Of Death and Fire

CHAPTER21: End of Days


CHAPTER21: End of Days
 
March flew away fast. As the moon waxed and waned, Morgaine became more like one of her spirits. She hardly spoke anymore, save for her classes. She would slide down the dark corridors almost transparent, her face void of expression, gray as the ash that covered her soul. She barely ate as well and, despite Hagrid's sincere efforts to cheer her up, she had lost weight. Not only from her body but from her spirit as well.
She wasn't sleeping anymore either. At first she resulted to the help of the potions that grant a dreamless sleep. But after a while, these too loose their effect for soulsoul-sick. She would start from her sleep at the dead of the night, reaching out to touch him beside her and then fall back in despair remembering that he was no longer there. Remembering that he hated her. And after the first couple of weeks she had abandoned her quarters seeking comfort in the crypt, lying among her spirits, indulging in the company of her kin. For she now was dead, and the dead sleep no more.
Snape was having an equally hard time. Yet few noticed, since his disposition hadn't been sunny in the first place. But he too had lost weight along with the last remnants of his patience with his students. It wasn't a day that poor Neville Longbottom wouldn't get bullied or insulted; or both. He had grown tougher with the Slytherins as well, but none could have guessed the storm that was raging in his heart.
He wasn't sleeping much either. He would wake up in the middle of the night and turn over to hide his face in her hair, something he had loved to do when he knew she was too deeply asleep to know. But then he would remember he was alone, and the memory of her face in Malfoy's embrace would pierce his heart. He would lie awake until morning, watching the shadows dancing on the ceiling, playing all the moments of their affair in his mind. And each time he saw her face, Malfoy's grin would emerge from the shadows, shattering the happy memories to pieces.
They were not alone in their suffering. Albus Dumbledore was suffering as well. He had hoped that they would help each other to heal, to fight the darkness they both hid inside. Instead he could do nothing but watch them both wasting away, too proud to admit their weakness. He knew that there was a Great War at hand. A war in which each of them would play a critical part. He had hoped they would side with Light. But now the future was clouded and he was wondering if he had made a mistake. Especially with Morgaine, since the darkness inside her grew stronger slowly but steadily. And there wasn't day day he wouldn't remember Whitebone's words: "We don't need another Dark Lord". At these times, a second voice whispered to his ear. "To my Dark Lord, a Goddess". And it was Lucius Malfoy's voice.
These times, Albus Dumbledore couldn't help wondering if his biggest mistake had been letting Morgaine live.
~*~
It was a warm late April evening. Everyone was in the Main Hall for dinner. Morgaine mechanically played with her food while Snape was busy staring angrily towards the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore was gloomy as well, too worried about the students being attacked by a nameless monster and two of his more competent teachers too involved in self-loathing to care. As it seemed that things couldn't get worse, a great black raven flew into the Hall. It circled thrice over Morgaine's head and dropped a parchment on her hands. Without waiting a reply, it flew away.
She nervously opened the parchment. Upon reading the message, her pale face grew even whiter. With large, feverish eyes she turned to Dumbledore, and he nodded in reply. Without a word, she stood up and left the Main Hall.
Snape appeared to be too busy watching the shadows playing inside his wine cup, but he had missed none of these. When everyone had left the table, he approached Morgaine's empty seat and looked at the parchment that had been left behind. It was written in a strange ink, probably blood, and the words would mean nothing to the uninitiated eye.
The Ninth Gate has surfaced.
~*~
Morgaine was packing up in her dungeon, just a few clothes and scrolls. Where she was going she would have no use of cosmetics and fancy clothes. Just courage, of which she could find none. Life has strange turns, she thought. Severus had told her to be careful of what she wished, for it might just get true. And for the past month she had wished for death. And behold, Hell had opened its gates for her.
Of all the creatures that had walked the Earth, some are so feared that they have no names. They are ancient beings, entities of fire and shadow, beyond our definitions of good and evil. Some have gone dormant, rarely surfacing anymore. But when they do, they hunger for human souls, for the rainbow of human emotions fuels their inner fire and darkness. It was her duty to banish them back in the Abyss; the last trial of her Order.
But how can I banish the very thing I long to embrace? When all that I crave for is Death and Fire?
A knock on the door pulled her out of her grim thoughts. She looked up and saw a very nervous Harry Potter staring at her. She smiled at him, trying to hide her tired soul.
"Are you going away, Professor?" he asked, seeing her small travel bag.
"Yes, Harry, I am. I have urgent business to attend to. But I wanted to talk to you before I go, that's why I asked Hagrid to summon you". She sat at the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside her, inviting him to join her. Still uneasy, he complied.
She took the red jasper pendant from her neck and held it in her hand for a moment, a sad smile on her lips.
"This has been a gift from the Headmaster, Harry", she told him, still looking at the stone. "He once told me that it would stand between me and evil in all the empty places I must walk". She closed her hand, feeling its energy one last time. And then he put it around Harry's neck.
"Professor, I couldn't..." Harry protested, and tried to give it back. Tenderly, she held his hands in hers.
"You will need it more than I do, Harry, in the days to come". She raised her left hand and stroked his scar. "It can reflect evil spells, although just for once each day. I have my own protections for my task". Raising her eyes, she saw Severus Snape standing in the doorway.
"And I have nothing more to loose", she added, staring at his black eyes. And then she turned back to Harry. "Take care, Harry. When I'll see you again, I'll expect my pendant to be in a good condition".
"It will be, Professor. And you'll have it back". Harry stood back and walked toward the door, not daring to look at Snape. But before exiting he turned and smiled at her.
"Good luck, Professor Greenleaf. I'm sure you'll be back in no time".
But all of them knew this was not true.
~*~
Snape had fought with his ego for some time before finding the courage to visit her. She had told him of the trials she had gone through and the lshe she had not been tested in. It had been one of their happy times; between lovemaking and confiding, one of the few times she had talked of her life. Her voice had been trembling when she spoke of the nameless horrors that would claim her soul. It was the higher task that the Guild would ask of her; and the gravest one. Many valiant sorcerers had met their master in this creature. He knew she had the skill and knowledge to overcome and triumph. But not with a deathwish in her heart.
"You are leaving"; he forced himself to speak.
"Yes", she replied, not meeting his eyes, finishing her packing.
"It's the Ninth Gate, isn't it?" he asked, hiding any sign of concern.
"Yes", she replied again, throwing her bag on her back. She finally met his gaze. But her eyes were dead.
He was out of words. The ones he longed to say were drowning in a river of guilt, pride and anger. As she reached him on her way out, he looked deep into her eyes.
"Good luck". It was the only thing his ego allowed to be heard.
"What for?" she asked coldly. "I can't die twice".
 
 
As he watched her walk away he had the dreadful feeling he would never seen her again. And he had missed his chance to say goodbye.