A Gothic Curse

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to JKR. The original plot and story belong to Velvet Song. Any resemblance to anything living or dead is purely coincidental.

Author's Note: This is a continuation of Velvet Song's story "Damsels & Dragons", which she has graciously allowed me to adopt. You will find the first thirteen chapters of her story here: http: //www. thepetulantpoetess.com /viewstory.php?sid =18337 (remove the spaces first). I can only hope I do her ideas justice.

I want to apologize for the length of time between updates. It's been a strange summer. 'Nuff said.

Thanks to Fizzabella and writermerrin for the beta of this chapter. I really appreciate all the reviews so far. Thank you.

A Gothic Curse

"I still think I should be the one to cast the counter-curse," Hermione argued as the discussion heated up. "Severus trusted me to help him."

"Gryffindors are too sentimental to use this type of curse," Lucius said. "You would stop in the middle of it if you thought you were hurting him."

"We will be hurting him!" She was on her feet now, leaning towards him with her hands planted firmly on the table. "That's the point of the entire exercise. Riddle created it to generate the most pain possible in the longest amount of time. It sounds worse than the Cruciatus."

"Which is why I believe you would stop in the middle and leave Severus hanging. Once you begin the spell, you cannot stop in the middle and have someone else take over. The person who starts casting must finish it."

"If I might make a suggestion?" Arthur said diffidently. Everyone, including the two combatants, turned to look at him. "Perhaps Hermione might ask Severus who he prefers. He might have a different opinion."

"An excellent suggestion," Minerva said with a soothing manner. "Hermione?"

"I don't have to ask him," Hermione snorted. "He's probably been eavesdropping all along. Haven't you, Severus?"

I have.

"Do you have a preference?"

William.

"William?" Hermione looked perplexed. "Who's William?"

Bill Weasley raised his hand shakily. "I think he means me."

Yes.

"It makes perfect sense," Remus said. "Bill's a curse-breaker."

"He's a Gryffindor," Lucius pointed out. "My original argument still stands. It should be a Slytherin casting the counter-curse."

The windows in the staff room shook with the force of the dragon's roar of displeasure. Minerva glanced at the window facing the Forbidden Forest and gasped. As the others looked out the window, a giant shadow stared in at them. Slowly, the dragon once known as Athair came into view, blocking out the sunlight and leaving the room in twilight. He glared at the group gathered around the table and roared again, shaking the walls this time as well as the windows. A stack of books on the table near the door slid over, and some fell onto the floor.

"I believe that answers your objections, Lucius," Hermione said with a smirk. "How soon could you be ready, Bill?"

"Depends on how long it takes to learn the spell," he answered. "Mr Phelps?"

"We could start this afternoon," Phelps told them. "If you're a quick study, probably... tomorrow? After all, you only have to learn eight lines."

"Good enough for me. Headmistress?"

Minerva tore her eyes away from the dragon that darkened the room. "Yes, William, I think that would do fine. Hermione, could you ask him to...? No, that's quite all right. I will." She strode to the window and set her hands on her hips. "Severus Snape, you stop this right now, do you hear? I will not tolerate tantrums from a senior member of this staff."

If a dragon could show emotion, Hermione could have sworn this one wore a smirk as he faded slowly from view. As the room lightened once more, his voice in her mind sighed happily,

Tomorrow.

* * *

"Where do we need to do this?" Bill asked the next day when everyone met in the staff room. "I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Don't you think so, Phelps?"

"Indeed. Indeed. You're an extremely fast study. Must come of all that curse-breaking." Phelps was practically bouncing on his toes, he was so excited. "Can't believe I'll actually witness this. It's groundbreaking."

It's curse-breaking.

Hermione snorted at Severus' dry comment, then repeated it to everyone else, most of whom chuckled, slightly easing the tension.

"We need to be in a clear area outside," Bill continued, "but I prefer an area that's not in the open. Any suggestions?"

"What about the Quidditch pitch?" Harry suggested.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded. "Not..."

"No," Draco interrupted. "It's perfect. Outside but enclosed as specified and it has the advantage of the elevated seating so we're out of the way."

"It might work," Minerva hedged. "At least we know it's big enough. What does Severus say, dear?"

I will meet you there.

"He says he'll meet us there," she relayed. "Are you sure about this, Bill?"

"As sure as I am about anything," Bill answered. "I swear to you, Hermione, I want this over with as much as Professor Snape does."

Hermione nodded even as she thought to Severus, There's going to be a lot of pain...even more than when you were transformed...and no guarantee the spell will even work.

I will manage, and it will work.

"If he's going to meet us at the Quidditch pitch, we need to leave now," Lucius pointed out. "The sooner we do this, the sooner Severus comes home."

***

As the teachers climbed into their viewing box, Bill and Phelps walked out onto the field of the Quidditch pitch. At the other end, near the opposition scoring hoops, dark shadows gave way to the larger Shadow Dragon. He moved forward as they did, the three of them meeting in the center of the field.

"Are you truly ready for this?" Bill asked cautiously. "Once I start, I can't stop until I've gone through the spell eight times."

Severus nodded his head several times, then looked at Hermione, seated with the other teachers high in the stands.

"He says to get it done already," she called down to the two wizards.

"All right," Phelps said. "The best distance for this would probably be eleven meters. If I recall correctly from the Pensieve memories, that's how far you were from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he cast the curse. I believe if we each move back about five and a half meters, that should do it." Severus nodded and started backward while Bill and Phelps did the same.

When Phelps figured they were far enough apart, he called, "Stop!" Turning to Bill, he simply said, "When you are ready."

"Severus?" Bill called. "Are you ready?"

The dragon gave a soft snort and nodded. "Stop stalling," Hermione relayed, her hands twisting in one of the blankets they had brought with them. "Get on with it."

Bill raised his wand, repeating the wand movements he learned overnight, and chanted:

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

Severus roared in pain as Hermione echoed him with a scream. Bill started to hesitate until Minerva, hugging the younger witch protectively, shouted, "Again!"

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

Thick black and purple smoke began to crawl up the dragon's body as he roared out his pain once more. Hermione screamed in empathy, writhing in Minerva's arms. "Lucius, come help me," the Headmistress hissed. "Grab one of those blankets and wrap it around her."

"I don't get it." Harry looked on in confusion. "Why is the spell affecting Hermione?" He looked out at the field where Bill continued shouting the counter-curse.

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

Hermione screamed and tried to pull away from the witch and wizard holding her down. "They're telepathically linked, Potter," Lucius sneered. "She's feeling everything he is."

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

The black and purple smoke grew thicker, almost obliterating the form of the dragon. His head tilted to the sky, he roared out his pain and tried to move towards the bleachers, but the smoke acted like thick chains. He couldn't move.

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

"The puir wee dragon." Hagrid sniffled into his handkerchief. "'E wants ta be 'ere wit' 'ermione. I'll 'elp 'im." He started for the stairs.

"Hagrid, no!" Harry shouted as he, Draco and Neville held the half-giant back. "That'll just make it worse!"

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

The thick smoke completely covered the dragon's body by now. Inside the black and purple cloud, the spectators could see what looked like miniature lightning strikes. Hermione, now unconscious, moaned in empathetic pain and twisted in the blanket Minerva and Lucius had wrapped around her.

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

Slowly, the thick cloud began to shrink in on itself, condensing to the size and shape of a human figure. The roars of the dragon trailed off into human screams and moans.

"This is extremely nerve racking," Filius said, staring at the field of the Quidditch pitch in fascination. "But," he continued, "I believe it's almost over."

"I certainly hope so," Narcissa whispered. She glanced over at the still unconscious Hermione. "For both their sakes."

"Faúr fôn dius a waír,

wisan waír aftra."

The black and purple smoke finally dissipated, leaving behind the unconscious nude body of Severus Snape. As Bill collapsed, his magic spent, Phelps shouted up to the bleachers. "Leave the boy to me! Someone needs to look after Severus!"

Lucius picked Hermione up in his arms as Minerva shouted down, "Take him to the Infirmary, Thaddeus. We've got Hermione." She turned to Hagrid, still being held back by the three younger wizards. "Hagrid, you, Harry and Draco take blankets to cover Severus and use a stretcher to take him to the Infirmary as well. Poppy's waiting for him. I don't believe she's expecting three patients, however."

"We did it, Hermione; no... you did it," Lucius whispered to the unconscious witch in his arms as he strode towards the castle. "We've got him back. Thank you."

A/N: The counter-curse was translated into Gothic using the appropriate section of the Freelang Dictionary. I do not guarantee the accuracy of the translation, however. The Freelang Dictionary program itself is available at http:// www.freelang.net (remove the extra space). This is not a recommendation of the program, but a mere pointing of the way for anyone who wishes to go deeper.