Sub Rosa

Kate - Happy ending? You will have to wait and see. (Insert Evil cackle here)

tamargrl - Thank you for your kind words, they warm my heart as I type in my unheated house, freezing. I find that the best stories often take me past where I think I am comfortable. Severus was in charge of those scenes, not me and I, as an author, have a responsibility to the characters as well as the audience. Honestly, I had thought the scene would be totally different, but he had other ideas. Are you going to argue with Snape when he gets snarky? Didn\'t think so. :)

Lady Aidil - You are just the sweetest, nicest person and your reviews always make me feel wonderful. I had so many fears about writing this story, when there are a gazillion with similar premises on the net right now. I am glad you think mine is good.

A/N - I have a stack of illustrations for this story that I have done, since I am an illustrator by trade, but I haven\'t a clueas to where to post them, so if you are interested in them I will email mini-tiffs of them to anyone who wants them. Just e-mail me at mncoy@earthlink.net and I\'ll send them along. I particularly like my portrait of Minuet.


Chapter 35 – December Snows

Kathryn was standing by the lake, staring out at the frozen surface. He crunched through the snow towards her, his breath frosting the air before him. She was as still as a statue, her gray winter cloak shrouding her figure. Her hair was pulling free of her habitual bun, small chocolate tendrils tugged by the breeze.

“We will be trying the modified summoning tonight.” She reached out her hand and he took it into his own.

“The translation is complete?” His words puffed out as smoke and drifted away.

“I decided to keep the original text intact and read it out that way. The translation was important though, I understand where they went wrong.” She turned to him, those warm brown eyes making his heart sing.

As time passed and May drew closer he found his heart growing more desperate for every snatched moment, every quiet evening. Five months and counting he thought to himself. Five months and she was gone.

“Sickle for your thoughts?” She ran a hand along his check, the gray mittens catching a little on the light
stubble of his chin.

“I love you.” It was a quiet declaration and one he didn’t make often. She merely nodded, in tune with his thoughts.

“The Junior Auror Corps will assemble in the Room of Requirement tonight and redo the ritual.” He snorted at her nickname for Potter and his gang of ruffians and misfits.

“Minerva knows about this?”

“She will be blissfully ignorant and completely unaware that anyone is out of bed.” Kathryn smiled and Severus was glad that his two favorite women got along so well.

“You will be careful. While I wouldn’t mind if Potter were to meet a messy end, you are indispensable.” She rolled her eyes at him, what she saw in that Potter boy he didn’t know. Strangely, she was fond of him and got annoyed when he got snarky on the subject.

“He is a teenager, but other than that he’s not a bad kid. Someday you are going to have to let go of this, you know.” Her voice had traces of exasperation and he didn’t want to start this argument again. He used the simplest means at his disposal to silence her. He kissed her.

Her lips, icy at first, warmed beneath his and the soft moan that escaped her mouth as he pulled her against him made the cold vanish completely. He wondered if there would ever be a time when he would take her love for granted. As it was, each time she smiled at him he felt humbled. That someone, anyone, could look at him with such warmth in their eyes as she did, continually surprised him. That is was someone like Kathryn, bright, funny, sweet and dangerous, was almost more than he could believe. Yet, she proved to him again and again that he could have faith in this feeling. It was a miracle and he had long since accustomed himself to a life without such things.

“Sev, we should go in before we freeze.” He h the the nickname and yet from her mouth it was a loving sound that made the hurt inner child in him wriggle in pleasure.

“I wish I had known you when I was sixteen.” He tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear with infinite tenderness. She grinned at him with sparkling eyes.

“I was skinny and too tall with huge glasses. I was painfully shy and would have ducked behind the nearest bookshelf if you had even spoken to me.” She was laughing at her younger self, but it was a gentle mockery, with sympathy for a girl too smart to relate to her peers.

“I was much as I am now, but smaller and weaker. I would have mocked your height and your glasses and said something cutting about your shyness, all the while thinking you quite pretty.” He dispatched his younger self with ruthless honesty. “I needed someone like you back then even more than I need you now.”

“We wouldn’t have known what to do with each other, Sev.” She shook her head sadly. “It took years of being in the thick of it for me to gain enough confidence to even talk to a boy, let alone kiss him.”

“I had killed a man before I kissedomanoman.” He admitted and she simply caressed his face in acknowledgement and understanding.

“I am really cold, love.” Her soft voice brought him back to the present and he noticed her lips were turning blue. He warmed them with his own once more and then led her back to the castle.

That evening, Kathryn sat on the window ledge with her wand, gun and the hex-breaking knife that Grand-mére had sent her. The Room was now a Ritual Room, complete with candle sconces, inscribed circle and books on magic on the shelves. The kids, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Dean, Parvati, Lavender, Seamus, Justin and Minuet were each engrossed in preparations for the ritual.

Hermione was sitting curled up against Ron, her head tucked under his chin, his arm around her waist as she re-read the summoning once more, making sure she had memorized every syllable. He was murmuring reassurances to her as she read.

Neville and Ginny were preparing the tools of the ritual with many glances and touches exchanged as they worked. Ginny’s eyes sparkled up at the young man beside her and Kathryn could see his father’s quiet courage and his mother’s stubborn strength in him. She was watching them with the memories of his parents partly obscuring her vision, nostalgia blurring her eyes with remembered friendship.

“Professor?” Harry’s voice drew her back to the present. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Mr. Potter?” His eyes were bright and filled with speculation. He glanced at Ginny and Neville and then gave her a look of enquiry. “Just thinking about his parents.” She answered. “They were truly fine people and good friends.” He nodded, understanding.

Parvati and Dean were lighting the candles in the sconces, Dean hovering rather protectively over her. Kathryn would have felt smothered by the attention, but Parvati seemed reassured and smiled up at him often.

Lavender and Seamus seemed to have a far more relaxed relationship, more friendship and support than romance, but it was hard to tell. They were setting up a small cauldron to hold the burning Myrrh that the scroll had called for. Lavender poked him with a sharp finger, in response to something he whispered in her ear, and he chuckled at her.

Luna was sitting alone in the center of the circle, eyes unfocused, arranging a small pile of stones to be used to represent the elemental.

Justin and Minuet were casting extra wards around the room, should the circle fail, they didn’t want to bring down the school.

“Is Parvati still dreaming about the Guardian?” Kathryn asked the tall slender boy beside her.

“No.” Harry replied. “She had one last dream where the Guardian apologized for the harm that came to her and withdrew her connection.” Harry looked down at his feet. “She seemed really sad and lonely.”

“The path to the crypt is closed now, but I have no doubts that if you were to speak in thapehapel, that the Guardian would hear.” Kathryn wondered if she was wise to mention this to him, but the light that filled his eyes silenced her twinge of nerves.

“Then I could keep her company!” He had such a radiant smile, if Severus could only see the boy in an unguarded moment, he would loose much of his antipathy, she knew.

“The elder Fey are a strange and alien race, there are few who can say that they have come away from an encounter with them unchanged.” She was speaking more for herself than him, but he listened with intensity.

“She called you child of the half-blood, what does that mean?” His quick mind was occasionally a burden upon his elders and Kathryn sighed.

“The Majere line descends from Morgan, the middle sister of the four children of Yvgraine. Morgan was half-sister to Arturus, sister to Morghanna, the youngest sister and Morgaine, the eldest. Yvgraine was full-blooded Fey, an elder who had fallen in love with a mortal man. The three daughters were by her husband, the fourth child, Arturus, was gotten by the trickery of the Pendragon line.” As she spoke, the children gathered around her, captivated by the tale.

“I thought Merlin arranged that.” Ron interjected, his arm still around Hermione.

“No, Merlin knew better than to meddle with the Elder Fey. It was Uther alone who sought to have what was not rightfully his. Uther slew Yvgraine’s husband and took his armor and seeming.” She was looking off into the past, remembering a voice from her childhood telling her tales. “When the child was born, Yvgraine went out with sword in hand and slew Uther, spilling his blood on the stones. She then took her own life in grief for her betrayal of her love.

“Morgan, who was ten at the time, took her brother away from the castle, for her Father’s brother wanted to kill him. She loved her brother and wanted to keep him from harm. She took him to her mother’s people, but they called him kin slayer and named him cursed and would not have him. She took him to his father’s people, but they said he was child of demons and the cause of his father’s murder and turned him away as well.” The children were staring at her in wide-eyed wonder.

“Finally, she was found by Merlin, who took both children in and cared for them. Morgan’s sisters hated her for what they saw as her betrayal of their father. They despised Arturus for a bastard born of deceit, they tried many times to cast dark magic against the child, but Merlin, young though he was, had great strength and shielded him. Merlin took the child away and hid him and Morgan fled to the Isle of Avalon to hide from her sisters.”

“When Morgan had grown she returned to her father’s lands and sought out her brother. He was hidden so well though that she never found him till Merlin brought him to be King.” They were mesmerized by her tale, so similar and yet so different from the history they had learned.

“In the meantime, Morgan had fallen in love with a young warrior, wed him and bore him a child. During the wars that followed, as her brother united Britain, her beloved was slain in battle. Morgan, widowed and grieving came to Camelot to live, with her son Modred.”

“I thought Modred was Arthur’s son?” Dean was raising his hand, as if they were in class and Kathryn grinned at him.

“No, in those days, the sister’s son inherited, which is where the confusion comes in.” They nodded and she returned to the tale. “Modred wed and bore a son before his death, where he slew his Uncle and was slain in return, thus carrying out the doom foretold by the Fey.”

“Morgan took her grandson away from the wars and chaos that followed and grieving for brother, son and husband, she raised him in France and shielded both him and his mother from the vengeance of Arturus’ warriors. The lines of Majere and Leblanc are descended from her, the last crossing of the two races of Fey and Man.”

“The last crossing, so there were others?” Harry asked.

“Yes, all wizards and witches are descended from crossings between elders and humankind, be they the fey or the Nephilim, or the dragon kind or others whose names are lost to us.”

“I’ve never heard that before.” Hermione gave her a dubious look.

“This was all long before history was written, so long ago that only the elders remember it.” Luna looked at her sharply, her eyes coming into focus with laser accuracy.

“So who told you?” She asked, all the fuzziness gone from her tone.

“My ancestress, Morgan, she told me at my Tenth Year Ceremony, as she has done with every girl child born of her line for a thousand years.” The stared at her in a mixture of awe, shock and disbelief. She merely smiled at them.

“That’s what Gabriel was talking about in New Orleans. About it being tenth year for some girl and the family was gathering” Here boe bounced in Ron’s embrace, illumination bursting over her. Kathryn nodded and tcontcontinued briskly.

“Now, I believe we have a ritual to perform, if I am not mistaken.” Kathryn waved them about their tasks.

Ten minutes later they were all in place. Hermione was chanting the words that would seal the circle and the others stood grasping each other’s hands in a loose ring around her. Kathryn stood back, separate from the kids, her knife in one hand, her wand in the other, prepared to step in if necessary, but content to let Hermione run the show till then.

Hermione chanted the summoning, arms held out, wand grasped lightly in her right hand. The ring of her friends watched her with calm eyes.

Kathryn was impressed, for a sixteen year old girl, she was poised and confident, her voice rang out with assurance and her casting was clean. Kathryn’s eyes followed the paths traced by the girl, as her wand flashed in complex patterns, leaving trails of light behind to form the sigil of the Earth.

The earth rumbled, but it was a softer sound than the quakes that had rocked them before. The pile of rocks, Luna had so carefully ared bed began to shift and stir. They rose and began to dance in the air moving together to take the shape of a crude human figure.

“Witch child.” A voice with the sound of rock scraping against rock whispered through the room. “Witch child beware.” The figure, stones flowing from place to place like some crude stop-motion film, moved to face Hermione, where she continued to speak the words of the spell. “Witch child, Dark comes to eat you, Dark comes to break the ss yos you stand upon.”

Hermione finished the spell and with the mov movement of her wand the rocks flowed together to form a shape, a young man made of gray stone with agate eyes stood, crudely carved and roughly made.

“How do we stop the Dark?” Hermione asked the shape.

“There is no stopping the Dark, Witch child. But this thing that digs at the stones and puts its fingers into the mountains, this thing can be killed.” The voice was thick and heavy with age. The agate eyes drifted over the ring of children, the weight of his gaze almost suffocating.

“How do we stop it from digging at the stones? How de we kill it?” Hermione was trembling with the effort of the magic required to hold the elemental. Her words were cracked and weary.

“The Dark has sent a foe to you and that foe has sent an army of diggers into the mountain, they tear at the roots of the stone, they are ripping out my heart.” The voice was plaintive. “I cannot flee for I am bound here to serve and guard. You must go into the mountain’s heart and slay the diggers with sword and fire.”

Hermione could hold on no more, Her trembling was becoming a violent shaking and she looked to Kathryn to see if they had learned enough. Kathryn nodded at her to release the elemental and end the Ritual.

With a weary release of breath, Hermione chanted the last passage of the spell and the form became just a pile of rocks again, that tumbled to the ground with a clatter. Hermione tipped forwards and Ron caught her as she fell, lowering her gently to the ground.

Kathryn stepped up beside her and checked her with a quick swipe of her wand.

“Will she be all right?” Ron cradled the girl against him protectively.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley, she is exhausted, but unharmed.”

“What did it mean by diggers?” Seamus asked from beside Kathryn’s elbow.

“Kobolds, Mr. Finnegan, Voldemort has set kobolds free in the hills around Hogwarts.” The children turned fearful glances to her and pale faces. Kathryn was unaware of their concern though, for she was already formulating a plan.