Of Death and Fire

hell hath no fury


CHAPTER 14: "Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned"
 
From the depths of Morgaine's soul rose a howl she was unable to hold back. It thundered inside the library walls and, for an instant, it seemed that all the pain of the purgatory had found its way to the mortal realm. She slowly rose to her feet, each muscle movement an agonizing torture.
Her face was no longer attractive, at least in the conventional sense. It had the deadly seduction of the wild sea, the treacherous beauty of the fires of hell, the same fires that danced in her eyes. She raised her hands to the air, chanting in a tongue that had never been spoken within Hogwarts walls before, and summoned Death and Fire. A strange mist gathered around her. But this mist had eyes and teeth and hands with claws that clasped on her skin and gown like toddlers hanging from a mother's dress.
When she walked out of the library, Hell walked on her heel.
She no longer was an elf, a human or a witch. She was the Avatar of Death, bringing destruction to those whred red oppose her. And she was slowly approaching the Main Hall, wishing fire to rain upon it.
As she d cld closer, she suddenly stopped. Between Morgaine and the object of her wrath stood the only person who had any real power over her. Her brother.
In flight of the Darkness, the Sunlight appears. Dawn came and the purging fire of the midnight Sun drove away the Darkness. Ignoring the death that surrounded her, Alexander reached out and held her in his arms, letting his love burn away any trace of evil. Morgaine slowly became herself again, sobbing uncontrollably inside his steady embrace. It only took a few moments, but to her, it seemed like hours.
He touched her chin with his right hand, forcing her to look at him.
"Go wash your face, and come join the Feast. You are better than this", he told her in a firm but loving voice. He kissed her forehead and he let her go, returning to the Main Hall.
No one, except perhaps Dumbledore, had any idea how close they had been to a horrifying death.
~*~
In the cool solitude of the bathroom, Morgaine washed her burning face. She stood there for a minute, with her hands on the sides of the sink, staring at her reflection. The rage had gone. But as soon as her brother's cleansing presence withdrew, the darkness came crawling back inside.
But it was a different kind of darkness.
She studied her face. Her eyes were shinning, as if from fever. Her skin was burning, her paleness gone and her lips ruby red and a bit puffy, but this added to their seductive curl. She smiled back ad her image and her eyes flashed like a hungry feline who had just spotted her prey. She moved back a couple of feet, stretching her limbs and neck, getting ready for the hunt.
Invoking the ancient spirits of the Earth, she drew inside her the breath of the Dark Goddesses of the old. She became Lilith, the mother of all vampires. She became Kali, the Man-Eater, demanding submission or death. She became Shekmet, the Lioness, lusting for flesh and rivers of blood. All would love her and despair.
When she reached the Main Hall, she knew that this time she would have her revenge. Her brother could not stop her now. After all, he too was a male.
~*~
When she entered the Hall, something changed in the air, but no one could really say for sure what it was. Alexander seemed to understand, and he prudently moved away from her and her seductive spell. Morgaine saw with the corner of her eye her target at the other side of the room, but pretended to ignore him. There were many more victims to start with.
Gildroy Lockhart was the first to be caught in her web. She smiled at him, and he came running from across the room, abandoning his fans, to ask her to dance. And when he took her in his arms she pressed her body on his, making him draw a sharp breath as she encircled him like poison ivy. Poor Lockhart, he never had a chance.
And they danced. He blissfully thought he was seducing her, not for one moment realizing it was the other way round. While he kept on mumbling about his achievements, lost in her eyes, she led their dance with grace closer to the place where Malfoy and Snape stood. And both of them had been fully aware of her seductive presence. Snape's face was pale and unreadable like alabaster, but Malfoy was quite transparent, with a lustful grin on his face. As the dancing couple moved closer, he decided to make his move.
He walked on the dancing floor and tapped Lockhart's shoulder with his cane.
"Mind if I cut in?" he asked, not really him but Morgaine.
Lockhart opened his mouth to deny, but he was cut before he could make a sound.
"Certainly, Lucius", purred Morgaine in a honeyed tongue. "I thought you would never ask", she added, letting go of a stunned Lockhart. As she pressed her body on Malfoy this time, she whispered to his ear, making sure that her words would reach Snape.
"Tell me, Lucius, is this your wand or are you happy to see me?"
In any other case, she would have kicked herself for making such a trite, silly comment. But this time, it had hit bull's eye. Malfoy glowed and smiled like a horny rooster, while poor Lockhart was devastated. As for Snape....
~*~
Severous Snape watched as the couple moved away on the floor, fully aware of Malfoy's attempts to feel her body. Not with much success in a room full of school children and teachers, but he seemed very happy as it was. Morgaine's last comment had been as a burning lance through his stomach. It had started with that idiot Lockhart, but he never had thought of him as a big rival anyway. But Lucius... He cursed himself for his little game earlier, for not taking his chance when she practically offered herself to him. Snape had been caught in his own trap.
Malfoy whispered something in her ear, and she laughed. He could have sworn he tod hed her ear with his tongue, and this drove another burning spear through his gut. He should as well admit his defeat, but he had never expected that loosing a bet would be as painful. Several thoughts passed through his mind, most of them concerning slow death for Malfoy, but none of them seemed as an acceptable solution. He only felt a small delight with Potter's disappointed face on seeing one of his favorite teachers socializing with Malfoy senior. Socializing, right, he thought. There are other words to describe what they've been doing the last half-hour, and not as polite.
Then the music stopped and a dirty looking house elf appeared, handing Malfoy a note. He opened it, spit a curse from tight lips, kissed Morgaine's hand with apologetic words and left towards Dumbledore's office. She grabbed a cup of white wine and without a glance at Snape she left the room to get some fresh air. Not really thinking, he followed her outside.
~*~
Morgaine stood outside, enjoying the cool air on her burning face. She slowly sipped her wine, when she realized someone was right behind her. She didn't have to look; she knew who it was.
He came closer, almost touching her shoulders.
"Enjoying yourself?" he whispered in her ear.
She turned to face him, a glowing smile on her face.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am", she replied, raising proudly her head.
He leaned forward, his lips almost touching her neck, speaking in a soft voice.
"I'll give you this; for a virgin", he whispered, "you know very well how to behave like a whore". And he stood up, enjoying her shocked look.
Morgaine stood frozen. Her spell was shattered to pieces and for that moment she no longer was an elf or a necromancer, but a woman. And she did the only female thing that came to her mind.
She slapped him hard across his face.
And then she turned and ran to the dungeons.
~*~
With his face burning from her hit, Snape stood motionless in the cold night, not sure of how to react. As he started to follow her, he was held back by a strong grip on his shoulder. He turned around to see Morgaine's brother, Alexander.
"If you hurt her", he heard him say in an icy voice, "I will kill you". It was neither a threat nor a warning. It was a statement. And then he released his grip and vanished back into the shadows.
Snape looked at his direction for a brief moment, wondering of how much this elf knew, and then made his way to the dungeons, trying to ignore the feeling he was making a huge mistake.
~*~
Not surprisingly, he found her in the crypt, sitting on the floor at the back of the room, behind a dusty sarcophagus. She had her head hidden in her arms, and he could hear her troubled breathing.
"Go away!" she yelled. Her voice was steady, but he knew she was crying.
The shadows were dancing around her, shadows that whispered and hissed at him, surrounding her as a protective cloak.
"I will go", he replied, "but not before you hear what I have to say". He paused, but her silence was her only reply. Ignoring the unfriendly spirits, he spoke again.
"My last remark might have been inappropriate and rude, but it does not change the fact that it was true. You did behave like a whore", he said, holding his breath in anticipation of her reaction.
"And so what?" she hissed at him, still behind the sarcophagus. "What gives you the right to judge me?"
"Nothing", he replied. "I was not judging you. I was trying to hurt you, to return to you a small amount of the pain you have been causing me all night". He tried to speak in a steady voice, but it trembled just a little. When silence was again her only reply, he turned to leave. As his hand touched the doorknob, he heard her voice.
"Wait", she said as she stood up and walked closer to him. "Explain".
He dared not face her. He could no longer hold back the feelings that were playing upon his face, so he stood with his back turned to her, just slightly bending his head on the side.
"Every time you touched another man, every time you smiled or laughed with them, I felt a sword piercing through my heart". His voice was definitely trembling now. "I do not know why. But I know this; if Malfoy hadn't left, I would have probably done something I would regret in the future". He stopped, fearing of what he would say next.
After a few moments of silence, her hand touched his shoulder, then his face and she turned him to face her. He resisted none of her touch, but raised his head to look in her eyes. For a heartbeat they just stood there, their eyes locked together, no one daring to move or speak, or to cross the void among them, even if it was only a few inches.
Who made the first move they would never know. But the next heartbeat found them locked together in a fierce kiss. Tongues were stroking each other, in an imitation of the deepest penetration they were longing for. Hands and fingers were battling with buttons and fabric, struggling to remove the obstacles that stood between their naked flesh. Morgaine found herself pushed against the crypt wall, breathless, her hands trying to find their way through his robes, feeling her blood run with fire. As his lips moved to her neck and his fingers felt the inside of her thighs, she raised her head for a desperate breath. Only then did she realize the turmoil behind them. The spirits were in utter distress, uncertain of how to react, but aroused by their lust, hungry for human flesh and fluids.
She gently pushed him back.
"Not here", she whispered in his ear.
Only then did he realize they were not alone.
"My dungeon is just across the staircase", he whispered back, kissing her earlobe. "I'll go first. Wait a few minutes and join me there", he added, and touched her cheek. Straightening his battered robes, he left the crypt, after making sure there was no one around. A few minutes later, she followed him upstairs, choosing not to hear the spirits' warning.
"Don't gooo, missstresss... he will beee the deathhh of youuu"....
 
 
 
Author's notes:
*Ok, the longest chapter so far, and I hope you've enjoyed it. If so, you know what to do. See that little button below?
* The title is an adaptation of a line by British playwriter W. Congreve : "Heav'n hath no rage like love to hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd."

* Line : "In flight of the Darkness, the Sunlight appears" from a gothic/Medieval song. I can locate title or artist at this moment. If someone else does, please let me know.
* Line: " All would love her and despair". Lord of the Rings, of course.