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Dark Coil	By : gotsnape Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 4418 -:- 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
- 40
- 41
Chapter 43- Wisdom Exceeds Folly as Light Exceeds Darkness
" Therefore, take these words I have spake unto thee and burn them
into thy mind. Absorb my wise counsel as the willow doth take up
water from the ground, soaking in knowledge into every fiber, sinew and
bone. For my counsel is good. It doth bring comfort and will
uphold thee in times of distress.~ The Book of Surinim
A soft haze, much like gray velvet filled her, wrapping its self about
her essence like a pearlescent shroud.
She floated.
For how long, she did not know, nor did she actually care. The concept
of time was of no consequence to her as she rested, content and thoughtless.
She floated.
Pain, fear, care, and worry had no place here. Flickering images
and minute physical sensations attempted to gain her attention; prodding
at her consciences briefly before dissolving into the gossamer clouds billowing
about and through her. She paid then little heed.
She floated.
She was the mist.
Weightless and free she drifted, hovered, only to drift yet again.
Silent, damp, cool and formless.
No, that did not feel right.
She yet retained an awareness of being, an acceptance that some
degree of separation lay between herself and the space in which her thoughts
resided. There was an acknowledgment of the faces and scenes that
sparked like fireflies within her, and this, coupled with the responses
to the stimuli that appeared to emanate from "out there" solidified the
concept that she truly did exist.
It was on these external sensations that she focused, using them much
as a cave explorer would use a life rope to guide them once more to the
surface. She set her thoughts to experiencing and identifying these
impressions, her understanding growing with each success.
There was a gentle coolness that danced over her and carried with it
the perfume of a memory long forgotten. It was a sweet, tangy scent
that brought to mind little green apples, freshly sliced, the kind
that slapped the tongue with their tart juice when first bitten.
It carried her back to a small child's bed and she remembered waking on
summer mornings to this same delicious fragrance drifting throher her glass-less
bedroom window. The aroma of the massive privet hedges lining the
dirt path to her babyhood home was a cherished memory and she felt herself
smile.
The moving air carried more than just the comforting fragrance.
It brought with it an array of sensations that slowly sorted themselves
into bird song and the hushed whispers of the breeze itself. A meadowlark
called and was answered by another of its kind, while from closer by came
the rustle of leaves and the soft groan of swaying branches.
The grayness slowly gave way to a happy, yellow glow, while along one
cheek, a tickling could be felt.
With a soft sigh and stretch, Olivia opened her eyes.
"Arise, my love."
Blinking, Olivia focused upon the smiling face of St. Brigit, the goddesses
blue eyes shining with love and joy. With a gentle laugh, the saint
stroked the flower she held once more across Olivia's c.&nb. "Thy
rest has been good?"
Easing to her side, Olivia pushed herself slowly upright, glancing at
her surroundings as she did. "Yes, milady. I feel... great?"
"Art thou unsure?" Brigit inquired teasingly, smoothing her skirt
over the lap Olivia had just vacated. " Though I am not much of a
couch, thou did'est seem content."
Feeling the blood prick her cheeks, Olivia smiled tremulously.
Though she could hold her own in the toughest courtrooms of the world,
she felt immature and wanting when compared to the calm, self-assured being
at her side.
Running her fingers through her tousled hair, Olivia nodded then froze.
"My baby!" She cried, her hands now flying to her belly. The
memory of Draco's attack plowed into her as she stared in disbelief at
the bloodless white shift that drifted down her body.
Brigit spoke calmly, placing her hands over the startled woman's own.
"Thy son is safe, my own. No harm hast come to him."
"But this is just a dream world, or... something else, right?"
Olivia insisted. "I am fine here, but my body is back at Hogwart's."
She glanced around hurriedly, recognizing the stream side glen, the massive
oak from which their swing depended. She now jumped from the swing, amazed
that she possessed the strength. "How long have I been asleep, or
...am I dead?"
"Nay, Olivia!" Brigit rose as well and moving to the confused
witch, embraced her. "Thou art living yet. Thy corporal body
does heal itself, while thy spirit and mind do commune with me. Be
at peace. Come, refresh thyself in my presence. I know'est thou hast
a head full of questions and I will address them anon, but now let us take
what pleasures we may from this moment." So saying, she linkn
an
arm through Olivia's and began to gently lead her along a path that meandered
lazily in and amongst the trees.
As the pair strolled, a familiar peace came over Olivia and she
devoted her self to a careful study of the beautiful woman at her side.
During the witch's previous 'visit', the goddess had been garbed in a habit
of lush, butter yellow satin. The richly embroidered gown and wimple
had melded neatly with Olivia's memories of the lavish and breakinaking
images of Christ and the saints rendered by the Renaissance masters.
The witch could easily imagine Brigit standing amongst Heaven's court as
they were gathered around the throne of God.
Today, however, the saint could have passed for a simple, albeit comely,
dairy maid, dressed as she was in an unadorned blonde shift overlaid by
a homespun kirtle of deep blue. The long black hair was tucked beneath
a plain cap with strings that were loosely tied under the woman's chin.
Brigit had pushed the loose sleeves of the shift up past her elbows, displaying
tanned, well toned forearms.
"Dost thou find my appearance displeasing?" Brigit inquired, a
grin in her voice.
"Oh no, milady." Olivia was swift to reply. "It is just
last time you were so... well, holy. You fit my ideal of a saint
perfectly." She felt her cheeks burn once more with the foolishness
of her statement.
Brigiuckluckled, squeezing her companion's arm affectionately.
"Olivia, dost thou not recall, I was born a simple farmer's daughter?"
"I thought you to be noble born, milady."
"Nay, nay, dearest. Whilst Father possess vast holdings, his mortal
state was well before the time of landed gentry."
Her interest piqued, Olivia asked, "So, you were raised on a working
farm? Did you have brothers or sisters?"
"Oh aye! Ours is a fruitful clan. The eldest is Giles, who
was nigh on to manhood when Mother was delivered of me."
Olivia pondered the information, then queried, "Were any of your siblings
as blessed as you?"
Brigit laughed softly while shaking her head. "Nay, dear one.
Thou art mistaken in thy thoughts." She paused for a moment as if
deciding just how to phrase her next words. "Olivia, despite myth,
'twas not my earthly works that gained for myself this exalted state.
Not by my own hand was I raised up." She smiled at Olivia's intent
frown. " I was sent to this life with a purpose. E'en whilst
I bided in Mother's womb, I did know'est my course."
"To defeat Voldemort?"
"Nay, simply be the stone upon which he would stumble. 'Tis not
my destiny, not yours to bring about the downfall of the serpent.
That task doth lay with upon another. He is yet green and untried,
therefore unprepared to engage the vile snake."

Olivia nodded in understanding, though her brown remained puckered in
thought.
They had past beyond the fringe of the wood into a grove of low growing
trees before Olivia marshaled her self for another question. "Milady?"
"Aye."
"You said you were aware of your purpose before your birth."
"Aye."
"Forgive me for being dense, milady, but I don't quite follow."
Olivia cast her gaze side ward, afraid to see reproach or scorn upon the
saint's face. However, Brigit was regarding her companion with understanding.
"Olivia, can'st thou accept that thou art in a realm outside the walls
of time; that thou could bid'est here with me for countless days
whilst hours do creep by in thine own time?"
When Olivia had assured the black haired woman of her acceptance, Brigit
continued.
"Then, can'st thou expand thy comprehension, embrace the notion of a
plane where words denoting time have no meaning? There is no 'day'
or 'night'. Seconds and eons are both equal for eternity doth stretch
its length in every direction. I existed in the mind of the Creator
e'en before He did fashion me. With a word, I sprang fully made from
His hand." Brigit paused in her monologue, turning her face skyward,
the dappled sunlight moving over her features like pixies.
"I am one of the First Born, an early child of the Father. Slightly
higher than the angels are we, yet infinitely lower than God. I did
witness the fall of Lucifer, the Bright and Shining One. Greeted
I, Adam as he opened his eyes and first beheld the garden. My lips
were the first to bless the still wet curls of the newborn Merlin and I
did take my place around the council fires of Bodiecia, giving her what
wisdom I could. 'Twas I who wiped the face of our Savior as he made
his way up Golgatha's Hill and I did stand and weep with the angels as
Michelangelo perfected his offering upon a ceiling in Rome."
Olivia, astounded, held her silence, hungry for the goddess to continue.
"I am known by many names. The Romans did call me Juno and Vesta,
the Welsh did name me Dou. In Gaul, I was called Sucellos and the
tribes of Eire did beseech me using the title, Tuatha de Dauann.
I am the Corn Maiden and Mary of the Gaels, Caillcach and the Hag of Winter."
Brigit turned to face her companion. "I am the bringer of Spring,
the Queen of the Harvest, the Prize. I am the Unbroken Vessel, the
Maiden of Iron and the Saint of Kildare, Brigit of the Everlasting Flame."
A moment passed while Olivia gazed at the saint, her green eyes wide.
"That is freaking amazing!" She finally gasped.
"Oh, aye." Brigit agreed. "I am possessed of that self same
belief." Releasing Olivia's arm, she made for one ot the trees that
lined their way. She plundered among the broad, lobed leaves for
a bit then returned to where Olivia stood.
"Figs!" The blue garbed woman exclaimed. "Plump with goodness."
She had formed a pouch with her skirts and had filled the azure valley
with dozens of the sweet globes. Olivia felt her mouth water with
the sight of the foggy, purple fruit.
"Take'st thou some." Brigit insisted. "They will delight thy palate
and refresh thy body."
Olivia bunched the flowing material of her skirt in one fist, creating
a sling. As she transferred a portion of Brigit's harvest, the saint
selected a fig, inserted her thumb through the tight skin and deftly turned
the fruit inside out, exposing tender, juicy flesh heavily populated by
tiny seeds. While she sucked at the fruit with greedy abandon, Olivia
expertly divided a fig of her own, green eyes lighting up at the first
wash of candied goodness.
"I had forgotten how yummy these things could be eaten right from the
tree." She moaned before running her tongue along the outside of
her arm where a river of juice flowed.
" 'Tis why I pla the them for thee." The goddess replied.
The women continued their sticky feast until Olivia felt she could take
no more. Her face and hands were coated in seedy syrup and sighing
with feigned exasperation, Brigit spat upon a square of linen and briskly
scrubbed at Olivia's mouth and chin. "Thou were't ever the piggish
eater."
With a grimace, Olivia pulled away, whining, "Milady!"
Laughing, Brigit grabbed the other woman's hand. "Come, let us
share this rich bounty with thy sisters. Eager are they to behold
thee once more. Thou shall join us at table." This last was
called over one shoulder as she set off with a sprightly step.
Shock rolled through Olivia with Brigit's words and she pressed a sticky
palm to her forehead attempting to block the rush of dizziness. Figs
tumbled to the path as Olivia swayed, sinking to her knees.
When she regained her bearings, Olivia found hea head once more pillowed
on Brigit's lap, the goddess' cool fingers stroking her brow.
"I must be terribly injured if you are keeping me here for so long."
Olivia managed to croak weakly.
" Thy mortal shell is fragile, the damage, severe; yet fret not.
Thou art in my care." She continued to run her fingers tenderly across
the pale woman's forehead. "Peace, my love. Peace."
Olivia's lips puckered as they fought to imprison the words fighting
to be free. Finally, with a resigned sigh,, she looked into the clear,
blue eyes above her and spoke. "Why didn't you help me?" She
pleaded. "When Malfoy was attacking me, I called for you."
Swallowing tears, she whispered. "I needed you so badly." Rolling
to her side, Olivia buried her face in the goddess's robes, her speech
muffled by the course fabric.
Brigit spoke, her tone gentle but firm, the voice of a loving parent
instructing a young child. "Olivia, thou must believe I would never
abandon thee. Thou art my darling, my precious." She ruffled
the shining auburn curls playfully.
Olivia pushed her self upright, dragging the heel of both hands across
her eyes. She threw an accusing glare Brigit's way. "I was
desperate! I called and called and there was... nothing! You
turned from me when I needed you most."
The iron in the goddess' voice cooled and hardened further as she withdrew
from Olivia and rose to her feet. " Had thou made prudent use of
thy studies, thou would not now be sniveling and whining about my lack
of assistance."
Olivia refused to cringe under the taller woman's ire. "I have
been reading, studying!" She insisted.
"Then why behave'st thou as a discontent, petulant child?" The
black haired saint demanded imperiously, her dark eyes snapping.
"What do the prophesies tell thee of the Dragon?"
Anger flooding her entire being, Olivia surged to her feet. "What?
Is this a test?"
"Tell me of the Dragon!" Brigit demanded, her voice ringing through
the woods, causing the trees to tremble and the birds to fall silent.
Stunned, Olivia racked her brain. She had read something about
the Dragon in the damn prophesies, but like everything else in the blasted
book, it made no real sense. " 'Though the Dragon strikes, she will
not lift up her hand against him. By this, shall he be comforted.'
But I did lift up my hand, I fought him with everything I had in me.
If I had possessed the strength, I would have killed him" She admitted,
confused.
" 'Tis not of thee whom the prophesy speaks but of me. Thou would
have slain thy attacker if thou had possessed the strength? Beloved,
I do possess the strength and had I turned my anger upon the young dragon,
his
mortal frame would have been reduced to dust, his soul erased from existence.
E'en whilst I turned my face from thy anguish and deafened my ears to thine
cries, I did keep'est thee in the palm of my hand and thou were't safe."
Brigit's expression melted in anguish. " Had I gazed upon thy attacker,
allowed myself to see thy suffering, I would have unleashed my rage upon
him and the task of the Dragon would be unfulfilled."
"The task...?" The witch questioned.
"Dearest," Brigit snarled. "Thou art in possession ofh
sh
sets of prophesies. Why is it thou art yet ignorant of my words and
plans for thee and thine companions?"
Olivia was forced to cant her head back at an uncomfortable angle to
bring her blazing emerald eyes to meet the equally hot gaze of her mistress.
"I've read plenty, thank you very much, and you know what?"
Folding her arms stubbornly across her chest, she thrust her narrow chin
forward. 's C's CRAP! Have you ever tried to wade
through that muck?" Tossing her head, Olivia continued. "
I mean, it's not like you haven't had the time!"
Brigit's features hardened and she spoke through clinched, white teeth.
" My precious one thou art, yet still wilt I chastise thee if needs be."
Stepping closer, the goddess loomed over the smaller woman. " How
many times must thou be reminded of just who I am? Of what. Thou.
Art?"
For a long moment Brigit held Olivia's gaze, forcing her to view the
passing of the ages, the unfathomable patience and love that had endured
over the centuries. In the blue orbs of the saint, Olivia read the
unswerving commitment and unquestioning obedience of the other woman.
There was then unselfish offer of personal sacrifice, the pain of separation
told over and over again as her world grew, changed, burned and was reborn
once more. Olivia saw faces age and fade, each one, a dearly loved
memory. There, in the azure eyes was a longing for a love set aside
in the service of a higher good. Generations of women flashed before
her mind, each one devotedly striving towards, and some even dying for,
their ultimate destination~
Herself.
Shame engulfed Olivia and she dropped her eyes submissively. "Forgive
me, milady." She whispered as her heart twisted in contrition.
"You... you are right to show me these things. Please forgive me."
With that, the witch sank to her knees and lifting a bit of Brigit's gown,
humbly kissed the hem.
Silence reigned over them. Even the wind had ceased. Finally
Brigit spoke, laying her hands upon the bowed head before her.

"Olivia, thou art strong and this is good. Thou wilt need all
thy strength in the coming days and weeks." She paused. "Yet,
never must thee forget nor disregard the contributions of those who have
labored to bring thee to this moment."
Cupping Olivia's chin, Brigit turned the shame-tinted face upwards.
" Miell ell the sacrifices that have been made through the ages.
Be not saddened my the thought, yet take comfort in the knowledge that
all was done for thee; that thou might be the perfect vessel to carry
me before the Dark Lord that I might bring about an end to his unholy scheming."
" I am your vessel, your willing servant, milady." Olivia stated,
her voice filled with conviction.
Brigit smiled and once more the air around them was filled with thengs ngs of nature.
" Thou art forgiven thy arrogant manner and words, for truly, I do love
thee and cannot bear to hold any anger against thee. Come, give me
thy hand."
Olivia obeyed and was pulled to her feet and then into a loving hug.
The witch's heart felt full to overflowing and as the saint released her,
Olivia was tempted to burst into joyful song.
" Nay!" Brigit begged, covering the other woman's lips with a
finger. " Do not sing, I pray. I have heard thy voice in many
bathing stall."
Olivia gave a bark of laughter and with Brigit's help fell to gathering
the scattered figs.
"Dearest?" The saint inquired when they were once more upon the
path.
"Yes, milady?"
" Thou did'est refer to the prophesies as 'crap'."
Olivia swallowed hard. "Yes, and I am truly sorry for that..."
Brigit silenced her with a hand. " Dost thou not comprehend why
the words are concealed within the ramblings of a madman?"
" I just figured the real Surinim got out from time to time and screwed
things up." The witch replied.
"Olivia, if thou were not pressed by duty to do so, would'est thou 'wade
through that muck', simply for pleasure's sake?"
The auburn haired woman rolled her eyes and snorted, causing the goddess
to chuckle. "So, there thy dost have it. My words must needs
be hidden away from unnecessary perusal. Even the most devoted of
scholars have dozed within a few pages." Brigit tugged at the strings
below her chin, pulling the cap from her head.
Olivia gasped in awe as a shimmering, obsidian waterfall spilled over
Brigit's shoulders to swing below her hips.
"The prophesies were for two pair of eyes alone, thine and the Serpent
Lord's." The goddess ran fingers through her dark curtain of
hair and continued with her instruction. " I did seek to convince
the vile destroyer to pursue but one prey. Though any female could
be utilized in his demonic rite, it would be thee, and only thee, that
he should desire."
Olivia felt a shiver of revulsion and forced back the bile that tried
to rise, bitter as acid, to her mouth.
Brigit's look was one of compassion. " I share in thy repugnance,
but know that through thy beloved, thou shalt never need endure the dark
one's noisome touch."
With a bright laugh, the goddess snatched up Olivia's hands. "Behold,
the unbroken vessel!" She cried to the vaulted, blue sky. "
Look, all ye mountains and valleys, upon the vessel filled and rejoice
at her coming, for she is the promise that was sealed before the first
day's dawning!"
Olivia bit her lips as she tried to keep her expression meek for the
goddess' words threatened to fill her heart with pride.

" Please, milady, would you speak more about the Dragon? What
does Draco Malfoy have to do with bringing down Voldemort?" Taking
a deep breath, she continued.p; "p; "And what of Severus? Is he the
Beloved and the Champion? It sounds like they are two separate
people? Can you tell me when the final meeting will take place?
Will I be ready in time?"
Brigit halted the rush of questions with a raised hand, while a sweet
smile curved over her full lips. " Let us break breeforefore we speak of
those things that have yet to be." So saying, Brigit led Olivia from
the path and over the steep, grass covered hill to the small stone building
nestled at its feet.
Once again, the witch was greeted by joy filled cries and kisses as
the other inhabitants of the abbey rushed out to meet the pair and pull
them into the shadowy coolness of the stone structure. Olivia was
seated at a long, wooden table and a pewter goblet of cold water was pressed
into her hands. She watched in stunned amazement as the goddess herself
joined in the preparations, carrying bowls of vegetables and platters of
steaming meat to the board. Occasionally, Brigit would catch Olivia's
eye and give her a grin. Hundreds of questions pelted about the seated
woman's brain, yet she could not bring herself to break the atmosphere
of contentment as the other women bustled about the cramped kitchen, laughing
and working together.
It came as no surprise that Olivia realized she recognized the women
hurtling about the small chamber. She had never met them in the flesh,
but the memories behind the blue eyes of her goddess had provided Olivia
with an intimate knowledge of each woman present.
There stood Isoble, her arms laden with trenchers of vegetables and
beside her was Blanche. Both women had lived and died during the
third century, B.C. . Olivia spoke each name in her mind; a roll
call of those who had served. Rhonda, who though born a bastard child
to a orphan, died an abbess in Normandy. Phillis, who married a prosperous
farmer and bore him fifteen children. There was Kathleen and Regina,
Dorcas and Rul. Agatha, Marianne, Deidre, Madelynn and Freija.
On and on the list went and as she paired each name to a face, Olivia
paused to admire woman's strong beauty. None of the women were lovely
in the 'drop-dead' sense of the word, yet each held a grace and attractiveness
that captured attention. They shone with the determination and peace
that comes from knowing and understanding their purposes, their talents
and potentials. These were womensesssessed of a single heart; their
minds firmly fixed upon one goal.
" Thou do'st see and comprehend?" Brigit's quiet inquiry caused
the young woman to jump slightly.
" Yes." Olivia responded with awe. " Each of these ladies
has been your vessel at one time or another. They all knew and accepted
the responsibility without complaint."
" I woot not go so far as to say dat!" Laughed a stout blond,
in heavily accented English. " Ach! I trantrumt like a chilt
for tree decades. But 'twas all for naught." The woman jutted
her chin at the grinning goddess. " Dat one der, jealous she is wit
her own."
Brigit demurely smoothed her unwrinkled skirts as she sat down at the
head of the table. "Jealousy is a sin, my dear Myrtle. I am
above such human frailties."
Several of the ladies snorted at this, causing Olivia to arch a questioning
eye at her black haired hostess.
" 'Tis nothing of import, I assure thee. These ladies are
merely having their sport at mine expense. Think naught of it."
Brigit intoned lightly, though her cheeks bore a mist of pink. "
Be seated, all. Our darling Olivia's time grows short. Let
us give thanks for this bounty and feast."
There was a rush as each one took their places at the board and when
all were settled, Brigit raised her palms ceilingward and pronounced
the blessing.   A gentle choas insued following her 'Amen'
as platters and bowls were passed the length of the table and back again,
accompanied by much banter and good natured teasing.
Olivia ate her fill, joining in the various conversations taking place
around her. It seemed that she had known her dinner companions all
her life and the talk flowed freely. All too soon, Brigit dabbed
at her lips with a napkin and motioned for quiet.

Giving Olivia her complete attention, the goddess spoke.
" Dearest, thou has questions that I did promise to address. I
will do so now and I bid thee attend carefully to my words."
Olivia nodded, leaning forward eagerly.
" First," Brigit began. " Thou did'est inquire of the Dragon
and the part he does play in thine mission. He has none."
Olivia drew back, her mouth a circle of shock. She took a breath
to speak, but was halted by a gimlet glare. " Thee did promise to
heed me." Brigit said, wagging her index finger before the witch's
nose. Olivia relented with a sigh. " The attack upon thy person
has set the Dragon down his own path. By his deed and his word will
he become a standard about which others of his kind may gather. Through
him, will an entire generation find the courage to break free from the
snares of their forefathers. The Dragon has seen another way and
has set himself upon that course. When thine own task has been completed,
his
story
will be told.   Then will the children of death look upon him
in wonder and say amongst themselves,

' " See, there is one who has cast off the cloak of darkness and yet
he lives! Might we not accomplish this for ourselves?" '.
" So, you are saying that by nearly killing me, Draco is going to become
the poster child for Junior Death Eaters Anonymous?"   Olivia
blurted.
The goddess' alabaster brow puckered as she attempted to decypher the
witch's words. Finally she gave up and nodded briskly. " If thou
art saying he will become the model by which they do pattern their lives,
then, aye."
" Another reason for not helping me." Olivia stated without rancor.
" If you had creamed Draco, there would be no one to give hope to those
young ones."
" Indeed."
Olivia put the information about Draco to the rear of her mind, and
made her next query.
"Will you tell me about the Beloved and the Champion? Are they
the same person?"
"Ooo, yes!" Prompted a lush red-head from further along the table.
She wagged her arched brows suggestively, then continued on with a decidedly
Yankee twang. "We want the skinny on lover boy."
This would be Pearl, Olivia thought; Coney Island, turn of the century.
She caught Pearl's sparkling brown eyes and the two shared a wicked grin.
" Severus is..." Olivia began, unused to sharing girlish confidences.
" complex." She felt herself blush under their disappointed stares.
" Complex?" Groused Neive, a short brunette with a studious mein.
"Can you not be more precise? What are his persuits, his manners?"
" What care we for his pursuits and manners?" Declared Rhonda,
the abbess. She leaned around her nearest neighbor and glared down
upon Olivia. "What is he like between the furs?" When Olivia's
jaw dropped in shocked amaze, Rhonda huffed. "Speak up, girl!
Is he well endowed?"
Turning to Brigit with wide eyes, Olivia asked, " Are they always this
earthy?"
With a chuckle, the goddess nodded. " My daughters have ever been
possessed of a lusty nature."
"Well, we come by it honestly, milady." Pearl smirked. "
Seeings just who we were possessed by!"
The table erupted into bawdy laughter and Brigit acknowledged the words
with a smirk of her own. " 'Tis only right and good that we should
desire to share love's most intimate clinging with our chosen mate, to
find sweet release in the arms of our one true love."
" As to thy question," Brigit turned to the witch at her side.
" The Beloved and the Champion are one; both in their way providing for
thy safety and thy deliverence."   She patted Olivia's hand as
it lay upon the table. " Thy Severus has fulfilled his duty as the
Beloved, for he did woo thee and win thee.   He touched thy heart
with his gentleness and tender ways. By sweet word and deed, he claimed
your devotion and reaped the bounty of his labors within thy willing frame.
His seed does quicken in thy womb, sealing thee forever from Voldemort's
touch."
Olivia had covered her mouth during the speech on Severus' courtship,
attempting to block the laughter that bubbled into her throat. Brigit
noticed her distress and frowned. "Something tickles thee?"
Hiccupping with supressed mirth, Olivia fanned her reddened cheeks.
" I was just wondering if "brainless chit" could be considered an endearment."
Taking a long drink from her cup, she continued. "It's just that
words like 'tender', 'gentle' and 'sweet' are not exactly terms that I
would use when describing Severus Snape."
The goddess pulled back, a look of confusion on her strong face.
" Thy Severus does not come to thee in tenderness? Pray tell me that
he is not brutish in his affections."
" No, he is not a brute." Olivia confessed.
" So, he has confessed his love for thee?" Brigit pressed.
" On one ocassion, yes." For some reason, Olivia was begining
to feel uncomfortable.
" Only the once?" Rhonda barked.
" Well...yes," Olivia began.&nb" Yo" You have to understand..."
" What more is there to be understood, girl?" The abbess demanded.
" The villian did play upon thy compassionate nature, have his wicked way
with thee without promise or ring, and thus leaves thee undefended at thy
most dire moment."
" That's not true!" Olivia responded with heat. " I was
not some silly virgin waylaid by a glib tongue."
" But does he love thee?" Brigit asked, the urgency in her voice
concerning the witch not a little.
Confusion written plainly upon her features, Olivia answered.
" I think...Yes, yes, he does love me." Even to her own ears the
declaration sounded weak and pale. Glancing up and down the table,
she saw trepidation in each set of eyes that regarded her.
"Olivia."
The goddess' voice pulled the witch's attention from the stares of the
other women. Her blue eyes filled with unease, Brigit enjoined, "
Would'est he place thy sake above his own, casting aside all ambitions,
duties, his honor, if it would serve thy need?"
Stunned, Olivia sat in thoughtful silence. Would Severus give
up everything he was if she asked it of him? Would he relinquish
his valuable role as spy, turn his back upon Albus Dumbledore, forsake
the wizard debt owed to the son of his teenage rival at her request?
She fidgited upon the bench, twisting her fingers into bloodless knots
before she answered in a whisper. " I don't know."
Quiet reigned in the low stone chamber, the only sound, the gentle pop
and crackle of the fire. Gone was the warmth of cheer and laughter.
Suddenly, the room was cloaked with dread and uncertainty. Under
the still frost hanging over them all, Olivia heard Brigit as the goddess
whispered insistantly to herself. " There is yet time. All
will not be lost. There is yet time!"
Before Olivia had time to consider the words, Brigit spoke aloud, addressing
the group. " Our Olivia's time grows short, yet I have further instruction
to provide 'ere she goes. Pray, bid her farewell with holy kisses
and let her pass from your company with joy."
Soon, Olivia found herself striding up the moon silvered slope, the
lights of the abbey glowing yellow and warm behind her. Instead of
leading her down to the streamside glen, Brigit chose to sit on the hill's
pinnacle, pulling the witch close to her side. The cool evening breeze
tugged at their hair as they regarded the swirling mass of stars dancing
in the inky sky. After a time, Brigit broke the silence.
" Olivia, I spoke aright when I did say that thy time grows short, for
soon thou will be delivered into the hands of the Vile Lord and the dark
coil of his scheming will be undone." The goddess felt Olivia stiffen
under her arm. " Be thou unafraid! Arm thyself with the knowledge
I have provided thee." Kissing the top of Olivia's head, she continued.
" The appointed time is now upon us and centuries of waiting have come
to an end."
Snuggling close to the other's comforting presense, Olivia inquired,
" Will I know it when the time comes, for me to be taken to Voldemort,
I mean?"
" With a kiss will thy betrayer reveal himself to thee, so vigilant
thou must be."
"When? When will it happen?" Olivia hated the quaver that
accomponied her words.
"As thy preparest for thy feast." Was Brigit's cryptic response.
Olivia's brow puckered. As she readied to inquire further, a tiny
sound caused her to stop.
It reminded the witch of the grunting squeaks from a newborn pup, demanding
and at the same time, lonely and frightened. Pushing herself upright,
Olivia looked around her for the source of the sound. " Milady?"
" I would have thee depart from my presence with thy heart filled with
courage. Look upon the face of hope and be glad." So speaking,
Brigit lifted a squirming, growling bundle from within the folds of her
gown and placed it in Olivia's arms. " Behold, thy son."
Olivia felt the air leave her body in a rush as the tiny mass of wriggling
warmth was laid at her breast and with a trembling hand she pushed the
cloth aside, allowing her to see the infant clearly under the moon's glow.
" Oh! Oh! Oh!" she gasped upon viewing the child's face, his little mouth
puckered into a tight knot and his black brows slammed together at the
sudden glare.
" He looks just like Severus!" She breathed softly as she felt
her eyes well up with tears. Running her fingers lightly over the
shock of black fluff that covered the small, round head, Olivia smiled
into the face of her son. " Yes, you do!" She crooned.

" You look just like your daddy!"
The babe, for his part, stared hard at the face above him, his expression
one of studied concentration. "Oh, milady! He is wonderful!"
Olivia cried, not taking her eyes off the child. "Isn't he beautiful?"
Turning, Olivia brought him fuller into the moonlight, holding the bundle
up before her. As the moon's glow fell over the baby, Olivia noticed
a faint shadow upon his narrow brow. " What is that?" She whispered,
peering closer. " Is that a birthmark?"
" 'Tis the sign of my covenant with thee." Came Brigit's voice,
as if from a great distance.
Olivia watched as letters grew and darkened on the infant's skin, forming
a word.
" Resugram?" she whispered.
*********************************************************************************************
Once more she floated, but not as a cool, mist.
She was smoke and searing ash that lay like a heavy caul over the land.
She was a scorching wind, a blast furnace coughing up sulpher and glowing
cinders.
She burned and rolled, black and orange over the expanse and she could
taste dust upon her lips.
Dry, cracked, parched and burning, she crashed like a meteor, exploding
into a million painful shards.
She woke to the sounds of her own cries.
***********************************************************************************************
Minerva smoothed the matted bangs from her daughter's face as Olivia
blinked against the harsh glare of morning light streaming in through the
infirmary's high windows. She tried to force her tongue through her
parched lips, but the organ refused to budge from its gooey perch on the
roof of her mouth. Sensing her distress, Minerva turned away to scoop
up a cube of ice. Sliding the melting coolness over Olivia's lips,
Minerva broke the chapped seal and allowed a few refreshing drops to trickle
into the woman's mouth.
Madam Pomfery moved her glowing wand tip over Olivia's body, nodding
her head and making affirmative noises. Satisfied with her findings,
the mediwitch doused the light.
" A bit weak from dehydration and lack of food, but other than that,
she should be fine." The stout, little witch shook her head in amazement.
" It's a bloody miracle."
"Poppy!" Minerva cried, shocked.
Poppy returned Minerva's stare with her own defiant glare. " Well,
that is what it is! A bloody miracle! The girl was all but
dead, and now look at her! No worse off than if she has suffered
a stomach flu. Stab wounds healed in just two days, her lungs healthy
and sound as bells!" Poppy stuffed her wand into the band of her
pinafore as she stalked off to her office. Minerva could hear the
mediwitch mumbling the entire way.
" A freaking, bloody miracle!"
"Mama?"
The weak plea snatched Minerva's attention back to the woman on the
bed. Olivia had taken her mother's hand in a shaking grasp.
"Mama?"
Leaning over her daughter, Minerva crooned. " Do you want more
water?"
Shaking her head slowly, Olivia whispered, " Please..."
" What, my darling?"
Olivia's eyes were sliding shut once more, but her grip on Minerva's
hand increased. " Please tell me that Severus hasn't killed Draco
Malfoy."
TBC
*****************************************************************************************
I know, I know. This has been a long time in coming. I just
really want to do my best before I put it out there for all of you.
I dunno, maybe I am getting too serious about this story. I just
don't want to toss out any old piece after so many of you have stuck it
out for so long. To answer a few of you, no. I have no intention
of stopping. I am going to complete this tale and Sunshine and Shadows.
Thanks to Zee for her beta work on the first section of this chapter.
*smooch*
And to those of you who reviewed chapter 42:
- 40
- 41
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Dark Coil