#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.
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Chapter 21 ~ Final Moments Before the Storm


Cassandra was cooking plantain outside her hut when the portkey announced itself with a flash of blue light, appearing on a small wooden table that graced her outdoor kitchen. She flipped the browning fruit over, wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to the bundle, examining it closely.

“What you send me now, Endora?” she said to herself as she inspected the vial. She held it up to the sun.

“Um hmm,” she said, nodding. She opened the parchment carefully and extracted the blonde hairs, then read the oath signed by Marcus. She grunted, then returned to her plantain and slipped them off the flat stone surface resting over the fire and into a plate. She returned to the bundle and picked up the small bowl.

“This here something new she sends. A pensieve. So tiny,” she muttered. She sat neatly on the ground, crossing her legs Indian-style and stuck her finger into the pensieve. She sat there a few minutes, viewing Marcus’ request through Endora’s eyes, then withdrew her finger, looking thoughtful.

“Ah, the dragon man wants Cassandra’s help. Got himself in a bad, bad way, that man.”

She opened the vial of blood and let a drop drip on her tongue. “He got sweet blood,” she thought as she reached out with her mind, searching for Marcus’ spirit. She found him at Endora’s, busily engaged with her friend. She laughed.

“Ah, dragon man. You are waking up my friend. This is good. This will make her change, yes, make her happier. This is a kindness I will return. Cassandra will help you,” she said, her eyes shining.

She rose from the ground and retrieved her plate of plantains. Walking slowly, she headed down a winding path towards the shore, to listen to what the spirits had to say about Alistar. She walked past the cottonwood tree, where the dupees danced. They bowed low as she passed, aware of the new blood in her veins. The ghosts looked at each other.

“Dragon,” the spirits whispered, “Strong blood for the mistress. She will bind many.”

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Marcus emerged from Endora’s house at dawn. He left the exhausted witch sound asleep. After the pain of her initial deflowerment, Endora caught on quickly and had more than made up for twenty-nine years of celibacy. She was insatiable, ready to take the initiative and try everything. The woman was a natural, and Marcus made sure to tell her, over and over as he sweated buckets. The blonde wizard reached around and ran his fingertips over his back, wincing at the nail marks embedded there from his shoulders to his waist. It was like fucking a tiger. But it was worth getting them, he decided. She had been one of the most passionate witches he had ever slept with. He was exhausted. But not so exhausted that he left the house the way it was.

When he entered her bedroom, he transfigured her full-sized bed, to a king-sized, complete with bedding and pillows. He then transfigured the rest of the room, from endtables to lamps to paint on the walls. When he woke, the first thing he did was go to her clothes closet and inspect her robes. All big, all drab colors. Well, he had a very good idea of her size now, and reduced the bulky robes to a more flattering fit. He also changed the colors. Royal blue, maroon, red, and green. He left some black ones. He went into her underwear drawers and turned all her granny panties into bikini briefs of varying colors. He transfigured her bras as well, matching them up as best he could. He even duplicated her glasses, and changed the second pair to a smaller size, wire-framed.

Afterwards, he walked through the entire house, changing all the dull walls to pastel colors, enlarging the windows for more sun, adding pictures, furniture changing the flooring, adding rugs. He used bits of lint and such to create the new furnishings. He transformed the worn chairs to new ones, nice and cushy, and added a nice sofa and shelves to store all the stacked magazines. He transformed the single picture of flowers into a mural of the islands, with moving water, palm trees and a sun that rose and fell. He made the house as bright and comfortable as possible, painting the dull kitchen a bright yellow, replacing the worn appliances and the eating utensils as well. He looked at the single place setting, and sent it to the cabinets. It was just too lonely. She didn’t need to remind herself she was alone.

When he emerged from the house, he walked around it, painting it a light green, with darker green shutters around the windows. He repaired the shingles, the roofing and the door edgings, and even transformed some weeds close to the house to bright flowers. He fixed the lawn too…it wasn’t completely filled in but nature would take care of the rest. He looked at the house with satisfaction as he headed down the sidewalk. As an afterthought, he added a white picket fence, just for show. It was a wizarding neighborhood after all, so no one would think it odd Endora’s home had improved overnight.

When he reached the corner, he disapparated to Hogwarts, fully intending to hit the sheets when he got there. He needed lots of rest.

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Severus and Hermione spent a very passionate night together, alternating between tender lovemaking and wild fucking in almost every position known to man. Hermione really wondered about the properties of oysters, because Severus was technically up all night. But what really drove her husband was the thought he might never have the chance to touch his wife again, and he was memorizing every curve, every taste, every vocalization she made as he took her over and over, determined to carry those memories into eternity if it came to that.

Hermione woke first, aware of every muscle in her body. She had been stretched, balled up, and twisted like a pretzel by Severus, and her entire body was sore, inside and out. But it was a good sore, and she looked down at her sleeping husband with love. No man would go at it that hard, and that long with a woman he had been with for years unless he loved her. He had kissed and licked and explored every inch of her body with an intensity that had her trembling the whole while. Now he was sleeping the sleep of the dead. He deserved it.

Hermione eased her way out of the bed, partially to keep from waking Severus, and partially because she couldn’t move very fast. Luckily, Severus now kept a variety of healing draughts, salves and pain potions in the drawer by the bed. Hermione helped herself. After going through about ten vials, she felt better. She didn’t want him feeling guilty about their night together. It had been awesome. She went to the loo, relieved herself and took a nice hot shower, washing her hair in the process. She dried herself, and wrapped the towel around her, and re-entered the bedroom. She was going through the closet, when she heard what sounded like a growl. She turned around.

Severus had moved to the edge of the bed. His black eyes were open and glittering as he looked at her. She smiled at him.

“Just swallow that growl, Severus. I am done in,” she said, as she stepped into her panties. Severus rolled onto his back, resting his head on his arms, still watching her.

“I feel like pounding my chest and roaring,” he said, smirking at her.

“I bet you do,” she grinned at him, “that’s what animals do, after all. And you, my husband, are definitely an animal.”

Severus gave her a self-satisfied grin. That was the best compliment a man could get as far as he was concerned. Then his stomach growled.

“I’m famished,” he complained.

“The lioness will hunt for food, O king of beasts,” Hermione laughed, “Just let me finish dressing.”

Severus watched as his wife dressed, his cock throbbing. But he knew better. Plus he needed to build his strength back up. Tonight was the night. He sobered immediately at the thought. He rolled out of bed.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announced. Hermione turned and looked at her naked husband, and flushed a little remembering how his hard body was wrapped around and inside hers only hours before. She swallowed.

“All right,’ she answered him, “lunch will be here when you get out.”

Severus started for the loo, then swerved toward Hermione. He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. He released her, and held her at arm’s length, looking into her eyes. She was breathless.

“I love you, Hermione, with every fiber of my being,” he said intensely, then walked into the loo, not waiting for her response.

“I love you just as much, Severus,” she said softly. Then she went into the study to order lunch.

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Marcus arrived in the Headmaster’s office. He stretched and yawned, then slumped and started walking toward his guest room.

“Well, hello Marcus,” came Dumbledore’s voice. He was sitting by the window looking over the grounds. Fawkes was gently trilling next to him. For the first time since Marcus had taken up residence, she didn’t stop singing when he entered the room. Marcus paused.

“Good morning, Headmaster,” Marcus said, stifling another yawn.

“You seem tired, my boy,” Albus said, his eyes twinkling merrily, “Long night?”

“Very,” Marcus replied.

“Well, go get some rest. You have a long night ahead of you,” the Headmaster said. “Would you like me to have something from the kitchens sent up?”

“No thank you, sir. I just need bed. I’ll eat later,” Marcus replied, moving toward his room again.

“Very well, my boy. Sleep tight,” Dumbledore said, smiling.

Marcus gave a departing grunt and disappeared into his room. Albus looked at Fawkes.

“Still singing, old friend? I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are,” he said to the Phoenix, who rolled her eyes happily, “Something good must have happened with that boy.”

In reply, the Phoenix sang a little louder.

Marcus heard the bird, and its song lulled him. He stripped naked and fell into the bed. He was asleep almost as soon as he drew the covers over himself.

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Cassandra looked down at the symbols she had drawn in the sand, her brow furrowed. The spirits had been very hesitant to discuss Alistar. He was very evil, and very powerful. They told her of all the souls he had sent to the realm, and how they were trapped in a world of their own misery. It would be hard to reach them, unless she had some kind of connection of her own. She scratched in the sand, deep in thought and praying for guidance. Suddenly, something clicked in her brain.

“Bloodfire! Yes!,” she said. She quickly erased the symbols and thanked the spirit that touched her mind with a possible answer, then headed back to her hut to prepare for the rite she would have to perform.

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Peeves had spent his night floating about Dumbledore’s office restlessly. He wasn’t happy about taking the three through the astral realm. It could be just as dangerous for him as it was for them. But there was no way out of it. He could feel Marcus’ spell now, like a foam bubbling inside his spirit body. He would be destroyed if Marcus didn’t make it back. This meant that, as frightened as the poltergeist was, he might have to come to the wizard’s aid if he got in a bad way. If he didn’t, then he risked not surviving another day. Even though Peeves wasn’t properly alive, he liked his existence. There was nothing for it. He’d have to help Marcus fight.

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The day passed quickly. Hermione, Severus and Marcus all came to the Great Hall for supper. All three pushed their food around their plates. Marcus forced some food down, knowing he needed strength, but he wasn’t very hungry. He wondered if Cassandra had agreed to help him. He wouldn’t know until he was on the astral plane. He considered telling Hermione and Severus about the possible help, but decided against it, not wanting to raise false hope. Too soon, supper was over. They all rose at the same time and exited the hall, Marcus heading for the room of requirement, and the couple heading for the lab to retrieve the potion. The time for battle had arrived. .

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A/N: Ok…it’s on folks. By the way, “dupee” is a name for ghosts and spirits in the islands. Help keep me going and please review.