Linuxia

Harry glided down the halls of Hogwarts, a strange buzzing in his ears. It might have been that Luni was trying to talk to him again. All the little ball seemed capable of was simple commands. “Stop. Listen. Look! Watch OUT!” Things like that. After his father had explained that no one in the Ether (for that was apparently where he had been sent to) went anywhere without a guide. So here Harry was, gliding around Hogwarts, absolutely starkers except for a set of robes, loosely tied. These were all he’d been able to conjure up, but his father had also explained that a spirit will clothe itself as is absolutely necessary at first. It made him wonder what in the bloody hell Peeves had needed. His father had merely smiled. By the end of his time in the ether, training in spiritual weaponry and what Cedric called ‘Afterlife 101', Harry had gotten the hang of gliding through walls and such. The problem was, as he could see it, was he couldn’t let his body see him. He could tell Ron and ‘Mione, but not Himself, or Sammy. The latter-most hurt him horribly. He loved that girl, or . . . well, he wanted to. He’d been cut off before he had even a chance.

So here he stood, or floated as the case may have been, waiting to see who would pass his dark corner. Luni wouldn’t stop messing with his hair. “Pretty!” She chirruped in her lilting buzzy voice.
“So glad you approve.” Harry replied tiredly. He heard footsteps approaching, and looked. ~Uh-oh . . . Snape.~ He recessed into the corner as he could, but this particular wall had been ghost-proofed. Snape passed, then looked back.

“Hello, Mr. Potter.” Harry glided down, and came to a halt in front of Snape.

“And how did you-”

“You forget my abilities, Mr. Potter. I knew that the puppet I found with my daughter in the dungeons was not you, because he did not have nearly the attitude you do, and also, he called me a ‘churlish lack-wit excuse for a Master.’ The term ‘Master’ has not been used directly at Hogwarts since my Great-Grandfather’s time. This was another clue. A third, and the ‘Clincher,’ as Sam would have it, is that when I went to examine this puppet’s mind, I found only a void. The Ether. ” He waited a moment. “And a fourth just now: you would not normally allow me to speak for so long without interrupting.” Harry thought a moment.

“Well, I was curious to learn how it was you knew, and besides, I have an apology, and was thinking how to put it best.” Snape cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“Well,” Harry scratched his head, only to find Luni had rendered his hair all over points. “Luni!” Snape looked deadly, but he was quickly silenced by the presence of the little ball in front of his face.


“BEAKY!” She squealed, and buzzed up to Snape’s hair.

“Get off me, you detestable Fae!” Snape batted at Luni, who giggled.

“PHBLLLLLLT!” Luni buzzed, and zipped over to Harry, who was fighting down a chuckle.

“This,” he waved, “Is Luni. Sammy’s innocence. She is my guide in the mortal world.”

“Repugnant little- INNOCENCE?” Harry decided a further explanation was needed. BEFORE Snape took matters into his hands and jumped to a bad conclusion.

“Malfoy took her.” Snape’s face softened.

“Yes, I know . . . I . . . a father’s rage, Potter. You, if the gods so deem, will one day know. Now what is it you were sent to do?” Harry shrugged.

“Defeat the bad guy.” Harry wrinkled his nose. “What I always do.”

“Well, then. You will need all the help you can get.” Harry glided along as Snape walked.

“One question, Professor?”

“Yes?”

“I’m not allowed to reveal my presence here to anyone close to Sammy or Slytherin. How is it I am not in trouble?”

“I revealed YOU.”


Sammy, meanwhile, was not noticing even the slightest change in Harry, though she rather liked how romantic he was now. How he would ask before holding her hand to class, but in dark corners would press his lips into hers without even pausing for breath. It was an amazing balance he kept, the Golden Boy and the Rogue all rolled into one. It was inordinately sexy how he would pull her into an alcove and run his hands over her face and hair before plunging into her, sweetly ravaging every corner of her mouth. It wouldn’t be long before she slept with him, judging by the way her heart fluttered when he was near, and how she felt the temperature jump as he sat next to her in Potions. How much of her thoughts this boy took up worried most of those around her, especially her father. Severus Snape was tightening the leash around her, and she resented it. She took to not visiting him outside of class, instead spending her time with Harry.

Harry, the spiritual existence that Sammy was becoming less and less enamored with, was listening to a conversation that was close to driving him round the sodding bend. It was Snape’s idea to let a few of the choice ghosts in on Harry’s predicament, and so The Grey Lady, Nearly Headless Nick, The Fat Friar, and the Bloody Baron had all gathered in Snape’s office.

“I must say, it is dreadfully offensive, what that boy is wearing.” The Baron growled.

“I’m not even dead, give me a break, your GRACE.” Harry shot back.

“Tactless!” The Grey Lady fluttered her fan and huffed. Harry actually laughed at that, and looked to Snape.

“You know, that reminds me . . . I’m going to insist that you’re not a bastard once I get my body back.”

“Why is that, Potter?” Snape actually looked intrigued.

“You didn’t let Myrtle in on this.” Harry sniggered. “She called me tactless, too.” He looked to the Grey Lady, who was still the Tableau of an Affront, and bowed his head. “I did not mean to offend, my lady, but merely respond in kind.” He offered his hand to her.

“Well . . . so long as you keep your tongue hence, I see no reason to object.” She placed her hand in his.

“When you two have quite finished. . .” Snape muttered. “We have plans to discuss.” The Friar, normally jolly, looked deep in thought. “What is it?” Snape looked as concerned as he would have been had Samara been as pregnant as Ginny Weasley was.

“Well, you see . . .” The Friar elucidated, “There is a story in the Bible that is very similar to what is going on with your daughter if I am to understand this correctly.

“Dinah.” Harry intoned. All of them whirled to look at him. Snape’s face was the epitome of disbelief. “Well, what ELSE did you expect me to do in that house? I read whatever was available, and the Bible was the thickest book!” He huffed. “Yeah, parts of it were nonsense-” With this the Friar crossed himself, “but a lot of it is true. I still think that.”

“How can you not believe the entirety of God’s Word?” This came from the Friar. “How can you have been lead astray, my lamb?”

“Not so much a lamb anymore.” Harry retorted. “But you see. . . the Bible says that you shall not suffer a witch to live.” He grinned wickedly. “I guess, then, that Voldemort is just carrying out God’s will, exterminating all those people that practice magic.” The Friar crossed himself again. “Oh, bloody Hell, all of you, it’s a morbid joke!”

“Dear Sweet Virgin Mary, protect us!” The Grey Lady fluttered her lace fan. “The savior of Hogwarts is a blaspheming wretch!” Harry rolled his eyes and looked to Snape.

“To return to the subject at hand . . .” Snape stopped, looking irritated. “Potter.” Harry was transfixed by a spot on the wall. “Potter, what is it?”

“Who had this office before you?” Harry glided over to the wall and stuck his head through it. There was a muffled pair of sounds, then a slight pop as he pulled his head back out. “There’s a compartment here. It’s about seven inches wide and tall, and a meter deep. I can’t see what’s in it.” Snape strode over to the wall and examined it. There, carved in the stone, so near the torch bracket that no one he knew had noticed it before, was carved a snake reared up on its tail, its head at the ready to strike.

“A serpent rampant?” Snape muttered. He pressed the spot the snake was in, but to no avail. “Damn it.” Harry glided down next to him, and shook his head.

“Slytherin wouldn’t have used the same trick twice, would he?”

***
The walls were dank as Dobby placed the brick back to where they had been. His small hands were capable, and he knew that the greatest care must be taken with this task. It was a deadly secret his mistress kept, and deadlier still was the one he hid. Letter after letter came for Mistress Eve, promising a return in the spring. March began spring, and Mistress Eve would be heavy with child by then. Master Salazar was not stupid. He would know that it was his issue that made her so heavy. The final brick fit into place as his mate came to find him. He smiled, and embraced her. “Blossom, how is it you is here?” The proper speak made her nervous, so he used the pidgin language expected of a House-Elf.

“Blossom is good, Dobby. Dobby’s cub is strong and willful, ready to be born.” Dobby smiled.

“All is good. Dobby is happy.” Dobby sighed. “Blossom, Dobby has made an oath to Mistress.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.” He nodded nervously. “Dobby has sworn-” He gulped. “Dobby has sworn that his child shall have his name.” Blossom blinked, and nodded.

“If that is what Dobby has sworn to Mistress, then that is what Dobby shall do. Blossom shall call her cub Dobby, son of Dobby.”

The snow fell heavily in a bleak January before Eve saw her brother. He strode in, smiling as he always did when he came to see her.

“Eve, my lady sister, how do you fare?” He blinked, and the smile dropped from his face. Eve stood, and dipped a curtsy to her brother.

“My Lord Brother and Master of this Castle, I fare well-”

“Who has done this?” He pointed to her stomach. “Who has violated you?!?” His cheeks turned a dangerous shade of crimson, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Who has done this??!?”

“My brother, calm yourself, I beg of you.” She knelt before him, grasping at his crimson robes, the bunch of cloth in her fists forming the very blossoms of the thorns that stabbed her from her brother’s voice. Accusation. Bewilderment. Betrayal. He stabbed with these as quickly as she had seen his sword fly. “It is not as you would imagine. The sire is of noble lines, of impeccable trust and-”

“Trust!!!? He lies with you outside of marriage! The adulterous wretch should be castrated!” He roared, so like his heraldic animal.

“Brother, I beg of you-” Her tone never modulated.

“WHO IS THE SIRE?” He wrenched her to her feet.

“Godric, the babe, I beg of you!” She shook ferociously, more from held-back anguish then from fear.

“It is a babe, then? No stomach worm or devil’s spawn, but a babe?” He released her. “You lay with him willingly?” He studied her, his eyes condemning any ‘aye’, and suspecting every ‘nay’. She had to be careful.

“He is of good quality, Godric.” Dobby entered, and bowed.

“Master Gryffindor, Master Slytherin has returned.” The house-elf bowed and plucked at his tattered red and gold tetra-sectional tunic. Gryffindor nodded and glared at his sister.

“We shall see what your dear master has to say about your . . . condition.” He smirked, and left.


A few hours later, the door to her chamber opened, and her brother entered, Slytherin in tow. The latter’s face brightened to see her, but fell to shock when he saw her form. “Well, Salazar, here is dear Eve, much grown, is she not?” Gryffindor watched him with little more than amusement. He had no idea that the man he sought to castrate stood right next to him.

“So I see. What have you been feeding her? Have you been nipping at the honey cakes in the pantry, Mistress Eve?” He walked toward her and dipped a bow. Gryffindor snorted most impolitely.

“Honey enough may exist in all of the Scots land, but not here at Hogwarts. She is with child, Salazar.” The ebony man kept his mouth a flat line as he answered.

“I felt the jest would be necessary, as you most certainly exploded at her, as Simeon and Levi to Shechem.” He raised an eyebrow. “That is the right story, yes?” He toyed with his pentacle. “Two brothers take revenge on the man who carnally knew their sister?”

“Raped her.” Gryffindor replied. “And God help the man who has done this, for I shall slit him from manhood to mouth.”

“Godric, you are a Christian, and so may keep those laws as you see fit, but Eve was raised with God and the Mother alike. She may choose to follow the ways of either. In her pregnancy, she harms none. What is her sin?”

“You would hear my laws and doctrines that you so carefully avoided, Salazar?” Gryffindor snorted. “Very well. She is an adulteress. She has proven unfaithful to her future husband.” His eyes narrowed. “It is a rupture of The Commandments.” He walked forward and picked up the cross from where it lay on Eve’s neck. “Of the laws our Savior held so dear.” He let it drop to Eve’s chest, which was held still only due to the fact that Eve held it there.

“She is unmarried, and therefore cannot break a vow she has not made. How do you know she was not raped?” He looked to Eve reassuringly as Gryffindor laughed.

“She insists on the sire’s virtue! What victim would do so? Besides, it is a woman’s way to beguile. She brought this on herself!”

“If I may speak.” Eve intoned. Gryffindor opened his mouth to say something, but Salazar shot him a look of coldest ice. “The father of my child is a good man, an honorable man, a man whom you yourself love.”

“His name, then?” Gryffindor demanded. “Give me the wretch’s NAME!”

“I have told you that he is an honorable man. As I am a woman and as I draw breath, he did me no harm.” Gryffindor turned the color of his hair.

“Willing- You went-” He could not speak.

“I tell you now, he is an honorable man. Call me what you will, cast me onto the highway for a harlot, but the God whom you serve and who gives me the love I have for the sire of my child, saved a harlot from a crumbling city, and that God will save me. Not because I am worthy, but because of the selfsame force that binds me to the Lord binds also my heart to this man and to you, my brother.”

“A new life grows in her womb, dear friend, can you not celebrate that? Is it not Christian to celebrate life, in all of its forms?” Slytherin cocked his head to one side. Gryffindor’s face contorted in rage, and he stormed out.


Slytherin sighed, and fell on his knees in front of Eve once the door had slammed. His head came to rest against Eve’s round belly, and his hands massaged the swell as he purred softly. “My dear, why did you not write me? I would have returned in haste had I known.”

“An owl may only fly so fast, my love. I would not have you rushing to me in such conditions.” She looked to the snow. “Do not serpents spend the winter in death?” She stroked his hair in the same motions as he lavished on her belly.

“Nay, only in sleep.” The man stood with a grace promised to a serpent and kissed her forehead. “Edinburgh kept me busy, but none so busy as I could not have left.” He chucked her under the chin. “My Eve, why did you not tell him? He would not have disapproved.”

“Godric is not you, dearest.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “He would have gutted you, at the very least.”

“You are a part of me, my sweet.” He once again knelt before her. “Do you not remember our first meeting? The look of shock that came over me? My young stallion’s heart knew that in that small child rested the woman who had been made with me in mind. I was stunned, but I knew it. The years brought us together as teacher and pupil, and now, you bear the fruit of my latest lesson. It is a sweet lesson I must learn, fathering, but I look forward to it.” He smiled. “I am thirty, my love, and I must admit that I thought my line would die with me. I doubted that I would see my eyes or hair on anyone but me. You have given me hope.”

“Thomas, then.” She smiled. “If it is a boy, his name shall be Thomas.” Slytherin sighed, looking confused.

“Thomas was a man who doubted our Lord, but who believed upon sight of him. I shall call your son, if God grants you a son, Thomas.”

“That is well.” He kissed her again, this time meeting her lips.

***

Snape dug the last of the bricks out, and set it on the floor. He pulled out what appeared to be ancient rolls of parchment, all sealed with green wax. He brought them over to his desk, and noticed that all of the seals were broken. He unrolled one of the cylinders of parchment, only to discover that the entirety of it was written in calligraphic Latin. He began picking at it, and sighed. “Potter, come out of the wall.”

“Sorry. I got curious. What are they?” The boy settled over Snape’s left shoulder, while Luni buzzed near the potion master’s right ear.

“They’re letters. From an author signing as ‘Eva.’ Unusual. An Evangelist, perhaps?” He studied the parchment. “No, the words ‘my love’ pop up too frequently.”

“Eva may be a name, then?” Harry suggested. Snape rolled his eyes.

“Ee-vah? Honestly, Potter what did they teach you in those schools? In Latin, it would be Ay-vah.” He shook his head, then dropped the parchment. “That’s IT! Potter, you’re brilliant!” He began to read the parchment furiously. “Eve! Eve Gryffindor!!” He set the parchment down. “That’s IT, Potter! 50 points to Gryffindor!”