The Shattering of Souls

i see you\'re back. couldn\'t stay away, could you? that\'s ok. neither could i! ;p so, here it is.... this is not my world. it belongs..... ok, well not all of it is mine. most of it belongs to j.k. rowling. what you don\'t see in her books is what is obviously mine. and just so you know, i am only borrowing them. i will put them back when i\'ve finished with them. ~insert evil laughter here~ i promise. and i am not, no matter what anyone says, making any money or compensation on this. just the over worked sex drive that it eventually gives birth to....

warnings..... only a couple. raunch and darkness may endue. then again, they may not. it depends on what the guys feel like doing. i don\'t think bri is up to sex yet. we\'ll just have to see.

please, if you like it, i wouldn\'t mind hearing from you. comments and suggestions, even some helpful pointers ~read:constructive criticism~ are welcome. flames are not. flame me, and i will use it to roast your ass! and i really can\'t leave the dragon out of it. poor little guy, he\'d be so crushed.

Chapter Nine: Shadows of Madness
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, head buried in his hands. His shoulders were slumped in defeat, while his robes were rumpled and unkempt. Not only were the occupants of the portraits on the walls staring at him in deep concern, but so were Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, as well. None of them had ever seen the current Headmaster look anything other than happy and in control. It had been ages since his eyes had twinkled for anyone. Oh, he put on a good show for the students because he had to. But, in private, he felt the weight of his years and experiences pressing down upon him.

Minerva McGonagall stood in the doorway, staring at the man behind the desk with compassion and sympathy in her eyes. She disliked seeing her good friend in such despair, but she knew there was nothing she could do to lighten his burden. He wouldn\'t allow it, even if there was a way. Much of what had been done to secure the Wizarding World against the threat of Voldemort over the years had been instigated solely by Albus himself. The facade he had worn and presented to the world had joined with the evil that Voldemort had spread among the populace of the magical community to wear him down, turn him into a tired old man who no longer knew if he wished to be a part of the fight.

She moved across the stone floor to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder in silent support and solidarity. He didn\'t move for several more moments, then lifted his head to look at her. She saw the regret in his eyes, the tiredness and defeat etched onto every deep line on his face. She heaved a heavy sigh. \'None of this is your fault, Albus.\'

\'You did not see what Lucius Malfoy did to Bri Wallace\'s back. That girl is scarred for life. Physically and mentally. And I am the one who is responsible for that,\' he told her, then pressed on before she could say something. \'Harry Potter is going mad. And I am the one who is responsible for that. Severus grows to hate me more and more each day. And I am the one who is responsible for that. The students and the staff who died in the final battle. I am responsible for those deaths. I put them there.\'

\'Albus,\' Minerva slowly went down on her knees, taking his hands between hers as she looked up at him. Her eyes pleaded with him to not blame himself so harshly. \'You are not to blame for all that has befallen Potter and Severus and the girl. Nor are you to blame for the people who gave their lives for the Order. They all knew what could happen. They joined in the battle anyway.\'

Albus made some noise. Minerva pressed on, trying in deperation to make him understand. \'You did not put Bri Wallace into Malfoy\'s hands. She knew the risks she took. She was the first one to make sure the others did, too. She understood what could happen to her. You did not press her to take the job. You cannot take the blame for that. Severus agreed to spy for you of his own free will. You didn\'t make him do that. He doesn\'t hate you. And you cannot hold yourself accountable for Harry\'s state of mind. The boy has seen more in a short amount of time what few of us see in our entire lives. That he is still in possession of any sanity is a miracle\'

\' I gave them all the opportunity to be where they were at the crucial moment. If not for me, none of this would have ever happened,\' he replied sadly, his gaze pinning hers with it\'s intensity. Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not for her, and certainly not for him. Albus wouldn\'t want her to cry for him. Nor would any of those who had died in the final battle. They had all known what price they could pay. And nothing Albus Dumbledore said could convince her that he was at fault.

\'Listen to me, you stubborn old goat!\' she insisted, her anger now taking place of her worry. \' I\'ll not let you sit here and blame yourself for something you had no control over. You were not the one who set Tom Riddle on his course. That is something that was completely out of your hands. In fac,t from what I can recall, you did all you could to kep him from that path. All the blame you place on yourself should be resting on his grave. It is because of his actions that all you speak of has come to pass. Voldemort is the one who should be held accountable for what has befallen those who have been hurt or lost. Not you!\'

Saddened blue eyes looked up at her, and she could see that he was not of a mind to listen to her. She scowled at him, a trait that she had perfected while being in Snape\'s presence, then slapped her palms down on the desk top and levered herself to her feet. She glowered down at him in his seat, propping her hands on her hips in her pique. \'Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you silly old man! I do not blame you, nor does anyone else,\' she informed him, then went on, her voice softening with more than friendship. \'Stop being such a stick in the mud and come back to me. I miss you, Albus. I miss the long evening talks and the walks through the rose gardens. Most of all, I miss your infuriating ability to know every thing. You are not omnipotent. You are merely a man who has shouldered more than his fare share of responsibility.\'

Minerva turned and strode to the door. The tears she had held in check were threatening to spill over once more. She stopped at the closed panel, not turning to face him as she struggled with her emotions.\'Come back to me, Albus. I miss you,\' she whispered into the silent room, then pulled the door wide and stepped out.

Albus stared at the empty space where his Deputy Headmistress had just been standing. Minerva was a good friend, and he was lucky to have her. He managed a ghost of a smile, a faint chuckle creeping up his throat. It brought the attention of the former Headmasters and Mistresses to him. Fawkes and the Sorting Hat turned to look at him in wonder, the sound of amusement foreign in the room after so long an absence. He gave them all a wink, a faint twinkle showing in his blue eyes.

\' I\'ve missed you, too, you old battle axe,\' he whispered after Minerva.

~*~*~*~*~

It was as if time passed at it\'s own leisure in Otherworld. The sun rose and fell without any preset schedule, and the days were always sunny. Fluffy clouds floated high in the sky, but there didn\'t ever seem to be a threat of rain. The grass stayed green while the flowers continued to bloom in rich, vibrant colors that seemed to never fade or die. Even without a visible water source. It had proven to be an annoyance to the guests from the Mortal Realm. Having become accustomed to the tempestuous nature of British weather, the visitors found the constant cheerful character of the place to be a right pain in the arse.

Had it not been for the fact that Severus had deigned to pack a calendar and a watch, none of them would have known that they had been marooned in Otherworld for over three weeks. The small group had found that there was virtually nothing to do in Otherworld. No one had thought to bring anything that would serve to help pass the time, with exception of Snape\'s personal labs. There were books, yes. But none of them were apparently written in English. They were useless as a form of entertaiment.

Izzy used the time to watch Bri silently, noting how Bri was never far from Severus when he was not in his labs or bedroom. She was disgusting by her friend\'s pitiful display of need toward the Potions Master. Even when they had been students at Hogwarts, Bri had gone on and on about the virtues the man hadn\'t been blessed with. She had never liked the git, and she\'d never been afraid to let anyone know of her dislike. He\'d always been less than cordial with her, his tone icy and abrupt when he spoke to her. More so than the one he used with the other students. Neither one had particularly cared for the other. So this constant need of hers to be near the snarky bastard was beyond Izzy\'s comprehension.

In her silent, mostly unseen observing. she had noticed that Bri regarded the others around her warily. As if she didn\'t trust a one of them. How she had gone from the defiant Witch and well trained body guard she had been to the quivering, cowering child she was now, Izzy couldn\'t figure out. One moment, Bri had been snarling at the world, practically cursing anyone who crossed her path when she was in the midst of a fight. Now, Izzy doubted Bri would even know how to defend herself if the need arose. Izzy still felt that Snape had been involved in that in some manner. She was yet determined to uncover how and call him on it.

What made it worse was the nightmares. Bri had started having them the second night they had been there. All had been peaceful and silent, then screams had rent the night, pulling everyone from their bed. Izzy had actually beaten Snape into Bri\'s room to find her thrashing wildly among the bed clothes. Izzy had gone to her side, using a soft voice to wake her and calm her. When Bri\'s gaze had landed on Izzy, she\'d thrown herself from the bed, stumbling over the long nightgown she\'d been wearing to fall against Snape and whimper into his black robes.

Izzy had been astounded that she had been rejected by her best friend, followed closely by hurt and angered. This was another thing she had blamed on Snape. She wasn\'t sure what he\'d done, but he\'d taken her best friend from her. If for no other reason, she would make him pay for that. She\'d spent any free time not watching over Bri sitting in private with Harry. The two of them would plan and plot ways to bring about Snape\'s downfall. Both were completely sure that he was to blame for Bri\'s current state, and both wanted to see him pay for his crimes.

Over the course of their stay in Otherworld, Harry had spent much of his time in contemplation. He knew that the others worried over him. He knew that the time spent at Hogwarts, fighting off the ever present threat of Voldemort, had taken it\'s toll on his sanity. He was, in some of his more lucid moments, certain that he was going quite mad. But that hadn\'t kept him from thinking. He\'d spent the better part of his school years and the one after, some almost four years now, in the company of Bri Wallace. A man didn\'t spend time in the presence of a woman for that long and not start noticing things.

He supposed that was part of the reason why he\'d been so adamant about her being rescued from Malfoy. Because he had, at some point, not seen her so much as his bodyguard, but as a guard with a body that was worth paying attention to. Once they\'d been forced into hiding, he\'d had more opportunity to realize that she was attractive. And he\'d found himself developing something of a crush on her. He\'d been careful not to let on, but it had been there just the same. There had been many nights when he\'d woken with an erection that was so painful, he thought he\'d die from pleasure when he\'d wanked off. And it had been because of Bri.

So it hadn\'t been all that surprising when, during the two months of confinement with Izzy, he\'d found that she\'d been just as nice to look at as Bri had been. Perhaps it was merely hormones. He couldn\'t be sure, because he\'d not really had time to date and get close to girls during his school years. Too many Death Eaters and a war to fight. Not to mention Professors and exams. Now, he was seeing them left and right. And his hormones had kicked into overdrive. Spending time with Izzy, watching her when she was caught up in watching Bri and Snape together, had given him a finer appreciation for the woman. Several nights since coming to Otherworld, he\'d woken in the same physical state as he had while on the run with Bri.

When Izzy came to him, spouting her ideas about Snape, he listened to her. With half an ear. It wasn\'t that he disagreed with her assessment of what the man had done to Bri. Harry knew something had happened to her, and he couldn\'t help but thinking that Snape was as much to blame as Malfoy was. But, as it seemed in some small way to be the same litanyday after day, he allowed his mind to wander as she spoke. He could very well imagine the things he would like to do to her, should he only be given the chance.

His hands ached to feel the weight of her breasts resting in his palms. His mouth wanted to taste her skin while his teeth wanted to leave marks on every inch of exposed flesh. And as for his cock, well that wanted to go everywhere. Thinking of Izzy in such a manner always left him longing for more than his fantasies. It was hard to sleep just across the hall from her every night and not act on his desires.

Bill and Remus had spent much of their time in Otherworld talking with one another. The second day they\'d been there, Severus had given the papers to Bill that Gringotts had sent for him. he\'d read them, surprised and interested to find out precisely why he had been sent there. It appeared that the Goblins at the bank wanted him to do research on some of the spoken and written languages that come out of Faerie. He was glad to have something to do, as it kept him from being caught between Harry and Izzy.

The two of them were going off the deep end about something. He wasn\'t sure what, but he knew that Remus has sensed it, as well. The other man spoke often about Harry\'s continuing slip into the deep end of insanity and Izzy\'s obsession with Snape and Bri. And that was not something either of them could miss.

The longer they stayed, the more withdrawn Bri became. Unless she was dealing with Severus. Bill knew some, had been told a brief synopsis of all that had transpired between the time of Bri\'s capture. He also knew that Severus had been the one to free her from her captivity. He could understand why she\'d attached herself to him so fervently. She saw him as her hero. An odd picture, to be sure, as Snape was the least likely of anyone he knew to be a heroic figure. But it was undoubtably how Bri saw him.

There were also times when Bill caught Remus looking at their host, Tyler, with far more intensity than should have been necessary. It was almost as if he were trying to see straight into the girl, to read her soul. It was odd, as Remus fell into bouts of deep thought. Many times, the shape shifter would go so deep into his subconscious, the red head didn\'t think even a Forbidden cast upon the other man would pull him from contemplation. Not that Bill could say anything better about himself. He caught himself thinking on Izzy more than he felt he should have.

It was apparent to him that the woman blamed herself for Percy\'s death. Everytime they looked at one another, he could see it in her eyes. And, on some deeper level, he blamed her too. She had been assigned to Percy. She should have taken the blast for him. It was a constant thought, even though he knew in his mind that she had most likely done everything she could. Bill hadn\'t been on the battlefield, so he couldn\'t know what had actually gone on. He was sure that it was pure pandemonium, and Izzy\'d had her hands full trying to keep herself from going down. All it would have taken was moment for her to turn her attention from his brother, and Percy would have had all the time he\'d needed to step in front of the youngest Weasley male.

Still, Bill found himself dwelling on the sadness in her eyes at the oddest times. He\'d found himself inexplicably wanting to find some way to soothe away her anguish. He couldn\'t explain why he felt as if he owed her something, but the thought was there. At night, as he lay in his bed and tried to drift off, he found himself thinking on ways to show her that Percy\'s death wasn\'t her fault. It was disturbing, because he didn\'t think he should have those kinds of feelings about his dead brother\'s bodyguard.

It seemed that the women here with them in Otherworld were some type of puzzle that needed solving. Sovling puzzles was something Bill was very good at.

~*~*~*~*~

Severus sat in the chair in his room, a book in his hands. He was trying to read, but his mind wouldn\'t clear itself of all the thoughts it held long enough for him to accomplish so simple a task. Everytime he started in on the words, his brain automatically assailed him with thoughts about Bri Wallace. It was getting damned annoying.

For well over three weeks, the woman had clung to him like ivy to a trellis. It was making him terribly uncomfortable. In point of fact, he was going bloody starkers because of the female. He didn\'t like having people cling to him the way Bri did. He didn\'t think it was natural. He hadn\'t seen much of that kind of need when he\'d been a child, so it wasn\'t something he completely understood. But he didn\'t know how to make her understand that she couldn\'t hang off him as if he were a flag pole and she the flag.

He was certain the others thought he didn\'t pay attention, but he had noticed that Bri wouldn\'t go near them. He knew she regarded them all warily, as if she wasn\'t sure she could trust them. He\'d told her time and again that they were all friends, but she refused to listen. It was making him rather anxious for the day when she would retrieve her memories. Something which seemed to be as far off in the distance as the setting sun. It was not an idea that pleased him.

He hadn\'t been surprised by the nightmares. He\'d actually expected them, as he was well versed in the depravity that Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange were capable of. What he hadn\'t expected was that Bri would refuse to go to any of the others for comfort. That first night, when she had thrown herself at him, he\'d been completely at a loss over what to do. He\'d noticed the looks he\'d gotten from both Izzy and Harry, but he hadn\'t given them much thought. He\'d been too concerned with the woman who\'d been sobbing on him and wetting his robes down.

He\'d calmed her and put her to sleep while the others had looked on. Bill and Remus with amusement and Harry and Izzy with burning hatred. She\'d slept the rest of the night. He\'d been the only one to go to her room the next night. Once again, she\'d been thrashing and screaming on the bed. When he\'d gotten her calmed down, he\'d asked her to tell him what was causing the nightmares. He knew it was the memory of what had been done to her, and he thought that if she perhaps talked about it, the memories wouldn\'t have such a hold on her. But she had refused, whimpering as she\'d shaken her head. Then she\'d simply withdrawn from herself, as if her mind had left her body completely. She\'d gone slack in his arms.

Each time he\'d asked her after that to tell him what had happened, she\'d done the same thing. She\'d closed herself off from everything, withdrawing until she\'d stared sightless at the wall. He could understand the need to distance herself from what had happened, but he knew she needed to confront her memories or they would hold sway over her for the rest of her life. He knew the power of memories all too well, and he didn\'t want her to be subjected to that kind of horror for the rest of her days. No matter who she was.

Equally confusing to him was this need he found himself with. The one that had him trying to help her. He\'d never been one to want to help a person with anything. Ever. So his sudden desire to help Bri come to terms with her nightmares and the abuse that had brought them on was terribly confusing to him. He finally put it down to the need to see her leave off. His clothing was getting a thorough soaking from all of her wailing, and he was at his wit\'s end when it came to dealing with the traits she exhibited that could mark her as being from the ivy family.

With a sigh and a muttered curse, he closed the book he\'d not read any of and set it on the table next to him. Might as well get some sleep. He was at least assured of that, since he\'d taken to brewing and feeding Bri a sleeping potion. It kept her from waking the house with her screams and gave a chance to sleep through the night peacefully. Severus stood and stretched, then began removing his clothes for the night. He folded them up carefully, placing them in a neat pile on the chair, then slipped into bed and sought the rest from his wayward thoughts that sleep brought.

~*~*~*~*~

Severus awoke with a start, the feeling that something was wrong prodding him out of deep slumber. Not that he was upset to have his night\'s rest disturbed. He\'d been dreaming, as he\'d done nearly every night since coming to this infernal place. Night after night of a very vivid, visual reminder of what his life had once been. Of the past he had tried to escape. The memories still brought a sick rush of desire, even after all this time.

He could still hear the screams as they echoed about the enclosed chambers of Death Eaters prison cells, the sounds as fresh and filled with pain as they had been all those years ago. He could still smell the heady mixture of spilt blood and sweat. He could still taste the fear that had clouded the air as thickly as the famous London fog. Faint moans from the weaker prisoners had served to excite and incite him. The torture chambers ahd been flooded with an overpowering combination of terror and perverse pleasure. He had tried to shut out those memories long ago. Thanks to Bri Wallace, they had all come rushing back.

He was glad to be woken from his dream.

He was not, however, happy to find himself laying in bed in the darkened room of a safe house in the middle of nowhere, suddenly wide awake. Something had disturbed him. He was not surprised to find that the instincts that had kept him alive for as long as he could recall were still as sharp and as strong as ever. His mind and body had been jerked back to full consciousness because something was wrong. He opened his eyes slowly to look about.

It was difficult to find anything out of place in the near dark of the room. He had to strain his eyes until they adjusted to the lack of light. There were a few shafts of moonlight slipping between the cracks in the curtains, and it was one of these that allowed him to see the shadow move across the floor toward his bed. He lay as still as he could, slowly inching his hand up toward his head so he could slip it up under the pillows and retrieve his wand. His plan was simple. He would bring up the lights and attack at the same moment. Questions could be saved for afterward. If there was an afterward.

Very carefully, Severus slipped from the softness of his bed. He made no noise, used to moving with as much stealth as any of the large predators. It had kept him alive for many years. When he stood, he cocked an ear and listened. Whoever or whatever was in his room was nearly as silent as he was, but there was a rustle of cloth. He was able to pinpoint the intruder\'s location that way and adjusted his position accordingly. After another few moments of silence, he made his move. With one fluid stroke of his wand, he illuminated the room with candle light and sent out a blast that was strong enough to knock an elephant on it\'s arse.

So it was very surprising for Severus to see Bri standing in direct line of the path of his wand burst. She was staring ahead of her blankly, one hand extended before her in a defensive move that sent the bright orange light spinning off into the corner. She flicked her wrist with a casual grace that was very obviously a natural movement for her. Before he knew what had happened, he found himself sitting on his arse on the floor. He stared up at her in shock for a moment before the numbness seeped from both his brain and his bum, allowing the reality to sink in with it. She had just defended herself from his attack with little more than inconscious thought. He pulled himself to his feet and retrieved his wand, keeping an eye on her.

She never moved, except for several rapid blinks of her eyes. The blank look left them and she stared at him with no small amount of confusion. She looked as if she didn\'t know what was going on. \'Very good, Miss Wallace. Very few people can get past my defenses.... like that,\' Severus congratulated her, his tone lacking any discernable emotion. He had almost said so easily in place of like that, but he was certain he would have choked on the words.

\' I\'m sorry?\' she asked him, only just noticing that he was not clothed. A blush stained her cheeks, and she turned away from him.

You just used wandless magic to defend yourself from my attack,\' he replied, reaching for the black robe that lay on the end of his bed. He shrugged into it, tying it shut to save himself from her annoyingly vriginal behavior. He wasn\'t completely taken by surprise when he lifted his head from the belt on his robes and found her peaking at him over her shoulder. \' It\'s a good sign that we\'ll be able to retrieve your memories.\'

\' I just used what?\' her voice sounded shocked. She turned to look at him full on, now that he had covered himself.

\'Wandless magic. A specialty of yours, from what Dumbledore has told me. He claims you as the best. Now I can see why,\' There was a small amount of admiration in his words as he spoke. He was surprised to find her instincts were so good, given all she\'d been through. It made him suddenly wonder why she hadn\'t tried to use them on Malfoy and Lestrange. Of course, she would have been dead with her first attempt. Still, it was puzzling why she hadn\'t even thought to give it a go.

\'I can do magic?\' she sounded skeptical. He had to laugh, allowing the foreign sounds of mirth to fill the room a moment or two before looking at her once again. She could ask such an obviously ridiculous question after having Apparated and portkeying on the same day? The girl had to be lacking in intelligence if she didn\'t realize that those occurances were not normal.

\'Of course you can do magic. You\'re a Witch, by the gods,\' Severus told her, crossing his arms over his chest. Her eyes bulged a moment at the news, then puzzlement crossed her face.

\'My memories?\' she sounded positively confused by this. Instead of allowing her to continue on, when all he now desired was to go back to sleep, he spoke again before she could.

\'Why are you here, Miss Wallace?\' his tone was hard and cold. She glanced at him uncertainly, then mimiced his posture, crossing her arms over her chest. Out of fear. He could see it in the way she stood, her shoulders hunched the slightest bit forward.

\'Please,\' she whispered. \' I know this will sound silly to you, but I\'d really rather not sleep alone tonight. I.... I\'m afraid.\'

\'Of what?\' he barely kept himself from sighing out his frustration.

\'The darkness..... I don\'t like it,\' she admitted.

\'Leave a candle burning.\'

\' It\'s not the same. I just want to lie next to you. To feel you there. I promise I won\'t be any kind of burden,\' she said hastily. He couldn\'t imagine how he kept himself from sneering at that. She was a bloody big burden, and he was tired of playing her keeper. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. He stared back, finally giving a sigh after several moments. One hand swung out to gesture to the bed. He had to be starkers to allow this. He certainly didn\'t want her in his bed. \'Thank you,\' she smiled, her lips barely turned up at the corners, then slipped into the bed.

As Severus watched her climb into the king sized bed, he noted the way her bottom curved under the material of her night gown. He fought off a groan, sternly telling himself he didn\'t need to look at her as anything other than his own personal form of torture. She settled down, pulling the coverings up over her legs, her back turned to him. He sighed once more, then extinguished the light.

Just before his hands closed over the blankets, he realized that he wasn\'t one to sleep in clothing. And she\'d been down right embarrassed to see him as such. But she was the one who wanted to sleep with him, and it was his room. With out a twinge of guilt, he untied the belt and shucked his robe. If she didn\'t like it, she could bloody leave. He slid under the covers, making sure to return his wand to it\'s resting spot under his pillow.

It startled him to feel her soft form press against his. He felt her tense a moment when she noted his lack of night clothes, he decided. Then she shifted closer to the warmth of his skin, an audible sigh leaving her lips. She pressed her body against his, her back matched to his chest, then promptly slipped off to sleep. It was not so easy for him to do the same.

Severus lay awake for some time, wondering why the feel of her body pressed almostly shamelessly against his, wasn\'t provoking more of a reaction than it had. He\'d been put out at first, not wanting to share his privacy with anyone else. But the feel of her soft flesh pressed to his was doing rather odd things to his equilibrium. He was enjoying it far more than he thought he should be. Not a happy thought, to be sure.

Severus Snape was a man to hold onto his grudges. And he had a big one with Bri Wallace. She had taken his liberty from him. Had taken his free will as if it were a chocolate frog and devoured it before him. He hated the wench with a passion. By rights, she should not be sharing his bed with him. Platonic reasons or not. She had no right to lay by him. His anger should have gone through the roof with her request. Instead, he\'d found his mind straying back to that brief glimpse he\'d had of her naked nearly a month ago.

In fact, from what he could feel now, she had obviously been putting on weight while in Otherworld. She didn\'t feel as bony to him as she had been, and he\'d noticed that her face was filling out. She had to be eating well. The thought that the woman was well enough, physically, made his blood run hot. Not with anger, but more of that perverse desire he\'d known when he\'d been an active Death Eater. Some part of him found her near complete dependence upon him as intoxicating as an aphrodisiac. He wanted to finish what Malfoy and Lestrange had started. He wanted to break her completely, leave her helpless without him.

Severus closed his eyes while letting off a low growl. He should not be thinking of Bri Wallace as a sexual being, or a toy. She would never condescend to taking the likes of him as a lover. She was too high and mighty to lower her standards. The thought made his blood boil with anger. The woman was not above that. She was no better than he was. She was a killer in her own right. Which meant she deserved what ever she got. Twisted thinking, he knew. But a part of him felt it was right. And with the thought came another. He would make Bri Wallace pay. For everything.

She would pay for taking his freedom from him. He\'d been lost with nothing to do all day long. Much as he\'d raged against his students, he\'d done so out of a need to see them properly educated. She\'d taken that from him. The dreams that he\'d vanquished, that he\'d spent nearly a year locking behind a mental barricade, were now back. Something she\'d given him that he had no need for. Her holier than thou attitude that made him appear to be inferior to her, that she\'d so blatantly flaunted before him, was something he could have lived without. He would see her pay for her crimes.

Laying there in the dark, a plan came to him. Something he felt would fit the guilt he placed upon her shoulders. Bri Wallace had spent the better part of half her life hating him. Treating him as if he were dirt under her dainty feet. Well, he\'d show her. If she wanted to see hateful, he\'d show it to her in all it\'s glorious and shining brilliance. He\'d do something so foul and nasty, she\'d never forgive him, much less recover from it.

Severus Snape would woo and court Bri Wallace. He\'d treat her with all the kindness in the world. He\'d turn her to putty in his hands, make her need him with all the desire she felt. He\'d make her love him. And when she was desperate to have him, he\'d walk away and let her life crumble to dust. He\'d show her who was the Master.

With a faint smile on his face, he slipped an arm around her and pulled her even closer to the hard planes of his chest. Oh yes, Bri Wallace would pay.....

end chapter nine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank yous go to madam shark, beta and best friend. she understand when no one else does. to my usuals...thanks for all the support. as always, it means bunches.

please feel free to let me know what you think. be nice if you do so. i don\'t take well to mean things, and tend to go medieval about it. call me silly.....