Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter 15

With my heart hammering so hard in my chest, that I genuinely fear it bursting through my breastplate. My knees shaking to such a degree that they threaten to collapse from beneath me and my hand griping the rail so tightly my knuckles are beginning to turn white, I descend the tight spiral staircase into the very bowls of the castle. Casting one last longing glance out of the ground floor window at the rapidly retreating sunlight, I continue my descent into the underground.

The moment both of my feet touch the stone floor of the dungeon my insides begin to squirm in protest. Unsure if that is the effect of the impeding full moon or the painful objection from the beast residing within me at its being contained throughout the night.

Headless of my churning stomach and ignoring the almost painful desire to be in the open air I continue on, trying to hear my heavy footfall over the rush of blood in my ears. All too soon I arrive at the door to the potion master's office. In a gesture of nerves I scrub a sweaty palm across my mouth and jaw, trying to ignore the shaking in my upper limbs.

Tentatively I reach out to knock, only to jump backwards a full foot when it is opened from the inside. Having the presence of mind to clamp my teeth closed so as not to utter a sound to show my terror.

I turn my gaze to Professor Snape, a mild rage burning against the back of my eyes at his exploit. I am anxious enough this evening without such actions to press against already frayed nerves. “You are late.” He says in a highly disapproving tone.

I nod in his direction, knowing that my tardiness is not acceptable. Though I could no more pull myself away from the comfort of Hermione's hand in mine, than I could hold his eyes in this moment. Somehow her presence today had been a calming influence over my entire being. I knew she had kept track of the cycle of the moon; the look of concern upon her face this morning was testament to that. As if she could see into my thoughts she has spent the day religiously avoiding the topic of my impending transformation. Talking with her friends and accepting my stoic presence for much of the day. The random chatter between the three of them has kept my mind busy and the intense nerves, that I am feeling at this moment, at bay and I had been loath to remove myself from the soothing influence.

He only raises an eyebrow at my silence but, on this occasion, does not push the matter. Instead he steps out of his office, closing the door behind him. To this day I have yet to see the inside of those walls, as have most of the students of this school, past and present, the potions master appearing to prefer to converse with others in his classroom rather than his private rooms. “Follow me.” His order is short and concise, something for which I am grateful. Unwilling to utter a word for fear that my shaking limbs might transcend to my voice.

I follow a full two steps behind Snape. Keeping my eyes trained on his billowing cloak, as he leads me down two more flights of stairs and down into the deserted catacombs deep underground. The tightness in my chest making itself known to a higher degree with each step I take. As if the wolf inside me does not take kindly to such an enclosed space so far removed from the outside world. Though if this is the thoughts of the creature inside of me or my own fear of what I know is to come I am unsure.

He keeps his quick, intimidating pace as he winds down the corridors to parts of the castle I have never before visited, knowing that alone I would be lost within this labyrinth of stone.

Abruptly he pulls to a stop outside of a cast iron door. A small square cut out at eye level, metal bars passing along it vertically adorn its surface. It is more than a little imposing and I feel myself gulp back the burning sense of fear as it rises up my throat. Snape takes a ring of keys from his pocket searching through them one by one before he finds the one he is looking for and pushing it into the lock. “You will be spending the night in here...” the door creaks and scrapes along the floor as it opens, “until we can find you something a little more permanent.”

At his indication I step beneath the threshold into the room, almost wondering if the scene were designed to frighten me. The walls are covered with a thin layer of moss and the smell of damp hangs heavy in the air. Pushing against my senses and giving me the distinct feeling of a caged animal.

To my right there are more bars cornering off a large portion of the surprisingly large room. One half of the bars have been covered in a thick dark blanket, a pile of blankets behind it and the doorway stands ajar, waiting for me to enter.

Trying to be at least a little objective I can see no reason as to why I could not use this room each month. It is highly unlikely I will interrupt anyone’s sleep so deep underground. The bars themselves are over an inch in diameter and look sturdy enough to contain me even in my primal form. Then there is the second door made of solid steel to keep me caged. “This isn't permanent?”

He takes a glance around the room and sighs in what I would almost swear was regret. “This is hardly ideal. The High Inquisitor has taken a personal interest in your case and has overseen many of these preparations personally.”

The mere mention of Umbridge has my muscles bunching along my shoulder blades and I have to fight the growl I can feel fighting to be free in my chest. “If she had her way I would be down here all the time.”

My jest may have been in bad taste but I did not expect his face to darken so at my words. “The suggestion has been made.” He looks down his long crocked nose at me, his black eyes capturing my attention in an instant. “It would be wise not to tempt such a woman.”

Solemnly I nod in agreement yet keep my teeth tightly locked behind pursed lips. Not wishing my true opinions of the woman to be known by one of her colleagues.

Again he accepts my persistent silence with no conflict and reaches under his robes to pull a small vile from within their confines. Handing it to me for my inspection. The vile is a deep purple glass, the line of liquid inside barely reaches a fingers berth from the base. “Is that enough?”

“I would not dare give you a higher dose. The potion is very potent and in the morning I would prefer it if we are able to awaken you.”

I hear myself swallow loudly at his words. It had never even occurred to me how dangerous such a potion could be. “That would be better.” I answer, swirling the sliver of liquid around the base of the coloured glass. More dubious then before at taking the small dose.

He clears his throat appearing uncomfortable, an emotion I have never seen in the potions master before today. He shuffles from one foot to the other before speaking, his eyes carefully trained at a fixed point somewhere above my head. “The night is nearly upon us.” He holds his arm out to gesture the entrance to the caged off section of the room. “If you please.”

I can understand his haste and uncork the vile in my hands. After throwing back the small amount of liquid I hand him back the container, pleasantly surprised at the bland taste.

After casting one more glance over the bars I step into the enclosure, trying not to flinch when the metal hinges groan loudly in protest as the door is closed behind me. Steel scrapes against steel as the lock slides into place, sealing off any escape. The creature inside me feels like it wants to crawl up and out of my throat to howl its displeasure to the heavens. I find myself having to close my eyes tightly against the feeling. “Do you have to be here when it happens?” I ask, already feeling the impending night deep in my chest.

He takes a pause, which feels like a lifetime before he answers. “You wish to do this alone?”

I shoot my gaze over my shoulder and meet his curious eyes with my own. “It's private.” The very idea of this man watching my agony, seeing me when I must be so weak is simply unbearable.

“No. It is not necessary for me to be present for the actual transformation.” Hoping that it remains unseen I sigh in relief. “The blankets are for your modesty and comfort in the morning. I will leave you to prepare.” His black eyes bore into me for several more moments, waiting. After it becomes apparent that I will not be asking him to stay he respectfully bows his head and it in a dramatic flair of black cloak he leaves the room.

I stand stock still, listening to his retreating footsteps until I am happy that he is out of earshot. Pressing my palms against the wall I take several deep breaths in a bid to calm myself then turn to lean my back against the cold stone.

What am I doing? I know I don't want to be alone through this. Knowing what is to come. Knowing the pain that I must go through. Even a stranger’s presence would be preferable to being lift with nothing more than the sounds of my own frantic breaths and screams. Had it been anyone but Severus Snape who had offered I might very well have asked them to stay. However the potions master is the only man in the entire castle with a conceivable connection to my father. Though he shows disinterest in me, such a tale of my suffering would lighten his eyes with childlike glee. A look I would once have killed for to see on his face, now my stomach turns at the mere memory of it.

My muscles as one cramp and push me to my feet. My eyes darting around my enclosure, something inside me sparks, knowing the sunset is upon us. With my body warning me that I have very little time I bring my fingers to my tie and hurriedly pull it free of my neck, dropping it onto the other side of the bars. My breathing becomes jagged as I throw my robes from my shoulders, balling it up to push it through the bars.

My fingers reach up to tug at the buttons of my shirt when it starts. The pain starts in my belly and erupts throughout every cell in my body leaving my skin burning. Its mild compared to what I know is to come but still buckles my knees in its intensity. My knuckles turn white as my hands grip the cold metallic bars to keep me upright. With sheer force of will I pry my fingers lose and continue to unbutton my shirt.

The burning within my skin escalates, I clamp my teeth closed to hold back my screams, just for a few moments more. My entire focus in undressing and promising myself that next time I will not wait so long to do so. Bunching the material of my school shirt it my fist I pull against it, ripping the remaining three buttons from the garment and pull it over my head, falling against the bars from the pain as I push it through.

A scream is ripped from my throat a second later. I reach down to the clasp of my trousers pulling it apart and pushing the garment down my thighs, it pools at my ankles just as the agony forces me to my hands and knees.

With my ever present screams and all of my muscles shaking I fall to my side, taking all of the weight off my limbs. My hands come up to protectively cover my face and I can feel the bones breaking beneath the surface of my skin. Under my palms I can feel them shift and move, stretching the skin to almost breaking point.

My screaming, which was once pounding against my ears, stops as my internal organs begin to change, cutting off the supply of air to my continuous cry.

Darkness licks along the edge of my consciousness and I pray that this ordeal is nearly over.

Starved of air and with every muscle burning in agony I succumb to the darkness that is sure follow.

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The burning. It is all around and all consuming. Flames licking and clambering along the kindling, heating up further with each passing moment.

A blade slides across scared skin, reopening still fresh wounds, blood pools at the opening of flesh and trails along skin dripping from fingertips into a waiting wooden bowl in offering. A feeble offering in the shadow of the piles of gold and coral all around the pool of life's liquid. The only thing this poor and ill being has to give and it is given willingly.

“Nanauatl.” He responds to the name instantly, bowing low to his superiors. “It is time.”

Nanauatl seats himself upon a platform, high above the burning flames. Knowing he must be called upon for one further duty, to seal the fate of all of the lives around him.

One sits next to him, armour shining in the brilliant light of the fire to show his wealth. At the loud call of “Tecciztecatl” he stands and swaggers to the edge of the platform, letting his eyes roam the expanse of the flames and his skin feel the mighty heat it produces.

Nanauatl watches unseen from his seat. Watches as the courage of the wealthy and imposing man falters and he steps back. Pulling back from the mighty fire and shaking his head in denial.

“ Nanauatl” is called and instantly Nanauatl knows. He knows that his path has been chosen. Without complaint and without falter he stands from his humble seat. Steadfastly walking to the platforms edge. He opens his arms wide, embracing his duty and topples into the flames.

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When I wake I do so with a started gasp and a cry of fright, pushing against the stone floor instinctively. As if trying to physically distance myself from the images conjured in Morpheus' realm.

I thrust myself heavily onto my back, not giving a thought to the layer of debris sticking to my skin. Once my back and shoulders hit the cold stone my hands rush up to my face and down my neck, running over my flesh for any signs of charred skin. Letting myself pull in huge relived gulps of air when I find nothing. Having to repeat a mantra aloud over and over again to convince myself, “Just a dream.” The evidence of my terror laced thickly within my voice.

That was so real. I could feel the immense heat. I could feel it burning my flesh, stripping it from the bone. I could feel the hot air charring and closing my throat as I gasped for every breath. “Just a dream.” I repeat again, very slowly beginning to believe my own words.

I've never dreamed like that before. Never have it stay with me into my waking moments in such a way.

I close my eyes and try to clear my mind of the strange images. Slowly letting my breaths take a more natural rhythm. Only now just realizing my state of undress as I lie upon a floor not a mattress.

I let my eyes slide open to find the room dimly lit by one lone burning torch held high off the ground. Pressing against the floor with the back of my arms and trying desperately not to wince against the unbelievable soreness in my right shoulder, I am able to push myself up into a seated position to survey the room. It only takes my gaze to land on the ceiling to floor iron bars for my foggy memory to clear. Then I frown. Distinctly remembering being on the other side of those bars.

Pulling most of my weight onto my left side to avoid antagonizing my mysterious injury, I push myself up and onto my feet so I am more able to survey my surroundings. This was not something I had expected to wake up to.

Littered around the floor I find scraps of cloth torn to useless pieces. Clothing that by all rights I should have been unable to reach. I do find my robes mostly intact, ripped in places but at the very least still wearable.

Gingerly I pull it up my right arm, every twitch of my shoulder running right along my chest. Every movement pushing my face into a grimace against the pain. I then draw it across my back and up my other arm. Once decent and cradling my right arm across my chest I make my way over to the barred door which hangs wide open. Snape locked that. I remember he did. Why is it open? Upon closer inspection I find the metal lock bent and broken beyond recognition and the half inch thick bars bent outwards.

The constant aching in my shoulder is beginning to make some sort of sense when I hear the metal door to the room unlock and creak open. “Are you decent Miss Desay?”

“Almost.” I answer honestly. Not completely comfortable with his presence right now but I know I have little choice in the matter if I ever want to see the sunlight again.

The door opens fully and the potions master breezes into the room, a folded pile of clothing in his open palm.

“What happened?” I ask, turning my attention to the bent metal bars.

He clears his throat in an uncomfortable gesture and pushes the clothes into my hands, taking a step back, removing himself from my personal space as soon as he is able. “I returned shortly after midnight. You awoke and became restless.”

“Restless?” I say. “That's a bit of an understatement don't you think.”

“Perhaps. However 'restless' is the word I will be using in my report.” He is silent for a moment and I can feel his eyes burning into me. Searching for something, a reaction maybe? With every ounce of will power I possess I force myself to push down my raging emotions, keeping my face neutral. “You should rest. You're excused from all of your lessons today. We can discuss this further at a later date.” His shoulders flex and his whole body is still, giving him a deeply uncomfortable demeanour. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No.” I answer quickly, anxious for him to leave me to my own devices. As I hear the door creaking closed something accrues to me. “Professor. How will I find my way back.”

His quick steps halt but he does not turn around to face me as he speaks. “Follow the torch lights.” Almost instantly he is gone and I am free to release a shaky breath into the dim room. The bundle of clothes falling to the floor and I soon follow. Curling my legs up against my chest and just allowing myself to stare at the twisted steel bars.

After taking the wolf's bane I shouldn't have been able to be so alert in my primal form. I should have just slept. Curled up into a harmless ball of fur and slept the night away. Instead here I am, staring at the evidence of just the opposite. That once a month I am nothing more than a feral beast, capable of such a degree of destruction that I am surprised I remained confined to this room.

Unable to look at it any longer I push the torn robes from my back and proceed to dress myself gingerly, trying not to move my shoulder any more than necessary. I leave the room and as promised the light from the touches along the stonewalls lead me back into the dungeons and finally up onto the deserted hallways of the ground floor.

For a long time I stand in front of my door, gazing at the aged tattered wood, almost working myself up to enter. Yet every time I attempt to turn the handle my stomach churns painfully at the thought of being so alone in such a cramped space. Still restless and unable to face the thought of only my own company. On the third try I give in. Turning on my heel and quickly jogging up to the north wing of the castle.

I whisper the password to Hermione's room and enter as quietly as I am able to find her still asleep. Hoping that she will not see it as an intrusion I lift the covers and slide myself into the bed behind her, pressing my chest against her back and winding my arm over her hip. The movement makes her stir and she turns her head with a sleepily utter. “What?”

I place a kiss against her crown and quietly tell her to “Go back to sleep.”

I feel the bed move as she nods slowly and her fingers interlace with mine over her belly.

It is like this that I am able to push the morning’s events to the back of my mind. At least for now. Letting myself relax and listen to her even breaths.
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By The Light