#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 32 ~ The Obeah and the Dragon Come to An Understanding


Marcus rematerialized. It was bright, and he was blinded for a moment by the sun. It had been night in Hogsmeade. Slowly his surroundings came into view. He was standing outside of what could only be called a hut, made of thatch. He stepped inside. It wasn’t a small hut, but very simple, with a door in front and one in back, with square windows on each side, each with a kind of hinged weaved window covering, held up by a rope to let the light in. The floor of the hut was earth, and he could make out handmade furniture, chairs and small tables. Mosquito netting was draped around each window, ready to be pulled across if needed. On the walls were masks and primitive artwork, brightly colored. A stack of long woven grass mats were piled in one corner of the room. Wooden bowls and utensils were stacked on a small handmade table near the back door. Marcus could hear humming, and walked through the hut and out into the yard.

Here was an outdoor kitchen. On one side he saw a well, and another handmade table, made of thicker wood than the one in the hut. A small fire built in a slight depression was crackling merrily, a flat stone propped above it. Before it kneeled Cassandra, feeding the flame with small sticks. She was dressed in a blue sari, and had an apron tied around her. Her black hair was tied back in a long French braid, with a blue ribbon on the end. She wore a necklace of what appeared to be teeth. Marcus couldn’t be sure. He telescoped his eyes, yep…teeth alright. Actually fangs. She stood up, dusted off her hands on her apron and turned around. She saw Marcus and her face lit up as she gave him a dazzling white smile, that flashed against her chocolate-skin. Marcus caught his breath at how lovely she was.

“Dragon man!” she said, walking up to him and giving him her hand. Marcus kissed it. She smelled of earth, wood and fire. She was not perfumed, but smelled clean, like nature.

“Cassandra,” he smiled. She led him to the outdoor table and gestured for him to sit. He did, looking around the yard, as she returned to the fire, placing larger pieces of wood within the flame. Her home was surrounded by jungle, broad-leafed plants and grasses abounded. He could smell the sea. Looking to his left he noticed a small neat, square garden. A number of small plants were pushing up out of the earth.

“What is in your garden, Cassandra?” he asked curiously.

She turned, wiping her hands on her apron again.

“Yams, mostly. Some potatoes, tomatoes, thyme and other herbs I use for cooking and rituals,” she said. She sat down across from him, her honey brown eyes staring at him intently. Marcus studied her just as intensely, feeling a strange sensation in his belly as he met her eyes. He felt as if the Obeah was looking into his soul.

“You look good, dragon man,” she said smiling, “How has your life been since your battle?”

“I’ve been well, still teaching at Hogwarts,” he said shortly. He couldn’t seem to drum up the banter he usually had prepared for beautiful women he wanted to fuck. He didn’t feel it appropriate. He looked at the Obeah, and cleared his throat ready to say something he didn’t ordinarily say.

“Cassandra, I want to thank you for saving my life on the astral plane,” he said sincerely.

“Aw, dragon man, you are worth saving,” she said, “the world would be less interesting without you in it. I couldn’t let them take you.” She smiled at him. Marcus swallowed. No one had ever told him that the world wouldn’t be the same without him. He always believed he wouldn’t be missed. It was an odd feeling.

Trying to shake the sensation, he said, “You summoned me for a service. What can I do for you?” The act of making love to her breezed through his mind. Cassandra laughed.

“No, dragon man, I did not summon you here for that. There are other things to do in this world than to find pleasure with a woman, you know,” she grinned at him.

“Yes,” he replied, his violet eyes telescoping at her hotly, “but few things that feel as good.”

Cassandra looked at him soberly for a moment. “Bumba, this man is like fire,” she thought. “I might have to throw water on myself soon.”

She stood up. “Come,” she said, “I will show you the service I need done.” Marcus rose and followed her, his eyes drifting to her ass as she walked before him. Gods, the woman could probably wear a potato sack and not hide those hips. He noticed she was barefoot, and wore a number of brightly colored wooden bracelets around her slim ankles. He imagined the music they would make if those ankles were up in the air, rocking.

“Marcus,” Cassandra said as she walked ahead of him, “you must think more politely around me, man. I can hear your thoughts, and they are not suitable for courtship, honest as they are.”

She turned to him. “You do want to court Cassandra, yes?”

“Yesss,” Marcus hissed, thinking he would do anything to have her at least once.

She raised her eyebrows at him, “Only once, dragon man? I am not like that. If you want Cassandra, then you will have to be faithful, and willing to stick around. If you cannot do that, we will be friends, and friends only.”

Marcus hesitated.

“Cha, don’t worry about that now, you are far from being in my bed, dragon man. There are other things in your system that have to be worked out before you are ready for me. Like Rosmerta. She is beautiful and ready, yes?” Cassandra said as she stopped by a tree.

Marcus didn’t reply. Yes, Rosmerta was pretty enough, but she was no Cassandra.

“To come to me, you have to be tired of being alone, Marcus,” Cassandra said softly, “tired of going from woman to woman, from bed to bed. Tired of sleeping and waking alone, eating alone, facing your joys and your troubles alone. You must want to share yourself, beyond the body and the quick orgasm. You are like a closed blossom, dragon man, there is a sweet nectar inside you that no one can reach until you open. Cassandra will settle for being your sun for now. I will warm you, and coax you open if you let me. I demand nothing of you but to be your special friend. When you are ready, there will be more.”

She bent over and picked up an axe. She handed it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning the sharp but weathered tool over in his hands.

“An axe. Your service is to chop wood for me,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Chop wood? With this?” Marcus pulled out his wand.

Cassandra scowled, “No magic. You will perform no magic when you are on my island, dragon man. That is my rule. And this is your service. You gave me an oath.”

“Fine,” Marcus said.

He was a little angry at having his magic curtailed, but didn’t let it show, though he knew she knew he was upset. He eyed the surrounding trees. They were all rather slender and limbless, so it shouldn’t take him long. As his eyes searched the forest, they fell on a man standing near a clump of bushes. He was a black man, but was rather pale, and he didn’t move…just stood there.

He pointed to him.

“Who is that?” he asked. Cassandra followed his finger until her eyes lit on the motionless man.

“Ah, that is an unwanted suitor. He tracked me for two years, trying to find me. I didn’t like him like that, you know. And told him so. He was very angry. He finally found me, and in his heart he meant to take me by force, so there he is. He’s a zombie,” she said dismissively.

“How long has he been here?” Marcus asked, staring at the man, whose clothes were tattered and weather-worn.

“I think five months now, give or take a week. He is fine. He doesn’t need to eat or sleep in this condition. He can see and hear everything, you know. He just can’t move without my permission. Eventually I will restore him and send him home, after he learns proper respect for an Obeah woman,” she said, considering the glassy eyed man. “There are several more scattered about my island,” she said, looking at Marcus, “all had evil intentions towards me, and are being punished.”

“How long will you hold them?” Marcus said, looking at the Obeah woman with deeper respect.

She shrugged, “As long as it takes, dragon man.”

Now that was chilling. Cassandra had a mean streak. He sort of liked that. She was no push-over, no victim. She knew how to protect herself with a vengeance. Marcus selected a tree and began to chop.

“I am going to make us supper,” Cassandra said, walking back up the trail, “remember, no magic, dragon man…if you use it, I will know. You must always be honest with me.

He nodded and watched her walk up the trail, trying not to think impure thoughts but failing miserably.

“Patience!” Cassandra called back laughing.

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It was a couple of hours before Marcus finished cutting the wood into small logs, carrying armfuls up to the outdoor kitchen and storing them under a lean- to-shed covered in pitch. He had chopped enough wood to last her half a season at least, and he was hot, tired and very hungry. He had removed his shirt while working, and his body glistened with his efforts. From her place by the fire, Cassandra admired his body, as his muscles flexed beneath the huge armfuls of wood he deposited neatly beneath the shed. Rozz, the man was pretty. When he unloaded the last load of wood, he walked over to the table and sat down. Cassandra brought over a wet towel and wiped his face, neck, back and chest slowly, cooling him down even as she heated him up. She could feel the ripple of his muscles beneath the fabric of the towel as she drew it over him, particularly his ribbed abdomen. She sucked in her breath, remembering Endora’s words, and steeled herself. Then she brought him a pitcher of cold mango juice and a round cup carved from a coconut. Marcus drank thirstily as she brought him food.

Stewed fish with island vegetables over white rice, with plantain and a slice of breadfruit. Marcus tucked into the food, swearing that he had never tasted anything so good. She watched him eat, thinking of an old adage her grandmother had once told her.

“If you want to know what kind of lover a man is, watch him work, watch him play and watch him eat,” the wise old Obeah had told her on her fifteenth birthday, “then you will have the right of him.”

Marcus had shown her he did not mind hard work, and applied himself to chopping wood with strength and gusto, stacking the logs neatly and precisely in the shed. He consumed his food with relish and great enjoyment, unabashedly emitting little grunts of appreciation as he ate. Cassandra got a warm feeling in her belly as she watched him. If grandmother was right, which she usually was, then Marcus would be a strong, thorough, appreciative lover for sure. Plus, Endora vouched for him. For the first time, Cassandra felt a little jealousy at her friend experiencing the dragon man’s passion, but it passed quickly. She knew it was her own urges that rankled her, and not Endora. Still, time was needed, if she were to bring the man around. To lay with him now, would not be good for either of them in the long run. It seemed the need for patience would work both ways. She was glad he could not read her thoughts.

Sated, Marcus pushed the empty wooden plate away.

“Gods, Cassandra…that was delicious!” he said.

“Would you like some dessert? I have mangos and bananas inside,” the Obeah asked as she picked up the plate, the wooden fork, the pitcher and the coconut cup.

“No thank you,” he replied, “I’m good.”

He watched the Obeah take the utensils inside, and heard her washing them. He thought he could enjoy her cooking for him for the rest of his days. It was so much better than food from house-elves, not that their food was bad…but there was something special about a meal prepared for a man by the hands of a woman. Cassandra returned from the hut, and stood before Marcus.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, which was beginning to flush with color as night crept across the waters. Marcus looked at Cassandra standing silhouetted against the dying light, and thought he had never seen a sight so exotic and beautiful. She had removed her apron, and the sari showed every womanly curve. He remembered to breathe.

“So, what do we do now?” he asked her, his eyes slowly passing over her body.

“We go down to the water, and watch the sun set,” she said, taking his hand in her warm grasp.

Her hand was not soft as those of the women he was used to, but had their own sensuality. They were firm, strong, and knowing, reminding him of sun warming sand whenever they touched him. Silently Marcus rose and let her lead him down the path to the shore. The view was breathtaking. She sat down in the sand, wrapping her arms around her knees, gazing out across the water, the setting sun reflected in her eyes. Marcus sat down beside her, aware of the warmth of her body as they sat shoulder to shoulder.

“It is beautiful, yes?” she said.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, looking sidelong at her.

“Beauty is for everyone,” Cassandra said her eyes glowing in the dying light, “it is a gift given to all. It only has to be accepted, like love.”

Marcus listened, absorbing her words. He couldn’t ever remember feeling such peace. Her presence was comforting, pleasurable, even if he wasn’t actively tasting her charms. He had never been in a woman’s presence this long without actually fucking her. He found he didn’t mind it. He leaned against Cassandra slightly. She didn’t chastise him. He looked at her and she turned her head to meet his eyes.

“May I?” he asked, lifting his arm slightly. She nodded, and he placed his arm lightly around her shoulder. She fit perfectly and moved a little closer, sighing, leaning her head gently against his. They sat that way for a long time, a man and a woman watching the sun set, both at peace, both hoping that someday they would share something more.

THE END

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A/N: Marcus has to start somewhere. Sorry no lemons. But that brings this story to an end. I appreciate all my readers and reviewers. Thank you for your encouragement and support of my writing. You are all very appreciated. Much love, and please give a final review. Thanks.

PS: Please feel free to email me any comments, questions, SS/HG pics or just plain chattiness you care to send. They are always welcome and I’ll do my best to reply. My email address is truthsolomon@yahoo.com. Thanks again.