Ival Pythonica

A/N: I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, etc. They are all the property of J.K. Rowling. For no profit of any kind, I am simply borrowing her characters for a short while. Only the Original Character of Megan Malfoy is my own, though her last name is borrowed from J.K. Rowling.

"Now kindly explain to me once again what you were doing in the Astronomy Tower at this time of night, Miss Malfoy?" Snape snapped at her for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes.

"I told you! I was unable to sleep and those Slytherin girls were like a bunch of hens, planning their holidays and carrying on about their goofy boyfriends back home. Boys, that's all they think about! What a joke! As if males are all there is interesting in this world! So, I went for a walk to the Astronomy Tower to get some quiet, peace and some fresh air. I was only there a few minutes when you appeared and nearly knocked me out a window!" She snapped in return and crossed her arms over her chest.

They were now in his office and the clock struck two a.m. He had ordered Megan back there to discuss her punishment. She went obligingly, though she had to struggle to keep up with him as he floated down the hallways, zipping left and right. Finally, they arrived at his office and he gestured for her to sit in a chair across from his desk. Megan stared blankly at the jars of dead animals and ingredients, in multiple colors of formaldehyde, she had seen thousands of times before.

Snape scowled tiredly from behind his desk. He had wanted an explanation for her behavior. Yet, each time she recounted the story, she stumbled to find words, got confused and slurred occasionally. She had explained two times her whole evening’s events, had given just cause to be where she was, but he still asked again because he was convinced that she had either been drinking or something was grievously wrong. When she snapped the last time, he finally took a good look at her features.

Megan's face was paler than normal, almost transparent. Her normally silky blonde hair was knotty, dingy, and frizzy. He glanced at her eyes which were dull instead of their normal stormy, almost blue appearance. Megan's normally pouty, full lips were chapped and dull. Worst of all there were black bags under her eyes, shaky hands, trembling body. During conversation, Megan experienced confused speech and cognition problems. Megan also looked like she had lost at least ten pounds, her cheeks slightly gaunt, and her cloak and pajamas drooped a little off her frame. Megan took eons to respond to the simplest question or give a clear response. Usually she was quick-witted and fast on her feet, but now she acted and looked like a complete and utter mess.

'Dear Merlin....what's happened to the stunning young lady I have always come to expect?' Snape thought to himself though cleverly keeping the shock from his face.

He mulled it over as she stared at him. He snapped back to life as he realized she had finished talking and was awaiting his punishment so she could go. She fidgeted and shook her head, blinking widely, trying to stay awake.

It was odd. Snape swore he had seen symptoms of this nature before but couldn't quite place them. He thought for a moment, furrowing his brow.

Then it occurred to him.

"When exactly is the last time you slept, Miss Malfoy?" He wondered, leaning forward on his desk to take a better look at her.

"I haven't a clue EXACTLY. I would guess it has been about two weeks."

She yawned at the thought and watched as she noticed something almost like concern flash across his face.

"Have you talked to Madam Pomfrey?" He inquired coolly.

"Yes. Yes I have . . ." She proceeded to inform him of the conversation they had two weeks prior.

"I see. That comes as quite a shock considering you took so well to Potions. I would assume that you had the skills to get yourself out of this. However, it seems you are not as bright as I once believed. A simple sleeping draught should have . . ." He began but Megan burst out in anger at him.

"You suggest, after all you heard, a simple sleeping draught?!"

She laughed sarcastically and icily, standing up from her chair.

"I tried that and everything else! I have used every kind of magic known to the wizarding world!"

She screamed at him, pacing and gesturing wildly.

"I haven't slept in more than two weeks; I have read all my class texts and recommended texts for those classes. Plus, I have cleaned out half the library! I have tried EVERY spell I found and EVERY other potion I could mix and still, NOTHING! I can't stay awake in classes, I have no appetite and I can't think straight! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"

With every word her voice got louder and her face redder. Finally, after the last sentence she collapsed in the chair she had been sitting in before, her body faltering. The exhaustion finally got to her and she began to break down. The tears poured from her face and down onto her silk pajamas. She sobbed loudly and heavily. Megan felt all she could do at that moment was cry. There seemed to be just no hope left in her anymore. She had hit a breaking point that she couldn't surface from. Her exhaustion was consuming her.

Snape blinked in surprise and awe as he watched one of his strongest students, who had never complained, bothered him for menial tasks, nor given him any problem, cry her heart out. He was baffled as to what to say. In all his years of knowing Megan Malfoy she never showed emotion, let alone cried in front of him. Not even as a child. He wanted to snap at her to be quiet but he knew this wasn't some student sniffling over a punishment or a false accusation or getting caught; it was a girl in trouble who could take no more. This person, this girl he had known since birth was falling apart in front of him and he didn’t know how to handle it.

He rose and walked around the desk. Snape handed her a handkerchief from his robes and patted her shoulder slightly. He really didn't know how to be nice, no one had been particularly nice to him when he needed it, even as an adult, they barely respected him let alone helped him.

Megan stopped sniffling and took the handkerchief. She wiped her nose, eyes, and looked up at the man she had always known to be a hard-hearted jerk towards others and never showed the tiniest bit of kindness towards her, trying to comfort her. Even in their discussions and debates he remained cold, calm and unemotional. His gesture, though odd and surprising, made her come to her senses. She brushed back her hair and sighed, finding her voice.

"Thank you, Professor. I am very sorry about that. I know the last thing you need is some weepy girl flooding your office with nonsense. Forgive me."

She sniffled and took a deep breath. Megan knew how crying, whiny students made Snape angry.

“Miss Malfoy, on the contrary, this is a vastly different situation. Normally, you would be right but in this case I will make an exception. Will you be alright to continue now, calmly?" He asked warily, as if he was afraid she might explode into pieces again at any moment.

"I guess… I just feel a bit more tired now." She sighed in frustration and leaned her head back.

"Perhaps a tea with a Calming Draught is in order."

Snape moved away quickly and pulled out his wand. A kettle and two cups appeared on a tray on the desk between them. He poured her a cup of tea and poured a vial of liquid into it. Snape did not ask Megan how she liked her tea. He simply added two lumps of sugar and a splash of cream before handing it to her.
After carefully taking the cup, Megan stared at it.

"Drink it!" He ordered sharply. "It won't work unless you actually IMBIBE the liquid. Starring at it won't do any good."

Megan startled by his anger quickly took a sip. She felt the warm rush slide down her dry throat. Then she looked down at the cup and smiled.

"What, may I ask, is so amusing, Miss Malfoy?" Snape drawled out, scrutinizing her face.

"I just had no idea you knew how I took my tea. That's all."

"I know a lot about you. Your father and I have been friends since our school days. I knew the moment you were conceived, took care of your mother during her pregnancy and knew the moment you were born. In fact, I know everything there is to know about you."
Snape smirked and folded his arms across his chest. He had seated himself back at his desk, his own tea cup sitting to his right, untouched.

Megan's eyes widened in surprise and then she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"You could not possibly know everything about me, Professor. You know a lot, but there are things you may never know." She stated with a certainty in her voice.

"I would not bet all my Galleons on that, Miss Malfoy." He said smoothly leaning over the desk at her menacingly.

"I would." Megan muttered.

Snape scowled at her but ignored her comment. He drank down his tea, and gestured for his quill and some parchment to appear in front of him.

"Now, since you have the audacity to claim you have done 'EVERYTHING,' let us see what you might have missed. Explain your procedures, spells, potions, and counter actions to me." He enchanted his quill so it was at the ready to take notes for him.

"But . . . Professor . . . there's . . . there's so much I have tried. It could take hours to explain!"

"Well then, since you cannot sleep I guess we have all night. Start explaining, carefully and SLOWLY. Be careful not to miss one bit of information." He snarled.

"I . . . I . . . I can't!" Megan frantically tried to think but her mind felt blank.

Snape searched her wild expression and with an annoyed sigh, he stood. Grabbing his wand, Snape walked around the desk and to the center of the office behind Megan’s chair. Then with a flick of his wand, her chair slid backwards, whipped around to face him, and then slid back against the desk. Megan nearly dropped her tea.

"What the hell was that for!?" She starred at him wide-eyed.

"Watch your tongue, Miss Malfoy! Since you cannot seem to recall your actions as of late and as I do not have all week to help you figure it out, there is only one solution."
Snape pointed his wand at Megan. She shook her head in horror, eyes wide, fully aware of his intention.

"No! No!" But her cries were drowned out by Snape's command.

"LEGILIMENS!"

Megan tried to close her mind to him but in her state of exhaustion was no match for Snape's magic. Her memories of the last two weeks began to fly before her eyes as his office disappeared from sight.

Snape saw her reading books and making notes, then secretly brewing potions in the Room of Requirement every night. She would down the finished product from the vial and wait. When sleepiness did not come upon her she cursed and threw the glass vial at the wall. Night after night she would work away, trying every potion and spell, even some highly advanced ones. All of Megan’s attempts were to no avail. He searched back to see if he could pinpoint the beginning of the exhaustion in her memories and discovered it had been two weeks ago yesterday. Megan had awoken at three in the morning and could not get back to sleep that night. She hadn't slept since. He had his answers and thought to himself to make a comment to Dumbledore about her potions skills, which were quite extraordinary.

As he continued to watch the memories play before him, the memories no longer were of her recent two weeks nor were they just about Megan. They were memories containing Megan and a man.

That man was him.

Snape felt a small pull of resistance and a faint screaming from Megan.

"No! That's enough! STOP!"

Megan screaming only zapped more of her small amount of strength. She was unable to clear her mind or rid herself of any emotions before Snape began Legilimens. A decent student of Occulmency, she knew how to block people from her mind, when she was well. At this point, with little strength and no time to prepare herself, she had Snape and anger for him on her mind. This led him to memories and thoughts about himself that were exceptionally private.

Despite her protests he began to watch as images of himself with Megan flew into front of him. They were talking at her father’s parties or over potions materials in his laboratory. He saw flicker past many evenings when they worked side by side brewing potions.

However, the images had a personal nature due to the fact he saw himself through her eyes and felt her bodily reactions as she felt them. Snape saw how Megan watched his every move while starring at him across a room. He felt how she would shiver when Snape stood close to her, how his slightest touch made her skin tingle, how just a glance from him made her blush or if she caught him starring how she would suddenly go weak in the knees.

Then a specific memory flew into view.

Snape was placing his cloak around Megan shoulders, after admonishing her for not wearing something warmer, one evening in the Malfoy Manor Gardens. They had decided to escape the party noise and take a long walk in the large garden, continuing their usual potions discussion. He could feel Megan’s bodily reaction of a shiver, which he had assumed at the time, was from the chill in the air, when his hands brushed her neck and smoothed the cloak over her shoulders. Now he knew by her closed eyes and smile what that shiver was truly about. Later, they had stopped walking; he had turned to face Megan who was directly in front of a wall-size hedge that lined the Garden perimeter. When a garden gnome surprised Snape, jumping at him from behind, it caused him to fall into Megan, pressing her against the hedge behind her. Snape felt the electricity Megan had felt as their bodies collided and saw through her eyes his bewildered look. He seemed to part his lips slightly and breathe deeply, inhaling her perfume. He looked down at her lips in the moonlight and licked his own.

“You have beautiful lips, Miss Malfoy.” He whispered, still starring at them.
She watched and waited intently, holding her breath. Snape leaned forward and was just about to kiss her. Suddenly, as their lips barely touched, a voice called his name and he came to his senses. Snape pulled himself off Megan, brushed off his clothes and turned, walking away without a sound. Snape now recalled how, because he had hastily been called inside, he later left without his cloak. After he had left, Megan sat down on a on nearby bench and wrapped the cloak tighter around herself. Megan’s skin had goose bumps as she inhaled his scent off the collar of the cloak. Closing her eyes, Megan sighed and smiled warmly.

Snape continued to feel pulls of resistance that were desperate to get him from her mind. Yet he was so amazed and curious he continued on through her memories. They were all like the ones before. He could recall many of the moments he was again witnessing from her point of view.

Then other images started to come into view, blurry at first. There were not memories he recalled. In fact, they were obvious fantasies of her creation, some daydreams that were mostly innocent. One, for instance, had Snape smiling at her, his arm around her middle as they sat looking over a potion book, talking. Her head was leaning on his shoulder as she pointed out something in the volume resting on both their laps.

What Snape saw next made him start in surprise. This image, like a movie, was obviously a dream she had. Snape glimpsed what looked like him kissing Megan, his hands snaked into her hair. The kissing was deep, passionate and consuming. He pulled his lips away from hers, despite her protests. His lips nipped her earlobe and down the edge of her chin. As his lips descended lower down her neck, Megan tilted her head back to give him better access. Every time his lips grazed her skin, she mewled in pleasure.
As he looked at the dream unfolding, Snape noticed her shirt was half unbuttoned, her stockings missing, her skirt rumpled and her feet bare.

Then with a sly look on his face, the dream Snape whispered something in Megan's ear.

“Maybe we should continue this somewhere more suitable, Megan?” His voice rumbled, deep and silky.

Megan nodded and shivered. Snape backed her up against the edge of a bed. The back of her knees made contact and they both tumbled backwards, again kissing. Snape watched as his own hand slowly slid up her leg. Megan opened her legs wider for him as his hand disappeared up her skirt. After a moment of his hand moving under the rumpled skirt, Megan whimpered, eyes wide. Snape let out a growl and smiled, his hand beginning to move quicker. Her hips began to move slightly, her whimpering increasing into moans of delight, her face flushed. Snape nibbled down the front of her slightly open blouse, placing kisses across the tops of her breasts which were still nestled in her bra. Snape ran his tongue over the stiff peaks pushing against the red lace of the cups of her bra, making her squeal in surprise. Megan began to rock her hips fiercely, her face and chest scarlet. Suddenly, she shook violently and tilted her head back, eyes wild. She bellowed her voice thick from ecstasy, ‘Severus! ’

The shock of the whole fantasy unfolding, let alone being in Megan’s mind, made his Legilimens concentrations loosen. Suddenly a voice screamed.

"NO! GET . . . OUT . . . OF . . . THERE!" Megan pushed as hard as her mind could.

Next thing Severus knew he was back in his office on the floor. He sat up and starred astonished at Megan who had dropped her tea cup to the floor. It had shattered completely, tea splattered all over the floor. She sat shaking, wide-eyed with horror and beet red with embarrassment. Snape just starred at her, his own eyes wide as saucers. His face was pink; he was breathing heavily, his lips and mouth, dry. He just starred at her. He had no idea Megan thought or dreamed such thing about him. Frankly, that any woman did. Certainly this young woman who was his student and practically apprentice dreaming such things was a shock.

After a few moments of very heavy silence, Snape felt he should say something. He wanted to address the situation but also curious to ask quite a few questions about the images he had seen. He took a deep, shaky breath and opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. It seemed his tongue was frozen because he could not will it to move. He just sat there with his mouth slightly open, struggling to think of something or ANYTHING appropriate to say. No snarky comments came to him, no sarcasm, nothing biting or hurtful. Any words of defense or offense were gone. It seemed all he could think of was that image of Megan in such ecstasy, in such pleasure, in the throws of orgasm . . . at his hands and lips. Finally, after a few moments, his tongue seemed to move.

“Miss Malfoy . . . Megan . . . I . . .”

Megan, still shaking but now with more fury than embarrassment, interrupted him.

“THAT was NOT for YOUR eyes! You did that against my permission! Using Legilimency on me in my weakened state when my Occulmency powers are very poor! I was unable to stop you from practically raping my mind!" Megan shouted at him still shaking.

"I hardly think from my current position your Occulmency skills are weak! You managed to throw me not only out of your mind but onto the floor! AND I was NOT ‘raping your mind’ as you so disgustingly called it! I needed answers you could not provide and now I have viewed and retrieved the information I needed."

“THOSE LAST IMAGES YOU ‘VIEWED’ HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH MY SLEEPING PROBLEMS AND WERE NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! SOME THINGS ARE PRIVATE! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?” Megan huffed and bellowed with all the fury she felt at his invasion.

“YOU WILL LOWER YOUR VOICE! Do not speak to me so impertinently again! That will be 20 Points from Slytherin!”

Megan’s outburst seemed to put Snape back into his right frame of mind. He gathered himself up off the floor swiftly and brushed himself off. Putting on his best blank, cold face, he shook the images from his mind and strode to his desk. With a swipe of his hand her chair slide forward, swung around and slid back to its original position. Megan let go of her white knuckle grip on the chair and glared at him.

"Do you enjoy tossing me around like a rag doll?" She asked sharply, her eyes full of malice.

Snape ignored her comment but shot her a glare that told her to be quiet immediately. He then proceeded to write a note to Minerva McGonagall. He muttered and snapped to himself as he scribbled the note and then made copies with his wand sending one to Dumbledore as well. The parchments flew out of the room at warp speed.

Megan had fallen silent, knowing that glare. She watched him with curiosity.

"That should do it. Now I need you to go back to your room and try to lie down. In the morning, we shall have a solution to this." He rose and gestured towards the door, without looking at her.

“That’s it? Just ‘go lie down’? After all you just saw?” Megan shook her head in complete and utter confusion.

She shakily rose and stumbled towards the door, trying to look at his face. ‘After all he saw,’ she wondered, ‘how could he act so calm, so collected? How could he act as if nothing happened? How can he not want to question me?’ Finally at the door she turned to face him.

"About what you saw . . .”

“I saw that you indeed have a serious problem that must be addressed to immediately. Of all your remedies, none worked. Only something very dark could cause such a situation.”
Snape looked at her without the slightest bit of emotion on his face. It was like looking at a blank slate.

“No, I meant the other images . . . very dark? Who would? How would they? What . . .
What do you think it is?" She asked. Megan was suddenly very worried. The other images were momentarily forgotten.

"It is my personal belief, Miss Malfoy, somebody put a rather nasty spell on you and I think I know which one." He suddenly snarled, very unhappy.

"There are so many. Which one is it?"

"The curse I believe it to be is called Ival Pythonica." He drawled, tightening his fists.

“What in the name of Merlin is Ival Pythonica? Is it extremely deadly?” Megan asked, suddenly more afraid than she had been in weeks.

He finally looked her in the eyes, the obsidian flashing menacingly in the firelight.

“Yes, and if we don’t find out your cure soon, it may cost you your very life.”

Megan gasped in horror.

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