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The Dream	By : FemmeBono Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 2489 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings... sadly enough.

Chapter List
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Cht. 2, Awakening
Only moments after the blonde wizard left her side, Leda was wrapped in scratchy wool and hoisted into the arms of a dark figure who smelled of musty herbs and tea. The only thing she noticed at the moment however, was the warmth and a deep rumbling voice questioning, �what in blazes was he thinking by bringing an ailing Muggle here of all places?�
�Muggle?� she wondered blearily. It was the last coherent thought she had before blackness overtook her and her head dropped below the crook of the arm that held her, so that she did not hear the volley of swearing that elicited from her savior as he unsuccessfully tried to open a pair of great oak doors and keep from dropping her at the same time.
�Locomotor corpus,� said the dark man, giving up his grip at last and moving her levitating form through a great stone hallway and up a set of stairs. As he guided her form through another doorway into a room lined with beds, a bustling woman came rushing to help. He set the girl down on the last bed in the row, farthest from the door.
�Headmaster?� the woman said as she wrapped the near frozen girl into the sheets and cast a thermal charm over her, effectively cocooning her in a thawing warmth. �Where did she come from? Is she--�
�I believe her to be a Muggle.�
�But-- a Muggle? Here at Hogwarts?�
�Yes.�
�Headmaster, this woman is gravely ill. Wherever did you find her?�
�At the gates, oddly enough.�
�She should be in hospital--St. Mungo�s--�
�St. Mungo�s, I believe, would not be a wise choice. She mumbled something about Death Eaters before she blacked out. I do not think it would be in her best interest to send her to St. Mungo�s where she may let slip to the wrong person who it was attacked her if she saw or heard too much.�
The woman looked aghast at the headmaster, as if she were wondering whether he was trying to keep himself from being incriminated. But she said nothing of it. As if reading her thoughts, however, he spoke up.
�Were she a victim of anything untoward I had done, I should hardly bring her here. Rather, if I were the unrepentant bastard most everyone believes me to be, I would have left her as she was or killed her outright and disposed of her somewhere. Surely I wouldn�t want her to live.�
Choosing not to reply to this, the woman asked, �perhaps a Muggle hospital then?�
�Too many awkward questions about how she came to be there. I have no idea what Obliviation would do to her in the state she�s in. Granted, they may think she�s delirious, but she would likely keep her conviction once she�s better and then it would still lead to unnecessary complications. Simply care for her as best you can, Madame Pomfrey if you would, and I will see to returning her where she belongs safely when she can travel again.�
�What about the Carrows?�
�Keep your privacy screens up and if anyone asks, especially the Carrows, simply tell them it�s a case of dragon pox that you�re keeping quarantined as you�ve been unable to contact the parents thus far. If they get too inquisitive send them to me.�
�Yes, Headmaster.�
With that, he swept out of the room, closing the doors swiftly behind him. She watched him only a moment, questioningly, before returning to her newest patient. Sweeping her wand in an arc, the lady summoned a set of screens around the bed and tutted sympathetically as the girl on the bed shook with rattled coughs. Heaving a deep breath and kissing the idea of a good night�s sleep good-bye, the nurse began taking bottles from a cupboard nearby and spooned a few teaspoonfuls down the throat of the fevered woman.
Leda spent the first two days writhing in delirium. When her fever finally broke, thanks to the analgesic potions she had imbibed in her moments of lucidity, she found herself beset with the ministrations of a mother hen who looked like a nineteenth century nursemaid. She took any number of concoctions once she was able to sit up properly--antibiotic draughts that tasted strongly of garlic, more analgesics, and a thick syrupy liquid that purged the fluids from her system so strongly that the woman stood over her issuing commands via the wand. �Exspue,� she would say, as Leda coughed up sputum into a bucket propped on her lap. After a day or so of this her very lungs ached and she felt as though she had been thoroughly wrung out. Finally, after four days in the hospital wing of what appeared to be a great castle, Madame Pomfrey, as the nurse was called, declared her fit to leave that evening, setting aside two bottles of a liquid called Pepper-Up Potion, which she prescribed to Leda for the next week.
After checking the hallways and staircases outside, which had quieted down merely an hour before, she quickly ushered Leda, now wrapped in a comfy robe, through the corridors to a huge statue of a phoenix. �Dumbledore,� said Pomfrey, ushering Leda up a spiraling staircase that revealed itself. Leda turned to look at the woman, who simply waved her through.
She entered a room at the top of the stairs that simply stole her breath. She had not seen any of the castle other than the hospital room, and only a brief glimpse as she padded through the halls to the office where she now found herself. This room though was full of bits and bobs, gadgets she could not begin to identify, shelf after shelf of books and above it all, lined around with moving portraits that looked at her as if she were the novelty. The man seated at the desk she recognized at once, despite never having seen his face. He looked back at her through dark eyes obscured by a hank of limp black hair and was dressed, from what she could see, ankle to chin in course black wool. This then was her second savior, as she considered him.
�So, you�re doing better at last,� he said, the voice matching the one she had heard before she passed out. �Please, take a seat.� He gestured toward a pair of chairs in front of the desk.
�Yes, I want to thank you so much for the rescue--�
�No matter,� he cut in with a shrug and a nearly passive expression. �I could hardly have left you there.�
�Yes, but thanks nonetheless.�
�You�re quite welcome,� was the awkward reply.

Someone is not well socialized, Leda thought.
�So this is a school then--� she began.
�About the man who brought you--� he interjected. �Yes, it is as it happens. The important thing however is that I understand precisely how you came to be here. I want you to understand that our very existence here is a very closely guarded secret which has been breached by your being here.�
�You all can do magic, can�t you? That�s what this place is.�
The wizard, for it was now apparent what he was, inclined his head acknowledging her statement. �At this school, we instruct students in the proper methods and uses of magic. However, as I mentioned, people of your background are not typically aware of us as a rule. Therefore, the man who brought you to our very gates took an extremely dangerous risk in the exposure of our world.�
�What would happen to him if he were caught?�
�Likely he would be imprisoned and fined. At best. At worse, his wand would be broken and he would be sent out to live in your world--with no idea how to begin it. It would roughly be viewed as treason, in which case the typical penalty would be exile.�
�I rather think he has no compunction about operating outside the law,� she said lowly, �but the fact of the matter is that had he not brought me here, I might have died. I would have done if I had been left in the street, or--or taken with the other girls.�
She shuddered out a gasp as the rest of that night surfaced in her memories.
�Taken?� the headmaster cut in to her thoughts, �taken where exactly?�
�I--I�m not sure,� she stammered. �There was another man there, lots of men actually, but the one named Rowle or Rowel was told to line me up with the others. There were other women, girls some of them, who were to be taken. Rowle� I think we were to be--that is, he��
She found herself unable to continue, yet as she met the wizard�s eyes over the desk visions of that night came flooding back with absolute clarity. She heard the screams, saw her neighbors huddling together or floating overhead, nearly felt the hands of her tormentor, rough and groping, then the warm embrace of her rescuer, gentler if a bit stiff and formal. When she came at last to the bit where she passed out, her surroundings came into focus again and she clutched the arms of the chair, gasping for breath.
�The man who brought you here,� the wizard began slowly, �cast a spell on your arrival�� he trailed off as if he did not know how to ask the question.
�It was a mongoose, a glowing silver mongoose. Was it a signal of sorts?�
�Malfoy sent her here?� prompted a voice from overhead. Leda glanced up, surprised to see a portrait peering down at her interestedly, the image of an old man with long flowing beard and wire-rimmed spectacles dangling perilously from the tip of his nose. �This is an interesting development. What did this man look like, my dear?�
Largely disconcerted at being addressed by a painting, Leda stammered, �he-he was blond, very pale. That�s about all I could see really, he had a mask you see, but his hood and robe was gone. The others were still wearing theirs.�
�Pale blonde, you say,� muttered the portrait thoughtfully.
�Sorry, but who is he? Mr. Malfoy, you called him. You know who he is? Is he a spy of some sort?� Her mind raced, trying to piece the puzzle together. He had been dressed as the others, even killed a man after questioning him, but yet there were things that did not make sense. If he were like them, why tell Mr. Wilkes that he didn�t want to kill him. �If you don�t tell me, I�ll be forced to kill you,� he had said. Forced? And why save her? So many questions ran through her mind that she did not know what to ask first. Finally, she blurted out the first thing she thought of, �what�s a mud blood?�
�You, as it happens,� said a voice just barely loud enough to be audible. She craned her head around to face yet another portrait, this time of a flinty man with a pointed beard who was apparently picking lint and idly brushing his clothing before sparing her a glance.
�Er, thank you Phineas. It is a rather nasty name for someone who cannot do magic,� the headmaster replied tersely, sparing a disdainful glance at the picture over Leda�s shoulder. �The correct term is Muggle.�
�That�s what you called me when you picked me up.�
�Yes,� he replied, eyes glittering with speculation. �Now�did this blond wizard actually speak to you? Are you certain you had never seen him before?�
�No, he said nothing. And I�ve never seen a man with hair like that in my life. It was nearly white and so long� I didn�t recognize his voice either and his eyes� were almost as cold as the air itself.�
�His eyes?� said the old wizard�s portrait above their heads.
�Yes, they were an icy blue. Quite clear, nearly gray.�
�Did anything else strike you about him?�
Leda thought of the well-muscled chest, the shiny boots. �His boots, or rather his appearance altogether. He was immaculate.�
�That�s Lucius to the hilt,� snarked the portrait behind her.
�Lucius? Like the Roman emperor,� she said, looking at the headmaster. "That seems to fit him."
He looked slightly discomfited that she had learned so much. "Was there anything else you heard or saw?"
�Well, the only other thing, I suppose the main reason they were there, was the Dursleys,� she managed. The headmaster barely glanced up at her from his reverie, while the portraits all seemed to tense and lean forward at this nugget of information.
�He was questioning a neighbor of mine for their whereabouts,� she continued tensely, calling up the memory. �Of course, he didn�t know where they were--none of us do�did--but when Mr. Wilkes said so, he--he k-killed him.� Her voice breaking at last, she took a breath before continuing on. �One of the others said they were taking the women so the night wouldn�t be a complete loss.�
�They wrecked our homes,� she said after taking a steadying breath. �They killed innocent people and they kidnapped young girls and they destroyed our homes!�
�I have nothing to go back to,� she ended morosely, as the knowledge set in.
�Have you no family?� the headmaster questioned dispassionately.
�No, I have an elderly aunt but she�s in a home. I check in on her occasionally.� She sighed wearily. �I shall have to return to work immediately,� she reasoned, �everyone is surely wondering where I am. I�m sure there was a write-up; I�d be listed as missing, wouldn�t I?�
�Most likely. There would have been some story put out as soon as the proper officials took care of the situation. And likely there would be a search for those missing in the aftermath. However, I do not think it in your best interest to return, at least not just yet.�
�But why?� she began to argue.
�Madam do think,� he said tersely, �if you were to return now, even after the attack, as one of the missing they would surely want to know what had happened to you and where you had been. You know just enough to be endangered for knowing entirely too much. You have names, descriptions, you know what they were after--all of which would put your life at risk yet again. Not to mention incriminating evidence against the man who came to your aid, all of which make it fairly poor payment to him for saving your life. That either you would be killed or he would be imprisoned or exiled. Do think about your situation.�
�But where am I to go if I cannot go home?�
�She will certainly have to be kept safe, Severus,� reasoned the old wizard�s portrait. Severus simply raised a hand in acknowledgement.
�I know of a place that should do, but you must not leave the premises for any reason,� he said slowly. �Is that understood?�
Leda nodded, seeing no other alternative. �Yes, thank you for troubling yourself and for saving me in the first place.�
�Think nothing of it,� thought Severus, taking a deep breath. No one else seems to, he thought.
�And� if you see this man, Malfoy, for I can�t help but think you know him. Could you somehow, find a way� that is� could you thank him for me?�
�I shall see what I can do, though I make you no promises. Now, if you�re quite ready, I have some clothing I�ve secured for you that should do for getting on with. If you�d like, I can return you to the hospital wing. You can change there and then we shall slip down to those gates again, so I can apparate you away from here. We must go carefully, so that we will not be seen.�
She followed Severus back to the hospital wing, amazed at how swiftly and silently he moved through the darkened corridors. She clutched the clothing and satchel he had given her closely as she stepped into the privacy screens and began to change. There was a pair of jeans in the pile, plus undergarments and a purple jumper, some woolen socks, and a pair of hiking boots. She slid into the knickers and bra, both of which were a little snug, then the trousers, which were a bit big. Luckily the socks and jumper fit, if the shoes were a bit tight. But in light of the fact that she still had only a nightgown and hospital dressing robe to her name, she deemed the outfit well enough to be getting on with.
Leda stepped out from behind the screens and started when she saw the coat Severus held out to her. It was Mr. Malfoy�s, she knew. The very same that he had placed around her the night she was brought to the gates. She looked wonderingly at Severus.
�I was unable to find you a coat in the Room--in the lost and found--but this should do.� Then, reading her accurately he continued, �he has others, he won�t need it.� As if to reinforce the point that time was of the essence, he again held out the coat and shook it in front of her.
Never taking her eyes off Severus� face, Leda gently took the proffered garment and shrugged it on, noticing for the first time the scent that enveloped it. It was purely masculine and tantalizing, with woodsy green notes mingled with a sensual musky fragrance that said simply man. Leda inhaled deeply, as surreptitiously as possible while she followed Severus through the dark, silent halls and out the front door. Wrapped warmly in the coat, she ventured back through the cold that now could not touch her and clasped the two bottles she had tucked in the pockets before leaving.
Having no clear idea where she was going or what fate held down this darkened path, Leda still felt safe somehow, knowing that at least two men in this strange world could be trusted.
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A/N: Yes, this is Lucius-centric, I swear. Give it a bit.
I have a tendency to equate potions somewhat with herbalism and herbal medicine, hence the garlicky taste to the antibiotic. Garlic is a natural antibiotic. Just a little fyi.
Exspue = expectorate
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The Dream