Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Avenging Fire	By : LadyZombie Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 2824 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: * Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series and/or characters, nor have I made or will make, any money or profit from these writings.*

Chapter List
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Helena sighed as she stared at her still inert laptop. The morning after the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff match, Flitwick followed her down to her quarters after breakfast to see what he could do to get it to work in this magical environment. Although she didn't get her laptop back in working order, she did get an interesting magic lesson. Electronics were sensitive to both direct and ambient magic, so in order to get them to work like they would in the non-magical world, one needed to create a null space around the device that would keep the magic out. As Flitwick raised his wand to set about the task, Helena thought to ask what would happen if magic was performed inside of the null space. The tiny wizard answered that it would destroy the null spell, leaving the device vulnerable to magic once more.

After a bit of waffling, Helena declined Flitwick's offer since the twins sometimes came to her quarters during their free time to show her the new spells they had learned and she didn't want to stop them from doing so.

"If you change your mind, let me know. I could create a very small null space just around the device instead of the whole room. It's the least I can do for a Ravenclaw supporter and my personal good luck charm!"

And what would you do with it anyway? Catch up on clinic work? Face it, that laptop won't be booting up anytime in the foreseeable future.

Frowning, she snatched up the black, rectangular clam shell and stuffed it on a shelf inside the wardrobe and made to leave her quarters. It was Monday afternoon, the day Cynthia would be arriving and she had only a few minutes to get to the front gate to meet her.

Severus sat at the lectern in the potions lab and surveyed the blissfully empty classroom and cursing Dumbledore. The old man had thought that would be a good idea to schedule double potions with the very two houses who would rather hex each other than cooperate. All day had been class after class of the different years of Slytherin and Gryffindor. The most wearisome, of course, were the first years. The existential bane that was Potter, the insufferable swot Granger, and the youngest Weasley male always made him feel tired and in want of a headache potion.

Today, however, he had to move Dr. Nyx's niece and nephew as far away from each other as was possible. The young Mr. Nyx seemed hell bent on attempting a whispered conversation with his sister, much to her irritation. After the first hissing response from Miss Nyx, he sent the vocal boy to the edge of the room and deducted ten points from Gryffindor. He wondered how long it would take for the news to reach Dr. Nyx and if she would mention it to him.

An approaching murmur caused him to frown. Thinking it to be emanating from a student, Severus flicked his wand at the slightly ajar door, opening it wider. Instead of a petulant student, Dr. Nyx flounced by, muttering to herself.

Snape raised an eyebrow then sighed as he pulled a stack of ungraded parchments close, dipped a quill into red ink, and set to work.

"Now wait there and don't go wandering off! Oh Hellie dear, it's so good to see you! Give me a hug!"

Cynthia Morrow had just stepped down from the horseless carriage and was walking towards Helena with her arms outstretched. A flood of warmth and happiness filled Helena as she embraced her witch aunt. She had been at Hogwarts over a month now and had been isolated from her friends and family, with only Hieronymus, Hagrid, and more recently, Snape, to keep her company. The voluminous sleeves of the robe her aunt wore surrounded her as she inhaled the lavender scent Cynthia preferred.

"Let's go inside. The ride up from Hogsmeade was rather chilly."

Helena wanted to grin like a giddy loon as her aunt chattered on with news from home, but all she felt was bitter frustration as she walked arm and arm with Cynthia towards the castle. Everyone was doing fabulously while she languished here in exile. Nigel, Cynthia's non-magical husband, had just received a commission from some extended, and lesser, member of the royal family for a few pieces of handcrafted oaken furniture. Her father had just received word that another of his papers was due to be published in The Journal of the Geological Society, and her mother had taken up painting again.

Nice to know that they're all distraught and beside themselves.

"And Albert wanted me to tell you not to worry. He's looking into things."

"What things? Uncle Albie can't do anything about my situation. Unless he plans on holding all the wizarding textbooks hostage until my release."

"Have a little faith." Cynthia tisked as they entered the castle. Helena snorted at the concept.

As they descended lower and lower into the castle, Cynthia began to bristle.

"Just where are your quarters? In the center of the Earth?"

Snape was nearing the bottom of the stack of student parchments when he heard what sounded like a large hen approaching. As the racket came closer, he distinguished Dr. Nyx's voice amidst the clucking.

"...nothing but gloom and doom down here."

"Dumbledore assigned me these quarters so I could have some privacy."

"What rubbish! I'll speak to him before I leave. He can't stick you all the way down here and expect your health not to suffer. You're already paler than usual. I can tell. You need sunlight, dear."

"No, please don't. I like it down here. Really. It's quiet. Do you know how noisy this place can get? And I do get sunlight. I go outside every day."

Resting his furrowed brow in his hand, he watched as a tall, sandy haired woman in swirling, midnight blue robes bustled past the classroom door followed by a protesting and gesticulating Dr. Nyx. He continued to look at the door even after the two women had descended into the sub-dungeon, carrying the noise with them. With another shake of the head, Snape finished marking parchments.

Cynthia pulled shrunken item after item out of her handbag and restored them to their proper size. Helena's mother had indicated that she was sending a care package with Cynthia, but Helena was only expecting a few items, not the mound of incidentals now heaped on her bed, including her massive photo album and two dozen of Steffen's old journals.

"I apparated to your house over the weekend and retrieved your photo album. I thought you might like to have it."

"Yes, that was very kind of you, Aunt Cyn. Maybe it'll make me feel better. Or worse. I'm not sure which." Helena said as she picked up the heavy album.

"There, there. Don't you worry. We're all working on a solution."

Helena replaced the album on her bed and picked up a bar of the rosemary and oatmeal soap she liked to use. As she held the bar to her nose and inhaled, her aunt pulled one final object from her handbag and enlarged it.

"What's that?"

"A Wizarding Wireless set. I brought it from my office. You may have it though. Since magic is needed to turn it on, I'll turn it on now. Just turn the volume all the way down when you want quiet." Cynthia tapped her wand on the radio. Immediately, waltz music sounded from the sole speaker only to fade to silence as Cynthia turned the volume knob counterclockwise. "You might be interested in a program that comes on late at night. It's quite scandalous really. It's a program that plays non-magical popular music and is hosted by a man who calls himself 'Murph the Mostly Mad Mudblood.' He's rather inflammatory against pure-blood rhetoric and seems to enjoy provoking the bigots who owl him during his show. The Ministry tolerates him only because they want to appear inclusive, but I tell you, he's going to wind up dead one of these days!" Cynthia tisked.

While Helena rifled through the items her mother sent, setting aside the sweets and the things obviously meant for the twins, Cynthia busied herself with fussing over the various objects on the mantle and moving them around. Helena's fingers itched with the desire to open the first of the journals and begin excavating Steffen's self-authored history.

"Ducklings! Come give your great auntie a hug!"

Cynthia's outburst announced the arrival of the twins. Alexandria flew immediately into Cynthia's arms while Christopher hung back with his premature adult propriety.

"I'll have none of that, young sir!" Cynthia said and reached out and scooped Christopher into an embrace. When she finally released him, he stepped back and smoothed his hair and dragged his hand across his cheek to wipe away his great aunt's kiss. Helena quickly covered Steffen's journals with a blanket, lest one, or both, of the twins picked one up and recognized their father's handwriting. She wasn't prepared to explain what her intentions were at this point.

As the impromptu reunion wore on, Helena retreated into the background while the twins recounted their lessons and progress to their great aunt. She impatiently eyed the mound of journals hidden under the blanket. She was certain that what she found within would answer some of her questions or at least provide some more clues into why her brother, and subsequently his wife, had been targeted.

"Aunt Hel, show Great Auntie what you can do!"

Christopher and Alex were grinning at her. With a playful smirk, Helena levitated the twins in the air and floated them about the room while they shrieked and laughed with delight. As Helena set them back on ground, Christopher begged her to manifest fire which she obliged by igniting her right hand and dragging it through the air, causing a small trail of fire to trail along behind it.

"Would you look at that!" Cynthia exclaimed. Helena quickly summarized her progress to Cynthia, who seemed satisfied, yet unsurprised. "You've always managed to do anything that you set your mind to, Hellie. I wouldn't be surprised if you cast a spell one day."

A little before dinner was to be served, Cynthia announced that she must be going. Helena instructed the twins to gather up the things their grandmother sent them and take them back to their rooms before dinner. To silence the twins' protestations, Cynthia assured them that she would return this time next week. Once the children had gone, Cynthia turned to her niece.

"Your mother has told me how agitated you've been. You mustn't blame us, Helena. We want you safe and among the living. I meant what I said. I've been investigating a few things and so has Albert. Your father too has been speaking with people he knows. Don't think we're sitting passively by while this is happening. We find this as intolerable as you. Also, you're father has spoken with the director at your clinic. He assured Ian that your position is safe. They did have to bring in an outside psychologist to help, but he'll return to his own group once you're back. So please, for everyone's sake, including your own, find a way to make the best of this. Now, before I leave, do you need me to bring anything next week?"

Feeling shamed, Helena glanced the room helplessly. What else could she want? Her quarters were already like a well appointed flat. True, she didn't have her library here but she had plenty of reading to do as it was. Her eyes alighted on the wardrobe and the small cabinet beside it. Although her other liquors hadn't been affected, entertaining Snape had put a dent in her wine. There was also the matter of the upcoming Halloween ball. She hadn't brought any party clothes with her.

"Ask my father if he'll give me a few more bottles of wine. I also need my black cocktail dress. It's the one in the far left hand side of my closet. I'll need my black, high heeled boots as well. They're on the floor underneath the dress." When her aunt raised her eyebrows in surprise at the requests, Helena clarified. "I have to chaperone a Halloween ball."

After accompanying her aunt back to the front gate, thanking her for the visit and acting as courier, hugging her good-bye and blinking back tears, Helena watched as the carriage carried Cynthia back to Hogsmeade. Standing in the dark, she took a moment of solitude to compose herself by admiring the beauty of the castle alight in the blackness. She remained for a time, until she remembered that the inky dark surrounding her concealed dangers and threats unknown and went inside.

Dinner in the Great Hall was a rushed affair. She appeared halfway through the meal and all those around her were engaged in conversation with diners who had the courtesy to arrive on time. The only one not partaking in the chatter was, of course, Snape. Tonight the impenetrable professor's gaze was fixed somewhere south of his dinner plate, as if he was staring straight through to the center of the Earth. The food on his plate was only a little under halfway eaten. A certain tension about his shoulders indicated he was anxious or apprehensive about something.

"Helena Nyx!" A pleasant woman exclaimed as she seated herself beside Helena. "I've been waiting for an opportunity to chat with you. I'm Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor. I understand the Headmaster has given you the task to review the Muggle Studies textbook. I've been after him for some time to update the course. Thank goodness he's finally listened to me! When do you think you'll be done? I'd love to hear your input and opinions. Perhaps we can have tea and discuss them? Nyx. An unusual name. A wizarding one to be specific. Greek in origin, I believe, as is your given name. Is your family of Greek descent? You're rather fair to be Mediterranean. No matter! The Headmaster spoke a bit about your family to me. A healthy mix of wizard and Muggle blood!"

Helena could only sit and listen as Professor Burbage chattered on and on. She liked the Muggle Studies professor. The woman didn't seem to have a prejudiced bone in her body. In fact, the teacher expressed, in so many words, a personal vindication of opinion that the existence of families such as Helena's proved that both worlds could (and should) rejoin successfully.

Professor Burbage eventually diverted away from the subject of magical and non-magical mixing, to more titillating topics such as celebrity gossip. The professor asked Helena for updates on the love lives of movie stars and scandals of the royals and nobles. Just as Helena began to recount what she had gleaned from her clinic's waiting room rags and magazines, a loud clank distracted her.

Professor Snape had suddenly dropped his fork onto his plate as if he had received a jolt of electricity. His features at that precise moment reminded her of her father's kidney stone episode when she and Steffen were children. He had not wanted to frighten or upset his children, so he gritted his teeth and tried to smile through the pain as he and his wife waited for Cynthia to arrive to watch her and her brother so he could be taken to Accident and Emergency. Although he was trying to be stoic, Helena could tell that Snape was in some kind of pain as he pushed away from the dining table and hurried away, favoring his left arm.

Helena glanced around at the remaining faculty in an attempt to decipher what just happened, however the rest of Hogwarts staff were pointedly ignoring it. A few of them attempted casual remarks about the tastiness of the evening's desert custard. Helena's browed furrowed slightly as she waited a few more beats for someone to say something that indicated concern.

"Is he, Professor Snape, okay?" Helena asked when the rest of the faculty persisted in their intense attention towards everything but the now empty chair at the end of the faculty table. Dumbledore quietly cleared his throat.

"Yes, Doctor. Professor Snape is fine."

Helena's internal lie detector's needle twitched vigorously.

"Oh give it up already!"

Helena threw off her bed covers. She had been tossing and turning for at least forty five minutes, trying to fall asleep. Her insomnia was likely due to her aunt's visit and the delivery of Steffen's journals. She had been so anxious to receive them after first thinking up the idea. When Steffen was killed, and she and her father, and Mary's father, cleaned out Steffen and Mary's house (both mothers were too devastated to help), Helena had gathered them up and placed them in a box and labeled it 'S' to denote her brother's belongings. She didn't think of them until months after the funeral. When she did, they had long been committed to storage, awaiting the day when his children were old enough to receive them.

She was tempted to start with the ones he completed when he was older, towards the end of his Hogwarts days.

No, start at the beginning. If for nothing else, you can watch your older brother grow up all over again.

She flipped through them all and by using handwriting refinement and sporadic dates, put them in chronological order. Her eyes teared a bit when she opened the first one. Her confinement was making her overly emotional and that simply wouldn't do. Stiffening her jaw, she blinked away the threatening tears and began to read the first journal.

No revelation here. Just an excited boy, perhaps a bit apprehensive, starting his wizarding education. The pages were filled with names of children he thought were pleasant, observations of his teachers; 'Slughorn is kind of fat,' assignments; '6 inches of parchment about Bubbertuber pus,' and finally, on the last page, the word 'Mudblood' with hash marks underneath. Helena deduced the hash marks denoted the amount of times Steffen was called the name during the time covered by the journal. The page was 3/4 filled with them. She snapped the journal shut with a frown.

Unable to drift off into sleep and feeling an encroaching claustrophobia from the walls of her quarters, Helena changed out of her night clothes and into jeans and a pullover to go for a walk inside the castle. Squinting at the clock on her mantle, she saw that it was slightly past midnight. Her trouble hour. Surely Filch had to sleep sometime. Even if he was up and prowling, she hoped Poppy was right and that if he encountered her, he would give her a wide berth, or at least resist the urge to sneak up and scare her.

Igniting her right hand as she had done earlier that evening, she began to make her way up to the dungeons proper. As she made her way down the corridor of Snape's potions classroom she saw that its door was open and a faint light was spilling out into the dark hallway. Wondering if he too was unable to sleep, she walked towards the open door until something on the ground caught her attention. There on the floor was a trail of dark spots. Squatting down to examine them closer, she saw they had a dark crimson cast. Using a finger from her unlit hand, she touched it to one of the larger spots and peered at it.

"Blood?"

She pricked her ears for any sounds but could not hear anything. Slowly and now more cautiously, she walked closer to the open door of the potions classroom. There, on the stone wall next to the door, was an unmistakable handprint of blood.

"Professor Snape? Severus?" An abrupt rustling sound answered her.

"Yes, Doctor. I am retiring for the night. Kindly close the door as you pass."

Helena peeked around the door frame and into the classroom. Snape was standing by his lectern, gripping it with one hand. His face was mostly in shadow but Helena could tell he was frowning.

"There's blood on the ground and a bloody handprint beside the door. Are you alright?"

"Obviously. Am I not standing here speaking to you?"

A hitch in his voice betrayed that he wasn't.

"You don't sound alright." Helena said as she stepped into the classroom. Snape was standing very stiffly with his head tilted back at an odd angle.

Go away, Helena. I don't want you to witness this.

"Merlin's sake, Doctor! Can you not tell that I have no wish for company? Leave my classroom so I may retire!" He growled.

"Don't snap at me! Tell me where that blood came from and I will." She shot back.

"A simple mishap with a glass beaker. For the last time, be on your way and...AH!"

Snape went rigid, gripped in some sort of full body spasm. To Helena's alarm, he pitched forward, careening face first to the floor. A few inches before he impacted, she caught him with psychokinesis and gently levitated him upright. As he straightened, she saw blood coursing down his face in rivulets.

"Oh shit!"

Traversing the classroom at a run, Helena wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him steady as the spasm kept his muscles locked. His limbs began to jerk involuntarily as if he was in the throes of a seizure. Finally the convulsions stopped and Snape went limp. Keeping him levitating a few inches above the floor, Helena drapped one of his arms over her shoulder while keeping her other arm around his waist.

"Severus? Severus, tell me where your quarters are. Can you hear me? I need to get you inside. Severus!"

"Leave me be." his weak and reedy voice replied.

"Not a chance. Now where are your quarters? Don't make me walk with you like this all the way to the infirmary."

With his free arm, Snape pulled his wand from his frock coat with effort and waved it at a door in the far corner of the classroom.

"I can walk."

"What a coincidence, so can I." Helena quipped as she walked towards the opened door with Snape levitating beside her, his boots nearly touching the floor. It occurred to her that she may be humiliating the man's masculinity, but his pride would just have to suffer. Something was very wrong with him at the moment.

Entering Snape's quarters, she looked around for a safe place to set him down. His rooms were very much like her own, but more Spartan. Snape lifted his arm and pointed to a couch set at an angle in front of his fireplace. Gently, she lowered him down on it but as she was withdrawing her hands from his shoulders, tremors began again in his extremities.

"Right. I'm calling Poppy." Helena said as she walked over to his fireplace and looked for Floo powder.

"No. Do not trouble Madam Pomfrey. This will pass in a short while. Thank you for your assistance to this point, Doctor, but now I must bid you goodnight."

Helena whipped around. "What? You can't be serious! You're having seizures and you're bleeding."

"I am used to it."

"Used to it? What is 'it' exactly?"

"Why should you care?"

"Why should I...why wouldn't I care? For fuck's sake, what's wrong with you?!"

Snape glanced up sharply. "For an educated woman, you certainly use an unnecessary amount of coarse language. And you can stop snapping at me as well."

Helena gaped at him. Here he was, bleeding all over himself, racked with tremors, but feeling the need to snark about her use of obscenities and her tone. Well, he certainly was sounding more like himself at least. She half laughed, half snorted in exasperation.

"Fine. You're a grown man. However please let me look at your cuts before I leave. Unless your hair has sprung a leak, I'd say you have a scalp wound. They bleed a lot so we really should try to staunch the blood flow. Do you have a washcloth?"

Snape sighed but motioned towards another door inside his quarters. Flames of more than a dozen floating candles sprang to life as she entered Snape's bathroom. Dark green marble and dark woods predominated its decor. A stack of flannels were folded on the vanity by a large silver platter filled with potion vials of many colors. She took two flannels and dampened one under the tap.

"Bring the vial of dark, amber colored potion with you, Doctor."

"So, we're back to 'Doctor' again, are we?" Helena said as she handed him the dampened flannel and the potion vial. "Very well, Professor, you wouldn't care to tell me what really happened tonight, would you?" With the dry flannel she began to pat the areas of Snape's hair that were sticky with blood and parted his hair, looking for the laceration.

"I told you. A careless mishap during brewing." Snape said as he began wiping the blood from his face with the damp flannel.

"Mishap. Right. Okay, here it is. It's on the back of your head and looks like it's at least one and a half inches long, a little deep, and still bleeding."

Snape held the potion vial up to Helena. "Use a dry section of the flannel and apply this to the wound."

"What is it?" she asked as she began to dab the thick potion onto the laceration. Snape sucked in with a hiss through gritted teeth from the sting.

"Essence of Dittany. It's a restorative."

And an effective one at that, she thought, as the wound immediately stopped bleeding and began to clot. "The bleeding has stopped." She said as she recapped the vial and set it on a table next to his couch.

"Now, place my wand's tip upon the wound."

Helena guided Snape's hand so that the tip of the wand touched one end of the cut.

"Episkey."

He hissed again as the laceration closed, leaving only the faintest of lines behind. His arm weakly flopped down to his side when it was over.

"Look at me." She said.

Snape lifted his eyes to hers. "What?"

"I want to look in your eyes. I don't believe you about the beaker. You cracked your head on something and I want to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"That's really not necessary. I can assure you, I am not concussed."

Helena silently chuckled again at his defensive use of a transitive verb. He caught a glimmer of white teeth through parted lips.

"Humor me. I'll make it quick."

Snape leaned his head back and rested it on the back of his couch, too weary to put up much of a fight. Besides, a secret, silent, hidden part of himself welcomed the feminine attention. Poppy didn't count. She was a healer first and foremost, and old enough to be his mother. She frequently acted like it too, tut tutting and sometimes with a 'oh, my poor boy' or two thrown in when his injuries or curse effects were especially bad.

But many other times he had been left to patch himself up, alone, in the silence of the dungeons while the rest of the castle slept on untroubled. Countless nights he spent curled up on the floor, his couch, his bed, weathering the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse only to have to report to Dumbledore in the morning to relay whatever bit of intelligence he gathered. Albus did ask after him, but only as an afterthought.

Helena leaned in, and over, to gaze into his eyes. After a moment, she hummed to herself.

"Satisfied?"

"Not really. Your eyes are so dark, I can't see your pupils in this half-light. Now don't be alarmed, I won't hurt you." Helena held one index finger up and Snape watched as it burst into flames. "I won't hurt you." She repeated as she moved her index finger closer to his face.

Normally anyone with a flaming body in that close of proximity, let alone from a fledgling Paranormal, would have certainly given him pause, but remembering how stricken she had been at reflexively blasting Filch across a corridor, he had no doubt that she'd rather die than inflict injury on a single soul.

He saw the flame out of his peripheral vision as she in turn brought it closer, then pulling it away from his eyes, watching his pupils contract and then dilate.

The flame also illuminated her own face and Snape stared into the smoky hazel of her eyes. He silently thanked the forces that be for not making them emerald. Instead, they were the color of a forest at twilight. They were lovely and inviting, not beautiful and crushing as Lily's had been. And the way she was leaning over him reminded him of the tales of the Sirin who would come to dying men and sing to them, providing a blissful passage into the next world.

His frayed nerves were still thrumming from the effects of the Cruciatus curse and for a moment, he had the urge to reach up and pull her to him, to replace the pain with that of the comfort found in a woman's arms. In particular, one who carried the faint scent of rosemary.

Perhaps noticing how he was now looking at her, Helena tilted her head and blinked at him curiously. Snape waited for the inevitable cooling in her demeanor she would no doubt exhibit if she sensed his attraction. Instead, she smiled the slightest of smiles, then held her flaming index finger to her lips, and playfully 'blew' the fire out.

"I think you'll live."

"The heaven's will no doubt rejoice." He deadpanned in return.

She smiled again as she straightened. "Alright Severus, I'm true to my word. I'll leave you alone now. I hope you'll be able to rest and recuperate from your 'brewing mishap.'" She emphasized the last two words to let him know that she knew he was lying but held no ill will towards him. "I'll see myself out. Goodnight."

Snape didn't move from his position when she was examining him and watched her walk to the door leading to the potions classroom and from there, to the dungeons.

"Goodnight. Helena."

It would be a long while before he rose from the couch to shower the congealed blood from his hair and imbibe the potions needed to deaden his screaming nerve endings.

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A/N: Long, long time since my last update. I just wasn't feeling it, so to speak. Maybe this will get me going again, although I'm not exactly happy with this chapter. Then again, maybe not. Time will tell.
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Avenging Fire