One wish alone have I

Chapter 23 (part 2)
One wish alone have I

During the last week of March, I was ordered to alert my Lord and ask him to lead the Zaharia and Russian armies to England. The quarters they would live in had been prepared ages ago, and everything was ready to welcome them in that most western part of Europe. Voldemort had made plans to assassinate the Minister of Magic (something we were surprised that he had not already attempted before), and he wanted to have a powerful army at his side, in addition to his Death Eaters, to handle and take advantage of the government’s and masses’ reaction (and probable disorganisation) after that coup d’état.

Four nights later, I rose from my seat at the staff table in the Great Hall in the middle of the evening meal and hurried down the aisle towards the door, with a puzzled Severus at my heels. As soon as we reached the school grounds, I kicked off my shoes and raised my arms to the sky, all my senses in alert as Severus threw his teaching robes on my shoulders and wrapped me in them the best he could. Seconds later, having my hopes confirmed, I let out a joyful gasp that took the shape of a small cloud of mist in the cold breeze.

“What is it?” he asked. “You will catch a cold if you stand there like that!”

“Do you not feel it, my love?” I excitedly asked. “The great Zaharia Army is coming! The Russians and Ukrainians are with them! My kind is coming as promised, Severus!”

“How many are they?” he asked, stepping behind me and wrapping me in his long arms to keep me warm.

“I feel about five hundred souls! Many are flying, and those who cannot fly have Transfigured and are being carried by the others… and some are Apparating their way to England. They have reached the Thames as we speak!”

“So close already? We must alert Albus… and the Dark Lord.”

“Yes, of course, of course!” I giggled.

I would have stayed there for much longer, had it not been for our responsibilities and the weather. I cannot describe the powerful feeling of euphoria that seized me when I felt the approach of so many members of my kind. I was proud, so very proud that Ivantie and Andrusha had finally come to terms with the Russian clans and decided to help the Order fight against the Dark Lord, altogether as the one united and mighty force that my noble kind could represent!

Ivantie and Pietr were summoned for a private meeting with the Dark Lord that same night; they were told to wait for his orders and simply settle in the living quarters that had been prepared for them and their soldiers. Five nights later, the assassination attempt was made on the Minister of Magic. The latter had been alerted in advance, of course, and wore a Muggle bulletproof jacket under his robes, both at home and at the Ministry.

Indeed, Voldemort had decided that an assassination made with a Muggle weapon, in addition to being astoundingly degrading and humiliating (in his mind) for the Minister, would also have a better chance of being successful, as his bodyguards might not be well-prepared for that kind of attack. Niculaie and Marcela, pretending to put their great knowledge of Muggle guns at the Dark Lord’s disposal, helped the Death Eaters responsible for the orchestration of that attack. They discreetly replaced the bullets with blank cartridges and Marcela magically Transfigured them to look like real ones. Therefore, the hit wizard did his job as planned and used the rifle normally when he shot the Minister just after the beginning of a press conference in London.

We had not anticipated that the Dark Lord himself would examine the cartridges that remained in the rifle after the unfortunate Death Eater reported his failure to him… or that he would break through the protective Concealing Charms and unravel the truth. Both Marcela and Niculaie were lucky to avoid a painful death; they were punished with a particularly cruel Cruciatus Curse instead. Or so we thought they were lucky… the Dark Lord’s decision had nothing to do with luck. That attack, I figured shortly later, was only the last of a long series of small tests… aimed at Severus and me.

About a week and a half after the failed attack, Ivantie came to Hogwarts and asked to talk to me privately. Puzzled by his unusual request, I invited him to sit with me in my former quarters.

“Tasia,” he began, with a seriousness that I was not used to seeing him display. “I have an important message for you. Valerica consulted the Great Dragon before we left Zaharia, and Sebestyen appeared to her. He requested to speak to you.”

“By Cerridwen! This is no usual request!” I exclaimed, wondering what my Sire wished to tell me about. “Do you know what his motives are?”

“No idea,” he answered, shaking his head. “The only thing he told Valerica was that he wanted you to be alone with him… and that you had to stand in front of the orb at precisely 7:30 on the evening of the 15th of April.”

“That is in half an hour, Ivantie!” I exclaimed in alarm. “I have to Floo to the castle immediately if I want to be there on time!”

“You do not need to go to the castle, my friend,” he replied, putting a calming hand on my arm. “The Great Dragon is waiting for you in the Forbidden Forest.”

“What? How is that possible?”

“Do not tell me you did not know that this good old Ernie can still fly?” he said with a teasing smile.

“Of course I do! But who brought it back to life?”

“Valerica, of course, with the help of Sebestyen himself. I rode him for a part of the journey; sitting on cold marble for hours in a row is not really my idea of comfort, but it was quite an experience nevertheless!”

“And you brought it here for me?”

“To the Forbidden Forest, yes. The Headmaster gave me permission to hide the Dragon there; I am sure he will prove to be a precious ally during major confrontations. He can be fairly intimidating, you know, especially during a charge. And the soldiers are quite enthusiastic about fighting alongside him on the battlefield.”

“I can imagine! Shall we go?”

“Sure! Warn Severus and grab your cloak; we will have to fly rather deep into the Forest.”

Severus really did not like the idea of me wandering away from the castle without him, but Ivantie assured him that he would watch over me and after a short debate, he let us go. We then hurried to front doors and Transfigured; about fifteen minutes later, we were standing in front of the magnificent white marble statue, which shone with an eerie glow in the night among the ancient trees. As soon as I touched one of its front legs, I felt how Valerica and Sebestyen had indeed brought the animal to a state closer to life; it was vibrating and pulsing powerfully in harmony with the forces of nature that surrounded us.

Long minutes passed before the Great Dragon stirred on the ground and offered me the orb. A moment later, the white mist inside it whirled faster and faster until it revealed my Sire’s face, which grew bigger and started emerging from the sphere. Gradually, the misty shape changed and grew, and my Sire, at long last, stood before me.

“It is wonderful to see you again, my Lord,” I exclaimed with emotion, bending into a respectful bow.

“My dear child,” he replied, taking my hands in his and making me walk closer to him. “I am afraid the joy I feel tonight is tainted with sadness.”

“Sadness, Sire?”

“I have an important message for you… it might be difficult for you to hear it, as it will be painful for me to transmit it to you. But before I speak,” he said, turning to Ivantie, who was still standing aside, “I see that you have not come here alone as I requested.”

“I apologize, my Lord. Ivantie is my closest friend, and he is the one who led me to the Dragon in order to meet you.”

“And Lord of Zaharia as well, from the brooch I see on his cloak! Horatiu said once that you two would undoubtedly meet and bind,” replied my Sire with a knowing smile. “Is he the father of the child you carry?”

“No, my Lord,” I answered. “A human wizard named Severus Snape gave me that honour.”

“Ah, well…” he commented, as his eyes twinkled with fatherly love. “You have always had your own manner in doing things differently. Do you wish for Ivantie to stay?”

“I do, Sire.”

“And you, Ivantie,” he continued, turning to my friend again, “are you ready to hear my message and give Antanasia your comfort, understanding and most importantly… the promise to respect her wishes following our conversation?”

“Of course, Sebestyen, as I always have,” replied my friend solemnly.

“Very well,” he sighed, the grip of his fingers tightening slightly on my hands. “Antanasia, you have restlessly questioned me about the visions I had the night of your rebirth. I did have a few visions, but they only indicated the right moment for us to have this conversation. With the visions came a Prophecy… and after you hear it, it will become clearer why I had to wait until this very moment.”

“Please go ahead, Sire,” I bravely replied, grateful for the firm and reassuring touch of his hands in mine.

Sighing deeply again, the venerable cainite caressed my hands with his thumbs for a few seconds before he took a deep breath and phrased what he had heard while I passed from life to afterlife.

“The hands that took love away from you once will fail to take it twice, shall you fiercely fight them to protect the seed of life you cradle inside your womb. The price to pay will be high, but you shall see the reward come to you in time, for the hands that spared you once will then fulfill their duty, and so Antanasia, you shall indeed be reborn.”

Before my eyes, blurred flashes of the future passed at dazzling speed as my Sire shared them through the filial bond we had always shared. I saw the outline of a man with long blond hair turning abruptly to me... and then something shot out of his hand and hit me by surprise. A couple of flashes later, he was gone... only to be replaced by my dearest Severus, whom I recognized at once. His features were drawn in a very strange expression; there were so many emotions there that I could not figure out which one predominated over him. One flash later, he raised a long sword in the air, which I recognized to be mine. I closed my eyes, unable to watch... and knowing that there would be nothing else for me to watch beyond that point. A sudden wave of dizziness seized me and I swayed on my feet; a pair of strong arms grabbed me firmly and kept me standing.

“When?” was all I could articulate, as my Sire covered me with the warm and caring fathering glance he always had in reserve for me.

“Count the years that have passed since you first came into this world; they are twice the hours that will come and die until the prophecy is accomplished.”

“I understand,” I dully replied, looking down and wishing that the ground would open and swallow me whole.

“My little one, I am sorry!” exclaimed Sebestyen, putting a finger under my chin to level my eyes with his. “But a Prophecy like this came to me from more than the mere choice of your name! Surely it must mean something more to you!”

“Yes… I think I have figured out what it means quite well, Sebestyen,” I whispered.

“Then use your knowledge wisely, my dearest child. Use it to prepare for what is coming… and to make the right decisions.”

“Thank you, Sebestyen… I will,” I replied, one of my hands still trembling in his.

“I must go now,” he declared, his face becoming less and less definite with each passing second, “for my magical resources are fading. Ivantie, please take care of her. The nights ahead of her will not be easy. As for you, Antanasia… my arms will be there to embrace you when… the Prophecy comes true.”

“Goodbye, Sebestyen,” I articulated.

His answer came to us only as a feeble echo of his voice. His silhouette completely turned to a white fog that got sucked back into the Dragon’s orb. I stood on spot with my hand still raised at the level of my waist until the warmth from Sebestyen’s touch vanished from the surface of my skin. Not feeling able to look Ivantie in the eye, I turned to the Dragon and sat on the ground, leaning my cheek against one of its powerful legs, like each time I needed his mighty protection. Unfortunately, as I soon realised, his protection seemed completely unable to prevent me from meeting the terrible fate that awaited me.

“We will not let it happen, Tasia,” said Ivantie, sitting next to me and wrapping his arms around me.

“What have you in mind, my friend?” I replied sadly, my eyes still vaguely fixed on a random point in the darkness ahead.

“The hands who took love away from you once… you know who that is?”

“Absolutely. I even saw him in the visions Sebestyen shared with me.”

“I will have him killed. I will even do it myself!” he resolutely declared. “He will not touch one hair on your head, you hear me?”

“You heard the rest, Ivantie!” I painfully interrupted, as my capacity to feel again brutally exploded into my chest. “For those hands to fail to take love away from me twice, I have to fight them! How will I fight him if he dies? How will I protect Severus and the baby?”

“Why would he want to attack you, Tasia?” he asked.

“They come at those you love…” I murmured, my mind racing wildly to figure out all the meanings of the Prophecy. “Severus said those words a few times when he worried about my safety. We have been unmasked, Ivantie. The Dark Lord probably knows about the help Severus and I have been giving the Order. He probably thought it more cruel to have me and the baby killed instead of Severus… and he is perfectly right.”

“I cannot let it happen!” he stubbornly argued. “How can you even consider letting it happen!”

“Believe me, if I had the choice, I would choose afterlife, Ivan!” I angrily retorted. “You heard Sebestyen! I have none! This is no simple advice; this is a Prophecy! Somehow, for reasons I am unaware of, my death will protect of Severus and our daughter. Who would I be to deny them the right to live?”

“I…” he began, lost for words, and remaining so for a while. “Will you let me ask Valerica for help, at the very least?”

“Valerica is a wise elder, Ivantie. I believe she will share Sebestyen’s advice, but… you can try and figure out something if you want,” I added, seeing a myriad of protestations rising in his eyes again. “Nevertheless, you made my Sire the solemn promise that you would respect my wishes. You will have to let me go through with this if it is my choice, are we clear on that?”

“Yes, we are clear on that,” he finally said after a long pause, very reluctantly.

“Thank you…”

We walked back to the castle and parted in silence, our argument having created an unfortunate distance between us. I strolled around the lake for an hour before I summoned enough courage to face Severus with fully raised mental barriers. I told him that I had only witnessed wonderful visions about our daughter’s future before I retreated to the peaceful silence of our bedroom while he kept working in our office.

My first reaction was a complete shock, and that apparent numbness lasted for a while, allowing me to keep a much-needed control over myself despite my inner turmoil, especially when I was around Severus that evening. You probably are as shocked as I was, my dearest reader…. The calculation was simple; my birthday being only five nights later, I was still two hundred and eighty-three years old. Five hundred and sixty-six hours… twenty-three nights and fourteen miserable hours to live, and I was to be no more!

Astonishment, terror, rage, sadness, dread, bitterness, resolution, atonement, despair… no single word could describe how I felt during the first few hours of that sinister countdown, for all those emotions performed a wild, ruthless, tribal dance within my heart that would just never stop! Night and day I tried to put some order into that chaos, but it was useless.

During those painful times, I thought that I had been right to fear Death when I was a human witch. “Death is such an absurd thing!” I told myself. “My death will be such an absurd thing!” Indeed, what person in possession of a sane mind could understand how a mother can be torn apart from her unborn child? Apart from a wizard she loves dearly, who can give her the world in one kiss? And all that in the name of revenge!

The more I tried to control myself as the nights passed, however, the more I failed, and Severus started to worry. I refused to speak and tell him what was going on until about three nights later, when he cornered me in our bedroom and questioned me relentlessly until I finally broke down in tears and nearly collapsed into his arms. I cried so much that I thought my tears would never stop flowing until those… what… somewhat four hundred and ninety-four hours that remained would come to an end.

It was still a long time to wait.

Seeing my distress, Severus rocked me patiently in his arms until I calmed down, but I still refused to tell him what was wrong, and I blamed it on my incapacity to see clearly through my emotions, which was not really a lie. Nevertheless, I had still been able to see through that mess clearly enough to decide for sure that I would not tell him about the Prophecy. It was obvious that he would have made an attempt to prevent the Prophecy from happening, probably even more stubbornly than Ivantie would, and it might just have been what would have endangered his life and that of our daughter. When given that choice… knowing what I had to do became far more obvious.

Severus gave me advice that changed everything for me, fortunately. Looking at me with his fathomless eyes, he told me that writing had often helped him see through complicated matters in the past. He suggested that I write about what was causing me so much distress, in hopes it would structure my thoughts and emotions better, sort them into different categories, maybe, which would make them clearer.

His counsel was no less than a revelation. Not only did I follow it and write about my current situation; I wrote its story from the very beginning… which took place during a breathtaking sunset in mid-July 1996, high in the Carpathian Mountains I shall never see again.

I knew my tale would be a long one, so I fumbled through many books in the school’s library and finally found a list of spells that would allow me to control the quill at a distance and make it write almost at the speed of my thoughts. I was so eager to tell all the details that were dear to my heart… all the details, big and small, that had made so much difference, that had changed so many things, for the better or not. I did not want to be limited by the slowness of my fingers, for my mind was in complete turmoil!

That endeavour had the marvellous advantage of keeping me busy almost night and day. I stopped teaching shortly after what Severus interpreted as a momentary nervous breakdown; there were technically a little more than four weeks left before my delivery at the time. It gave me the chance to devote all my free time to the writing of that part of my afterlife.

Severus saw with relief that I became much calmer after I followed his suggestion. The minute he was done with his work, I insisted that we do the things we loved the most, the things we did together when we wanted to spend quality time together. I enjoyed each and every minute of that special time we spent, he and I, and successfully put my dreadful thoughts aside during those moments, waiting until my moments of solitude to let them invade my mind again.

Each evening, I lay next to my lover in his bed or my coffin until he fell asleep. I got up shortly after and assiduously resumed my writing, for I was not really disposed for sleep. When Severus occasionally caught me still up and writing in late morning, I blamed it on the typical discomfort of my condition. He must have made me drink litres of Pain-control potion uselessly, but at least it kept his suspicions and worries far away.

A question soon arose, however, and I struggled for a while before I found an answer. I first thought I was simply writing that long tale for myself, but as the fatidic date approached, I found myself wondering about what would happen with that thick book after my death. I first thought of giving it to Severus, but then I immediately thought that I wanted our daughter to read it, too!

That posed a big problem. The things our daughter could read about, given the amount of detail in which I related certain episodes of my relationship with Severus (or other people) were not suitable for her. The same went with the parts in which I spoke about certain battles, certain quarrels…. She would eventually grow up and gain enough maturity over the next decades, maybe the next centuries, to be able to appreciate the whole content of that book, but I needed a way to control what parts would be revealed to her and when. The same went for Severus; some episodes related in this book might shock or irritate him. There are some things he might prefer never to read about, but though I believe I know him very well, I cannot know which ones for sure.

Again, he is the one who gave me the answer I was looking for. One evening, I saw my poetry book on his night dresser, where it was carefully placed each night. In a flash, I thought about the ritual we used during poetry recitals to pick a proper poem, according to one’s emotions and state of mind. Once Severus fell asleep next to me, I discreetly sneaked out of the bedroom and Flooed directly to Vlad in Zaharia’s library, where for sure he was sitting already. With his help, I was able to bewitch my book and have it magically erase the parts that would not be suitable for a given reader to see, depending on the reader’s age, emotions, relationship with me or simply depending on my own will to have that person read those parts or not. All a given reader has to do is let a small drop of his or her blood fall on the cover, just like we do during poetry recitals.

That stratagem made my project even more entrancing. Not only am I writing for myself, I am also writing for the man I love, our daughter, and all those who know me and might wish to relive parts of our story, as seen through my eyes, after I am gone.

Non-existence… the terrible fear that made me chose to become a cainite… its antagonist was slowly but steadily taking form between my hands… and it brought me an incommensurable relief and serenity, despite the sinister fate that will get to me sooner or later. My love… your advice was one of the cleverest you ever gave me. Thank you, so very much!

But I have to hurry a little more, now. You just kissed me good night and left for the bedroom; it is already late in the evening. I still have a few more important things to write about before I join you.

Depending on who you are, my dearest reader, you might be wondering about what happened with the Death Eaters’ meetings during that period. As if by chance, the Dark Lord ordered us to brew particularly big quantities of potions for selling purposes. He even had the genius of blaming it on the arrival of the cainite armies, which needed to be comfortably installed, fed, and so on. That certainly kept Severus busy (he refused to have me work around cauldrons by that time) and explained, in appearance, why we got summoned to meetings less and less often. Voldemort even gave the appearance of an interest and a close watch, summoning Severus for semi-private encounters with the oldest followers only once every week. I intensely trembled for his life during those few hours when he was gone, but just as the Prophecy suggested, he always came back unharmed… and not at all suspicious that the Dark Lord and his followers knew of our betrayal.

From what Severus told me, they all played their role pretty well, giving him information about upcoming attacks, robberies or other misdemeanours as if he still had their complete trust. The resulting failures of the very few Order raids that ensued (we could not always send Aurors without raising any doubts, understandably) made plenty of sense to me… and I blamed myself for not seeing those warning signs before. Indeed, a closer observation of some of the Order’s missions in March made me notice that most of the successful captures that had been accomplished with Severus’ help put only very young and inexperienced Death Eaters in Azkaban, never one of Macnair or Malfoy’s calibre like before. Those signs were very subtle, as Voldemort was probably used to those kinds of deceitful conspiracies, and I must admit that his followers all worked remarkably well to provide a believable set up, most unfortunately.

On the other hand, as you can imagine, Ivantie did not remain inactive at all during that period. He ran directly to Valerica after our encounter with my Sire and told her the entire story. Valerica reacted just as I had expected, and joined Sebestyen’s advice. She tried, just as I did, to convince Ivantie that it was better to let things happen the way they were meant to, but it was a particularly difficult task. Severus asked me many times, after our brief but pleasant encounters with them after the Order’s meetings, why Ivantie seemed to be in such a dreadful mood, but I falsely interpreted it to him as the normal worries of a Lord in the midst of war.

Valerica made a wonderful gesture, though, a week before the fatidic date. She organized a sumptuous but rather intimate dinner with my closest friends. Ivantie, Cami (accompanied by Remus, who was practically never seen without her since the Holidays), Vasile, Iulian, Marcela and Niculaie were all there, to my delight. Most of them believed they were attending a celebration of my last nights of pregnancy, for only Ivantie, Valerica and Cami knew of the Prophecy. They had the decorum of looking as if they thoroughly enjoyed themselves like the others throughout the entire meal and short soirée that followed, just as I did.

Before we left, Valerica accompanied me to her resting room, taking advantage of the never-ending tale Vasile was animatedly sharing with Severus and Iulian in the living room. A very worried Cami and Remus were waiting for me there, along with Ivantie, of course.

“Before you leave, there is something I wanted you to know, my dear,” began Valerica, after she made me sit on a comfortable chair. “Two nights ago, Severus sent me an owl… he asked me to become his Sire after your daughter is born.”

“Really?” I exclaimed, smiling with excitement and surprise at that unexpected news. “Why was he asking you now?”

“For one thing, he wants to wait until the baby is born, because we are not sure how such a brutal change in his blood would affect her during your pregnancy. And… I guess he wanted to give you a surprise. When he Flooed me to follow up on his letter, he told me about your last encounter with a Boggart. Apparently, it was a strong argument that convinced him to go ahead and make the request. He said he does not want you to stand powerless with him as he gets old and falls into decline like Arnaud.”

“The sweet, sweet soul,” I said, closing my eyes and smiling wider. “What was your answer?”

“I accepted, of course,” Valerica replied, smiling as well, though more sadly. “It was obvious when he talked to me that he had developed a better taste for life. And I think he has you to thank for it, my love. I am still willing to do it, if that is his wish after... the baby is born.”

“Thank you, my friend,” I said, rising to my feet and holding her in a tight embrace. “That would be a wonderful gesture and I am sure he would benefit a lot from your knowledge and tutoring during his first decades as a cainite. Can I make a request as well?”

“Of course! Anything,” she said, with a voice that was slightly more raucous.

“I have no doubt that Severus will be a responsible and loving father, but he will need help. And he will need comforting arms and patient ears, at the beginning…” I began, before I turned to the other people in the room. “Can you promise me to look after him and the baby after I am gone? He will probably not ask for your help, but he will come to accept it if it is patiently and repeatedly offered.”

Valerica, Cami and Remus assured me that they would give any needed assistance, but Ivantie merely huffed in exasperation.

“I refuse to believe that you will pass away, Tasia,” he angrily said, in answer to my questioning glance.

“Ivantie…” said Cami softly, but surprisingly firmly. “We have already discussed this… please do not make things more difficult than they already are!”

Ivantie merely shrugged his shoulders. I walked to him and eagerly pressed him against my chest, feeling his tense muscles relax at my consoling touch.

“Ivan, my dearest Ivan, my gracious gift!” I murmured in his ear. “Never lose your fierceness, your passion… and your stubbornness! They have given me strength in the darkest moments… and they keep doing so!”

“I think we should go back in the living room,” said Valerica shortly after Ivantie half-heartedly broke our embrace. “Severus will wonder what we are doing here.”

One by one, I held them in my arms, trying to imprint the feel of their wonderful friendship and love in my memory in order to carry it with me through the rest of my difficult journey. None of them cried, though all their eyes expressed a mix of worry, pain and sorrow. I was immensely grateful to them for helping me keep my composure, and I think they all understood it… except Ivantie, who angrily walked through our small group and pushed the door open. When we followed, he was making his way out through the front door, leaving many puzzled glances behind him.

Up to this night, in almost all cases, I never saw those dear friends again.

~*~

Three nights ago, as I looked at Severus removing his teaching robes after what had been a very long evening of giving remedial Potions lessons and grading a few assignments, I saw him take my poetry book out of the inner pocket of his coat. An idea struck me, all of a sudden.

“Severus, do you remember which poem our mixed blood chose, long ago?”

“Of course, how could I forget!” he replied with a little smile. “It was--”

“No, do not tell me!” I quickly interrupted, my tone a bit more panicky than intended. “Would you mind reliving the experience with me?”

“Tonight?” he asked, looking a little puzzled.

“Yes… I just want to see if our mixed blood would choose the same poem once more.”

“If you want to… here, give me your hand.”

Severus took out his pocket knife and made a tiny incision on one of his fingertips before he repeated the operation with me. He delicately shook the blade over the book cover and let the drop of our mixed blood operate its magic. Opening the book, he acknowledged the title of the chosen poem and raised an eyebrow.

“So? Is it the same?”

“Yes… it chose ‘One Wish Alone Have I’ by Mihai Eminescu.”

“Of course…” I thoughtfully whispered, taking my eyes away from him and turning them towards the dancing flames. “It makes plenty of sense…”

“Sorry, what did you just say? I did not hear you,” said Severus, sitting in front of me.

“Oh, I was just talking to myself. Would you mind… reading it to me, my love?” I asked, trying to conceal the tightness of my throat with a gentle smile.

“Certainly…”

Sitting more comfortably, Severus read the magnificent and familiar poem in a grave and deep voice that rang with a definite tenderness. I listened with all my might, letting each word reach my heart and soul, which knew the verses very well already. Nevertheless, I let them be preciously engraved in my very core, so from now on they would take the colour of his voice, his feelings, and his personality…. Here, let me copy those verses for you. If one night you ask him to read them to you, I am sure you will feel their resonance as much as I did that night.
One wish alone have I:
In some calm land
Beside the sea to die;
Upon its strand
That I forever sleep,
The forest near,
A heaven near,
Stretched over the peaceful deep.
No candles shine,
Nor tomb I need, instead
Let them for me be a bed
Of twigs entwine.

That no one weeps my end,
Nor for me grieves,
But let the autumn lend
Tongues to the leaves,
When brooklet ripples fall
With murmuring sound,
And moon is found
Among the pine-trees tall,
While softly rings
The wind its trembling chime
And over me the lime
Its blossom flings.

As I will then no more
A wanderer be,
Let them with fondness store
My memory.
And Lucifer the while,
Above the pine,
Good comrade of mine,
Will on me gently smile;
In mournful mood,
The sea sings sad refrain…
And I be earth again
In solitude.

“My darling… are you crying?” Severus asked after he finished reading, putting the book on the armrest and reaching for my hand.

“Oh, do not worry,” I replied, letting the warm and fluid wordless evidence of my pain flow freely down my cheeks. “That particular poem has always touched me in a very special way. I am not surprised our blood chose it again tonight. You know, Severus…” I continued, once my sobs subsided and let me speak in a steadier voice, “that is the ode I would like to be read at my burial.”

“How very natural, then, that our mixed blood chose that particular poem,” he replied, “for I thought the very same thing when I read it, back in Romania.”

“So can you promise me that you will grant me my wish if something happens to me?”

“Nothing will happen to you as long as I live,” he firmly said, taking both my hands in his and plunging his determined dark eyes in mine.

“You know you cannot promise me that, my love…” I softly argued, feeling renewed tears filling my eyes. “But you can promise me that your beloved voice would caress my grave if it is buried in the Goddess mother’s bosom. So please… this is so important to me… would you do it?”

“Yes,” he gravely said, feeling the seriousness in my voice. “And I guess you can promise me the same?”

“I...” I hesitated. “Yes, of course.”

Oh, my love... do not forget your promise when the time comes! If you knew the relief it brought me!

Yesterday, you made me cry again as we quietly chatted, curled up against each other in my coffin before you fell asleep. You talked about next summer and made plans for us, for the baby. You told me about that little village you heard of in Provence, and how we would spend the holidays there… once the war would finally be over. I cried, then, knowing that I would never be there to witness those nights, and you have mistaken my tears for joy, my love. I hold no hard feelings against you for that human and understandable mistake, you know… and I prefer things that way anyway. Indeed, if I cried with sorrow then, I am crying with joy now. This was one of your final gifts to me, Severus. The fact that you dreamed about a future for us, the fact that it did not only become possible in your mind but something you actually longed for… I will keep that gift with me until the end, beloved.

After you were fast asleep, however, I slowly stepped out of my coffin and tiptoed to our office. There, I wrapped myself in my cloak and I sneaked out of the castle, eager for a walk in the Forbidden Forest. I know… you will not like reading about the danger I put myself into that night, but for one thing, I knew that my afterlife would not end that way… and I desperately needed the feel of nature.

I barely made it past Hagrid’s hut when I heard muffled footsteps behind me on the damp soil. Turning back, I saw my dearest friend Ivantie, as tall, sturdy and handsome as ever, despite the expression of concern, regret and sorrow on his face that glowed in the moonlight . Extending an arm, he invited me to keep going as he reached my side and pressed his large hand on my waist. How many nights he waited until I would take that last stroll in the forest, I cannot tell, but I was transported with joy and gratefulness when I felt his warm and comforting touch, his familiar presence at my side.

We exchanged no words. There is not much to say when the two oldest friends of the world are preparing to say goodbye and part for a never-ending time. We simply walked among the trees like we did on countless occasions in the past, until our feet took us back to the school grounds, next to the immense lake that was then completely unfrozen and glimmered beautifully next to us.

Ivantie brought me to him until my belly rested against his waist. Everything seemed to still around us: even the baby kept sleeping as if the long stroll had rocked her to a deep sleep that could not possibly be disturbed. He first took my shoulders and caressed them slowly, his hazelnut eyes fumbling the most profound parts of my soul; they were known territory to him for such a long time…

“Somehow, the winds that blow through the Carpathians at sunset will always murmur your name to me, Kochanna,” he softly said, as his hands moved from my shoulders to cup my face tenderly.

I did not reply anything; he did not need me telling him how sincerely I wished the same. Bringing my face to his, he trapped my lips in a long kiss that had the salty taste of the few discreet tears we both shed and all the bittersweet feel of the most precious moments that vibrated in both our memories.

“I love you,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, his eyes still intensely fixed in mine.

“I love you, too,” I replied, stroking his gorgeous face with both my hands.

He Transfigured shortly after and I looked at him for as long as I could as he flew away from the castle. I prayed the Goddess Mother with all my heart and will for her to give him her blessing and her protection so he would keep on with his afterlife, taste and give happiness like he has always done in the past.

As I walked back to the dungeons, I strongly clung to the satisfaction and relief I felt about the way we parted. There were to be no goodbyes between us, ever. Only genuine and simple words of love.

~*~

Tonight, before I finished writing this long tale, I went outside on the top of the Astronomy tower. I was lucky; there was not the smallest trace of a cloud in the sky tonight, and I was able to observe the stars at will. Oh, I have always cherished their sight, but seeing them tonight filled me with sadness. All the cruel and unfair aspects of my situation came back to me like an enormous wave crashing on the shore. How could it be the last time I saw them? How pitiless of my Sire to let me know about my death so long in advance!

I broke down in tears and cried without any restraint this time. It did not remove the burden off my shoulders, but it felt somewhat relieving because I knew nobody would find me there… I would not be disturbed and could feel sorry for myself as long as I wanted. And yet someone intervened and made me stop crying at once. You, my little one… you gave me a timid kick from within. It was not comparable to the usual turmoil you could create when you had more room, but it was noticeable enough to drive all my attention to you. When I ran a caring hand over my belly, I clearly felt your little foot, the already forgiven culprit of the small pain you had caused.

Thank you, my little treasure, for telling me not to lower my arms and give up the fight before it began. The thought that your father and you will be safe is what makes me endure this sacrifice with my head up high; your little kick reminded me that I still have to do it with a wand in my hand and the unbreakable will of a lover and a mother in my heart. Wiping off my tears-stained face, I swore to myself that those last hours that remained before the Crone sets her eyes on me would be peaceful and happy ones, filled with love and tenderness.

I have not come all this way, through many centuries, to end my afterlife crying over my fate.

Promise me you will be good, my precious daughter; I know you will. Listen to your father, for he is a man of great sense and intelligence, even if he does not always say things the right way and can be very demanding at times. He is a good man, deep inside; never forget it. His greatness and uniqueness is spread all over these pages, if ever you need any proof… and his heart is as vast as the valleys of Transylvania, my dearest… only well-guarded. Just give him your forgiveness and sweetness, and you will surely get the same in return, for his capacity to love and soothe is very powerful.

Also remember that you are not alone, my sweet child. Through me, you are a part of the Zaharia Clan; the cainites who form it are your family… a family that will remain at your side through the centuries. In addition, I am sure you will learn to feel me resonate inside you with the passing years, for I am a part of you that you can always turn to for guidance, comfort, and love. Even after I die, tomorrow, that will survive. Please know that you were deeply wanted, my beautiful treasure, and that I loved you with every fibre of my being, as long as I possibly could. I am deeply sorry I could not be there for you after you were born… but I know that people I trust will take care of you and give you every chance to feel loved and happy.

And here I am now, Severus… I came back from the Astronomy tower two long hours ago, wrote my will and finished my story at last. My part of the tale, anyway. It will be up to you and our daughter to keep writing it with a story of your own. Whatever happens tomorrow, my beloved, I know it will be for the better for you both. If it can bring you any comfort, tell yourself that I embraced my fate the best I could and, though it will be difficult for you to forgive my silence towards you at first, I do hope you will come to understand my reasons with time and forgive me.

And now I will go find you in your bed and wake you up with my most tender kisses. You will protest and groan a bit, as usual, but I will quiet you with a few more. I will make love to you with all the forces I have left in me and believe me my beloved, there are many left. I will make love to you, Severus, until my name becomes a supplication in your manly mouth, until it becomes a long victorious cry of gratefulness.... Until we both believe ourselves dead and then, I will make love to you again. I will get intoxicated with each of your sighs and moans, with all the textures that can be explored and touched on your skin, with its wonderful smell, with every nuance of the thousands of shades your eyes go through when you take me and look into my eyes. I will get drunk with you, Severus, and stay drunk all night long by watching over your sleep one last time, until morning sneaks into our bedroom like a thief and takes you away from me.

Left alone in our chamber, I will patiently wait for death to come knocking at my door and the minute it shows up, it will find the most determined cainite it has ever encountered, for I will fight for my afterlife the best and longest I can until my strength abandons me. I promise I will do everything I can to stay strong, my love, thinking of your presence in my heart, in my womb, thinking of this day as our daughter’s birthday instead of thinking...

Severus, promise me you will be strong, too. I will need you to be strong then, because I may not have the courage I still have now. I have faith in you, my love; you will free me from my curse. What I told you long ago, on the top of that hill, will come true. Your hands that I adore will fulfill their fate and bring me soothing and deliverance at last!

I do not know how, but I do want to believe that my soul will be waiting for you somewhere. In the meantime, remember that nothing is completely lost in this world; it merely changes and evolves... just keep your senses alert and your heart wide open and you will find me, always. And remember, more than anything, that I will forcefully and proudly keep loving you and our little one until the end... it will make me die happy and extremely grateful for the afterlife I have shared with you.

I began this long tale saying that I have always loved to look at the sun… you showed me how to find it even in the darkest places… like in the depths of your fascinating eyes.

Until next time we meet, Severus... take care...

Antanasia of Zaharia, born Deirdre Sheridan...

Reborn Deirdre Snape.

~*~

AUTHOR’S NOTES

As always, thanks for your patience! And remember... reviewing will not hurt you, I promise! Why don\'t you give it a try? ;o)

Oh, and... please note that there is no \"The end\" anywhere... *wink*