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Amphitrite	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 9422 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Severus
did not and would never like closing his eyes in the face of danger.� But when one was faced with the prospect of
plunging into molten rock, it was not an unreasonable reaction.� So he squeezed his dark eyes tightly closed
and hoped.� A moment later, when he did
not feel every nerve in his body being simultaneously incinerated, he dared to
open his eyes.

�� What met his gaze was not the same
glowing, blistering material.� Rather, it
was the marble floor, just as it had been before, and he was moving towards it
very quickly.

�� Oof!�

�� Hephaestus chuckled behind him.

�� I know that was rather dramatic,
but it gets the point across, doesn�t it?�

�� Severus gave him a withering stare
and rubbed his smarting jaw.� He sat up
sullenly.

�� Come now, Severus, we both know
learning can be cruel.�� The god said in
a strange tone, gesturing at his crippled foot.

�� What is it that you want with me?�
he asked earnestly.� He rubbed his hands
over his face, smearing the sweat that still lingered from the intense heat of
just moments ago.� �If you are a god you
know who I am, what my history is�and my current situation�why do you take me
away from the only people that matter to me?�

�� Hephaestus�s eyebrow went up.� �Honesty.� Not what I expected from you.�

�� Answer my question.�

�� I have a message.� One that you must heed.� And you alone can take the actions necessary
to stop a certain chain of events.�

�� Stop speaking in riddles!�� The desperate tension of earlier had returned
as Severus made his way to his feet.� �I
cannot waste time reasoning out the cryptic warnings of a capricious god!�

�� You are familiar with the laws of
science, I trust�any action has an equal and opposite reaction?�

�� Of course!�

�� Severus�by me warning you and
advising you to take one course of action, the equal and opposite warning must
take place.� Someone else is receiving
this warning as well�someone who will not see practicality!� Someone who will want to do exactly what you
know to be foolish and wrong!�

�� You are gods!� You do not need us to play out your
ridiculous drama!�

�� Severus.�� Hephaestus took him firmly by the
shoulders.� �There is much you have to
learn about us�and yourself.� But I
cannot speak of that right now.� All I
can tell you is that there is something in that school.� Something that is best left undiscovered.�

�� Perhaps all of it was better left
undiscovered!� But you know as well as I
that they will not stop digging.�

�� Not even at the advice of a god?�

�� Until five minutes ago no one even
knew you existed, and who�s to say they won�t just think I�ve lost my
mind?� Babbling about gods and demons and
hellfire doesn�t exactly make one seem credible, or sane, for that matter!�

�� There will be others to corroborate
your story.�

�� Why do you need us to do your
bidding?� If it is so dangerous, can you
not deal with it yourself?� Severus huffed.�
He knew how the Pantheon of legend worked; they toyed with people,
entangling mortals where they themselves could not act.� The quarrels of those with eternal life could
only end in a stalemate, but if regular humans took sides, the results were
infinitely more entertaining.

�� It is not our danger.� We are old, Severus, and nothing can touch
our power, but you�� the god trailed off, looking grave.

�� What?� Severus demanded.

�� I have said too much already.� Farewell, Severus.�� A hot, yellowish haze encircled the god, and
for a moment Snape felt a violent frustration welling in his chest that he had
not experienced in years.� It was the
feeling of helplessness, the feeling of being someone�s pawn that had driven
him mad last time.� He had done it for
too long without ever knowing what the outcome would be, and he simply could
not bear that kind of dangerous ambiguity anymore.

�� The shape of Olympus�s blacksmith was fading.

�� Don�t do this to me!� Severus
called into the haze.� �I�ve done someone
else�s work my entire life!� If there is
something you wish to prevent, then prevent it!�� The mist became thicker and it seemed almost
to choke him, burning his lungs as he attempted one last plea.� �Hephaestus!!!�

�� The acrid smoke made his eyes sting,
and he squeezed them shut.� His voice
echoed off the temple walls, mocking him.�
And then his words were gone; he could hear the quiet rush of the sea.

�� He was dizzy, extremely dizzy.� The starry sky swirled around him, and the
moon, not quite full now, stared at him like a great eye rolled back in its
socket.� The water lapped at his ankles
and then rapidly retreated, sucking away the sand beneath his feet.

�� Could he possibly be back at Preveza?� The night
was so clear and so quiet.� So
peaceful�and yet he knew that it was short-lived.� He had not been around long, by many
standards, but it was long enough for him to know that peace was always
woefully short-lived.� The waves came
again, suctioning more sand away from his feet, and he sank a few inches into
the wet muck.�

�� Maybe if he stood here long enough
the water would erode him away like everything else.� But no; small points of light were coming
toward him, bouncing and bobbing, and voices were shouting.

�� Snape!� Snape, is that you?�

�� No such luck.� But then, he was Severus Snape.� When had he ever had any trace of luck? �

�� This time I jerk awake, shocked into
a sudden consciousness by a bizarre combination of memories, dreams, and
thoughts that oh, right, I ought to be running from something�

�� And promptly I fall onto a cold,
uneven stone floor.� Whatever I was
laying on was little more than an indentation in the wall.

�� Bugger all!�� It is out of my mouth before I even think of
caution.� Someone chuckles to my left.

�� Not as graceful as I expected.�

�� I lift myself into a sitting
position to glare at my companion.� It
has not escaped my notice that I am no longer bleeding profusely; in fact, I
seem to be completely healed, as if the werewolf incident had never happened.� I am thankful for this, but such magnanimous
favors do not usually come without obligation.�
Several dozen questions are floating through my head, but I try to
narrow them down to my top three.

�� Who are you?� I ask, trying to mask
my irritation.� I hate these kinds of
situations; they are so bloody dramatic and they make me feel like a fool.� More or less, I hate not knowing things�hell, I hate not being in control, period.

�� The person with me � clearly male �
is impressive.� Tall, well proportioned,
but I cannot make out his features.� A
shaft of sunlight is filtering into the structure directly behind him, and in
the cool darkness it seems blinding.� He
tilts his head slightly and contemplates me.

�� My answer to that depends on you.�

�� How so?� I
demand.

�� Well, I won�t lie, I really dislike
revealing myself to people who become crazy and hysterical and refuse to
believe what I say.�

�� A slight smile tweaks at the corners
of my lips.� His tone is exasperated;
clearly this has happened to him many times.�
I find myself liking him, even though I have no idea if he poses a
threat or not.� Bad, very bad�I am not
nearly paranoid enough anymore.

�� I can promise you I won�t become
crazy or hysterical.� But, you see, it�s
kind of in my nature not to believe anything until I know it�s true.�

�� He sighs.� �I suppose one out of three isn�t bad.� Get up.�

�� Where are we going?�

�� Outside.� I vastly prefer the sunlight.�

�� Cautiously I follow him.� So far he doesn�t seem threatening at all,
except perhaps that intangible tone in his voice.� It�s the tone that powerful people have �
that tone that inspires people to follow him, and causes hesitation in those
who don�t.� I check for my wand; it�s in
my pocket.� Strange.� I know I lost it during the attack, so I
would have expected it to still be lying on the beach in Preveza.

�� Watch your step.� You�ve already been quite clumsy today.�

�� I find myself rolling my eyes.� A moment later I have to close them against
the glaring sun.� It is incredibly
bright.� I catch a glimpse of intense blue
sky before my eyelids shut it out.� I
breathe deeply, glad to be out of the dark, stuffy
room below.� The air is different here
than on the beach; cooler, fresher, somehow more exhilarating.�

�� You can look now.�

�� Cautiously, I open my eyes.� He is standing directly in the path of the
sun, shielding it from my eyes.� I find
myself unable to tear my eyes from him; it is like the sun is a part of him,
exuding from his silhouette.� That
inkling of power I felt before is amplified now.� It�s assaulting my senses, and I sincerely
hope that staring is not another one of his pet peeves.

�� Do I look like I mind people
staring at me?� he says, as if reading my mind.�
I give him a quick once-over and conclude that no, he does not look like
the type to be offended by staring.� If I
looked like him, I wouldn�t mind it either.�
His mildly conceited mannerisms make sense now.� He�s�well, to put it plainly, he�s perfect.

�� I blink and try to look away.� I�m not the type to spend several minutes ogling
anyone (at least not blatantly), let alone a man that I know nothing
about.� It is difficult, though.� I see a little smile curve his lips; he likes
the attention.�

�� When I finally manage to look
elsewhere, I find that the surroundings are similarly beautiful.� We seem to be about halfway up a mountainside.� Beneath us there is a green valley, and
further on more gentle, sloped mountains. �Not craggy, jagged things like the Alps�they are more like the
rolling hills of southern England, but taller and browner
and closer together.� The sky is
brilliant and cloudless, and the moon, barely visible, is high above us.

�� What is this place?� I ask.� We are on a long stone platform, raised about
six feet off the ground.� To the left
there is an impressive row of columns.� I
can see fine cracks and chips in the dulled marble and bare spots along the
edge of the platform where other columns once stood.� An ancient temple, perhaps?

�� This is my temple.�

�� Your temple,� I repeat.� I�m not ready to write him off as insane yet;
there is something about him, something I cannot explain, that makes me believe
he is deserving of his own place of worship.�
He opens his mouth to say something else, but is interrupted by the
sound of many voices mingling together.�
I hear a crunching noise � the sound of feet on gravel.� Several heads appear from below, followed by
entire bodies, and I start slightly.� I
didn�t think they were so close.� From
the looks of them they are Muggles�and from the look
of me, they�ll probably think I�m a madman.�
I move toward the crevice we emerged from, but his voice stops me.

�� Don�t worry, they won�t see us.�

�� I turn to look at him.� �How do you know?�

�� He smiles, and this time it reaches
his eyes.� �Trick of
the light.�

�� Severus awoke groggily from a dream
he had not had in quite some time.� It
had plagued him for months in St. Mungo�s.� In it, he was dead � well, sort of dead,
because he was still conscious.� Only his
body had expired, and rather gruesomely at that, but he felt no alarm at his
appearance.� For a long time death had
seemed a welcome end to him.� No, it was
not so much the fact that he was dead in the dream that always unnerved
him.� It was the people who attended the
funeral.

�� There was Voldemort
weeping extravagantly from his glittering red eyes.� Bellatrix Lestrange was in the corner wailing and singing her hair,
streaks of ashes on her cheeks.� The
senior Crabbe and Goyle
were both present, standing near in ill-fitting Muggle suits.

�� So tragic,� said one.

�� Yes, cut down in his prime,� said
the other.

�� Many others were about, too; Death
Eaters in their masks and outdated Muggle clothing, and it looked as if the
masks had become their faces because he could no longer identify
them.� Corrupt government officials were
there as well, milling about and looking only interested enough to be
believable.� There were Dementors hovering near the ceiling and Fenrir
Greyback covered in fresh blood in the back - it
never seemed to dry or drip or rub off onto anyone else.� And amidst all the subdued chaos, Narcissa Malfoy stood still as a sculpture, her body all
severe angles in a black dress.� Her face
looked like porcelain beneath a black veil; she had black satin gloves on and
clutched a dry handkerchief and looked every bit like a widow in a 1940s Muggle
movie.� Narcissa
was always there, every time he had the dream, but never Lucius.� Never Lucius.

�� And then there was Peter
Pettigrew.� He was in his animagus form, only now he was normal human size � a giant,
hairy, disgusting rat on which a delirious Voldemort
leaned.�

It was about this time that an irrational panic began to build inside
him.� These were not the people that were
supposed to be at his funeral.�
These�these were the people that were supposed to cause his
death, not the people that were supposed to mourn it.� What had he done?� What had he done for them to honor him so?

Sometimes he awoke before Nagini slithered
into the coffin and began whispering his dark deeds to him, and sometimes he
did not.� But today he had been spared
the litany.� Invariably, the list made
him scream.

He opened his eyes and experienced a moment of confusion.� The nearest person was, oddly, Remus
Lupin.� He looked at the werewolf�s
profile, and told himself that it was only the red spots blinking in his eyes
that made it seem like Lupin was covered in blood.

�Lupin?��

The werewolf turned toward him and gave him a wry smile.� �Good morning.�

�What the hell are you doing here?��
Severus asked.� He contemplated
getting up, but his body still felt stiff and heavy.� It was then that he noticed the girl sitting
next to Lupin.� She was thin and dark
with piercing eyes.� �And who the hell is
she?�

�She�s your werewolf,� he answered.

Severus blinked.� Why did he
still feel so disoriented?� What did
Lupin mean she was his werewolf?�

�But you�re my werewolf.�� He
said it before he realized how dazed and stupid it sounded; clearly the brain
to mouth filter was still a bit off.

Lupin laughed.� �I�m not entirely
sure, but that may be the nicest thing you�ve ever said to me.�

Severus promptly turned onto his side, putting Remus out of his
view.� �Clearly I need more sleep if I�m
giving accidental compliments to the likes of you.�

Remus chuckled, shaking his head.�
�I promise I�ll never tell anyone.�
But wait a minute before you go back to sleep.� Hermione wanted to talk to you when you woke
up.�

His eyes shot open.� Severus
could have kicked himself.�
Hermione!� He had completely
forgotten about Hermione!� He sat up too
quickly, nearly falling off the cot as his equilibrium adjusted.

�She�s here?� She�s safe?�� He did not care if his voice sounded a little
bit urgent.

�Yes, she�s fine.� She said she�d
be on the beach working on some ancient potion.�

All the heaviness and lethargy fled his body.� Now there was only a burning need to talk to
Hermione about what he had experienced and to find out where she had gone.� He was almost out of the tent when he stopped
and turned around.� Lupin looked up
expectantly.

�Any word on Lucius?� Severus asked.

Lupin�s brow creased and he shook his head.� The girl beside him seemed to wilt.

Snape sighed, and then he was gone.

Hermione had fully intended to make more progress on cleaning the
potion container Snape had given her, but she could not ignore Draco as he sat
sullenly on the beach.� For a while she
had simply sat with him, and then they had had a brief conversation about Snape�s return, but now she could no longer restrain
herself from asking the question that had been burning in her mind for a few
days.

�So tell me about your lovely fianc�e, Draco.�

This actually evoked movement from him for the first time in nearly an
hour.� He turned to look at her, an �Are
you serious?� expression on his face.

�I already told you too much, as far as I�m concerned,� he said
moodily.

�Oh, come on, you know I�m just trying to take your mind off your
father.�

�By talking about a marriage he might not approve of?� Draco asked,
exasperated.� �Although I suppose if he�s
dead it doesn�t matter.�� He drew back
his arm and launched a stone at the ocean; it skipped twice and then disappeared
beneath the water.

�He�s not dead.�

Draco turned to her once again, a thoughtful look in his eyes.� �How can you stand to be so optimistic?� If you�re always holding on to the hope that
everything will be all right�isn�t it that much worse when it�s not?�

Hermione shrugged.� She had never
thought of it that way.� It just wasn�t
in her nature to expect the worst.� Maybe
it did make things exceptionally painful when they didn�t turn out well�but
without the hope that it would, would she even be here today?

�Thank you for coming so quickly,� Cyrus said, nervously wringing his
hands.� �I know you were on vacation,
but��

His friend of thirteen years held up a hand.� �Just tell me what the problem is.� I know you wouldn�t interrupt me unless it
was urgent.�

�It is urgent.� Shall I start
with the part that will interest you?�

The other man smiled.� �You know
me too well, Cyrus.�

Cyrus took a deep breath and leaned over the table.� The words came out of him without pause.� �We�ve got�a two-thousand year old werewolf
that was down in the school in a display case.�
During the full moon she attacked a member of my dig crew.� Now he�s injured and missing and we can�t
understand a damn thing she says.� All
we�ve got is that her name is Lilith.� The Babel spell doesn�t work.� It�s some kind of antiquated Greek, I
think.� But we need to be able to
understand her if we�re going to find him.��
Cyrus was well aware of how ridiculous and futile it sounded.�

Leonidas Andropolous had
many talents, not the least of which was for ancient languages.� Unfortunately, it had been a long time since
his last foray into Hellenic tongues, and Cyrus would not blame him if he did
not care to venture there again.� A part of him expected Leo to tell him it was pointless and go
back to his vacation, but another part remembered a man who could never, ever
say no to an intellectual challenge.� It
was just who he was; he had been born without an ounce of magic, but twice as
many brains.

As Hermione and Draco sat in a comfortable silence, each absorbed in
their own thoughts, a shadow fell over them.�
They both looked up to find a disheveled former Potions Master looming
above them.� Snape cleared his throat.

�Er�Draco, may I speak to Hermione alone for
a few moments, please?�

Hermione didn�t look at Draco, but she could almost feel his eyebrow
inching up.� She still hadn�t said
anything about their weird attraction, and it seemed that Severus was
intelligent enough to use caution around the subject, as well.� But Draco was intuitive - he would figure it
out eventually.� For now, though, she
wasn�t going to give him any hints.

For his part, Snape felt quite awkward but masked it as he always did:
with a stony face and a casual, almost detached tone of voice.� He had no idea if Hermione had mentioned
anything to Draco.� Most likely she had
not; why would she, when neither of them even knew the definition of what they
were?

�Of course,� Draco replied, standing and
brushing sand off the back of his legs.�
�I didn�t mean to monopolize her.�

�You weren�t,� Hermione said.� �I
was just trying to give you moral support, but I forgot that Slytherins don�t like that.�

To her surprise, Draco attempted a smile.� �It was appreciated.� I must go sulk in true Slytherin
fashion now.� If you hear anything��

Hermione nodded.� �I know.�

Draco gave Snape a curt nod, and began to walk down the beach.� They stayed silent long after he was out of
earshot; neither knew what to say.�
Finally, Severus cleared his throat and spoke more awkwardly than usual.

�I�was glad to hear that you were all right.�

Hermione drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on
them.� Her voice was soft when she said,
�Same here.�

�Where did you go?� he asked haltingly.�
She could tell that he knew she had gone somewhere, but felt strange
asking without proof.� It was decidedly
un-Slytherin-like to make assumptions.

She poked her toe nervously into the sand.� �I think�I think to a place called Olympia.�

�And did you�meet someone there?��
This was his delicate way of asking if she had met a deity like he
had.� The phrasing was innocuous enough
that he could play it off if she hadn�t had the same kind of experience, and
yet it gave enough leeway for her to admit that she had.

She stared at him for a moment.�
Her brown eyes were tired and held some emotion that he had not seen
before.� �Let�s�let�s not do this
now.� I know we have a lot to talk about,
if your experience was anything like mine.�
But�I feel like things are going to change, somehow, and I�I just want
to preserve this moment, this feeling��

She was too honest, as always.�
But he pushed her on.� �What
feeling?�

�The feeling that everything is all right.�� She shook her head vigorously as soon as it
was out of her mouth.� �Well, everything
isn�t all right, but it never really is, it�s just a matter of how much you can
bear�� Something was flickering behind
her eyes, something painful.� �A part of
me died in that war�I think a part of everyone did�and I�ve felt kind of empty
ever since�� she paused, taking a deep breath and furrowing her brows.�

He couldn�t stand it anymore.�
The traits that had once seemed annoying to him were now entirely too
disarming, and the whole time he could not take his eyes off her lips as they
moved.� The quiver in her voice spoke to
the part of him that felt the same way but did not dare to ever fight to the
surface.

��But when I came here it was like I finally far enough away to stop
seeing all the scars, I can finally just be the way I was before, I can feel
things without worrying about it being used against me, that it�ll drive me mad
when it�s taken away��

Her honesty tormented and mocked him.�
But he loved it.� Before she could
elaborate any further, he finished her thought.�
He moved in quickly, so quickly that it startled her, and kissed
her.� It was fast and strange and she was
stiff from surprise, and when her lips did not yield he backed away
hastily.� Perhaps he had misinterpreted
her.� It would be disastrous if he did,
and he cursed his impulsive behavior � it was not like him, but she had that
effect, she made him feel things and do things that were not�

Or were they?

Confusion flashed over her face and his simultaneously.� But after a moment she stammered, �I�I wasn�t
ready!�� A blush had crept into her
cheeks.� �I didn�t expect you to��

�I know,� he replied.� A silence
that was half awkward and half bloated with expectation settled over them.� Thankfully, it was brief.

�It was the right move,� she said, with a small, bashful smile.� �I just didn�t expect you to be the one to
make it.

�I do have a backbone in such matters when it suits me,� he
replied.� The wildness of the previous
moment was deserting him, and his old shield of formality was fighting to
regain its place.� But he would not let
it elbow his ardor away; he hadn�t felt it in a long time and he could not
stand the thought of hurting her with his coldness.

This time she leaned forward, slowly, almost excruciatingly, but with
her eyes closed.� Uncertainty paralyzed
him until the last moment.� Just before
her lips met his, he managed to seclude it in the corner of his mind that
screamed at him to ask her if she was sure she wanted to kiss her old fool of a
potions master, because he was hardly worth kissing.

But her lips were on his, and they were delightfully, insanely warm and
soft. �A sudden hunger overtook him and
his arms wrapped around her almost spasmodically.� It threw him off balance, and he teetered
backwards.� He expected her to pull away,
but she simply followed him down onto the sand.�
She was laying sprawled halfway on top of him,
and by Merlin�s wand, he could not remember ever experiencing a more pleasant
weight.

Hermione�s hand slid up to cup his jaw, and she tilted her head, the
tip of her tongue slowly teasing the tip of his.� It was absolutely maddening, and he had to
exert some serious control to prevent himself from putting his hands in a place
they might not be appreciated � mainly, her lovely rear end.

She was quite an accomplished kisser, but he had expected nothing else
from a perfectionist.� His lips tingled
as they rubbed softly, wetly against hers; slow, conquering kisses that he felt
strangely submissive to.� She must have
noticed the tension in his hands as he struggled to maintain propriety.� As her tongue slid and twined with his, one
of her hands came down to push his hand lower.�
He resisted her a little when it came to her hips, but she was
insistent, and he yielded, his hand coming to rest on her shapely
buttocks.� She felt firm and wonderful
and he felt no shame giving her a bit of a squeeze.� Clearly, Hermione wanted nothing to do with
propriety at the moment.

A soft sound came from her as she briefly raised her head for air.� She looked at him, her lips slack and red and
that sad, pained look entirely gone from her eyes.� He wondered how he could have ever insulted
her looks; she was a thousand times too beautiful for him.

The ridiculousness of the situation hit him then.� Here he was, lying on a beach with a former
student half on top of him, and he had just kissed her�been kissed by her.� And his hands were on her - a girl who, for
years, he simultaneously respected and couldn�t stand.� A girl who, he was
sure, had once hated him.� It was
ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous.

She felt him begin to tense, and her eyes narrowed.

�Don�t you dare,� Hermione said, shaking her head.� �I know you are scared to death of this�of
us.� But I don�t care.� I am not going to let you fall back on your
old defense mechanisms.� I am not going
to let our first moment as a couple turn into a fight!�

He closed his eyes.� She was
right.� He was scared.� But he couldn�t just turn off his brain or
his mannerisms.� He couldn�t stop the
doubt, the memories, the old prejudices � he couldn�t stop being Severus
Snape.� But he cared about her, he really
did, which was hard enough on its own without everything else�

But they were over the precipice, past tentative looks and
flirting.� There was no going back.� And truthfully, he didn�t want to go
back.� It was simply that he had no idea
how to go forward.

�I�m sorry,� he said gruffly.� �I
don�t know how to do this�normally.�� He
couldn�t look at her; he was the most embarrassed and at the same time the most
relieved he had ever been in his life.

�Normally,� she said, �you would relax and kiss me.�

Severus made a conscious effort to loosen his tensed muscles.� Relaxing was not his forte, but he would do
his best.� Hermione chuckled at him.

�Don�t laugh at me,� he said dryly.�
�I know a Type A when I see one�you can�t hide.�

Her face lit with a smile.� It
was true; she was sometimes rotten at relaxing, as well. �She knew this was much harder for him than it
was for her, and she would have to be careful not to expect too much of him at
first.� Obviously she could not
anticipate the relationship progressing rapidly.� And that was all right � Hermione was in no
rush.� The last time she had jumped
headlong into love had ended very, very painfully, and while it was true that
neither she nor Ron was responsible for the mauling of her heart, it probably
would not hurt to take things a little slower this time around.� Oh, how Ron would roll in his grave if he
knew what she was embarking upon�

Yet many things that had seemed impossible before the war had become
abundantly possible.� That was the nature
of war; people had to pick a side, and sometimes it was surprising which one
they chose.� And in the aftermath, life
was surreal for a while.

But this was real.� She leaned
down to kiss him softly and he responded perfectly, just brushing her lips.� If her life was going to explode into another
nonsensical fit of conflict, she was at least going to be with the man she
wanted.� And whatever was in that damned
school below the sand that could send the world into a spiral was surely
nothing compared to what they had collectively been through.
- 11
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Amphitrite