Chapter 5

When she came to, it took her a few moments to register she wasn't in her own home. Blinking, she turned her head and saw a serious-looking pale man with long, dark hair and beetle-black eyes, gazing at her with concern, and she shrieked.

"Please do not be alarmed," Snape said in as gentle a voice as he could muster. "You have injured yourself, and I found you. My name is Severus Snape and you are in my house at Spinner's End. You have nothing to fear."

Her heart racing, Sarah did not know what to say. She had every reason to be scared; here in front of her was the man in her dream, and she had no idea how she got here or what happened.

"This must be a dream," she murmured, looking around the room furtively and noticing shelves upon shelves of books and a rather threadbare rug on the old wooden floorboards.

"I'm afraid you are totally awake. I repeat: you injured yourself in the woods, I found you and I brought you here. Do not be frightened, Sarah." His eyes flicked from her necklace to her face.

Sarah paused for a second. "What happened? My things – " She lurched forwards.

" – Are right here, in your bag," he finished for her, calmly. "As to what happened, I cannot say for certain," he lied easily, "but when I found you, you were out cold, I'd assumed you may have tripped or fallen, and in such a... vulnerable state," he inflected these words carefully, "I did not want to leave you."

Sarah thought back, trying to remember what had happened. It was Lughnasadh, she had been in the woods, and – the thought suddenly hit her with extreme embarrassment – she had been completely naked! And on top of that, this man must realise she was a witch! What had happened to make her unconscious? Was it him? Maybe he'd touched her, or, or... She felt more afraid than ever, and without being able to stop it, hot tears pricked her eyes and spilled down her face.

Severus looked at her, pity flickering in his jet black eyes. "But of course, you are afraid, and in shock too I have no doubt. If you are wondering why I did not take you straight to hospital, the answer is because I do not own an automobile. My first thought was to get you somewhere safe. And you may not believe it, but you are perfectly safe here."

She looked up at him through her tears and sought his eyes. There was genuine concern in them, and he looked softer somehow than he did in her dream. The bit about the automobile struck her as an odd turn of phrase, and yet what he'd said sounded convincing. Wicca has never let me down, she thought, steeling herself, and blinked back tears as he offered her a delicate lace handkerchief.

"Thank you," she managed to hiccough.

"It is natural to be shocked," he said softly. "Would I be right in thinking a cup of tea would help about now?" He managed to smile at her and she smiled back warmly. "Yes, please. "

Severus left the room, and she could hear him clattering around in the kitchen. With him gone, she managed to get a good look at her surroundings. The room was large, looked tired and wasn't particularly well decorated, but it had a homely feel to it nonetheless. There was a battered armchair on which he had been sitting, positioned next to a cast-iron fireplace, with a small coffee table in front of it. Behind the sofa and along the next wall was floor to ceiling in bookshelves. She idly browsed the spines of the ones nearest to her. "The Art Of Potions" was nestled alongside "1000 Magical Plants And Their Uses". Raising her eyebrows, her eyes skimmed along the shelf and found "Advanced Book Of Spells, Grade 7" and "Sorcery And Spellwork". He's a witch! she thought with a gasp. Just as she was about to take down one of the books for a flick through, she saw him walking back through the door carrying a tinkling tea tray complete with steaming tea pot, two cups and saucers and a little jug of milk.

"You will have to excuse the poorness of my crockery; I rarely get visitors," he drawled as he busied himself pouring the tea.

"Not at all," Sarah replied, merely for something to say.

He handed her the cup and saucer, and she was thankful to find she wasn't shaking as she took it from him. He watched her carefully as she took a sip and was relieved to see that she had relaxed a little. The few drops Calming Draught he'd placed in her tea were starting to work. Severus had never been particularly gifted at being able to do "tea and sympathy", but he knew that keeping the Muggle girl on side was essential. Legillimens and Veritaserum were going to be no good to him now to get the information he needed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked carefully.

"Much better, thank you. But – I am a little embarrassed, at the state you found me in earlier –"

Severus nodded. "I thought you might be. But you should not worry. That's the way of Wicca, is it not?" He cocked his head to one side and the corner of his mouth turned up.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, making her teacup rattle on its saucer with her excitement. "You're one too! You're a witch!"

He let out a bark of a laugh at this. "My dear lady, the term is wizard. And yes, if you must know, I am one. I do not, however, practice Wicca."

A cold chill ran over her. "You practice Black Magic?" she asked quietly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Black Magic... Dark Magic... I will admit the Dark Arts fascinated me in my youth. But I regret the association. My magic these days is of a far lighter variety." He took a sip of Earl Grey, and she watched him intently.

"But if not Wicca, what is it you practice?"

Severus put down his cup and sighed. "I live in a different world to you. The magic I practice is very, very different. It is difficult to explain. There is so much you would not understand, or even believe." He paused, looking into her eyes. "It's magic. Does it need another name?" he asked softly and smiled.

"I guess not," Sarah murmured. But she was curious, and she was desperate to know more. Before she could formulate her next question however, Severus had already spoken.

"It is magic I need to speak to you of now. My knowledge of Wicca is actually very limited, and it is imperative I find out more about it. Maybe you'd be able to help me?"

Sarah looked at him appraisingly. "I believe there are books out there on the subject. But I'm not supposed to speak of the secrets of magic to those who do not practice," she said cautiously.

"Neither am I," he replied simply. "Have I not told you that I'm a wizard?"

Sarah hesitated. She'd seen the books, so she knew he was at the very least an occultist. But from where she was sitting, it seemed grossly unfair to ask all about her magic and then say he was a wizard but decline to share more information about his magic. He could just be saying it to find out my secrets, she thought.

Severus sensed her hesitation, and he rubbed his forehead. He needed to keep the girl interested and on his side, and he needed her to believe him. But the Statute of Secrecy forbade the use of magic in front of a Muggle. He took a deep breath.

"I am afraid I cannot physically show you my magic. It is forbidden. I would be discovered and punished severely. And also," he added quietly, "I think it would scare you."

Sarah looked up at him, and the flutter of uncertainty swept through her again.

"What I can do, however," he continued, "is show you my vast collection of spellbooks and my wand and implore you to believe me." He looked at her hard for a second before moving swiftly to the bookshelf, picking up various tomes. He handed her "Seven Spells of Success" by Billious Bigglesworth and "What Every Wizard Needs To Know About Transfiguration (But Are Too Afraid To Ask)" by Astrid Pepipsky. Sarah actually smiled at the title of the second book, and Severus watched her carefully as she scanned the blurb and flicked it open at random, scanning the page. Such strange names these authors have too, she noticed.

After a long time, she spoke.

"Why do you need to know more about Wicca?" she asked, still flicking through the book.

"I have noticed there are some... interesting parallels between your magic and mine. So I wish to explore this in more depth and see what resonance there could be for such a thing. Very little is known about Wicca in my circles."

Sarah seemed to find this an acceptable answer.

"May I see your wand?" she asked, closing the book. Silently, he removed it from his robes and paused for a second before handing it over. Sarah looked at it in wonder, noting he carried it on his person. It was made of pure ebony, a deep, luscious black, and must have been about twelve inches long. It had strange symbols carved ornately in the hilt. It did indeed look like a very magical object. She held it up, feeling the weight of it in her hands and stroked her fingers down the smoothly polished shaft. Severus couldn't help but smile at the way she admired and revered it; rightly so, he thought.

Can he really do those things in the book, she wondered. Transformations? Summoning charms? Is it really possible? The man did seem to exude intensity in waves, which must, she reasoned, be a reflection of his magical power.

"Do you believe me now," he asked, not unkindly, reaching to take his wand back.

"Yes, yes I do," she replied, handing the wand over. "Your wand is very beautiful," she said sincerely.

"Thank you." He gave her a crooked smile. No-one had described it quite like that before!

There was a few moments of silence before Severus asked, "So how long have you been a Wiccan?"

Sarah exhaled. "Well, magic has always fascinated me, even as a child. But I've been practicing Wicca for about five years now." She smiled proudly.

"And does it work?" he continued, his voice slipping into its usual lazy drawl.

She looked at him quizzically.

"Your magic. Does it work?"

Sarah's face fell and she looked affronted. So now he doesn't believe me! "Yes, my magic works," she replied, trying to keep her voice even. "It took me a few attempts, and I'm not perfect, but the more I practice, the better it gets."

Severus looked at her thoughtfully.

"Can you tell me which spells of yours have worked particularly well?" he asked softly.

Sarah looked down. "A few months ago I put a binding spell on my brother. He self-harms, and I did it to protect him. Ever since then, he stopped," she said quietly. "Also, a friend of mine was diagnosed with an aggressive tumour, the doctors said she would only have months to live. I preformed a healing spell for her and she was cured." She looked up, and Snape quirked an eyebrow. "And sometimes I have dreams... not all the time, but sometimes..."

"Go on," Severus prompted, intrigued.

"Well some of them are prophetic. In the last dream I had like that, I dreamt about you." She looked him straight in the eyes, a green stare of defiance, daring him to contradict her.

Severus looked genuinely shocked. "Me?"

She nodded. "I was following you through an old building, full of arches. It looked like a university or something. But I couldn't catch you. Then I lifted up my wand, and all this white light came from the end, and you turned around to face me. Then you disappeared, just like that, into nothing. That's why I screamed when I woke up earlier, because you were the man in my dream." Sarah conveniently neglected to mention how this dream had come about, and any romantic implications the dream was supposed to portend to.

Severus' eyebrows meanwhile had crept higher and higher up his forehead whilst listening to her. The Muggle really can do magic! If she can do magic, she's not a Muggle. And if she's not a Muggle, why can't she seem to do other magic, MY kind of magic? He closed his eyes for a moment. This makes no sense. You're either a Muggle, a witch, a wizard, or a Squib. That much had been drummed in to every magical person since birth. There had to be answers.

He snapped his eyes open, a thought suddenly stirring.

"Do you always perform magic in the woods?" he wondered.

"When the weather allows me to. Wicca is about being closer to nature, to the elements."

"I see..." Severus leaned back into his chair. I've been practicing magic in those woods since I was a child. The place has obviously absorbed some of my magical energy, which in turn has made her charming Wiccan rites successful, he thought smugly. Yes, that must be it. She's a delicate flower though... Let's play pretend with her and see what else I can find out...

"And when you were out in the woods today, what ritual were you performing?"

Sarah took a deep breath. The man will surely ask what I had for breakfast or when I last passed a bowel movement next, she thought wryly, but continued as calmly as she could. "Today is Lughnasadh, otherwise known as Lammas, which is one of the eight sabbats of Wicca."

"And what is the significance of this day?"

"It celebrates the god Lugh, who was killed and resurrected. It's a festival of death and resurrection."

Severus froze. After the War, when the full story of Harry Potter's final showdown with the Dark Lord came to light, the wizarding world was amazed at the boy's death and subsequent resurrection. "Oh, Merlin," he muttered. All these links between worlds was far too coincidental. Where was it leading?

"Are you alright?" she asked, seeing him pale further.

Severus steadied himself. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just today has great significance in the wizarding world, for very similar and yet totally different reasons. The growing parallels are very surprising."

He paused for a moment, remembering Avada Kedavra.

"I must ask you, have you ever heard of the words Avada Kedavra?" he asked slowly, looking at the floor and careful to say them with no emotion.

"You mean Abracadabra?" she asked, unsure if she heard right. His head shot up. "That word. What does it mean?" he asked her quite fiercely now, and she could sense the urgency in his voice, and his gaze became more than a little intimidating as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"I-it's a magical word, it doesn't really mean anything," she said quickly. "I looked it up once and apparently it stems from Roman times as a protective chant, like an amulet. Why do you ask?" she asked curiously.

"It sounds very much like the most deadly spell you could ever perform in my world. It sounds just like the Killing Curse."

She looked at him, horrified. He looked back at her solemnly. "I'm glad there is no parallel for that word," he said quietly.

She blinked at him. Killing Curse? He said he wasn't into Black Magic!

He changed tact, swiftly changing the subject before she had a chance to feel uncomfortable. "Tell me more about what you were doing in the woods today. What rites and spells were you going to cast?"

"Well, the standard opening rite, then a symbolic rite for Lugh, then I would have performed a spell of my own creation." She glanced down nervously. He wondered if she would have repeated her love spell, but he didn't want to embarrass her so he kept quiet.

"There is one rite that should be performed today, but which I am unable to perform alone," she continued softly.

"Oh?" He found her eyes, an enquiring look etched on his face.

"Yes, it requires two people." She tried to sound breezy, excitement welling up inside her. "It's called the Great Rite." She looked at her hands, not able to believe what she was about to suggest. Wicca has never let me down, she thought again.

"And what is so great about this particular rite?"

She paused. "It's supposed to be one of the most powerful rites in Wicca. It's about balance, and unity, and the power of the male and female polarity joining as one."

"And that would involve?" he asked, looking sideways at her.

Sarah took a deep breath. "It involves sex. And I want you to perform the Great Rite with me, tonight."