeed be the reason …”
“Would one of you kindly explain yourselves?” Minerva demanded.
Celia turned to face the Headmistress. “The first time wasn’t as big a deal. She wasn’t all the way dead, or CPR wouldn’t have brought her back. But the second time, Willow resurrected her. Ergo, I remember resurrecting her. So if they’ve put the pieces together, it’s a fair guess these Death Eater wannabes, who are already not looking like the brightest bulbs in the box, might be stupid enough to want to resurrect Voldemort.”
Severus rubbed his left forearm absently to soothe the burning that had flashed at the sound of the Dark Lord’s name, vaguely wondering if his heart would resume beating soon. He looked up at Albus Dumbledore’s portrait, which had not made a sound throughout but was clearly no longer asleep.
~ ~ ~
Celia wanted to get up and pace. If they’d been sitting in front of the Floo in her cottage, she would have, but she didn’t think Minerva would appreciate her doing so here.
“We don’t know anything of the kind for sure,” Giles said.
“Of course not,” she snapped. “But, as worst case scenarios go, it has the advantage of pretty much requiring an apocalypse to top it.”
“There is that,” he agreed. “Also, they may have been aware of that situation already. Half the demon world seems to.”
Celia was only slightly mollified by this. So far her experience had been that no humans around here knew anything much at all about the events of the relevant years in California, so it would most likely have been news to them. I realize they had their own problems at the time, but it’s been awhile. And they say Americans ignore everyone else’s history?
“Why would you even mention such a thing in the first place?” her Watcher demanded.
“It just … came up in the context of conversation,” she replied. “Anyway, you’re not exactly winning any prizes for super-secretiness. I’m pretty sure my cloak was in the kitchen at the time, but we don’t know what kind of range that thing had. Remember the first thing you said when I described the second part of that dream?”
He appeared to be concentrating, then widened his eyes and said, “I take your point.”
Not like we have any idea whether anyone could still use Dawn to open … anything, but would we really want them trying to find out? I mean, okay, all he said was her human life was newer than her whole life, but still!
“Could they do this?” Minerva asked, her voice betraying only the slightest quaver.
“He was killed magically, right?” Celia asked in turn.
Severus nodded.
She sighed. That was what the documented history said, but she’d been hoping that was just to glamour up something a little more decisive like smashing his head in.
“If they can get everything they need, yes,” Celia replied. Knowing what was coming next, she reluctantly reached through the basement door in her mind and pulled out a file.
“And what, exactly, would they need?” the Headmistress pressed.
“Well, first of all, his body,” Celia explained. “Also an Urn of Osiris and a handful of Dark substances including vino de madre.”
Minerva looked substantially relieved.
“What?” Celia asked. That wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting at all.
“His body was destroyed completely, and his ashes taken by the winds to prevent any remaining followers from making any use of them.”
“Oh.” Celia sighed in relief. “That’s … that’s good. I mean, there are ways to fake that. Wouldn’t be the first time.” She shot a look at Giles, who had a grim expression on his face. “You’re sure he was actually dead first, right?”
“I assure you,” Severus said blandly, “no one was willing to risk that he was not.”
“Good.” She still had her doubts. People who were supposed to be dead had a strange way of turning back up. But for now, let’s stick with the theory that he’s dead. “Then the chances of bringing him back wrong increase exponentially with every substitution, and lack of body? Kind of a big one. Besides, bringing him back wrong might not be all that bad.” At the stunned looks she received, she continued, “Well, come on. If you take a sociopathic mass murderer and bring him back wrong, what are you going to get? Gandhi, probably.”
“Or a sociopathic mass-murdering zombie,” Giles pointed out dryly.
“Well, yeah. Spoilsport.”
“I do not believe your Hogwarts colleagues are accustomed to Slayer wit.”
She looked at Minerva and Severus, both of whom looked pretty horrified. “Probably not,” she relented. “Seriously, though, they’d have to pretty much come up with a first-degree relative to get around the lack of a body.”
“A portion of his father’s remains were used to regenerate his body the last time,” Severus said.
“That wouldn’t work for this,” she replied. “That time, bits of his soul were still lying around, and one of them had been possessing things. This time, his soul is somewhere else. And probably not the nice shiny place that … anyway, for this, without his body, they’d need someone alive.”
“Both of his parents are deceased, and he had no siblings,” Severus said.
“Children?”
“None that any of us are aware of.”
She pondered. “I wonder … what if the child I’m supposed to be here to protect isn’t a Potential at all? What if she … or he …” Her voice trailed off as she did a bit of mental math. “Well, no, they wouldn’t be here. Even assuming he went on a wild night of partying when he first got his body back, the kid would only be turning ten next month at the oldest.”
“Hogsmeade?” Minerva asked.
“Maybe,” Celia replied. “Willow and Kennedy should keep a lookout for any kids around that age while they’re there, just in case.”
“They would still need the Urn,” Giles pointed out, “and the last one was destroyed resurrecting Buffy.”
“The last one we know of. And that one, Anya found on frickin’ eBay.”
“She … what?”
“You never heard that part? Xander so needs to tell you about that.” She grinned.
“The point is, it should be relatively easy to keep them from obtaining what they need to carry out that spell, even assuming they find it,” Giles said. “That does not excuse your carelessness, however.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed bleakly. “Maybe I should sew my mouth shut.”
“I believe you know a spell for that,” the Watcher joked.
She rolled her eyes.
“I saw that.”
“You were supposed to.”
Minerva spoke up, her voice returned to its usual firmness. “While I am glad to hear that this does not appear to be an imminent threat, I would be far more relieved if we had any certainty what these Death Eaters were doing on Hogwarts grounds in the first place. I agree that it is quite probable that at least part of their plan involved harming Severus in some way, given all that we have now learned. However, I find it very unlikely that this was the extent of their motive.”
Silence fell in the room. Celia looked up at the very awake portrait that was regarding her intently.
“Headmaster Dumbledore,” she said, “you look really interested in this. Got anything to add?”
“I am afraid I cannot,” the portrait replied. “While the fact that we are approaching the seventh anniversary of Voldemort’s death would suggest that any remaining sympathizers might attempt … something, that was not the sort of thing I was considering at all.”
“What was the sort of thing?” she pressed.
“I was actually far more concerned about the Dark energy you reported sensing from the vicinity of the Chamber of Secrets.”
She blinked several times. “What about that energy?”
“There should be nothing of the sort other than the signature of whatever spells Salazar Slytherin may have left in place, and you reported it was of a more living quality.”
“That could just mean there’s more basilisks down there,” she said. “Though, I admit, it didn’t exactly feel demonic either.”
“What did it feel like, Professor Reese?” the portrait asked.
She closed her eyes and tried to remember it. Her stomach churned at the memory of how Dark it had felt. “Organic. Living. But not sentient.” She opened her eyes. “I’ve never felt anything else like it, so that’s the best I can do.”
The portrait nodded at her gravely. “It would be well to keep an eye on it. Whatever it is, I am almost certain it is new. I myself never sensed anything of the sort, including when we were seeking the Chamber.”
“I will,” she promised, “once I can resume patrolling.”
“Celia,” Giles spoke up from the flames, “I must insist that you not patrol alone anymore.”
“She will not be alone,” Severus said firmly.
“Um, guys?” she said, looking back and forth between them. “Don’t I get any say in this?”
“No!” they answered in unison.
She was unsure whether she was more amazed that they actually agreed on something or annoyed that they were being so protective. She knew, however, that she didn’t exactly have any grounds for an argument. Looking at Minerva, she could see that she’d find no assistance there either.
“Celia,” Giles continued, “you are too accustomed to patrolling as part of a group. No doubt that is at least some part of the reason you were able to be ambushed.”
She gritted her teeth. Not like it was a problem for the last six months! But, again, leg to stand on? Haven’t got one.
“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll have you know, though, that the lovely complacency about how safe it is here has been replaced with a heaping helping of good old Hellmouth paranoia.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Giles said. “Good luck convincing Willow when she arrives.”
Celia winced. Willow had promised a bit of a “talk” during her visit to Celia’s mind. As much as she looked forward to seeing her teacher and friend, she was not particularly looking forward to that conversation.
“I would also prefer to move your quarters into the castle,” Minerva added.
“What!” That was just … no. After growing up as an only child, for the last six years she’d slept in college dorms, Slayer dorms, and assorted field arrangements. Having that little cottage to herself was something she wasn’t ready to give up. “No, Minerva. That’s overkill.”
“Your argument that your cottage is safer than the castle,” Minerva replied, “is no longer valid now that vampires are not the only concern.”
“I don’t see you making Hagrid move inside!” Celia snapped.
“Hagrid is not and has never been a likely target,” Severus supplied.
Celia whipped her head around to face him.
“Just whose side are you on anyway?” she demanded.
He didn’t reply, but she caught a flash of something across his features. It looked dangerously close to fear.
No, probably not the best idea to push him right now.
She turned back to face Minerva again and decided to try a different angle.
“If you think they’re likely to attack the cottage while I’m sleeping, then that would actually make it a good trap. A few extra spells, the occasional trip-wired sword, problem solved!”
Minerva looked horrified.
Maybe I should’ve left out the sword bit?
“There is something to that,” Giles admitted.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“But all that requires is for it to look as though you are sleeping there,” he continued. “You could go into the cottage at your normal time and then Floo over to your new quarters.”
“What? Giles, that much Flooing and I’ll have black lung disease in a week!”
“You are exaggerating, Celia. There are no known cases of anyone in the wizarding world developing respiratory problems from utilizing the Floo system.”
“I don’t think most of them are using it two or more times a day!”
“Actually,” Minerva pointed out, “there are many who do exactly that to commute to their places of employment. And I agree, you could continue to use the cottage as your office and even for research, but sleep in the castle.”
“But …”
“You have pointed out, yourself, that the reason you were able to be ambushed was that your defenses were lowered,” she continued. “Either you will similarly let your defenses down when you sleep …”
“Not likely at this point.”
“… or you will not sleep adequately …”
“Slayers don’t really need all that much sleep …”
“… and your teaching will suffer.”
That shut Celia up. The possibility of being dismissed was still very real. She couldn’t risk being sent away - especially now. Minerva probably wouldn’t let another Slayer-witch be brought in, and anyway it had seemed pretty specific that she was the one supposed to be here. Also there might be … other reasons she’d rather not leave just now. Which actually brought up another point.
“I still say I don’t need to hide in the castle,” she huffed. “I mean, didn’t we agree that it’s pretty likely I wasn’t the only target here?”
“Severus is already living within the castle,” Minerva said. “You are the one in less well-protected quarters.”
“But don’t you think you should do something about increasing his security, too?” she pressed.
“I believe you are right,” he said, startling her.
“I’m … you believe I’m what?” She turned to look at him again.
“You are correct. Despite the ancient enchantments, both students and teachers have been assaulted, even killed, within these walls, though not for several years.”
“Well … right. So what are we going to do to increase your safety then?”
This was more like it. She could work on planning for other people’s security. Other people worrying about hers was just all kinds of wrong. Maybe a few less kinds of wrong this week, but still wrong.
“I believe it would be useful for me to have a bodyguard,” he said silkily. “Perhaps someone with unusual strength, a trained fighter of course …”
It took her a few seconds to realize her mouth was hanging open. She shut it with a snap.
“Yes, well,” Minerva said after clearing her throat. “I suppose that would solve both matters. And I do not wish to pry into the private lives of my staff, of course, provided that the students remain blissfully ignorant that their teachers have private lives.”
There was really no way to argue herself out of this, was there?
Not that I mind having official permission to spend the night in his quarters … but every night? And for security reasons?
He looked like he was trying very hard not to appear smug.
Guess he got that supposedly cunning Slytherin mind of his working again, because I not only walked straight into that, I think I set most of it up myself.
Giles’ face in the flames looked murderous, but he couldn’t really argue the point either.
She could feel the first bit of tremors returning to her hands. It was nearly time for her to have another dose of Cruciatus Relief Potion, and standing here shaking wasn’t about to make things any easier.
Won’t add much to the “don’t worry about me” argument either.
“Fine,” she sighed. “Fine, that’s how we’ll do it, then.”
Now Severus did look smug. She couldn’t decide whether to be angry or pleased. She settled on annoyed.
~ ~ ~
As he escorted her back to the hospital wing, Severus sorted through the meeting they had just left. He could not begin to try and sort the whole day. Far too many things had happened.
They had not, of course, come to any conclusions as to the reasons behind the attacks, other than that he was apparently the primary target. He was deeply disturbed by that. Also, Celia’s theory was extremely worrisome. This time, everyone had been sure that the Dark Lord would stay dead. What would happen if someone were truly able to bring him back yet again? Of course, it was entirely possible this was not what these supposed Death Eaters planned at all. What they needed was information.
That used to be his job.
Being not only without the information but also unable to see any way to obtain it was an extremely uncomfortable position for him. Add to that the fact that this woman about whom he now cared a great deal had already been hurt, presumably at least in part to hurt him, and he thought he might actually feel worse than he had while worrying she might not recover.
He glanced at her, assessing her set expression and purposeful stride, and allowed himself the ghost of a smile but repressed it quickly. Whatever else may be wrong with the world, she was herself again and would be staying in his quarters as soon as she was released from the hospital wing. He scowled at himself.
They arrived at the hospital wing, checked in with Poppy, and went to her little curtained off corner of it. She cast a quick series of Detection and Privacy Charms. He almost smiled approvingly, then stopped himself. She began to pace the length of her little “room.”
“You tricked me!”
He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I agreed with you.”
She stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. “That wasn’t where I was going with that, and you know it.”
“Are you upset with the outcome?” he asked, watching her warily.
“I … well, no. Not exactly,” she admitted, “but that is so not the point!” She resumed pacing.
He was reminded of a caged animal of some kind. Perhaps a lion or bear.
Not exactly? What, precisely, is that supposed to mean?
“So, we’ve got Aurors on the grounds, students are back to being escorted everywhere and not allowed out after dark, and no idea what the enemy’s next move will be, much less when.”
“That is correct,” he agreed.
“So … we’re on the defensive, and that’s almost never good. All we’ve come up with so far for me to do is ‘keep an eye’ on that weird energy spot. Oh, and not patrol alone.” She stopped mid-pace and narrowed her eyes at him. “Or sleep alone.”
“I do not believe that was Minerva’s original intention,” he said with a smirk that he knew conveyed rather more confidence than he felt. “And you’ve just said you are not upset about that.”
She shot a quelling look at him but didn’t comment further. Instead she shifted back to the larger problem. “What about the one you caught? Did they learn anything from him or about him?”
“No. He was identified as an Alan Locksley, no prior record of any kind.”
“Did he have the Mark?”
“Yes.” That might be the most uncomfortable bit of information they had learned.
“But he was not an original Death Eater.”
“No.”
“That’s … troubling.”
“Is it? I hadn’t realized.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “So either there was another cell, of which neither you nor anyone else had any knowledge, or someone has figured out how to place the Dark Mark on people, which used to be Voldemort’s sole prerogative.”
“Correct,” he hissed, rubbing at his forearm again.
She stopped pacing and furrowed her brow. “Why did you just do that?”
“Do what?”
“Rub your arm like that?”
He scowled. “Where were these powers of observation when you were being surrounded on Friday?”
She didn’t dignify that with a response. “Does the Mark react when someone says the name in your presence?”
“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Oh, for Goddess’ sake, why didn’t you tell me that sooner? How many times have I said it around you and didn’t know I was hurting you?”
“I have not kept count.”
“Very funny.”
He glared at her, willing her to just drop it.
Eventually, she rolled her eyes and did. “We’re not likely to get any further tonight anyway,” she said. “And you must have all sorts of grading piled up, not to mention your rounds.”
“Yes,” he agreed, not feeling in any hurry to deal with either of these things.
“You should go,” she said. “And then get some sleep.”
He nodded as she drew her wand and dropped the Privacy Charm. She shot him a smile that only confused him further until she stepped closer to him and pulled him down to her for an almost chaste and all-too-brief kiss.
“Good night,” she whispered. “And don’t you go patrolling alone either.”
He turned and exited the curtained area and barely acknowledged Poppy when he passed her on his way out of the hospital wing.
Bloody infuriating witches, the lot of them.
~ ~ ~
Hours later, Celia woke fuzzily, trying to figure out what had roused her. Poppy had given her a Sleeping Draught so that she would stop jumping every time she heard a noise, and apparently it was wearing off. As she woke, she became gradually aware that she wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t alarmed. Behind her in the bed - but on top of the sheets, the chivalrous idiot - was a comforting presence with an arm around her waist and a chin resting on her head. Funny how familiar this could feel considering that the past several times he'd done this, she hadn't known his name.
He’s lucky he didn’t end up with a bloody nose.
She slid a hand down to cover his and intertwined their fingers. Once she was discharged from the hospital wing, she was essentially going to be living with him for at least several days. Part of her was glad not to give this up. Part of her was annoyed at how he’d manipulated her. And part of her was taking bets on how long it would take for this new arrangement to destroy what they’d been building back up these past couple of weeks.
With a sigh she slipped back into sleep.
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