Conflagration

Disclaimer:

Shana: Do I really have to keep doing this?

Kim: For legal purposes, yes.

Shana: Damn.

Kim: *rolls eyes* Any recognizable characters contained herein belong to JK Rowling. Only the plot and original characters belong to Shanastay. No copyright infringement is intended and no monies of any form are made from this.

Shana: Thank you.

Kim: No problem. Now, WRITE!

Shana: *mutters* Demanding bitch.

Chapter 18: Conflagration

The ebony raven went utterly still in her lap, its black gaze locked on hers. It didn't so much as twitch, the whites of its eyes showing in its wild eyes.

A self-satisfied smirk grew on the witch's face. "It would seem that Albus left out a rather important piece of information when he was briefing me about you."

The bird broke from its statue-like stillness, shaking its head violently.

"Oh, yes, I know that's you, Severus Snape. I must say this is a rather ingenious way of gaining access to the school and my rooms. Why Albus told me you would be using Polyjuice to approach me, if you could do this, makes no sense."

Again, the raven shook its head.

Shaluinn narrowed her gaze at the bird, mind working quickly. "He didn't know, did he?" She took her hand from the avian's back, still stroking his downy breast, wondering idly why he didn't leap at the opportunity to escape her grasp.

He let out a crow that sounded suspiciously like a "yes" and hooded his eyes, leaning into her touch ever so slightly.

He's actually enjoying this attention. If I actually, truly knew this man, I would probably be mortified by the idea that I'm touching him in a rather intimate manner, even if he is a bird at the moment. She moved her hand slightly, scratching lightly up under his throat.

His eyes closed completely at that, beak opening slightly to emit a rumbling purr.

Oh, he definitely likes that. Curiouser and curiouser. "So correct me if I'm wrong..." She waited until he was looking at her again. "...but Albus didn't know you were an Animagus."

Shaluinn dropped her hand to her lap, only to have it immediately pecked at. She lifted her hands out of range defensively, meeting his obsidian gaze. "Okay, okay! You don't want me to stop. I get it!" The witch brought both hands down to brush along either side of his body, by his wings.

He responded by unfurling his wings, draping them across each of her thighs. This granted her access to his sensitive sides, where wings met body.

She trailed her fingertips up and down the receptive spots, watching as his eyes once again drifted shut, head thrown back, a purr again emitting from his breast. It was all she could do to contain the laughter bubbling up into her chest. Gods, this is so absurd and utterly wrong. I'm either playing with a highly intelligent bird, or molesting the man I'm supposed to be helping, even if he is currently a raven.

"Goddess, I really hope I'm not making an utter fool of myself here. I'm going to feel very foolish if you turn out to be just a bird. Then again, if you are just a bird, what harm could possibly come of me waxing philosophical?"

Like her words were some kind of trigger, the raven leapt out of her lap, circling the room once, before diving toward the bank of windows.

Shaluinn was on her feet and striding forward.

In a flutter of feathers, the large bird came in for a landing, the transformation beginning before he touched the ground. Before her eyes, the avian became a large, black-clad man, crouched in front of her. As he brought himself to his full height, she struck.

Her right hand flew out, sliding over the side of his face and past his ear, into his lank hair, her fingers tightly grasping a handful of hair painfully, by the roots. She had stepped forward with her right foot as her right hand shot up. Right arm straight and locked out, she didn't hesitate, pivoting to her left, so her hips were squared, as she brought her arm down in front of her, forcing the startled man to bend at the waist.

Her left hand shot up to grasp the hair on the other side of his head, and she began backpedaling, feet shoulder-width apart, screaming, "DOWN ON THE GROUND! DOWN ON THE GROUND!" as she yanked forcefully on his hair, making him move with her to fall sprawled on the carpet. She moved so quickly and fluidly, it took her just over three seconds to put him on the floor.

She had bent at the hips, her arms and body angled down so that he couldn't reach out and grab her. She continued to tug on his hair, calling out orders that, in Snape's surprised state, he followed. "HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK! CROSS YOUR ANKLES!"

He did, his features twisted in pain and rage at how completely the damned witch had turned the tables on him. One moment she had been stroking him in a manner he found decidedly erotic, and now she had attacked him! The redhead had pulled a complete 180.

Still yanking harshly on his scalp, Shaluinn lifted his head and twisted his face toward her right, putting the right side of his face against the carpet. Her right hand remained on his head, her body balanced forward, so her weight was primarily on that hand. She drew her right foot around past his head and dropped to her left knee. Her right foot pressed against his right shoulder and the side of his neck, left knee tucked against his upper arm. Her left hand caught the fingers of his right, mashing them together painfully, as she sat back on her heel, flexing his hand, wrist and arm in an excruciating position.

Snape hissed and attempted to struggle. The redhead's only response was to wrench on his trapped primary wand arm. She was only degrees off of breaking his wrist, and he couldn't afford the injury at the moment. And so he subsided, mentally cursing at the predicament he found himself in. The sound of clinking metal caught his attention before he felt cold steel encasing his wrists, along with the clicks of ratcheting gears.

Shaluinn silently summoned the hinged handcuffs she'd used while employed as a prison guard. She caught them in her right hand, rotating them in her palm so she gripped them over the center hinge, palm down. She slapped the first circle against his right wrist, the cuff ratcheting up and around to enclose his joint. She used a finger from her left hand to firmly secure it, before repeating the process on his left wrist.

The cuffs bit into his skin painfully, closed too tightly. But Callaway didn't plan on keeping him in them long. She merely needed to make a point, and was silently thanking the gods that she had paid attention when her coworker, Wheeler, had given lessons in speed-cuffing.

Snape was cursing audibly now, the handcuffs fastened so tight he was losing feeling in his hands.

Callaway pivoted and grabbed his right forearm, urging him to his feet as she stood. Just as he regained his legs, she snapped a short kick into the back of his right knee, causing him to stumble. She pressed her advantage, slamming him up against the tall, thick window. Only then did she give voice to the rage coiling in her gut.

"Severus Snape, I presume. You match the description Dumbledore gave me. And who else would seek me out in such a manner?"

Severus' mind was whirling in confusion. What the ruddy hell is going on here? Who the hell does she think she is, treating me in such a manner? And what reason does she have to be angry? I'm the one being attacked! Inexplicably, he soon found he had the answer to that question.

"Was that fun? Did you enjoy watching me? Playing the voyeur? Oh, I saw your raven-self flitting out of the room when I turned around." Damn good thing my concealing glamour is set to extend to any exposed skin, or you really would have seen some interesting things. "Did you enjoy ogling me behind my back? Did you enjoy all the attention I gave your bird-form? All that touching and stroking. Did you..."

She cut off as the enraged wizard shoved her off and turned on her, the air literally crackling with energy around his seething form. The soft music playing in the background was an odd, ironic counterpoint to the proceedings.

Shaluinn fell to the ground as he pushed her off, rolling over her shoulder and back to her feet. She flexed both of her wrists and had her wands out in an instant, falling back in the same stance Firenze had witnessed, her wands pointed directly at the advancing, bound wizard.

Enraged didn't begin to describe the Potions master's agitated state. Any self-control he retained vanished in the wake of his cresting anger. A wordless howl emanated from his chest as he stalked toward the retreating redhead. He looked positively demonic, face red and expression twisted, hair flying out in all directions. When she darted behind it, he upended her couch with a well-placed kick, still screaming incoherently.

ShitfuckshitfuckshitfuckSHITFUCK!!!

Shaluinn was duly intimidated, having so grievously misjudged her opponent. True, he couldn't even utilize wandless magic, with his hands cuffed behind his back as they were, but he could most certainly physically assault her, as she had already done him. Not the brightest idea you ever had, girl. How to get out of this? How to get out of this? FUCK!

Snape roared at her again, this time screaming actual words. "RELEASE ME NOW!" His blazing eyes still on her, he twisted to present his side, his bound hands visible. It was more than obvious what he wanted her to do.

I already know I'm going to regret this. SHIT! Working as swiftly as she could, she cast "Alohomora!" at his wrists with both wands. She immediately followed this with two Shield Charms, casting a different one simultaneously with each wand. Thank God I can carry on two simultaneous trains of thought. Anticipating an imminent magical attack, she kept moving, alternating the Shield Charms she cast, trying to preempt whatever he threw at her. She wasn't prepared for the Curse he hurled at her.

The hinge-cuffs released from Snape's wrists with a satisfying pair of clicks, dropping to the carpet with a Thunk! He glowered at the American, as he brought his hands around and began massaging his wrists, coaxing the blood back into his extremities. He was gratified by the frightened display she put on, darting around the room in an attempt to evade whatever hex he threw her way. You wish this were merely a hex.

In one fluid movement, he withdrew his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at the redhead, intoning clearly, with confidence, "Crucio!"

Shaluinn barely had time to register his choice of attacks, her wands reintegrating with her forearms, her eyes wide, as she crumpled to the floor, having not thought to put up a shield against that, not that there even was one. Her body twitched and writhed, moving with the muscle spasms induced by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was, surprisingly, bearable. She couldn't stop her body's involuntary movements, but she could handle the mental stress.

After a year of enduring increasingly intense pain from her advancing illness, the Torture Curse was only somewhat worse than what she dealt with daily. It was bad, but not as bad as she'd expected. She kept her lips firmly pressed together, resolutely refusing to cry out, and give the bastard the pleasure of hearing her scream. Fuck you, Snape!

To say Severus was surprised by her reaction (or lack thereof) was an understatement. Gobsmacked was a better description. He stood over her writhing form, as not a single cry came from her. It was disturbing, the way she suffered in total silence. Everyone screamed. Everyone cried out in some manner, even he, who had endured it innumerable times. Who the hell is this witch?

"Finite Incantatem."

Shaluinn let out a sigh, curling into a ball on her side, arms wrapped around her midsection, facing him. She dared not turn away and expose her back. At least facing him, if he chose to kick at her, she had a shot at catching his foot and unbalancing him. Faced away, he could aim hits at her kidneys and spine, and she'd be unable to prevent them.

Snape stared down at her, his expression unreadable. This is not how this was supposed to play out.

"I suppose I kinda deserved that."

Her softly spoken words completely threw the wizard for a loop. Confusion was etched firmly across his features, as the first thing that came to his mind popped out of his mouth. "What?"

The American slowly, stiffly rolled to her hands and knees. She took several steadying breaths before repeating herself. "I suppose I deserved that," she murmured and lifted her head to meet his impenetrable gaze.

There wasn't even a hint of accusation in her voice. There was no anger present either. She said it like it was an incontrovertible fact, requiring no further analysis or discussion. Then, she smiled slightly. With that simple, honestly spoken, matter-of-fact statement, and subsequent smile, Callaway utterly disarmed the indomitable Potions master.

Severus returned his wand to his sleeve and offered the woman a hand.

Shaluinn took it, letting the wizard draw her to her feet, chuckling lightly. "Anyone ever tell you, you have an impulse control problem?"

Snape snorted, barely withholding a laugh. "And you are one to complain about such?"

Callaway arched one carefully manicured brow. "I believe that constitutes the pot calling the kettle black." She proceeded to look him up and down, giving him a frank appraisal.

Severus lifted one of his own brows in counterpoint. "Indeed."

Snape stood there, attired in his normal Professorial clothes, black from head to toe, right down to the billowing robes. He whipped these around himself, letting them swish and billow behind him as he strode over to the bank of windows and pivoted back to face the redheaded witch, gathering the fabric like a protective mantle. He glared openly as the American stifled a snicker.

Fuck it. I'm going to live up to the brash, ugly American stereotype as I just can't leave this bad "vampire impersonation" alone. "Uhm is all that robe-flapping supposed to be impressive and intimidating?" she asked, sarcasm lacing her tone.

The tall, raven-haired wizard sneered at the witch, his eyes narrowed to slits, but did not dignify her comment with a response.

She shook her head at him, arms crossed over her chest in a mockery of his posture. "Sorry, buddy, not even remotely scary."

He wasn't about to just stand there and take this. "The students seem to think it is," he sniffed, prominent nose in the air. Is she actually baiting me?

Shaluinn dropped her stance, arms spreading out in front of her as she spoke, still mocking, "There ya go! That must be it! I'm not a student. Therefore it doesn't work on me."

He sneered again. "Miss Callaway..."

"Who you callin' 'Miss'? That's Professor Callaway, as you should well know, Professor. No, Mister Snape, since you're no longer a teacher here," she tossed back.

"Clearly, you never learned to respect your elders. This is a waste of my time." He huffed dismissively and strode straight for the entrance.

"Elders?" Both her red eyebrows shot toward her hairline. "Hey, Fuckernut, I'm OLDER than you! Okay, granted it's only like six months, no, make that seven Time-Turner years and six months older, but... you're right."

That got his attention. Seven Time-Turner years? Wondering what the hell she was playing at, he turned back just shy of the entrance, one black brow rising, inviting her to elaborate, his posture still closed and defensive.

Like a switch had been flicked, Shaluinn felt herself losing her grasp on the situation and her emotions and knew she really couldn't afford to let this wizard just walk away. It was like watching a car wreck happen. You had no control and couldn't help but watch it happen. So, she just let it play out, praying her instincts were kicking her in the right direction.

"This is a waste of your time. And mine." She watched his brow drop and eyes narrow.

"Go ahead and leave. Then everything you and Albus have done will have been for nothing. His death will have been meaningless." Snape was still there.

She made shooing motions with her hands. "No, seriously, go! Walk on out of here like you are now, wearing your true face. I'll lay odds you don't make it out of the castle. Go on!" She was getting good and worked up, gesturing wildly when her hands weren't set on her hips. Caught by the same car wreck, he couldn't help but watch. "Why the fuck should I care? This is YOUR damn war, not mine.

"Yeah, my family was killed by a Death Eater, but I got more than a piece of him. I already took my 'eye for an eye.' Come on, Snape! Walk away from me. Walk out that door!" She pointed for effect. Shaluinn was into a full-blown rant. "I'll be right behind you because I'll no longer have ANY reason to be here. IT DOESN'T MATTER TO ME! If this whole fucking thing draws out long enough, I won't even live to see the end! So, what the fuck do I care?

"Make up your mind, Snape! You coming or going? Leaving or staying? Are you with me, with Albus, or are you so fucking selfish and bent on suicide, you'll throw away our last, best hope of ending this war sooner, rather than later: you. DECIDE NOW, BECAUSE I DON'T FUCKING CARE!!!" As she finished, a violent explosion was heard, as all the candles in the room, and the fireplace, suddenly burst into violent flame.

Snape took a half-step back from the visibly seething witch, his eyes widening slightly. He knew full well that the explosions had been caused by a powerful backwash of magic emanating from her. Pyromancer. The wards ingrained in the very stones of Hogwarts had taken the unfocused, unharnessed magic she had produced and channeled it into the least destructive outlet available.

I'm beginning to understand why Albus paired me with this... American. She must be a powerful witch indeed to gather and release that kind of magic with no exterior source. Her magic is clearly driven by her emotions. This could be very... interesting.

Shaluinn watched the raven-haired wizard considering her words. It hadn't been the most articulate outburst she'd ever produced, laced with profanity as it was, but she hoped she'd been able to get her point across. The magical backwash she'd let off had definitely captured his attention.

She'd done that unintentionally, forgetting as she got herself worked up what the inevitable result of her losing her temper would be. Her Pyromancy had ever been just barely under control, the power ebbing and rising with her emotional state. She was beyond grateful that the magic had been channeled as it had. Previous instances of her losing it like that had resulted in houses, and even an entire city block, going up in flames. As it was, she was pretty sure that a good quarter of the hearths in the castle had suddenly burst into flame.

He didn't have to like her, but he was going to have to work with her. Assuming he didn't just leave right now. Apparently coming to a decision, and making a concession to her earlier comments, the redhead was relieved to watch him shed his robe and hang it on the coat tree she'd placed by the entrance.

"Now, I believe I have something to show you."

"You believe?" The eyebrow went up again.

Shaluinn ignored the comment and moved down the length of the room, followed by the Potions master. Turning her back to the windows, she pointed to her left. "What do you see?"

"A door, why?"

"That fuckernut!"

"Pardon?" Two black brows soared toward his hairline.

"Not you. Albus." She shook her head. "Thank you! Up until this moment I thought I was the only one who could see it!" she said with obvious relief. "I was starting to think I was nuts."

"Indeed."

"Bite me. Every time McGonagall has been in here, she has behaved like it wasn't there. When I asked her the question I just asked you, she looked at me like I'd gone crazy and told me it was a blank wall."

"Ah."

Shaluinn glared openly at the Potions master who coolly returned her gaze, blinking innocently. A glint in her eye, a malevolent smile began to grow on her face. With a sweep of her arm, she offered, "After you, sir."

Snape narrowed his gaze at her again, before crossing his left arm over his chest and lifting his right hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was swiftly becoming aggravated with her extreme hot-and-cold mood swings.

Dropping his hand, he found she was still in the same position as before, that malicious smile plastered on her face. Sweet Merlin, Albus! What have you gotten me involved in? Relenting, he swept past her and into the room in question, lighting the braziers with a flick of his hand.

He froze on the threshold, eyes darting around the room, recognizing an extensive Potions lab in the process of being completed. He turned to the first shelf and began perusing its contents, reaching out with lithe fingers to lovingly caress a jar containing a particularly rare ingredient. His gaze snapped sharply back to the doorway as the American witch spoke to him, her expression one of suppressed delight.

"I had a sneaking suspicion you'd know just what to do with this room." She winked at him. "I'll leave you to it. If you get hungry, I'm having Dobby bring a late dinner up. The bathroom, water closet, whatever you Brits call it..." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "...is straight through there. And if I catch you going through my underwear drawer, I'll put a broadhead arrow in your ass."

She smiled then, a grin that lit up her eyes, and vanished out the open door, leaving an out-of-sorts Potions master in her wake. Is she normally this volatile, emotions swinging back and forth like a pendulum? Or is she putting on some kind of performance for my benefit? This American witch is a confusing contradiction of a mystery, wrapped in an enigma. But she is my only credible link to the Order. Turning his attention back to exploring the room, he relegated his misgivings about the redhead to the back of his mind.

TBC...

A/N: The move Shaluinn uses to take down Snape is an actual defensive tactic taught to Corrections Officers (prison guards) in Washington State. It's called a "two-hand hair-hold take-down." It employs speed, balance disruption, and pain compliance. It's designed to be effectively used by a smaller, weaker person (read female) against a much larger opponent. So it's realistic for this move to be successful against the larger-than-Shaluinn Snape. With the element of surprise, it is VERY effective.

Shaluinn being able to "handle" the Cruciatus Curse is also plausible in that everyone has different pain tolerance levels. Someone who has lived for an extended period of time in a constant state of pain would have a corresponding increase in their tolerance to other forms of pain. Physiologically what has happened is that it takes a greater/higher stimulus to cause the requisite nerves and neurons to fire and elicit a "normal" response. So she isn't in any less pain, her brain simply does not recognize and acknowledge the electrical pulses as a healthy, normal human's would. I work in a hospital Emergency Room and have seen this fact first-hand.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through the ups and downs and most importantly my beta, Kim, who is always there when I (finally) have an update.