#7 ~ The Ghost and Lady Snape

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR (except Marcus Delaluci). All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
*******************************

Chapter 17 ~ Final Meeting in the Room of Requirement

Marcus opened the door to the room of requirement and walked in, towing Peeves behind him. Once the door was closed, he released the poltergeist with a warning look. Peeves floated in mid-air and looked around the room.

It was decorated sparsely. In the center of the room were three black leather divans, like the kind that would be found in a psychiatrist’s office, spaced about six feet apart, each with a small table beside it. On each table was a bowl of water, and a cloth, as well as a pitcher. Beneath the tables on a shelf were three folded blankets. Centered before all three divans was a comfortable armchair, an ottoman and a small table with magazines. Torches lined the stone walls. To the side was a wooden table surrounded by four wooden straight-backed chairs. There were assorted books on the table, parchments and quills.

Marcus walked over to the table and looked at the books. They were all about the Astral Plane. One title caught his eye.

“Weapons of the Astral Realm,” by Horace T. Battlefield

“This looks interesting,” Marcus said as he pulled out a chair and sat down, leafing through the book. It was illustrated with moving drawings, with a wizard going through the motions of creating weapons out of thin air, presumably made of astral matter. Marcus was so engrossed he didn’t hear Severus and Hermione come in.

Hermione’s eyes fell on the divans first. That would be where their bodies would rest as their souls traveled in the realm of the dead. She shuddered a little, wrapping her arms around herself unconsciously.

“Scary, ain’t it?” said Peeves, grinning at Hermione and shaking his bells at her. Severus scowled at the poltergeist. Marcus looked up and greeted the two. He indicated the room.

“Looks like its ready for us,” he said, “obviously we don’t need much. Just a place to lay our heads basically and someone to watch over us.”

Hermione’s eyes swept over the blonde wizard, her lips pursed in distaste. What in the world was he dressed like that for? She wasn’t impressed, she told herself. So what if he had muscles? He didn’t have to show them off like that. After all, there were no fawning females here to be impressed by them. He was so insufferable. She noticed the books on the table and walked over to inspect them.

Severus was taking in the room, considering it thoughtfully.

“Albus will have to keep careful watch,” the Potions Master said as he looked at the divans, “Alistar might try to attack our bodies here, while we are in the astral planes. If he can kill us here, we will be stuck there forever.”

Marcus waved his hand carelessly. “Alistar won’t come within fifty feet of Dumbledore. He radiates too much good. Just his presence will keep Alistar away,” he said.

“Alistar will be desperate if we get him on the run,” Hermione said, “he might risk it.”

“In that case, I will be prepared,” said Albus, entering the room.

“Welcome, Headmaster,” said Severus with a slight bow. Hermione smiled at Dumbledore and Marcus rose from his chair.

“Thank you Severus. Hello Hermione, Marcus,” he smiled at the witch and wizard. Then he looked up at Peeves, who was bobbing in an upper corner of the room with a sour look on his face.

“Good afternoon, Peeves. Glad you could make it,” Albus said, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

“Afternoon, Headmaster,” Peeves replied in a manner that lived up to his name. Albus grinned and gestured to the others in the room. “We should all sit down, I think, and discuss strategy.”

All four sat down at the table. Peeves still floated in the corner sullenly.

“Come join us, Peeves,” Hermione said, waving the poltergeist over.

“There’s no where for me to sit,” the spirit replied.

All four of them looked at the poltergeist, a frown on every face. Peeves sighed and floated over, positioning himself at eye level. Marcus crooked a finger at him.

“Ok, Peeves. What are we in for when we go to this place?” he asked.

The poltergeist looked very shifty for a moment. Marcus frowned, drew his wand and laid it on the table. Peeves went as pale as was possible.

“Well, at first, you won’t be able to see nothing but colors swirling around. Colors like you never seen before. All shiny and confusing, like a fog blowing in the wind. Then it will start to clear some and be like a surrounding fence or something.”

The poltergeist’s voice dropped.

“Then you’ll hear Them,” he said, his eyes moving from one face to the other.

“Them?” Severus asked.

“The things that live there. Trapped Spirits. Ghosts. Monsters. Things worse than monsters. They hide in the fog…if they know you are new, sometimes they rush out and try to drag you back with them, thinking you can’t fight back. Peeves hates that place.

“We know you do, Peeves. Just keep going,” Marcus said irritably.

“Some of them, changes. They try to look familiar so they can get close. Sometimes you will meet someone real, but most times they are just copies out to get you.”

“Doesn’t sound like a very friendly place,” Hermione said. She had goose bumps on her arms, “Are there any good spirits there? Friendly, that might help us?”

“Maybe. If you interests them enough you might get help. But its rare and you have to trust them. You don’t know if they are real friends or something else.”

“Have you ever witnessed a battle on that plane, Peeves?” Severus asked the poltergeist.

“I try not to go there. But once, long ago I saw a battle. It was spirit against wizard. The wizard was taken,” Peeves said, trembling at the memory of the horrible cry the wizard screamed as he was dragged away into the fog.

“How did they fight?” Hermione asked, sitting on the edge of their seat.

“The wizard blasted the spirit with power from his hands, and the spirit threw black ropes of power at the wizard. The wizard used a sword to cut the power as it fell, sometimes changed the sword to a shield and back again. The spirit also sent smaller spirits at him. The wizard destroyed them He might have won if not for another creature charging him and making him turn from the spirit. It lassoed him and pulled him in…covered him in black like tar and took him into the fog screaming. Peeves tried to leave that place, but while they fought I could not leave. It was like a wall came up

“Was the spirit connected to the earth like Alistar?” asked Severus, his brow furrowed.

“Peeves doesn’t think so. Didn’t see any cords,” the poltergeist said, thinking hard. “Spirits attached to earth have cords like human visitors, but many more and not as clear to see.”

“The cords can be cut?” Marcus asked.

“Only by the ones the cords are connected to. The spirit can be weakened, but as long as the cords are connected, it can’t be destroyed.”

The three considered this. “The blood of the women he killed, that connects him the strongest. How can we break that connection when they are all departed?” Hermione asked, looking at Severus, then Marcus.

Marcus leaned forward, “I don’t know. I do have several little-known spells to battle spiritual entities, “ here he looked at Peeves, who quailed, “all I can do is try to use them.”

“Maybe we can call for help from the friendly spirits. Tell them what Alistar is guilty of. Maybe they have a sense of justice and will help us break his connection somehow,” Hermione said, looking hopefully at her husband.

“Perhaps,” Severus said to encourage her. Any bit of hope was a help. But he had a bad feeling about this. Those blood ties to the dead women were a big problem. But at least he could sever his tie to Hermione, and Marcus could break his connection somehow. That would weaken Alistar somewhat. The Headmaster leaned forward.

“Peeves, have you ever seen someone human enter the astral plane before?” Albus asked the poltergeist.

“Yes, Headmaster…the wizard who was taken. I was just formed then, sir,” Peeves replied.

“When he battled, were there any signs in the physical body when he weakened?” the Headmaster asked.

“They go gray,” the poltergeist said, “They looks sick.”

Albus nodded. He would have to watch them closely. He might be able to share a bit of his power when they showed signs of weakening. He rose, having heard all he needed to. He needed to go back to his office and consider some things.

“I will leave you all now to your strategies. What time tomorrow do you want to depart?” He asked.

Severus, Hermione and Marcus looked at each other. “The afternoon?” suggested Hermione.

“How about after supper,” Marcus said, “we can get in as much rest as possible during the day that way.”

Severus nodded. “I prefer the evening as well.”

Hermione looked at her husband, a little miffed he agreed with Marcus on this, but had to concede the rest issue made sense. Score another one for the blonde wizard.

“Fine, the evening then,” she said a little stiffly. Marcus grinned openly at her concession, knowing she hated giving in just because it was his suggestion.

Albus smiled. “How does seven-thirty sound?” he asked.

They all agreed the time was fine. Albus bid them a good afternoon and departed.

The three of them looked warily at each other for a moment. Now they had to figure out exactly what to do. Marcus initiated it.

“I think, when we get in there, instead of looking for Alistar immediately, we need to take a couple of hours finding out what we can do as far as forming weapons and protecting ourselves. We all have good powers of concentration, so with a bit of practice we ought to be able to produce something powerful,” he said.

“Well, we’ve already decided on creating a sword, hopefully using the power of our love to give it power,” said Hermione, challengingly, as if she expected Marcus to scoff at such an idea. To her surprise, he didn’t.

“Well, if love managed to keep him off you these past couple of days, it makes sense that a weapon formed of it should have some power against him. Who will wield the sword?”

“I will,” said Severus evenly, thinking of the revenge he wanted on the spirit for touching Hermione.

“You’re good with a sword,” Marcus said thoughtfully. It makes sense. “What will you use, Hermione?”

“I am going to try forming pure energy and focusing it wandlessly. Also a shield to thwart his attacks on me. He will be trying to get to me, I’m sure.”

“Good,” said Marcus.

“Armor,” said Severus suddenly, “we should all try and form a protective barrier around ourselves, not just for Alistar, but for the other things that will be on the planes, just in case they manage to come in contact with us.”

“Yes,” Marcus agreed, “Individual armor for each of us, then a barrier around all of us, to keep us together as well as keep other creatures away.”

“How about arrows?’ said Hermione, who was decent in archery. “Long distance attacks. Could be useful against Alistar as well as the other creatures.”

Marcus laughed at the idea of cupid’s arrows taking out the evil spirit. “Not bad, Hermione,” he said. Hermione allowed herself a small grin, but became serious quickly.

“There’s the issue of fear. Our fears can take shape on the astral plane. We don’t know if we have to think of the fear, or if it will be drawn out of us without our knowledge. How will we deal with that? Do you know what your deepest fear is, Marcus?” she asked, looking at the wizard intently.

He shook his head. “I don’t allow myself to think like that. It’s a liability. As far as I know, I don’t have any fears,” he replied. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

“Everybody has fears. Even the mighty Marcus Delaluci,” she said evenly.

Marcus looked at her, “Oh yeah? So what is your deepest fear, Lady Snape?”

Hermione hesitated. “I’m not sure, “ she said, looking at Severus, “it could be losing Severus.”

Marcus smirked at her. But you’re not sure, are you?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Well, looks like we both need to do some soul searching before tomorrow evening then,” Marcus said. He looked at Severus. “And what’s your deepest fear, Snape?”

Severus’ eyes shifted to Hermione. “My greatest fear is losing my wife. That is why I am willing to fight Alistar, and anyone or anything else to keep that from happening,” he said sincerely. Marcus knew it was the truth.

“At least one of us knows what to expect then,” he said shortly.

“Do you have any idea how to break your blood bond with Alistar?” asked Hermione.

Marcus considered. “Well, Peeves said Alistar will have a number of connecting cords. I figure one of them will be connected to me. Hopefully I will be able to slice through it with a weapon, or use the connection to hit him with a bolt of energy, like a conductive wire. I’m not sure, but I will try several things. I think I will wait for your connection to be severed. There are two of you with combined power. I will help you both attack him while you work on severing your connection. Hopefully you will weaken him enough to where I can break free as well. When we are all free, then we can attack him in the attempt of breaking the witches’ ties somehow.”

“Maybe we’ll have help by then,” Hermione said.

Marcus looked at her, privately thinking they couldn’t count on anything on that plane helping them. But, like Severus he figured that her hope would at least keep her positively focused. He didn’t want her fear of failure manifesting up there and overpowering her. They could all be lost that way.

“Maybe. We can hope,” he said, non-commitally.

They fell silent. Hermione looked at Peeves, floating in the corner again, muttering to himself about crazy ideas and death wishes.

“It doesn’t seem like Peeves is with us in this,” she whispered so only Severus and Marcus could hear her. Marcus looked up at the poltergeist with a positively evil look on his face.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be with us all the way,” he said.

Hermione was taken aback by the malice on the wizard’s face. Severus said nothing. He suspected Marcus put some insurance on the poltergeist in the form of a life-threatening spell. If he hadn’t, Severus certainly would. Peeves had to be trustworthy, and the only way to insure that would be to make his participation a matter of life or death to the spirit personally.

Severus looked at Marcus. The blonde wizard met his gaze evenly. Severus flicked his eyes toward Peeves and Marcus nodded. That was all the Potions Master needed to know to be sure Peeves was on board one hundred percent. Hermione watched the silent exchange curiously. How alike these two could be. Suddenly, she felt a little safer, though she couldn’t have explained why if asked.

Marcus stood up. “We’ve discussed all we can. The next thing is to act. So I’m going to bid you both good afternoon, and stick my nose in some dark arts books for a while, see if I can come up with something that will work on that plane,” he said. Then he gave them both a serious look and said, “ I hope you two spend a lot of time bonding between tonight and tomorrow evening, if you know what I mean.” He smirked lasciviously.

“We know what you mean, Marcus,” Hermione said stiffly, “don’t worry about us.”

“Actually, I’m worried about me. You two have to be strong together in order for me to even stand a chance. So you’d better get that headboard rocking,” he said, exiting the room. Peeves grinned at them nastily and flew out behind him.

Hermione wanted to scream. “He is just so…so…horrible!” she said to Severus.

The Potions Master looked at his wife. “Be that as it may, he is also right.”

Hermione folded her arms and snorted. Severus put his finger to her chin gently, turning her face to his.

“I can think of worse ways to form a weapon,” he purred, his dark eyes burning into hers.

She blinked at him and smiled slowly.

“So can I,” she said, rising and taking her husband’s arm.

They left the room of requirement, both deep in their own thoughts of the night to come, and what waited for them tomorrow.

********************************
A/N: Some final lemons on the way, and then they go to battle Alistar. Please review.