Tel\' Lindar (The Bard)

Chapter 28

The Great Wall of Snape or The Paper Chase

***

"Is it salvageable?"

"Is there hope?"

"There is always hope." A raven -winged eyebrow arched delicately. "But this will be work!"

Erestor, seneschal and secretary to Lord Elrond Peredhil, stood in the middle of stacks and stacks of parchment and seemingly haphazard piles of random scrolls pap paper. "Sho"Shocking, is it not?" Elladan was having too good a time at his former teacher's expense.

"N'uma. It does not shock me." Erestor's grey eyes lifted and looked at the twins. "You should have seen her cottage after she arrived in Valinor." A delicate shudder ran through the slender Elf. "Gandalf, your Adar, and I never thought to see the end of it. I dare say, Haldir sighed a breath of relief and spent more time at home once it was complete."

"How long did that ta Elr Elrohir asked flippantly.

"Three thousand years, give or take a century or two."

Long steady whistles of appreciation.

Erestor cast a steady eye on the two Elves he had watched grow up and had considered dead for so many years. He had been over-joyed when the twins met him at the doors, although those who did not know him, would have not known; he schooled his emotions as well as the taciturn Potions Master of Hogwarts. He had not been properly introduced to Bronwyn's Shield; he only saw him flying by as he came down her stairs, heading for breakfast and class. He would meet him soon enough.

Elrond arrived and was standing behind his sons. "Do you think she will mind your re-arranging her office?"

Erestor's eyes roamed the shelves, the stacks, the seemingly unorganized mess. Therein lay the crux of Bronwyn; what appeared to be unorganized to the world was navigable by her. "It does not matter if she does or does not." He stepped further into the room. "Would any of you care to aid me?"

"We have a-"

"-class to teach. Actually-"

"-our day is rather booked, so-"

"-sorry M'aelamin. Perhaps after-"

"-dinner?"

"Oh, would you look at the time! Must-"

"-Get the classroom ready. So good to-"

"-see you, Erestor!" The twins exited her chambers as fast as they talked. A small smile crept on the corner of Erestor's mouth.

"My lord, would you-"

"N'uma!" Elrond fairly spat. "I have spent several days keeping Bronwyn, that Wizard spawn of my daughter's, and whatever name Haldir is going by from killing each other! I would like a few hours of peace and quiet." The Elf Lord tapped a finger on his lip, thoughtfully. "Perhaps a nice, quiet book..."

Erestor had moved into the room, surveying the piles, picking up stray scrolls and paper and seemingly perusing them. "I understand Celeborn sent her some new ones." he stated matter of factly.

"Bah! He probably sent disgusting romance novels his wife would enjoy!" Erestor's smile deepened, but he made sure his back was to the Elf Lord. "I do not know what Galadriel sees in him. Pervert!"

"Regardless of Celeborn's faults, which are many, he is kind and wise. He is a fierce protector of his people and his family. Galadriel chose well her life- mate."

"Aye." Elrond watched as Erestor began to pick and shift through the rubble of Bronwyn's office. "I am going to the library. It will be interesting to see what the Wizards have done over the last eleven hundred years." The Elf Lord began to meander towards the door.

"Lord Elrond?"

The ElfLord stopped.

"I understand the Wizard has been given all of Haldir's ... gifts, multiplied in order to aid her?"

A pause...

"Uma."

"They why do you not tell him to lay his hands on her in order to heal her completely?" The Noldor dropped the parchment in his hand and came to stand in front of his master, hands stretched in supplication. "She is ill! I could hear her breathing when the Wizard left this morning!"

"All this care from the Elf who wanted to hide the One Ring in Rivendell?"

Erestor shrugged his shoulders. "I was only playing Melkor's advocate, my lord. I knew you wanted all the options laid out on the table. And do not change the subject! I have been your assistant too many years for you to try to sidestep the issue!" He asked again. "She is ill! Why not tell him how to help her?"

"There are reasons-"

"It is cruel! It is cruel to her!" Erestor spat harshly. He did not back down or apologize when the Elf Lord stood tall.

"Because, that would make it too easy!"

"I do not understand, my lord."

Elrond looked around to make sure no one was listening. "When Bronwyn was first given to Haldir, he wanted nothing to do with her. He wished to heal her with Elvish medicines and send her on her happy way with the Fellowship. But Galadriel refused him that. Sending her with the Fellowship would have meant her death. Galadriel forced Haldir to care for her ; aid her; teach her. She appointed him her Guardian. As time passed, their relationship changed them, molded them. By allowing him to spend time with her, Haldir learned to appreciate her uniqueness; her skills. He came to respect her, love her. She needed him. Bronwyn learned to trust him, lean on him, respect his knowledge and talents. By the same token, she and the Wizard need each other. In order to accomplish the task at hand, they must learn to rely on each other. By caring for her, aiding in her healing, he takes ch of of her well-being. He opens himself to her. Bronwyn is naturally warm and caring. She will need to breach his walls-"

"If she can get over her own!"

Both Elves sighed.

"He cannot cure her allergies." Elrond whispered. "Neither could Haldir. Her health must be a constant concern for him. The Potions Master refuses to believe his own emotions. He has buried them long and deep."

"He needs her as much as she needs him." Erestor mused. "He might have buried his emotions, but Tel' Lindar is stubborn and gives the impression that she is as hard as mithril."

"Aye, but she is not! Stubborn, yes! Hard? No." Elrond shook his head. "Haldir could be ridged. Sharp corners, like a box. But this... Snape; he is like jagged glass. She will have to be very careful of how she picks up the shards that make up Severus Snape." The Elf Lord looked around the room, as if to peruse the contents. "She is very vulnerable; will have to become more vulnerable in order to avail herself to the Wizard. She could very easily get hurt."

"What happens if he does hurt her?"

Elrond pierced his secretary with a thin gaze. "Haldir will kill him."

***

It's hard when you're always afraid
You just recover when another belief is betrayed
So break my heart of you must
It's a matter of trust

Matter of Trust
Billy Joel

***

The last student ran from his classroom, the door banging behind the child.

It got worse and worse every year. The children sent to him were more and more thick-skulled and brainless with each passing September. It did not help that *she* had woken up a half an hour past and was fuming about something. No doubt, he thought as he slammed his lesson planner shut and threw his quill into the quill holder, that he would find her rooms crawling with Elves and quite possibly Albus. It would take every ounce of self - control he possessed to keep from wingwing each and everyone of them out so he could take his time perusing her condition. It was time he took back charge of her well-being.

Severus walked into her chambers, head bursting, temper barely held in check.

He stalked into chaos.

Elrond and Albus had their heads together, chattering over a scroll in the Elf Lord's hands. The twins were on the patio, arguing good naturedly. He looked into her office; the dark haired Elf, whose presence he had been acutely aware of this morning, had a bigger mess than when he started. Bronwyn was sitting on the middle landing of the stairs, chin in her hands, looking dejected, toes curling...

He jerked his hand, finger pointing upwards.

"Wha?" she rasped.

Oh goodie! The voice was gone... again!

"Your shoes."

Bronwyn blinked once, and nodded to Amadeus, who had been sitting next to her. He chuffed once and disappeared up the stairs.

"You are worse than any child I have ever had the misfortune of teaching! I swear if I must permanently attach them... Bronwyn?"

She wasn't looking at him. Circe! She wasn't paying any attention to his tirade at all! He delved in... sensing...

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

"Bronwyn. You will tell me what is wrong."

"What is wrong?" A new male voice, soft and gentle invaded the chaotic atmosphere of her chambers. "She is sick and tired of being sick and tired. Not to mention, she is irate that I have taken her office into hand." Severus turned to see the dark haired Elf behind him, smiling slightly. "Mae Govannen, Severus Snape. I am Erestor." His right hand light touched his heart and the Elf bowed.

"Charmed." Severus sounded anything but.

"Amadeus." Erestor inclined his head to the white wolf, who was bringing down one of her house slippers. " ‘Tis good to see you taking such good care of your mistress." The wolf dropped the dinosaur boot at her hand and grinned at the Elf before heading back up the stair, presumably to retrieve the other slipper.

"Another Elf to coddle you, Bronwyn. My, my, my. I am impressed!" For some reason, the thought of four Elves in her chambers, catering to her everym, em, every wish, every need, raised the Wizard's ire to a level totally foreign to him. He knew what was wrong with her, he knew how to deal with it, with her. They could all leave now; leave the two of them in peace. At least, peace for a short time, until she regained use of her voice.

"Coddle? Me? You are highly mistaken." Erestor chided. "I do not coddle anyone. Especially her." One could hear the mild rebuke in the Elf's voice. "I am especially in no mood to coddle her, as she demanded that Glorfindel be left behind." This set off a hiss of protest from the woman. "I know, I know!" Erestor raised his hand to ward her off. "He would have taken advantage. Honestly, I do not blame you."

Bronwyn grimaced, pulling on the one house slipper. Erestor paid scant attention. "I believe I figured out your system. You had your classes divided into stacks and-"

Plop plop roar screech plop screech roar shriek plop thud...

Bronwyn's other house slipper came rolling down the steps until it landed at the feet of the dark robed Wizard. Severus stared balefully at the dinosaur boot lying at his feet.

"Losing your grip, dog?"

Amadeus sat behind Bronwyn, grinning maliciously at Severus.

So be it.

Snape picked up the shoe and climbing to the stair beneath her, leaned over, firmly grasped her naked ankle and shoved the boot on her foot. He extended a hand and pulled her up. "How do you feel?"

She shrugged. Her body was listless and Snape felt this boded of bleakness as much as the illness it, wr, wringing every ounce of energy, robbing her of the simple pleasure of movement. Her eyes did not spark or flash and her movements were languid. This worried the Wizard and after ensconcing her on the couch, he interrupted the Elf Lord and Head Master.

"I do hate to interrupt your involved conversation, however, Bronwyn seems to be more listless than ever!" He stabbed an accusing finger towards the couch.

"She is awake?" Elrond left the corner and rushed to her side. Gently he probed her throat and swollen nasal passages. "You have lost your voice again."

She nodded morosely. Uma. Yes.

Long fingers continued to explore her neck. "You must drink as much fluids as possible..."

"Tired of water, tired of tea!" Raspy vocal chords sliding with much effort over sandpaper.

"Then we will find juices for you! You are dehyd-"

"Make way! Make way!" Bobbin tore through the living area, running to the stairs.

"One moment, if you please." Snape grabbed the elf by the scruff of his tea towel and set him down roughly in front of him. "House elves should be seen and not heard! Where are you scurrying off to?"

Bobbin's eyes jerked back and forth nervously. "Why... why... Professor Powell's personal chambers-"

"And why are you in such a mad dash to her personal chambers?"

The little elf nervously fingered his holstered water pistols. "Why...to... fumigate-"

"You mean you have not done it yet?" Snape hissed, picking him up by the neck and holding him at eye level. "She has been in that room, breathing the rot that is making her ill-"

The little elf squirmed uncomfortably. "Professor Powell has not lthe the room! Bobbin could not while Missy Bronwyn was in there!"

Snape was now shaking the house elf, only to be stopped by a gnarled hand.

"Severus." Albus' voice was quiet and concerned. "Put Bobbin down."

Slowly, he lowered his arm, releasing his grip; taking in the four sets of ancient eyes, staring back at him.

The bothersome thing scuttled behind the twins, using them as a shield and peering at the group.

"Head Master. This pathetic excuse of an house elf has blatantly disregarded-"

"Severus. He is correct that Bronwyn has not left her chamber, but rarely. He has been very diligent about the rest of her chambers and the dungeons. I understand he even included your chambers as the two of you are close and she has been known to spend time there." Albus nodded to Bobbin. "It is all right. You may continue."

The little elf crept from behind the twins and after being congenially nodded at by both them and the Elf Lord, he swiftly sped up the stairs.

"And where do you think you are going?" Severus turned his ill temper from the rescued house elf to the woman behind him, attempting to get off the couch.

Bronwyn glared, grabbing a nearby notebook and quill. Scribbling furiously, she tore off a sheet and threw it at him before curling back up on the couch and pulling a light quilt around her. Severus snatched the parchment from the air and read barely legible words.

‘Threaten my house elf again and I will kick your arse!'

Severus threw the note in tire ire and crossed his arms over his chest, fingers drumming churlishly. "Think you can?"

Bronwyn's only response was to turn her back on him, reclining fully on the couch with her nose pointed to the back.

"Ignoring me will not solve the problem, madam!"

She burrowed further.

Amadeus climbed atop her, entrenching himself between the back of the couch and her body, lying his head across her waist. Blue eyes glittered and he curled his lip just enough to show long incisors.

"Bah!" Snape turned his back on her and the beastie and stormedm hem her chambers. After all he had done for her, that she would threaten him...

***
Through the heartache, Through the tears
Through the waiting, Through the years
For people like us, In places like this
We need all the hope, That we can get

I still believe
Tim Capela
"Lost Boys" Soundtrack

***

He caught his robe in her classroom door and caught it again in his; his growls audible around the dungeon. Slinging the tattered garment as far as he could throw it, he snatched up the papers and accompanying potions, g wig with his red quill and ink and proceeded to slash angrily into all that was Gryffindor.

He was aware when his classroom door opened; he was aware of the kindly, elderly Wizard who came to stand in front of his desk.

"I am rather busy, Head Master." Severus snapped, never looking up, "so unless this is of some importance-"

"Oh, it is very important, Severus."

The Potions Master slammed the quill point down, shattering the tip. "Damn you, Albus! Even your voice twinkles!" Finally, bottss oss orbs looked up. "What do you want?"

Dumbledore made slow show of picking up the ruined quill and quietly incinerating it. "I understand you have not only continued to teach your classes, but have also spent all of your non-teaching hours watching over Bronwyn." He raised a finger, cutting off the sputtering of his most faithful spy. "Whether you have been brewing potions, administering the potions, staying at her bedside all night-" again, the finger wagged, "even going so far as to administer a retake of an exam for her. You are casting spells from your wand at both ends!"

Snape had grabbed the nearest writing implement from his quill jar and realized too late, it was the mechanical pencil she had left in his room months ago. Idly, he turned it end to end, tapping down on the his desk and allowing it to slide through his fingers, before turning it over and repeating the process. "I am simply aiding another Professor."

Albus' eyes twinkled even more as he removed the pencil from the Potions Master's grip. "Then you will not be adverse when I suggest you take some Dreamless Sleep potion tonight and sleep in your own bed. Let Elrond and... Amadeus care for her tonight."

The drumming pencil was replaced by drumming fingers. "Head Master. I do not trust them."

Albus was not taken aback. "Severus-"

"It is unseemly that four Elves are residing in her quarters!"

"Severus!" Albus adshedshed gently. "I understand your concern and your irritability. ‘They' are encroaching on your playing field. They are your bludgers to your snitch. Allow the Elves to minister to her tonight. You are wound tighter than a clock and she is-"

"Bitchy!"

Albus colored slightly. "Not the word I would choose, but yes. You are too easy a target for her." Albus patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave. "Take my advice. A little space and time apart from one you love is a good thing sometimes."

The door whispered shut behind him. Severus glared at the now gone figure and grabbed a new quill.

"Who said anything about love?"

***
I'll take my place
Upon this stage
I'll wait till the end of time
For you like everybody else

I still believe

***

Per the Head Master's ‘request,' Snape stayed away for several days, feeling her, sensing her. Her condition would improve, only to set back. He could feel her impatience at her illness, her anger at him at his perceived abandonment.

On Saturday, the twin sons of Elrond approached him for his aid in creating House - colored coded snowballs.

Apparently, they were to over see a mock Muggle battle for the Seventh Years.

"Do you think that is wise?" Snape hissed. "These students engaged in a most serious battle not six months ago!"

"Which is exactly why it is with snowballs! Not-"

"-red ones, however. Gryffindor will have to be gold!"

"And no magic! We will be confiscating-"

"-wands."

Both Elves nodded expectantly.

Severus pinched his nose and glared at the two. "I suppose this was Bronwyn's idea?"

"Quite ingenious, actually!" Only one student-"

"-knows the actual outcome. Or should, if he-"

"-actually read the text she gave him." Both nodded to each other in agreement.

"Merlin!" Snape whispered, half to himself. "Must be Weasley!"

Both Elves brightened. "Uma!"

Snape waved them from the chambers. "Color coded snowballs, indeed. Ask the Charms Professor, Flitwick. Or better, Albus. This sort of silliness would be right up his wizarding robes! I have more important things to deal with!"

"Ah, but!" Elladan... or was it Elrohir... leaned provocatively on his desk, "we thought you would want to be in on it, after all-"

"- your precious Slytherins have been paired with the Gryffindors." Twin not leaning on the desk finished his brother's sentence.

Severus was feeling most comfortable with the sinking feeling in his gut; she gave it to him so often.

"Why?"

"Do you really-"

"-wantknowknow?"

Gods! This must have been what it was like when the Marauders got together...

After coercing the reluctant professor, Elladan whispered to his brother in the hallway, "I almost feel sorry for the git!"

Elrohir nodded in agreement. "I have the deep feeling that he greatly wished he could simply bang his head against the dungeon wall, until it split!"

***
We had to meet the enemy a mile away Thunder in the air and the sky turned grey Assembling the knights and their swords were sharp There was hope in our English hearts

Swords of 1000 men
Traditional
***

On Monday afternoon, after a rather spirited discussion on the Invasion of Russia by German Troops and its subsequent failure, Elladan addressed the group in front of him.

"Hear ye, hear ye, gentle Witches and Wizards! I hereby call a cessation of hostilities for the next eighty four hours!"

"What the hell is he talking about?" Draco muttered to his cronies.

"Why, Master Malfoy!" Elladan chirped happily back, "if you would just shut your mouth for just a few more minutes, you might find out!"

"I can hear you just fine!"

"N'uma!" Elrohir shook his finger reprovingly, "one cannot talk and listen at the same time!"

Elladan looked aghast. "Muindor! I do believe a wise, old Elf said that once!"

Elrohir beamed at his brother. "Old. Wise. Yes, that is Erestor! I would not, however call him ‘old' to his face!"

"N'uma!"

The class watched the bantering back and forth much like a tennis match. "Would the two of you please get on with it?" Draco finally spat.

"Thought you would never ask!" Elladan literally bounced with glee. "On Friday afternoon, commencing immediately after lunch, this class will recreate a rather strategic battle of wills that took place during World War Two."

"The side that wins will earn one hundred points for their team!"

The entire class brightened at that and the four houses went heads in to whisper frantically.

Except one.

"Wait a minute!" Hermione Granger interrupted. "You said ‘team', not House."
h, sh, she is the brightest witch in the longest time, isn't she?" Elladan stage whispered to his brother.

"Uma, that is correct. We will meet for a short time during class Wednesday to discuss ammunition and rules-"

"Ammunition?" Draco was laughing. "You forget, we-"

"No magic." Elrohir smiled. "None." He spoke over groans and catcalls. "We will be confiscating wands and other magical implements! Ernie McMillian!"

The good-looking Head Boy's hand shot up. Elladan handed him several scrolls of parchment.

"This is the general outline of your teams' battle plans; terrain, objective, what not. You will head up the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Choose your captains and battalions wisely. Off with you!"

The two houses scurried out, clamoring to see the scrolls, held by Ernie.

That left...

"You can't be serious!" Draco was livid, the slash of scalp visible in the part of his blond locks, blushing like an overactive thermometer. "You wouldn't pair Slytherin with them!" Malfoy stabbed his finger at the Gryffindor side of the room.

"N'uma, we did not. Professor Powell did."

"She must be truly ill!"

Hermione's hand was waving up in the air.

"Yes, you with the madly flopping wrist!"

"Do you think it is a medical condition? She does it quite a bit."

"Shh! Yes?"

Hermione smirked at the Brothers Elf. "Sirs. I don't think you truly comprehend what is being asked here. Gryffindor and Slytherin are not on the best of terms even on a good day."

"That is an understatement!"

Hermione continued, ignoring the interruption. "To pair us together is a futile task! It's not feasible in the least!"

"But Miss Granger," Elladan replied jovially, "it IS feasible. Think." The Elf stepped in front of Draco's scowling countenance and placed a single upraised finger scant inches from his nose. "Professor Powell pitted intelligence and unwavering loyalty against cunning and bravery."

"And she gave the actual plans including outcome-" Elrohir was consulting Bronwyn's planner, "Ronald Weasley-"

"Merlin! We're dead!" Draco gasped.

"Excuse me, but my battle plans whd yod your dad's arse all over Hogwarts, thank you very much!" The red head had jerked out of his chair.

"Excuse me, but my father had nothing to do wioldeoldemort or that battle!" Draco had now stood up and was nose to nose with the charged up Gryffindor.

"Nothing to do?" Ron's face now matched his hair. "You're insane if you think-"

"Gentle Wizards!" Elrohir firmly placed himself between the battling teens, " It pains me to see my sons fight like guttersnipes!"

"Yours? They could easily be mine!"

Every Slytherin blanched.

"N'uma!" Elladan smacked Elrohir on the shoulder. "They are Arwen's!"

"True. She was forever-"

"-stubborn!" Both twins sighed.

"Regardless," and with this, Elladan bore down on Draco, "Mr. Weasley has the battle plans and the outcome. The side Gryffindor and Slytherin represent won. Win and your house gets one hundred points. Lose, your house loses one hundred points. Cause your team to lose, Slytherin or Gryffindor will lose one THOUSAND points." Elladan had changed from a jovial Elf to the battle hardened warrior he was. His fist curled under Draco's collar and he pulled him close. "Do you think you can find it possible to work with him? I am sure he could use a ... good commander."

"I'm no one's flunky!" The blond Slytherin hissed.

The tall Elf shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just remember the rules. You can participate as much or as little as you like." Elladan reached over and flicked a fleck of lint from the teen's shoulder. "Somehow, Professor Powell does not sou aou as sitting on the sidelines, taking order or twiddling your thumbs. How you go about it is up to you." He nodded towards the door, apparently done with the teen. "Good day."

Slowly, the remaining students filed out, the Gryffindor's knotting together around a still disbelieving redheaded ringleader.

Leaving the twins of Elrond.

And a still-lingering Malfoy.

"You weren't listening, were you?" Draco tried to force himself back in the path of the tall Elves. "Gryffindor and Slytherin House ot got get along!"

"I was listening, Mr. Malfoy!" Now Elrohir's entire stance and demeanor had changed. "You were not! Slytherin and Gryffindor House MUST compromise and work together as a team! They have skills you are in need of and you have skills they are in need of. longlonger you stand and argue, the shorter time you have to convince Mr. Wey hey he is in desperate need of your services." Both Elves walked away from the angry teen and held the classroom door open.

"Good day, Mr. Malfoy."

***

After morning classes on Tuesday, Severus approached Elrond, grinning rather maliciously. "I have the afternoon free and am going into Hogsmeade for some unusual ingredients for a potion. Would you care to join me?"

The Elf Lord agreed, wondering silently what the Wizard was up to.

He was not left wondering for long.

"This is poison!"

Severus looked up from the simmering cauldron, eyes glittering through the steam. "As much as I would love to be rid of her, I would not stoop so low as to kill her!" He felt the Elf Lord rifle through his mind, like the fluttering of fall leaves.

"Nay. You wish to be rid of us, her husband! We stifle your wooing of her! She is yours and no other's." Elrond's sapphire eyes glowed in the smoky darkness of Snape's laboratory. "I have watched your solicitous care of her. It has mos most admirable, small wonder Haldir is so jealous." He watched as the Potions Master uncorked another bottle of Jack Daniels' whiskey and poured it slowly into the cauldron, stirring until it began to bubble. "Poison!"

"No, my lord Elf." It was spat, venomously. "A cure!" Using his chin, he pointed to the bag sitting barely within reach. "Are you going to hand me the rock candy or not?"

Elrond snatched the bag and thrust it at him. "Poison!" he whispered.

"You realize," Snape's voice silkily flowed over the steam, "that Bronwyn made a concoction for me once. One she claims you gave her."

"A... concoction?" Elrond questioned. "The only thing I ever gave her was a relaxing tea to ease her during labor."

The Potions Master shrugged. "That is what she said it was-"

"By the stars of Elbereth, did you drink an entire pot of that?" The Elf Lord appeared to be completely flabbergasted.

"That swill tasted like dirt, but yes, I drank-"

"You must have slept an entire day!" Elrond grimaced, waving through boilboiling steam.

"Eight hours. Maybe."

"That is all? Amazing." Severus sneered at the whispered remark. "For whatever reason would she give you t"
"

Severus continued dropping rock candy into the brew, slowly stirring. "I had a headache."

"I am very sorry. It must have been a horrific headache, indeed." The dark-haired Elf stuck his nose back over the cauldron. "Poison!"

"Whatever!"

***

There is so much a man can tell you
So much he can say
You remain my power,
my pleasure, my pain

Rose on the Grey
Seal
***

Bronwyn sat in the floor of her office, looking fair put out at the orderly manner in which it had been arranged. The shelves were no longer scraggly; neat folders were arranged on seven rows of shelves, for seven years of Muggle Studies. No longer were there haphazard stacks of paper, rolled parchment shoved in corners. There was room on the floor, for her Celtic Harp; her desk was neat and orderly, with baskets and blotter. Haldir's bow sat propped in the corner behind her desk.

"So, how often do you plan on coming back to keep this neat?" Bronwyn chewed thoughtfully on an apple.

Erestor smiled and continued to label folders. "I know you well, Bronwyn of Lorien." His voice was rich, melodious. "Once in order, you will keep it that way." He turned to stroke her hair. "It was getting it organized that is your weakness. Ah." He turned to peruse his handiwork. "Problem solved. What think you, tithen aras?"

Bronwyn slowly stood up and stretched, scratching her side. "What think I? I think I have missed you."

The slender Noldor pulled her into a friendly embrace. "I have missed you as well." He felt her body convulse as she sneezed several times and handed her a tissue. She nodded her thanks, eyes watering as she blew. Dropping the wadded scrap into the wastebasket, she mumbled, "Where is Amadeus?"

"I believe he is with Professor Lupin at the moment. He needed a break. He has been ever vant-ant-"

"Well, he had to be! That pathetic excuse of a Shield has been invisible, it would seem!"

Erestor took a deep breath, understanding the cause of her ire. "I understand what you wrote to him was rather rude." Erestor had a soft spot for Bronwyn, but true to his word, he had never coddled her. He found a more direct approach suited her.

"He was mean to Bobbin." She sniffed into a clean tissue.

" ‘Tis my understanding, he is mean to everyone!" he emphasized. The Elf took in her bowed head. "Bronwyn, for quite some time, the Wizard has kept up with his classes, dealt with one of yours, stood watch over you, around the clock, and brewore ore potions in an effort to aid you, whether internal, external or for the mold and mildew you are allergic to." A long, slender hand cupped her under the chin, tilting her face upwards. "Do not be selfish, tithen aras. He is exhausted! Give him a small bit of credit."

"Is everyone on his side?"

The Noldor laughed. "We are on your side, tithen aras. We all want you to find your bow, so that you will be reunited with Haldir."

"I know." It was a defeated sound and Bronwyn turned to stroke the highly polished wood of the Galadhrim made bow.

Erestor wanted to console her, assure her all would be well, but he knew, deep down, each word would fall on shuttered ears, a mind that would not believe until all hands were played and the final proof lay at her feet.

***You have ever been a difficult Vessel, Bronwyn, Beloved of Haldir***

"What is the plan on finding your bow?" Bronwyn thought his change of subject was a subtle way of diverting her attention and she watched him return to the shelves, checking one last time that all was in order.

"As soon as I get good and well, Severus is calling in some favors from a few ‘connections'." She raised her hand to ward off the question. "Don't ask. I don't know and don't want to know! We are going to break into the Ministry of Magic and , as the Americans say, let my fingers do the walking through the records department."

"Sounds like fun!"

Bronwyn's grin looked like something she might have stolen from Elrond's sons. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?"

They were enveloped by a comfole sle silence, one often shared by old friends. Soon, they were sitting in the floor, two dark heads bent over a single musically theoretical tome whispering over...

"What a lovely scene. Shall I leave?"

Bronwyn's head jerked up so quickly, she bumped Erestor, causing him to grab his jaw. Anger flooded her-

Wait.

-Severus felt it; anger, accusatory feeling; she felt neglected, ignored -

Wait.

Controlled.

"You look rested, Severus."

If he was taken aback by her concerned attitude, he didn't let it show. Black eyes raked her office critically. "I do not believe this is the same room. Master Erestor, you are truly a miracle worker." The tone, while icy, was courteous.

Erestor nodded at the rare compliment, coming from this Wizard. "I have understood how Bronwyn's mind works for many a millennium. ‘Twas an easy and delightful task."

Severus was not impressed by the exquisite manners of the dark Elf. In fact, his good humor hung by a thin, quickly unraveling thread. "Perhaps you could impart some of your vast wisdom concerning her to me."

"Excuse me?" Bronwyn blurted sarcastically. "I am here in the room, right under your nose; not that that is difficult! If you are going to ignore me, do me the courtesy and go somewhere else!"

Slowly, Snape turned to her, his eyes perusing her form slowly. "When was the last time you took any medication?"

Her brow knotted in thought. "Around noon. Luncheon-"

"Have you eaten since?"

"N'uma."

Severus put his hand deep in a pocket and pulled one vial with a thick, amber colored liquid. "I will inform Bobbin we are ready to eat. You are to have a substantial meal before you take this."

Bronwyn was eyeing the vial dolefully. "Something new?"

"Something different."

Elrond was standing behind the tall Wizard, eyebrows drawn down in an angry slash, arms crossed over his chest.

"Did he put hemlock in it, Elrond?"

Severus' hand flicked over his heart, dark lashes dusting pale cheeks. "You wound me with your disbelief, Bronwyn." Angrily, his eyes shot open and he thrust via vial at her. "Take it!" he said forcefully. "You will need to take it on a full stomach."

Bronwyn reached for it gingerly, reluctant to take the vial. "I haven't taken anything long enough to let it work."

"Ten days, madam. Ten days you have been ill, your classes in the hands of others. How many times have you dehydrated to the point of losing your voice? How many times have you slept the day away, only to roam the floors at night, your nose dripping like one of Longbottom's cauldrons? How many times have you sat at your piano and wished your headache would allow you to play?" He forcefully placed the vial in her hand. "Just take it! You have not questioned anything else I have brewed for you. Do you not trust me?"

Bronwyn's eyes jerked upwards in shock. She gripped the vial, herckleckles turning white. "Trust you?" she hissed. "Do I have a choice?"

The Potions Master's hand curled around hers, his thumb gently brushing her fingers. "You could refuse and continue on as is." He leaned down, his lips caressing her ear. "I assure you, it is an old family recipe, handed down to me by an old crone of a woman I think you would adore. Take it."

Uncomfortably aware of his hands holding hers, Bronwyn pulled back, jerking them away. She was surprised when he allowed her to pull around him. She headed to the dining area mumbling. "Some choice."

Ninety minutes later, Bronwyn lay sprawled on her couch, sleeping off the effects of Jack Daniels Whiskey and Rock Candy.

***
War
Ugh
What's it good for?
Absolutely nothing!
Good God, y'all

War
Edwin Star
***

The Seventh Year Gryffindors were huddled in the back of the library, heads in a knot.

"We don't need them!" Padma whispered savagely. She hugged herself, trying to ward off the cold draft coming in through the windows behind her. "I wish... I wish... I wish Seamus was here."

The small group murmured in agreement.mus mus and Padma had been very close that previous year and he had died, while defending her from three Death Eaters.

Two of the Death Eaters had died by his wand, the third was locked up in Azkaban.

"I wish Seamus was here too, Padma." Hermione gthe the girl a comforting hug. "And Colin."

"And Richard"

"And Lee."

Harry sat quietly in the corner, his whisper barely heard.

"And Cho."

It was quiet for a few minutes.

"Look," Ron finally spoke up, breaking the silence, "as much as I would love to say to hell with them, we are hugely outnumbered by the opposing team. Believe me, I've tried to figure out a way to tell Draco and his cronies to stay in their dungeon!"

"Problem is, Weasel," The Slytherins had surrounded the tight group of lions, Draco across from the redhead, arms crossed and hip cocked, "If you do that, your House will lose so many points, it will take years for you to catch back up!" He proceeded to inspect his nails while the group before him sputtered in fury, in denial. "Trouble is, while we would love to see you laid lower than the stone we supposedly crawl on, what challenge would we have beating you in the House Cup? You would be out of the race too soon for our-" and with this, he gestured to his House-mates, "tastes."

"You lie!" The hisses came up from the pit of young adults.

"He does not!" Ron interrupted. He sat back down into his chair with a thud. "Malfoy is right. If we leave them out, purposely, we lose more points than we can re-earn! And with so many of us in Snape's Advanced Potions, he would make sure we didn't catch up in the slightest. It would be the worst drubbing in the history of Hogwarts."

"Professowellwell is pretty smart, for a Muggle." Malfoy leered. "She has effectively enforced our cooperation!"

It took a moment for the information to soak in.

"Look!" Neville bowed up and poked Malfoy in the chest. "You let Ron make the plan and you just folordeorders! We'll do just fine!"

Draco smirked, looking at his cronies. "Look who has finally found his backbone! Are you frenedened of Longbottom, Crabbe?"

Crabbe shook his head, an evil smile on his face.

"Goyle?"

Likewise.

"Sorry, Longbottom." the blond Slytherin smirked. "You are still not impressive!"

The Gryffindors did not back down.

"Say what you will," Neville hissed in Malfoy's face, "the fact remains that we beat your dad and his cronies quite soundly last spring!-"

Crabbe's face lost all color and several of the Slytherins moved behind the furious Snake.

Draco never stopped smiling. "Again, you are wrong. You did not defeat anyone. The Scarhead who lived defeated He Who Shall Not Be Named. Big difference!" The two sides were nose to nose in a stand off that showed no signs of backing down.

No one paid attention to the dark haired boy, white as pale linen as the air sizzled with negative energy.

Draco was the first to speak, taking charge of the situation. "Look. You need us to succeed. We need you to succeed.sel sel has the plans, we have the cunning to implement the plan and you have the courage to fulfill the plan. We can't use magic and score is kept by Color. Coded. Snowballs." The young man was snickering as he spoke.

"With what?"

"How did fin find that out?"

The dragon- seed of Lucius Malfoy was still chortling. "I'll just admit I was at the right place at the right time to hear that little tidbit! You heard me! Snowballs! Gold for you, Silver for us, blue and green for ene enemy!"

Padma started to giggle. "This thing is going to boil down to a huge snowball fight. I can't wait to pick off my sister!"

Pansy smirked at Hermione. "I wonder how many of you we can pick off under the guise of ‘friendly fire'?" She found Ron's finger in her face.

"NOT until it's over! Got it? He whipped out the book Professor Powell had given him and spread out several scrolls. "Now. Here's the deal..."

***
tbc
***

N'uma - no
Uma - yes
Tithen Aras - Little dear

Thanks Sheena!

The concoction that Severus brews for Bronwyn is an old country recipe. It varies from family to family, but that is exactly how my grandfather made it. Let me tell you, it would knock shit out of a politician.