Of Death and Fire

wounds


Author's notes: Apologies for the very late update. At first, I was waiting for OotP to come out. Then my finals came and after that I was involved in a cat related accident that resulted to several stitches and the loss of use of my left hand; the one I type with. Anyway, now it's back and complete (finally).
A few quick replies: What happens with Morgaine's son will probably be a sub plot of a sequel. The previous chapter was intentionahumohumorous at certain parts. I'm a sucker for black humor...
As for Morgaine's soul being the amalgam of Death and Fire, it was never stated openly in the story, just implied.
Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed.
 
 
CHAPTER 41: Some wounds run deep.
 
Albus Dumbledore tried to keep up with Snape's fast strides. But even with the added weight of the unconscious woman in his arms, the Potions Master was faster than he was. To his suggestion that the hospital wing might be a better choice Snape replied with a growl and continued toward his dungeon. He gently placed Morgaine's limp body on the bed and finally collapsed on the couch, fatigue evident on his pale features. And the Headmaster knew not which of the two was in a worse state; Morgaine who was moaning by pain every time someone touched her or Severus who looked as if he had walked through hell.
Madame Pomfrey approached the bed and began to check on Morgaine. Passing a clear crystal over the bloodied body, she frowned occasionally but didn't speak a word. Albus sat beside Snape who had his eyes fixed on the motionless body on his bed, as if there was no one else in the room beside her.
"Severus," he gently asked, "what happened?"
He stared back at him with dark, empty eyes. "I killed her," he said simply. "The Dark Lord ordered me to kill her, and I did." And his voice was this of a man aware that he would never know joy again.
Dumbledore remained silent for a while, in search of the right words. He could find none, but he felt he had to say something and comfort this man who had almost lost everything in his service.
"She's back now, my boy. Somehow, she's back." But he suspected that returning from the dead must have cost her greatly. And when Snape turned and looked at him, he saw in the pits that were his eyes that he knew it too.
"Yes," he said in a grave voice. "She's back. To Lord Voldemort, she's dead. And this makes her the perfect weapon, doesn't it, Albus?" He sneered and sunk deeper in the couch, struggling to control his raging emotions.
Albus felt the accusation in his voice and the sting of guilt, for he had thought exactly the same thing. If the Dark Lord considered Morgaine dead, he would have never expected her to confront him. With her skills and talents, she would make a powerful asset in the coming war. But first, she should heal and rest. They all should.
"There is a time for war and there is a time for respite and healing, Severus. She will need you now," he said, trying to comfort the weary man.
"Need me?" Snape said and laughed bitterly. "Need me? Headmaster, I killed her. I doubt if she will ever want to look at me again."
And then a cry from the bed made them turn their attention to the unconscious woman. She stirred and moaned under Poppy's healing charms. And, contradicting Snape's prediction, she opened her eyes and looked right at him. There was no accusation in them, no anger or hatred. But then pain claimed her again and she closed her eyes tightly.
"How is she, Poppy?" asked Dumbledore.
"Several broken bones, a pierced lung, a minor concussion, but nothing that can't be fixed with a few charms, potions and lots of rest. As for her he wel well, this requires healing too. But there are others more suitable for this task," she added, looking at Snape, who lowered his eyes. "However, I'm afraid she has lost the child." Both men looked up in shock, while Morgaine turned her face away to hide the tears in her eyes.
"Child? She was with child?" Snape finally muttered.
Pomfrey stared back at him speechless, aware she had said more than she should have. When she finally nodded, his expression changed. Dark clouds were gathering in the depths of his eyes, the first signs of a storm.
"Get out, both of you," he hissed through clenched teeth.
And neither Dumbledore nor Pomfrey dared to raise any objections.
~*~
Snape stood up, walked to the bed and towered over her aching body. Morgaine attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain in her chest drove her back down.
"Was there perhaps another time I could have been told of this?" His words felt like shards of ice.
"Severus, I tried."
He looked at her coldly. "And might I ask who the father was?"
She fixed her eyes on his face, as his sarcasm pierced her heart. And thngernger replaced guilt and love.
"You know perfectly well, Severus."
"Do I? Let me see... Could it be Malfoy? Or Voldemort? Or perhaps your brother?"
Her fingers closed around a vial at the nightstand beside her and she threw it at him with all her strength. He bent sideways slightly and instead of hitting his head the vial crashed on the wall behind him, shattering in countless pieces.
"You were the father, you arrogant Slytherin bastard," she cried out. "I was five moths pregnant. Conceived in mid March, if this rings a bell in your bloated head, self-centred sarcastic fool!" And she collapsed back on the bed, breathing heavily, ready to burst in tears.
With fatigue taking its toll, Snape sat on the bed beside her. His anger had cooled down a bit, but he was still keeping a distance.
"You never told me. Why?"
Morgaine rolled over, turning her back to him.
"I tried to. But then you decided to confide to me the details of your Death Eater days and believe me, I was scared. And then your nightmares began and I was scared even more," she said in a trembling voice.
"You were scared? Of me? That I would somehow hurt the child?"
She nodded.
"And you kept this burden to yourself? Morgaine, I had the right to know." The pain in his voice hurt her deeper than any spell had that night. And it was hardly over. "When Voldemort had his fun, having me and the others cast one curse after another on you, you were carrying my child. Later, that same night, when I lost my temper and took it out on you, you were carrying my child. Mercifurlinrlin, what have I done?"
Morgaine turned around and saw him crouched on the side of the bed, his shoulders shaking. Gathering all of her strength, she managed to sit up, ignoring the jolts of pain in her chest and legs. Desperately, she clutched his shoulders, embracing him as tightly as she could.
"Don't hate me, Severus, please, don't hate me. I was a fool to believe that there was enough time. But then the Dark Lord came and I lost focus. But I never wanted to hurt you, Severus. I only tried to keep you safe; from him. If he knew that I was pregnant, he would have used this against you. And to me, nothing mattered as much as your safety. Neither my life, nor this of our child."
Breathless, she fell back on the bed, certain that he would stand up and walk out of the door and her life, for good this time. But he didn't. He turned over and in his haunted eyes she saw the tears that pride held from flowing. Leaning over her, he reached out and brushed her face with his fingers.
"I don't hate you, Morgaine, although I am still angry. Not just at you. I'm angry with myself, for letting this happen. I'm angry at many people right now, but I refuse to allow to my anger to darken the fact that you are still here." He studied her face for one long moment. "I know that I will forgive you, sooner or later. And I can only hope that you will try and do the same."
She had no words. She just kissed the fingers that touched her lips and smiled. And then she closed her eyes as sleep claimed her and took her to a dreamless rest.
Later that night, she opened her eyes and saw him sitting at a chair beside the bed. He was not sleeping. His eyes were staring at the empty darkness in front of him, his face frozen and vacant. But deadly flames were dancing under the surface.
Before drifting back into oblivion, a single thought came to her mind.
 
Some wounds run deep.