By Murasaki99
Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey listened to the Headmaster as they took tea in his office. Outside the charmed coolness of Hogwarts, the sultry summer heat hazed the air. The students were away on vacation, leaving the staff of the venerable wizard's school time to catch up on certain matters that were best done without the presence of children.
"I have sent for another faculty member," Dumbledore said, "Although I am not sure yet what she will teach, and teaching is not the primary reason I have sent for her."
"Her? Doctor Kuroo did not accept?" Madam Pomfrey looked confused. Her fellow staff members simply looked blank.
Dumbledore shook his head in a negative. "Doctor Kuroo is, and I quote from his letter:
Mooshiwake arimasen <I'm terribly sorry>. No can do. Up to my ass in ashwinders. Call me when you have a cure for the Petrifying Plague or if you need a heart transplant. Good luck with that idiot Tom Riddle. Doctor Honma sends his regards.
Abayo, K."
The parchment was covered with small burn marks, giving a certain air of veracity to the comment about ashwinders.
"Rather flippant for a Ph.D., isn't he?" asked Professor McGonagall, pursing her lips at the tone of the letter.
"These aren't doctors of letters, my dear Minerva," Dumbldore began, only to be interrupted by Madam Pomfrey.
"Albus, who did accept your invitation? It's not like chirurgeons grow on trees."
Dumbledore lifted a second parchment. The script on the letter was flowing and precise and the note seemed brief. Peering through his spectacles, he read,
"I am honored to accept your invitation and trust I will be of service.
I will come as swiftly as I may.
Eregion."
"Doctor Eregion! I thought she was long dead!" Madam Pomfrey looked amazed. Her faculty peers just looked annoyed at being talked-over.
"Will someone please tell me who or what we are hiring?" Severus growled. "Is this some fancy title for yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"
"Oh no, Severus, a chirurgeon is a doctor. A medical doctor," Madam Pomfrey explained patiently, smiling a little as if anticipating something good. "Doctor Eregion has an excellent reputation. I look forward to watching her work."
"But you're a perfectly good witch-nurse." Severus looked offended. "Why do we need to hire a doctor? St. Mungo's is a simple floo-jump away from Hogsmeade if anything really major happened to one of the students." He very carefully did not bring up the sore subject of fatalities.
"Thank you, Severus, I think," said Madam Pomfrey. "But Doctor Eregion has experience with a specialty that few of our living magical healers have."
"A chirurgeon is not just a doctor, he or she is a surgeon. I finally remembered the term." Minerva nodded her head, looking pleased with herself for successfully retrieving the errant scrap of memory.
"Surgeons are hardly a rarity." Severus frowned at no one in particular. He narrowed his dark eyes at Dumbledore, as if trying to penetrate the old mage's thought processes.
"You are correct. But to be perfectly precise, they are battlefield surgeons. Doctors Eregion and Kuroo are two of the few practicing chirurgeons on this planet with real experience." Dumbledore's face was grave as he added this extra fact. His professors stared at him.
"You... expect a war." Severus leaped to the obvious conclusion.
"I expect to be prepared."
The Headmaster's reply comforted no one.
"Here we are," he murmured, finding a healthy patch at the foot of an ancient oak. The small green hoofed flower poked up jauntily from the feathery foliage. Soon he had filled his collecting pouch with the fresh herb; its charmed interior would keep the cut plants preserved until he could distill and bottle them. Kneeling on the cool forest duff, he wiped the sap from the small golden sickle he had used to cut the plants.
"Excuse me?" The calm voice seemed to be right in his ear. Severus started, cutting his left hand slightly on the sickle.
At once he turned, wand out. "Who are you?" he snapped and then caught sight of his visitor. It was a woman, mounted on a horse and wrapped in a travel stained cloak of grey, the hood drawn up as if to provide further shade from the already filtered sun. Her horse was not tall so much as massive, with thick strong legs and powerful muscles. The woman sat the animal with familiar ease.
"I come in peace." She held out her right hand, empty palm evidence of her intent. Her left hand held the reins of her horse. "Permit me to introduce myself. I am Eregion of Hollin. I am sorry to have startled you, Nox Fortuna moves very quietly." She patted the neck of her piebald mount. "I seek the school known as Hogwarts. Could you direct me thence?" Her speech had a somewhat Gaelic lilt to it, and her diction was oddly formal, as if English was not her mother tongue.
Severus nodded at the woman. "I am Severus Snape. I teach Potions class at Hogwarts. The Headmaster said that you would be arriving soon. It is easier to show rather than explain; follow me." He turned in a swirl of robes and began to stride up the path toward the school.
"Master Snape, please wait, you are injured." Eregion was suddenly dismounted and moving quickly to catch him up.
"What? Ah, damn it all." The curse was without venom, merely an annoyed observation. His cut hand had been dripping merrily onto the ground. "I did buy a very good quality golden sickle."
Now that she was so close, Severus could finally get a good look at her. Eregion had thrown back her hood. Her face was unlined, yet she could not have been young if Madam Pomfrey's description of her long career was correct. Her brown skin and delicate features spoke of origins in the sunny climes of India, while her hair was white, perhaps the only obvious indicator of age.
"Will you permit me?" she asked him, reaching out for his hand, but waiting on his acquiescence.
He stared at her for a long moment then nodded. At once she took his cut hand gently and examined it. He had managed to deeply nick the web between forefinger and thumb. The wound bled at a steady trickle, showing no signs of clotting. Eregion shook her head.
"A good sickle indeed, with a sharpness charm. Although some bleeding cleans a wound, this would bleed until stanched by magic. So. Fibrilus." Severus felt a tiny sting as the edges of the cut ceased bleeding, drew tight, and then vanished. She released his hand and he examined it with interest.
"Now that is a new charm. It appears to work well enough, though," he allowed, flexing his fingers.
"Thank you. I hope to teach such healing spells to the older students, if time and circumstances allow it." Eregion looked at Nox Fortuna, who was staring intently into the forest to their right. "This forest is not entirely comfortable with visitors, and you have spilled fresh blood." In the distance something uttered a deep growl. "Perhaps we could ride double on Nox and we can leave this place behind us?" A chorus of howls, which sounded closer to them, joined the growler. Nox Fortuna stamped and snorted.
"I haven't ridden a horse since I was a child," Severus began, looking over his shoulder. Was that the sound of something large crashing through the woods? "But in this case, I will accept a lift."
"Very good. Up you go, then." Eregion let him mount first and then lightly sprang up behind him, sitting just in back of the cantle of the saddle. Severus scarcely had time to put his feet in the stirrups when the physician said, forward, causing the mare to leap away like an enormous gazelle. Without thinking he grabbed a double handful of mane to steady himself, ducking down a little as branches whizzed by over his head. Eregion did the same, leaning forward close against his back. After several great bounds, Nox Fortuna found the trail and began to increase her speed considerably.
"Is this the way?" called Eregion over the rush of the wind.
"Yes! Just keep on this trail."
"Very good. Run, my friend!" the doctor called to her horse. A chorus of angry howls sounded behind them and Severus risked a glance back. At least ten huge hound-like animals pursued them, rushing in their wake with red ears flapping.
"The Hunt!?" He craned for a better view. A branch tore at him and he would have been lifted from the saddle, except that Eregion held him in his seat and all he lost was some fabric from his robes. "What are they doing here?" He scarcely noticed his close call, he was so mystified.
"Look forward, Master Snape, lest you fall. Nox will do all that she can to keep you in the saddle, as will I, but neither of us will be of much use if you insist upon leaning out so far." Eregion's voice sounded as calm as that of a riding instructor teaching her students in the safety of her own arena, and not as if she was on the back of a horse running pell-mell for her life.
"But the Wild Hunt belongs in Wales, not Scotland!" he protested, grunting as Nox leaped over a fallen log and the jolt pushed some of the air from his lungs.
"Indeed? Perhaps they have business here?" The trail began to widen a little; ahead the gloom of the Forest lightened as they approached the edges of the wood. They burst out into the sunshine and Eregion sat up. Nox Fortuna slowed and circled, neck arched, prancing like a medieval warhorse.
"Business or not, they should stop at the edge of the Forest. The school grounds are forbidden to…" he broke off as the pack of supernatural hounds poured out of the Forest, obviously intent upon pursuing them to the very gates of Hogwarts if necessary. He made a belated grab for his wand; trying to decide which repelling spell would be best for the hounds.
"Daro!" Eregion's voice carried clear as a bell, commanding and sharp. Something flashed green in her right hand. As if they had hit an invisible shield, the hounds stopped short, stood panting for a moment, and then turned and retreated silently into the Forest.
Severus turned in the saddle to look at her without craning his neck. "What did you just do?"
"Bid them halt," she replied, tucking something on a fine silver chain into her robes.
"Without a wand?"
"You know well that a wand is not required for magic, Master Snape." Her mild tone somehow discouraged further immediate enquiries, and their approach to Hogwarts itself prevented the Potions Master from pursuing the subject further. Nox Fortuna pranced out onto the green lawns at a slow, lofty trot. At Fang's bark, Hagrid ambled out of his house, then waved at them, a grin blossoming on his bearded face.
"Perfessor Snape! Who's that with yeh?" he called, striding down from the cottage to greet them. The half-giant groundskeeper eyed Nox with admiration.
"Hagrid, this is Doctor Eregion. Professor Dumbledore has been expecting her. Doctor Eregion, this is Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwart's groundskeeper." Severus found it impossible to do a proper introduction with the person being introduced sitting behind him. He felt Eregion give a soft chuckle before she spoke.
"Well met, Keeper Hagrid. You have a noble hound, I see." She nodded at Fang, who wagged his tail at her happily.
"Well, thank yeh, Doctor." He grinned at the complement. "'An that's a lovely mare ye've got, a Gypsy Vanner, isn't she? Here, if Professor Dumbledore is expecting yeh, I'll put yer horse up and you can go straight in." He held the bridle as first Eregion then Severus dismounted.
"Thank you, Hagrid." Eregion looked at him curiously. "Are you sure it won't be a bother to care for Nox Fortuna? She needs to be cooled out, given a rubdown, and some fresh hay or grass, and water, of course."
"It's no trouble at all, ma'am. Just leave her to me." Hagrid moved away, holding the reins, and Nox followed him willingly, looking almost pony-sized compared to the big man who led her. "Come along, yeh pretty thing," he crooned to her as they moved away.
"She'll be all right with him, don't worry." Severus felt compelled to add as they walked briskly toward the school gateway. "Hagrid is very good with all sorts of animals."
"I felt it was so, but I didn't want to be a burden. I don't mind attending to Nox's care myself."
"I think given the current state of affairs, it is best we see the Headmaster straight away and not linger over minor matters." Severus walked faster, and Eregion stretched her own long legs to keep up. She gave him a measuring look out of pale aqua eyes.
"And what is the 'current state of affairs', Master Snape?"
The black-clad Potions Master shook his head. "Better to have Professor Dumbledore tell you all of it." He gave her a tight, quick smile. "Besides, our Headmaster is a very good host; he will at least serve you tea and biscuits while he tells you all the details."
"Ah." She was silent as they entered the main hall and moved up the
corridors. "The situation is that bad?" Without further comment, Eregion
followed him up the stairs.
Over the course of the summer, Dr. Eregion settled into the life of Hogwarts
as if she had been there for years. Madam Pomfrey gave her quarters in one
of the towers above the infirmary. During the day she could be found in the
clinic with Madam Pomfrey, attending to anyone who had an illness, and going
over the supplies. When there was need, they would journey to Hogsmeade to make
house calls to the wizarding community. Once word spread of her location, the
doctor was sometimes summoned to Saint Mungo's to assist the staff there. Severus
became used to seeing her about in the castle or on the grounds. Dressed in
simple robes of pale aqua-green, she was a distinctive form. When not on call
she could often be found in the library reading some of the old volumes on magical
medical cases or riding her spotted horse over the countryside surrounding the
school. The Wild Hunt, at the request of Dumbledore, returned to their normal
haunts. Several weeks passed quietly and July turned into August.
Severus flipped through a potion-spotted book, keeping half an eye on the heavy cauldron that boiled thinly near his desk. The smell of sulfur and skink tails combined to make the air in his office stifling, but he ignored it.
"Students will be back in three weeks and have I found anything new yet to keep the seventh-years out of trouble? Hah!" He marked a page in triumph with a flick of his wand. A breeze of clear air entered the room and he looked up to see Dr. Eregion peering in at him through the half-opened door.
"Good Day, Master Snape. Will it disturb your work if I enter?"
Severus looked at her in some surprise. He had never seen the healer in the basement halls of Hogwarts. "Not at all. Do come in."
She moved into the chamber, leaving the door ajar, which served to draw out the fumes that had gathered during his potion brewing. She looked around in curiosity at the tall shelves filled with ingredients and completed potions. Potions in all the colors of the rainbow, in bottles tall, squat, faceted, and plain; they crowded the shelves from floor to ceiling. Jars of pickled screwts vied for place with canned jubjub eyes. Tins marked "Mummy Dust" sat beside laquered boxes labeled "Caution - Ashwinder Eggs".
Severus checked his cauldron quickly and gave the magical stirring spoon a poke; it stirred a little faster. When he turned back to Eregion, he found the doctor looking at him with a calm, quizzical expression on her brown face. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Doctor?" He gestured at the cobweb-hung recesses of his office. "It cannot be for the amenities."
Eregion smiled at that, teeth flashing whitely for just a moment, then she sobered. "I need a potion brewed, Master Snape. Professor Sprout said you would be the person to consult on this."
"Professor Sprout?" Severus considered this reference for a moment. "What sort of potion were you wanting? Is the infirmary pharmacy out of boneheal or sleeping draughts? I believe Madam Pomfrey usually acquires standard medical stock from the apothecary in Hogsmeade, or from Saint Mungo's." He glanced at his bubbling cauldron, but the product seemed to be progressing well on its own. With a word, he banked the fire underneath and left it to steam.
"Yes, I know Master Stilwell in Hogsmeade normally supplies all of our medical stock here at the school, but what I require is not normal medical stock." She gazed thoughtfully at her hands, touching the long fingers together lightly before her. "I require a potion that has not been brewed for long ages of men."
"Do you, indeed?" A gesture of his wand served to close the door to his office. Severus sat on the edge of his desk, folding his arms across his chest, still holding the wand. He eyed Eregion suspiciously. "You are not wanting anything illegal, are you?" His voice dropped a tone, becoming much darker. "There are any number of potions that have not been brewed for ages - and for good reason. Many of them are hideously perilous. Knowledge of them is dangerous, as well; the minions of Voldemort are eager to collect all such forbidden potions and will stop at nothing to acquire them."
Eregion looked at him, sitting upright like a man on guard, holding a wand in lieu of a sword and once again her sober face lightened for a moment in a smile. "No, Master Snape, it is no potion for harm, quite the opposite. The brewing of it has been lost and I feel that it is time to return it to use, given the situation at hand. I wish to have some on stock in our infirmary against any future need." She opened her outer robe and rummaged in an inner pocket, drawing out a handful of dried leaves. "Here is the main ingredient."
She passed the dried leaves to Severus who handled them carefully, turning them over and inspecting them closely, then sniffing at them delicately. Even long dried they had a faint, clean smell. "What are these? I'd say Mentha piperita[1] , but I know it would not be correct, the leaves are far too long."
"In the common tongue we speak it is called 'kingsfoil'. In the old language it was known as Athelas."
"Athelas. Have you the recipe for this potion?" Severus was becoming interested. A truly new potion was a rare thing. The smell of the dried herb had convinced him that the main ingredient was not in and of itself harmful, which lessened his worries that Eregion might have ulterior motives.
"I do indeed." Eregion drew a slip of parchment from her robes and gave it to him. Severus unfolded it and quickly scanned the list of ingredients and the instructions, his keen face thoughtful.
"This appears to be a simple decoction, with the leaves of Athelas being brewed after first soaking." He glanced up at Eregion over the parchment, dark eyes narrowing.
"You have a question."
"Yes. This recipe could be followed by a first year student, or by yourself, since I assume that you are competent in the basics of potion brewing. Why ask me to make it?"
"It is not simply a matter of throwing the correct ingredients into a cauldron and brewing tea," Eregion chuckled softly. "If it were, I could indeed make it myself, as you say."
Frowning Severus dropped his gaze back to the instructions. "What is so difficult then? Your recipe says, 'first take the soaked leaves of Athelas into your hands and breathe on them, then place them in water just off the boil…' really, Doctor, anyone could do this."
"Let me see your hands, Master Snape." Eregion held out her own hands in invitation.
With a shrug, Severus held out his hands to her, and she took them and turned them so she could see either side. Her fingers traced delicately over the surface of his potion-stained skin in a way that somehow felt intimate, as if she could read both mind and heart by the simple act of touch. Severus shuddered inside but before he could snatch his hands away, she released him gently.
"I was right. I knew it when I healed your hand, when we first met. You can make this potion."
"Will you please explain why I can make it, and not yourself?" he asked with some asperity, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robes.
"Athelas was an herb created to serve the ancient kings. Other healers such as myself might find it useful, but only the king's hands could release the full power of the herb." She looked at him expectantly.
Severus rolled his eyes skyward and took a deep, steadying breath. "Doctor Eregion, last I looked, I wore no crown, nor do I stand in line to inherit one."
"Ahh, the external trappings are irrelevant in this day and age, my good Master Snape. The kings of yore are long gone, but their bloodline lives on, in the blood, body, and bone of their many descendants. Quite a few of them live on these fair isles. Many are muggles. And some are wizards. And then there are the very few who understand the subtleties of herb-lore and potions. Like yourself. Please Master Snape, do try." She leaned forward in urgency. "I could indeed brew the potion as described in the recipe you hold, it is hardly beyond my skill. But it would simply be a sweet-smelling tonic to cleanse the air in a foul room. To make the Potion For the Lifting of the Shadow, the hands of the king - or his descendent - are needed. Will you not try? Many people who may otherwise die this year might live, if you succeed."
"Potion For the Lifting of the Shadow?" he murmured, looking again at the parchment, the dour lines of his face becoming deeper as he thought. He raised his eyes to meet her pale gaze. "You must understand that my hands are not… clean. The potion may not meet your expectations." The confession came slowly, painfully. "I have something of a past, you see."
"It seems I have more faith in you than you have in yourself. All I ask is that you try. And believe this; the ability is as much part of you as the color of your eyes. No person, no deed, no matter how dire, can remove it from you." She did not seem the least bit worried by his oblique reference to his years as a Death Eater.
Severus knew when he'd been outmaneuvered. "Very well, Doctor, I will do my best. Come by tomorrow, after lunch. I should have some results by then, whether positive or negative."
"I will, and thank you." Eregion gave him a formal bow and left, closing the door behind her.
Severus stared at the barrier blindly for a minute, then looked again at the
recipe, his mouth forming a pained scowl. "Potion For the Lifting of
the Shadow. Ha. Brewed by me." Rubbing his left arm absently, he sank
into his chair, pondering over the vagaries of fate and the blissful ignorance
of itinerant doctors.
Eregion knocked on Severus' office door precisely at noon. "Enter," called the voice of its occupant, sounding somewhat distant. She pushed the door open, breathed the air inside and smiled.
"Master Snape, you've done it!" She entered the office, letting the door close behind her. The very air seemed to sparkle with a liveliness that it had been lacking the day before. A clean copper cauldron hung over the embers of a small fire, the liquid inside steaming gently. The cauldron was the source of that intensely invigorating scent.
"Master Snape?" Eregion took her eyes from the promising cauldron and looked at him fully. Severus was seated at his desk, his pale face gone nearly paper-white. His left arm wore a bandage below the elbow and he rested his chin against his right hand, using the arm as a prop to keep himself upright.
"You're ill! What has happened?" In two strides she crossed the room to his desk, reaching for his left arm.
Severus stirred and sat up, using the fingers of his right hand to wave her back. "Wait," he said in a low, raspy voice. Eregion stopped at once, retreated a pace, and waited in silence. The Potions Master collected himself and spoke with an effort, as if he were very tired.
"Firstly, I believe I have been successful in the brewing of the potion. I began the process early this morning, and by now I have managed to use all the leaves of Athelas which you gave me." He nodded at a tidy row of blue glass bottles, sealed with stoppers, and labeled 'Athelas Decoction'. "This cauldron contains the last brewing, but at that point I had to sit down and regain my equilibrium. That was perhaps ten minutes before you arrived."
"Master Snape, the brewing of the potion has given you vertigo? That doesn't seem right. Its primary effect is to clear the mind, not befuddle it." Eregion's eyes held a hundred questions and she regarded his bandaged arm with concern.
"Oh no, it hasn't caused dizziness," he chuckled wryly, rubbing at his temple with his right hand. "As you have said, the potion causes an extreme clarity. But the effect of that clarity on me has been a greater appreciation of pain."
"Pain? But that's…" She took a step closer. "May I examine your arm, please?"
For a long moment Severus did not answer, looking as if he were torn between the impulse to flee or fight. Eregion waited patiently and finally he grunted, which she took to be a form of assent. Pulling over a spare chair she sat down beside the desk and began to unwrap the bandage. The inner layers were crusty with dried blood and she removed it as gently as she could. Finally the arm was exposed, the surface marred with rows of deep, bloody scratches. The scratches could not quite hide the mark, which lurked beneath the skin, pulsing in shades of sullen grey-black. Eregion raised her eyes to Severus. He had been watching her the entire time, waiting for her reaction. His matted hair half-hid his face and his entire stance reminded her of a wild moor pony, mistrustful and injured, but desperate enough to tolerate the help of a stranger.
"This is a wound of dark magic," she said quietly. "I felt something, some faint trace of it when I healed your small cut last month, but I could not tell for sure then that it was an active lesion." From her robes she drew out a number of charmed cloths and began to clean away the blood. "I can feel the pain of it. Is it always like this?"
"N-no. Not usually. It has been quiescent for a long time, then it reactivated when… when Voldemort returned." He looked away, the muscles in his jaw working. "Since the… disaster, it has been quiet again. Until this morning, when I began brewing that potion." He twitched a little as the doctor cleaned over the dark mark itself.
"Breathe deeply and try to center yourself," she told him, fishing out a small bottle from a pocket. She uncorked it and applied the fluid to a clean pad. This she began to wipe over the scratches, which immediately began to shrink and heal. "I am very sorry the brewing of Athelas has caused this to flare up. The potion you have created was originally made to help banish such injuries as these."
"I do not know about banishing, but from the moment I brewed the first batch, the mark became painfully active and began to hurt even more with each batch I made." He shuddered deep under his skin, looking at his arm, which was now healed of the surface injuries, leaving the Dark Mark plainly visible. He glowered at Eregion through the curtain of his hair. "Aren't you going to ask me how I got it?"
She smiled at him sadly. "No, Master Snape. I am familiar with the ways in which people can do themselves a mischief. You do not need to tell me the particulars, unless you think it will help us devise a cure."
"A cure?" he laughed bitterly. "Voldemort's death perhaps!" He reached toward the mark as if to scratch it again, then managed to stop himself. "Better to devise a cure for idiocy." He dug his nails into the pitted surface of his desk and tried to calm his ragged breathing.
"Alas, for human folly I cannot offer any easy cures. But look here." She opened the left side of her robes and from its depths she took a handful of items that she fanned out in a quick movement over the surface of the desk.
Severus found himself looking at an array of long slender objects that seemed to be made of glass. Under the torchlight in his office the objects gleamed brightly. Most were smoky black, a few were dark blue, and one was clear. They were pointed at one end while the other end seemed to be tapered and rounded, as if to serve as a handle. "What are these?" He lifted one of the black ones curiously, his pain momentarily forgotten as he examined the strange item.
"The tools of my trade, Master Snape."
"Tools?" He replaced the black one and lifted one of the dark blue ones carefully. It was smaller and the sharper end swept up in a keen curve. "My name is Severus, if you wish."
"I have only Eregion to offer in turn," she said softly. "The rest of my name has been… lost. But I answer to that, and will not take insult if you call me by it." She smiled slightly. "And yes, what is a chirurgeon without her scalpels?"
"Scalpels! These are knives?" He regarded the gleaming array with something like alarmed respect.
"They are 'knives' in the same way a claymore is a 'knife'. These are the palette of the painter, the words in the heart of the poet. These are the very finest surgical instruments, forged in the heart of Mauna Loa by Madam Pele herself. They can open living flesh and leave no scar." She lifted one of the smoky black blades. "With this, I could cut that dark wound from your body."
He shook his head slowly. "No. It is impossible. The spell that created the mark is keyed to Voldemort himself. As long as he lives, the mark will remain."
Part of his mind idly reflected that had it been any other wizard or witch sitting beside him holding a very keen knife and offering to cut on his person, he would have fought them off at once. The doctor however was absolutely calm and rational sounding, and so he sat where he was, discussing the foul brand on his arm dispassionately as if it were an interesting problem belonging to someone else.
"Don't you think I have tried to remove it myself?" He nodded at the bloodstained rags piled on his desktop. "You see how much progress I have made."
"Hmm. I do believe you have tried. I also understand the mark is a product of powerful dark magic." Eregion put the scalpel down and reached out with her hands, holding them several inches above his arm, then moving to sweep her hands lightly up his arm and over his shoulders and chest, never quite touching. Severus could feel the soft pressure of her magical aura as she scanned him. She settled herself back in her chair when she was finished and took a slow, deep breath. "You are correct, Severus. I could remove your arm at the shoulder and still the taint would be in your blood. I must admit I've not seen a binding spell so strong since the Third Age." She looked away thoughtfully for a moment, then back to the Potions Master.
"Although the cure is at the moment beyond me, permit me to think about it. There may yet be something that can be done. And in the interim," she nodded at his arm, "if I remove the outer mark and some of the underlying tissue, I feel that I can at least force it back into quiescence and offer you some relief from your pain."
Severus sat up in his chair and looked at her in some surprise. "You could do that? I… it would be good, not to be in pain, even if it is only temporary." He looked at his arm, his face haggard. "The mark does serve a greater purpose for the time being, so even if there were a cure available, I do not think I could take it right now. But if you could…" he looked at Eregion's array of volcanic cutlery and swallowed tightly as he made up his mind. "Very well doctor - Eregion. Do what you can."
In Severus' experience, magical cures often hurt. In some cases one might find the experience of the cure far worse than the original injury itself. With that uppermost in his mind, he steeled himself as he watched the doctor select one of the scalpels in preparation for the surgery she had promised. As she drew his left arm a bit closer to her on his desktop, she asked quietly. "Severus, the bottles of Athelas potion which you have prepared, why did you not label them as I described?"
He looked at the line of blue bottles sitting on a working bench near the cauldron. "I was not sure you would want them labeled with such a provocative description, doctor. Lord Voldemort has spies everywhere. You cannot be sure that he will not learn the contents of your medical cupboards. I thought it better to label it in a more innocuous fashion." He felt a slight scratching on his forearm and nerved himself for the anticipated stab of pain.
"That makes sense to me. Thank you for your foresight. And you can look now, I am done."
"You're what?" His face was incredulous.
"Done. With the surgery. See?"
Severus stared down at his arm. A faint line of new skin marked the place where the dark mark had been. Beside his arm on the tabletop lay what looked like a rather smashed spider in a little pool of blood. As he watched, it smoked, shriveled and withered into fine ash. "That - that was all?" He rubbed his fingers over his arm, which was now blessedly pain free.
"Oh. Well, if you'd rather it hurt, I'm sure I could have arranged it, but you should have told me before I began," Eregion said with a smile in her voice.
"No! No, never mind. I'm just surprised. I was sure it would be, well, unpleasant." He rose to his feet and shook himself, letting the sleeve of his robe fall down to cover his arm. As Eregion gathered her scalpels back into the pockets of her robe, he moved to the cauldron. The smell of the potion now struck him as pleasantly invigorating and he breathed it deeply as he conjured the potion into the last set of blue bottles.
"For a chirurgeon, a sharp scalpel is everything. A dull blade is a disgrace."
"I should think even a sharp blade would still hurt when it cut." Severus flicked his wand and labels appeared on the bottles. Another flick summoned the stoppers and the job was done. He nodded in satisfaction at the results.
"It is all in the wrists." Eregion held up her strong hands, and smiled.
"Well then." Severus shooed the bottles into a box, then with a wave of his wand levitated it. "Here is your potion, I hope it will last for some time." He scooted the floating box to the doctor, who took it in tow with a gesture. "And finally," he strode to the doctor and before she could say anything, he took both her hands and kissed them on the back, first the left, then the right before releasing them. "Merlin's blessing on your clever hands and sharp blades. You are welcome to use them on me any time it becomes needful."
Thoroughly taken aback, Eregion finally managed to speak. "I do hope you
will not need my scalpels ever again, Severus. Thank you for the potion and
for all your efforts." With a quick bow, she turned and left the office,
the enchanted box floating in her wake.
"We'll beat the old Lord, we will!" The cloaked figure chuckled as he marked magical lines on the dark stone floor of the ruined abbey.
"It's about time, Barker. He's held sway for far too long. He should've stayed dead." The second speaker lit tall candles along the half-ruined remnants of the sanctuary walls. The candle flames burned blue-silver, casting a cold pallid light over the area.
"Yes, yes, Willoughby. Quite right. Time for a young, strong Lord to rise in his place." The third figure held a bowl of dark liquid and waited for the others to finish their preparations. His pale eyes were feverish with anticipation. "Once we summon the Black Knight to do our bidding, we'll be unstoppable. Voldemort will bow to us, along with everyone else on this miserable island."
"A triumvirate of power!" The first speaker gloated. As he finished the final line, the completed diagram glowed sickly green. "The portal is ready, Ruger!"
"Excellent." The one named Ruger stepped into the center of the magical diagram with his bowl. "And here is the blood of the eldest of dragons to fuel our magics." Placing the bowl at the center, he walked to the side of the diagram and nodded to his co-conspirators, who had each taken a side of the green triangle glowing on the old stone.
Raising their wands and their voices, they chanted. For a long time, nothing seemed to happen, then as the last lines were spoken, the bowl spouted forth a column of fire, which seemed to touch the sky. With a thunderclap, the fire was snuffed out, the green diagram faded away and the candles likewise dimmed and failed. The three young wizards stared into the center of the diagram, waiting.
"Did it work?" Willoughby's voice was hoarse.
"Shh! Look!" Ruger pointed. There, in the center of the chamber, something tall blotted out the stars above the roofless room. A horse, black as midnight, snorted and stamped, kicking away the empty bowl. On the horse sat a rider, robed and armored in black. The three wizards could hear the horse breathing, but from the rider came no sound save a low hiss. The air was suddenly freezing cold, as if the gates of winter had been opened this summer night. Slowly, the rider turned his head to look at the wizards surrounding him.
"Black Knight, we have Summoned you, now you must obey us!" Barker shouted boldly, gesturing with his wand.
The dark rider pivoted his mount slowly. From the hidden mouth finally came a sound. Thin, inhuman laughter pealed forth, causing ice to form on the stones of the abbey. The black horse plunged forward and the three would-be dark lords only had time to scream once.
Severus trudged up the winding stone stairway in the western tower above the infirmary wing. Now that school had started up again, if one wanted to send a private owl, one had to find a nice out of the way place to do so. At the highest window he sat on the broad sill and finished the note, a carefully worded description of the new staff member at Hogwarts and a very carefully phrased explanation of the flare-up of the Dark Mark caused by a "potions accident" triggered by a clumsy student. This was only his duty as Voldemort's supposedly loyal spy. When he was done, he released the owl and it silently glided away into the evening sky.
It was a dangerous game he played, and the stakes had gotten higher this past year, much higher. He sighed deeply, trying to ease the tension in his back and shoulders. Turning around in the narrow space, he began the descent through the tower. As he worked his way lower, the sound of voices drifted up. One of the voices was familiar and he slowed, listening. Moving quietly he followed the sound to a window. Carefully he peered out. Doctor Eregion stood on a broad balcony below; belatedly he realized it belonged to her apartment in this tower.
The wind surged in a chill blast and then dropped away into a gentle breeze, offering a brief foretaste of fall. Eregion leaned on the cool stone parapet and looked away into the night. Out of the darkness, a voice came, as if the wind itself had been given a tongue.
"Noldoriel, what do you here, in the World That Was Bent?" whispered out of the air, soft and deep and utterly unhuman. "It has been longer than long since your kind walked this earth."
Eregion turned her head slightly toward the sound and answered in a similarly quiet tone. "I was Called to serve. And so I am living here in this land and doing what needs to be done."
"I had thought your folk had finished with do-ing in these mortal lands. Can you not return home?"
Eregion looked out over the parapet from her high position in the western tower. Far below she could see Hagrid's cottage, Nox's paddock, and beyond, the eaves of the Forbidden Forest. "The Way is there. If I choose to think on it, it calls to me." She shrugged. "If I do not think on it, the call is faint, and not troublesome. I am meant to stay here, I feel, until the work is finished." She looked into the gloom of the parapet to her right. "And what of yourself, Son of the North Wind? You can fly to Valinor, if you choose. I could ask your own question in return. Why stay here?"
A sudden gust of wind swept over the parapet, and Severus pressed himself against the stone and held his breath lest any sound betray his presence. From his vantage point slightly above Eregion he could see down onto the walled balcony that ringed the tower. The air shimmered and the gloom coalesced, seeming somehow to become solid. That black substance moved, the clouds above parted, and moonlight rippled over ebony muscles and shot violet iridescence into the feathers of a winged horse, coal-black, without a bit of white on his body. A Thestral! Severus stared down at the animal. The most magical of a magical breed, and legends say unlucky. But unlucky for whom? He strained his ears to hear the rest of the conversation over the beating of his heart.
"Noldoriel, what do I want with the Undying Lands? Land is for people without wings. I and my kindred want the freedom of the upper air, not the land below. We go where we want, when we want." The ebony stallion chuckled. "No, a visit might be pleasant, but the sky is my home; the mountaintop my nest. Not all the building of human- or elvenkind can match the grandeur of the clouds. I need nothing more."
"Great is your wisdom North Star," Eregion bowed respectfully to the Thestral. They stood quietly for some time. Finally, she spoke again. "I would ask if I may: why did you come here?"
"The wind sent word of your presence. I wished to see for myself." He paused and turned his long neck to preen a feather on his right wing. "The wind has told me of the presence of other things, as well." The finely-chiseled head, like that of an Arabian, only larger, turned to look at the doctor. North Star's eyes shone like backlit sapphires.
"Things?" Eregion frowned slightly.
"Old things. Things that I thought had passed long ago, when the One was destroyed at the end of the Third Age." The Thestral ceased speaking. On the breeze echoed the thread of a faint cry, filled with cold bitterness. Eregion shuddered and the summer air chilled.
"I am not… whole, North Star. I was Called from the Halls of Waiting. This body is not the one I began with. My memories are not entirely complete, and I have lost my name. But I do remember certain things, and those I could never forget, no matter how many lives I have or how many names I lose." Her frown deepened. "What you say, it cannot be. They are gone. Destroyed with the Ring."
"I only know what the wind tells me." North Star watched a cloud scud over the half moon. "There is something foul in the land, that smells of an ancient evil."
"I will watch for it. It may well be the works of Voldemort that you scent. He has become much more active of late and war threatens the wizard-folk."
"Who?" The stallion snorted wetly, producing a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sneeze. "He is just a recent wart on the backside of the world. I smell the return of an old, gaping wound."
"If it is wounds you detect, then a healer is needed." Eregion fell silent, as did her winged companion. Finally she nodded to him. "Very well, I shall do whatever I can. If you find it, call me, please."
"I will." Sweeping his great wings out to their full stretch, the
Thestral leaped gracefully over the parapet and was instantly borne away on
the wind. A moment later he vanished from sight, cloaked under his natural invisibility.
Far below, Nox Fortuna whinnied loudly, hailing the equine visitor no one else
could see. Eregion stayed where she was, leaning on the stone wall and looking
out beyond the Forbidden Forest. 
Severus slowly eased himself back inside the upper tower, moving carefully so as not to dislodge any masonry from the crumbling lip of the narrow window. Severus now found himself with even more questions than when he had started his impromptu spying expedition. What is Eregion? The Thestral called her "noldoriel" - was that a title? A name? She said she had lost her name, and that she had been "called to serve". What happened to her? What IS she?
Keeping his thoughts to himself, he descended the tower briskly and wended his way down the levels of Hogwarts until he found himself in front of the library. Madam Pince peered up at him as he approached her desk.
"It is late, I was going to close up within the hour. May I help you, Professor Snape?"
A light seemed to go off in his brain and he replied in a rush, "Anything you have on the One… Ring, please."
"The One Ring?" Miss Pince looked blank.
"Well, if you don't have anything, I won't trouble you further." He turned as if to leave, and felt the librarian seize his arm in a firm grip.
"Just a moment! Let me search." Her mouth made a firm, thin line.
"My thanks," he replied, hiding a smile as she bustled off, muttering book-finding spells under her breath. She disappeared into the stacks, some few books answering her summons and flying down like musty birds. Severus settled into an old, overstuffed chair to wait, picking up a frayed copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and thumbing through it idly.
"Here you are, Professor Snape!" Severus started as a pile of thick, very fusty tomes thudded down onto the bookstand beside him. Miss Pince strode out of the stacks triumphantly. "Mind you," she made haste to add as he reached eagerly for the uppermost volume, "you'll need at least one advanced translation spell for the oldest. Use the complete translation spell, not the student's short version."
"So I see," he said, staring at the page of sharp-edged, branched runic text that greeted his eyes as he opened the book to the first page. Removing his wand from his robes, he cast the full translation spell. The runes flowed like rippling water, then reformed into the more familiar Roman alphabet. "Hacz nan kabedas'dar Eregion." Severus' heart leaped at the familiar name. He scowled as he read, realizing he needed yet another spell to handle the ancient language, which was like nothing he had ever seen. Keeping a firm grip on his impatience, he carefully cast another spell and finally the words reformed into English. "The Chronicle of the Land of Eregion," he read in triumph and then frowned again. Land of Eregion? Not a person? Perhaps the family name of the founder of the kingdom?
He turned to a chapter deeper in the book and began reading, eager to learn more.
"In the year of the Elvenking Aranath, the Human King Gol-dorion fell under the influence of the Great Enemy of all kindreds. At the urging of the Shadow, he accepted the gift of a magical ring, which would supposedly grant eternal life. So was one of the wisest of the kings of men in the land caught in a most deadly snare. All too soon the ring wore away his mortal substance and he became known in time as the Witch-king of Angmar, the Lord of the Iron Lands, and great was the dread of his presence, almost as great as that of his terrible Master. Eight other kings of men fell prey to the same trap, and the lands became dark under their rule."
Severus sat up, hands still on the pages. A magical ring? Cursed, more likely! Didn't these people understand how such things worked? He drew in a deep breath, rubbing his left arm without thinking. It was long ago… so long ago that elves were kings? They must have borne little resemblance to our common house-elves. He smirked at the thought of a house-elf crowned like a king. He looked down again at the page.
"Dwarves, elves, and humans alike fled before the baneful kings and soon emissaries went to the elvenking to request his help in driving this plague out of the land. The elvenking sent his warriors to the aid of the human lords and so the first war of many began."
Severus paused again. So this is a chronicle of ancient wars, elves, humans, and dwarves against a powerful dark wizard. Severus sighed. Sounds almost familiar. He turned ahead another chapter in the volume.
"The land of Eregion was abandoned then, after the fall of so many doughty human warriors. Not even the Noldor of Gondolin were able to defeat the Witch-king and his brothers, and so the survivors fled to their mountain fastnesses."
Noldor! Very close to "noldoriel", but what is it? A species of elf, perhaps? Severus read as the evening wore on and the library slowly emptied of students.
"Ahem." Severus started at the sound of Madam Pince clearing her throat. She stood before his chair, peering at him over her spectacles. "Professor, it is past time to close the Library. Will you be checking out any of these books?" He looked around in surprise. The library was entirely empty; even Hermione Granger had left.
"Yes. All of them please." He waited impatiently while the head librarian cast the spell to indicate the books were checked-out by Severus Snape. Once she had finished, he cast a quick levitation and "follow me" charm on the weighty pile of books. Madam Pince watched him leave, the books following him like obedient dogs. He strode quickly down into the basement to his apartment, where he soon installed himself before the fire with a pot of tea and his trove of information.
"Doctor, you do not look so well today," Severus commented to her as she sat beside him at supper the next day. The grand hall was filled with the general hum of several hundred hungry students all eating busily and talking around their food. Eregion had been picking at her meal, shoving the food around on her plate and making patterns with the peas, but eating very little. She looked at him blankly, as if she were seeing someone or something else.
"Something terrible has happened. North Star was right. I can feel it. The air is wrong. The sun is dimmed."
Severus stared at her. Does she know I heard…? He shook his head slightly, Paranoia serves no use, he told himself, then began again. "Come now, there's nothing wrong - other than the school being full of students who insist upon detonating their cauldrons on a daily basis." He tried to sound cheerful, which for him was a stretch. He lowered his voice for her ears alone. "Besides, there's not been a single sign of You-Know-Who."
The doctor still looked through him, rather than at him. "This isn't Voldemort," she whispered. "This is a deadly peril that should not even be in this time and place. The Shadow is coming. What shall I do? I can't remember. It has been too long." Several tears ran from her eyes as she spoke to him. There was no violence to her weeping, nor did she make any sound of sobbing, which to Severus made it worse somehow, that flow of silent tears. No one else at the table had noticed, assuming the two professors were simply having a quiet chat between themselves.
"Eregion. Don't. You are sitting in one of the strongest bastions of magical power in this country, on this planet. We've defeated Voldemort before, we can defeat this." She seemed at least to hear him, that time.
"Severus. That potion you made? We will be needing it I fear, if what I sense has come to pass." She rose and bowed to him and to the rest of the table. "Please excuse me. I need my memories." She left the dining hall at a pace just short of a run.
Professor Sprout, who had been sitting on Eregion's left, looked after her in confusion. "Her memories? She looks far too young to be needing a Remembrall or a Pensieve."
Severus waited impatiently for enough time to elapse that his exit would be unremarkable. As soon as he was out of sight of those in the hall, he ran for the main doors and then paused in the courtyard. Where would she go? Drawing his wand, he murmured a simple location spell. The wand emitted a bright spark, which twirled into the air and stopped by pointing outside the castle. Hagrid's cottage? Very well. He stretched his legs and soon was before the groundskeeper's dwelling.
The sound of hoofbeats made him turn. Eregion cantered toward him on Nox Fortuna. She rode without bridle or saddle, sitting the animal easily, as if the two of them had merged both body and will. The mare halted nearby, streaming sweat and blowing hard, as if she had run for miles. The doctor slid off at once and patted the mare's neck, speaking softly to her.
"Where did you go?" Severus asked, trying to keep the worst of his concern out of his voice.
"Looking for the source of my unease," she replied, "but finding it not. I know it is here, on the Earth, but I cannot detect where. It… he, has gone to ground." She began walking along the path around the outside of the horse paddock, cooling out Nox, who followed her happily. Severus fell into step with her and walked at her side.
"Eregion, it must be Voldemort's activities or movements you sense. Who else could it be? The Ministry of Magic would surely tell us - or the Headmaster for certain - if any new dark wizard had arisen recently."
She shot him a long look out of her pale eyes. "Oh Severus, I have a long list of terrors I have seen through the ages. Shall I list them for you?"
"But they must all be dead and gone. Voldemort is the most powerful dark wizard alive in the world today, and that is more than enough. You shouldn't dwell on things that are past, it isn't healthy."
She laughed softly. "Dead?" She shook her head sadly. "How do you kill something that cannot die?" Eregion patted Nox as they began another circuit of the paddock. "The venerable Gautama once said, There is no fire like passion. There are no chains like hate. Illusion is a net. Desire a rushing river.2 This being is trapped in a prison of his own making and it has left him mad, and powerful beyond mere words. I shudder to think he walks the earth again."
"You're not talking about a person, that's philosophy or religion. I've never heard of the Wizard Gautama, anyway."
She smiled briefly at his offhand comment. "Gautama was someone far beyond being a wizard, my friend. He was a human Awake to the nature of reality. Unfortunately, there were once people who were his polar opposite, so deep in the snares of illusion, hate, and passion that they ceased being human and became something… other." She frowned and examined the backs of her hands in the waning light of evening. "There were also beings who had the power to oppose them. Their like are now gone from the Earth."
"And were there so many wizards then, in that long-ago time?"
"No, very few. The use of magic was a rarity."
"Well then, let us wait and see. The modern world is full of highly competent wizards and witches, even discounting the high fool quotient at the Ministry." Severus snorted with thinly veiled contempt. "If this evil being of yours comes to light, I'm sure they and we will be able to deal with it."
"Severus, I truly hope you are right." Eregion sighed deeply and walked onward with her horse. Severus kept her company, more than a little worried that she would take it into her mind to go haring off into the Forbidden Forest in search of her anticipated menace. He wasn't at all convinced that there was anything worse in the world beyond Voldemort, but he knew for certain that the Forest was full of carnivorous creatures who would certainly not turn down an evening snack of foolish professors.
At last the horse had been cooled out, groomed, and returned to her paddock, where she fell to cropping the grass contentedly. Together they returned to the castle proper, Severus doing his best to make normal, inconsequential 'shop talk' to distract the doctor from her worries, which for him meant discussions on the niceties of brewing potions.
They were met at the entrance to the main hall by a group of distraught Slytherin girls in nightgowns and bathrobes. "Professor! Doctor!" they cried, "It's dreadful! Please, can't you help?"
"Control yourselves," Severus said in his best command voice. "You, Drou Menead, speak for the group. What has happened?"
The girl thus picked, a 6th year, swallowed hard, nodded and said, "This owl, Professor Snape! He flew into our dorm and fell on the floor. He's hurt… something hurt him! Who'd want to harm a message-owl like that? He's so cold. Can't you save him, please?" She held out what looked like a limp feather duster.
Severus stared at it and felt his heart lurch. It was the messenger-owl he'd sent out the night before. Its right claw was gone and it looked thoroughly dead. Before he could say anything, Eregion stepped forward and took the injured bird into her arms. "I'll care for him, Drou, don't worry." Her calm words seemed to steady the unhappy girls. She handled the owl with great care. "His life energy is very low, but he is young and strong. I will take him up to the infirmary now and repair his body. Thank you for helping him." She bowed to the girls and walked swiftly away with her burden.
"Professor, was it Voldemort who tried to kill the owl? What if he comes here again?" The students were upset and hyperexcited over their adventure and Severus ended up taking the better part of an hour getting them back to the Slytherin dorm and settled, checking the integrity of the shields around Hogwarts, and otherwise performing the duties of a night watchman. At last he felt comfortable enough to climb up to the infirmary to check on Eregion. It must be some sort of curse. First Harry Potter and his friends, and now a doctor so fey she makes Trelawney look sensible! He shook his head. Listen to me. Much more of this and I'll be spending my nights wandering around muttering like Filch!
He pushed open the door and entered the main clinic. Eregion sat on her desk, legs crossed and eyes closed, looking as if she were meditating, or perhaps napping; it was hard to tell. The wounded owl sat on a perch nearby, its missing claw replaced by a clever silvery prosthesis, which enabled it to perch normally. It looked rather disgruntled, but very much alive, much to Severus' astonishment. There was no sign of the note he had given it.
"You saved him!" he couldn't quite hide his surprise.
Eregion opened her eyes and looked at the owl. "Yes. The harbinger. The first of many, I fear. I could repair him, but what of future victims? I have seen into his mind. He has seen the Enemy, and suffered harm as a result." She frowned, looking almost as unhappy as the owl. "I am incomplete." She focused on Severus. "But you have given me an idea, Severus."
"I? An idea about what?" He wasn't at all sure if he should feel flattered or alarmed.
"A clue to follow that might yet yield up what I need - my memories. You said it: the world now is full of magic, wizards, and witches. How did this come to pass? From fewer than ten wizards in my time to thousands upon thousands? I need to retrace the thread all the way. I feel if I can do this, I will have my answer." Her aqua eyes burned intently. "I am in your debt."
He held up a hand. "Please, I cannot think of my statement as being overly helpful."
"It may be far more helpful than you think." Her face relaxed into a smile. "Do not worry about your good owl. I will sit up with him tonight and keep watch and think as I do so."
"Thank you doctor." Severus was nearly back to his own apartment when
he realized Eregion had called the bird 'your owl'. How does she know these
things! What is she?
He stood on a hill overlooking the lands below, bright with the lights of innumerable houses. His horse, a powerful beast bred for his service by the Dark Lord himself, grazed hungrily nearby. He did not mind the time the animal required to feed himself, since it gave him time to send his senses forth.
What he received was at first troubling - of his Lord there was no sign whatsoever, not even a whisp of thought could he detect. The hard Will that had controlled his every moment since the day he first accepted the ring was gone without a trace. There were pools of evil and dark power in this land, but they paled into insignificance in comparison with the ebon majesty of Sauron the Great.
In all of his travels since his arrival he had found no one who could control
him or command his allegiance. Now the full truth was starting to dawn on him.
I am free.
He laughed in delight; a thin, horrible sound.
For the third night in a row, Severus flipped through one of the books he had borrowed from the library, still seeking that illusive chunk of data that would make the mystery of Eregion clear. The human scribes of some long-forgotten high king had written this book; it mostly dealt with the political doings of the era, but every now and then it mentioned elves and "high elves" and so he read on with determination. After an hour, he held out a hand toward his table and said, "tea, please." The tea appeared, along with biscuits, on a tray held by one of Hogwarts' house elves.
"Will Professor be wanting more tea soon?" The elf piped, setting the tray down on the stand by Severus' chair.
"Are we in danger of running short?" asked Severus dryly; taking a biscuit while the elf poured a cup for him.
"No-no Professor! We is having plenty of tea! But!" Here the elf's large eyes grew even larger in excitement. "The Lady Eregion is working a great magic soon tonight. The Lay of Luthien she is to be singing, and we is not wanting to miss it, no!" She quivered joyfully. "We elves of Hogwarts is never heard it, not ever!"
"Now, tonight?" Severus sat up, his weariness forgotten.
"Soon! Must go!" Before Severus could think to stop her for further questioning, she vanished.
"House elves," he muttered, slamming the volume shut.
He levered himself out of his chair, wrapped his cloak around him and swept out of his chambers and up the stairs into the great halls of Hogwarts. He stared in amazement. House elves pattered by on small feet, wrapped in their oddments of clothing and bits of fabric, pouring out the great doors and into the courtyard. He followed them in silence, into the warm air. The sun was setting and the skies were slowly turning from blue to cobalt to deepest indigo. He followed the elves out of the courtyard and onto the great lawn that fronted the castle. The lake reflected the deepening sky, rippling in the soft breeze. A few students looked at the strange exodus in surprise, and some chose to follow out of curiosity. Harry Potter and his little cohort of Griffindors were among the crowd, Severus noted, but his irritation was abated by his own intense desire to see whatever was about to transpire. Finally the elves halted midway between the castle and the lake, forming a large, loose ring around a tall figure standing in their midst. Severus recognized at once the distinctive pale robes of the chirurgeon.
Eregion waited patiently until her audience had assembled. Her hood was thrown back. Her long hair, unbraided for the first time since she'd arrived, fell almost to her feet, like a silver waterfall. In one hand she held a small harp, sized for a traveling bard. It was made of some dark wood, and the strings gleamed golden in the waning light. The elves made room for Harry and his friends and they settled themselves in the first rank of onlookers.
"Welcome, kindred." Eregion's voice sounded warm and carried clearly without the need of an amplifying spell. "Children of Illuvatar all, be welcome on this night. The moon is new and the time is right." She smiled, turning slowly to survey the entire crowd seated around her. She nodded to Severus, who had settled himself more toward the outer ring.
Severus found himself among a group of 6th year Ravenclaws, who made room for him without comment.
"Let us prepare." Eregion stepped forward and handed to Hermione a small round object, approximately the size of a walnut. To Dobby, seated on her right, she handed a similar object. "Please plant these, side by side, but give them plenty of room, at least 30 feet between them."
The two glanced at each other, then Dobby sprang up, followed a moment later by Hermione. They paced out into the center of the area. After walking perhaps 30 feet apart, they scratched little holes in the sod and dropped their "walnuts" into the holes. "Is three inches deep enough?" asked Hermione as she used her wand for a digging tool.
"That will be splendid." Eregion smiled and tuned her harp, letting a few notes scatter sweetly on the air as her two gardeners returned to their seats. Once they had taken their places, the chirurgeon placed her harp upon the grass, turning to face the center of the ring. She opened her hands and raised her arms skyward, palms out, singing in a strange language.
An excited whisper ran through the audience of elves as they waited. The whisper became a sigh of wonder, echoed by the human observers as the ground opened to emit long sprouts, slender and fine. These sprouts increased rapidly in girth, growing into two tall trees. The trees stood bare at first, but after a few minutes they burst into leaf and bloom, shedding light over the assembly. One tree shone silver, the other gold. The light from the trees pushed back the darkness softly, setting the very air asparkle.
Severus found he'd left his mouth open and closed it quickly. No one around him noticed, since all the watchers had identical looks of amazement on their faces. Everyone at Hogwarts was used to magic, of course, but this was magic of a different sort, and they could feel it singing in the air, old and powerful.
"Behold the likenesses of the Two Trees, first light of the world in that long-ago age. Telperion and Laurelin are they named, the trees of the sun and the moon. It is good, to sing the old songs under their light."
Eregion retrieved her harp and began to play, speaking over the voice of the harp. "This is the lay of the mortal Beren One-Hand and of Luthien, daughter of the elvenking." Striking a deep, ringing chord, she began to sing.
Afterward, Severus could not have told anyone the exact words Eregion used to bring the ancient ballad to life. It seemed to him as if he and everyone else were caught up in a waking dream, seeing the ancient heroes and heroines, their struggles, loves, and losses, hearing their voices, the distant music of the elven court, the clash of arms, and the roar of battle. At last, he sat blinking in the pale sunlight.
Dawn already? He thought in bemusement. But, she's only just started! He looked around. His fellows, human and elf alike, were getting to their feet, stretching and nodding at one another. The two trees were going dark now, their light-giving flowers folding with the rays of the dawning sun.
Severus stood, shaking the dew from his outer robes. He waited for Eregion and walked with her, back to the castle. Her eyes were shining and her face looked peaceful.
"I have raised my banners. We shall see if anyone understands," she said softly. "Now, I have some confidence."
At last he found his voice again. "That was a beautiful story, Eregion."
"It was no story. Rather, it is an ancient history of my people."
"What? Beings like Morgoth actually existed? And the silmarils?" While the thought of the magical jewels being real was wonderful, the thought that Morgoth too might have once walked the earth in reality was appalling. The adversary he had seen in the dream world spun by Eregion made the evil of Voldemort look paltry and pale. He had assumed the creature had been inflated into mythic proportions by the ancient bards.
Eregion nodded. "Yes, all true, every bit of it. All deeds done and gone for longer than human memory lasts." She sighed gently as they entered the castle and paused in the hall.
"And your people? Gone as well?" he ventured, watching her face keenly. "You are an elf, aren't you?"
"Yes. I am a woman of the Noldor." She returned his gaze steadily. "I am the only one now in Middle-Earth, to the best of my knowledge. Singing the old ballads thus caused me some pain for the loss, but I have great joy in it as well."
"You have your memories back?"
"Not all of them, no, but in singing the Lay of Luthien I have regained some of them, and in the song I believe I have found an answer to the question that has been haunting me."
"And what is that?" He drew Eregion out of the flow of students, into a side hall where they could speak with less fear of being overheard.
"It has to do with your ability to make the Athelas potion. Remember how I said you could do it because you were a descendent of the ancient king?"
"Yes. Although I'm still not sure I'd give an ancestor so far removed such credit." Severus eyed her dubiously.
She smiled at him in genuine affection. "My good Severus, it isn't just the blood of that one ancient king, but the blood of many and more! Remember how I could not understand where all of the modern wizards had come from? When they were so rare in my youth?"
Severus nodded. "I do."
"While singing the Lay of Luthien, when I reached the end, I suddenly could see the rest of it - from my time all the way to yours." She held her hands far apart. "The mortal love of Luthien and Beren was brief but fruitful. Their children became the sires of human kings and elves of great power that helped to save the earth from Morgoth's successor in later ages. And after that, the king of that era married an elvish woman descended from Beren and Luthien. So the many children of that high king carried the blood of both men and elves.
"The wizards of the Third Age left for Valinor with the elves, but the descendents of Beren and Luthien, of Aragorn and Arwen, lived and prospered and magic came again into the world, borne in their blood over centuries to people around the globe."
"Wait just a moment." Severus shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "You are saying that all modern wizards are descended in some way from a blending of human and elf?"
The doctor chuckled at his skeptical expression. "Yes, that's exactly it. Simple, really."
"I don't believe it." He glared at her sourly. "It is a nice theory, Doctor, as your ballad is a nice song, but I cannot believe it is literally true." He turned and stalked away toward his classroom, muttering as he went and shaking his black robes like an angry crow ruffling his feathers. "All wizards have elf blood? Impossible! Faerie-tales!"
"Your belief is not required, my friend," Eregion called after him.
"Reality is what it is." Severus vanished into the dungeons without
replying. She smiled a little, looking after him for a while and then climbed
the many stairs to the infirmary.
Coming soon: Chapter 9, A Small Lapse (finally, we get to the horsie-part!)
Grateful thank-yous to my beta-readers Judi, Kat, and A.L. Sauveterre.
-Colleen (aka Murasaki99)
1. Mentha piperita - common peppermint. An herb used to aid digestion and clear the sinuses.
2. From The Dhammapada, canto Impurity, verse 251.
"Clouds Over Snow" is an english translation of a Chinese phrase describing the black and white pattern on the coat of a horse or cat.