Eleven

Many thanks to my beta, Soul Bound.

Professor McGonagall lifted her green robes so that they would not drag in the mud and quickly walked up the track, creating puffs of white smoke in the crisp morning air. She stopped to catch her breath, annoyed at her lack of fitness; the trees around her were black, still, silent and the ground hard with frost. Winter wants to come early this year, the professor thought quietly as she continued towards the hut. The trees gradually thinned, letting in more light, and she smelt the smoke of a nearby wood fire; she must be getting closer. When Severus had suggested moving Hermione here, away from the magic at Hogwarts, it had taken her a moment to work out what hut he was talking about. Professor McGonagall had quite forgotten it was even here. But then she had never been keen on traipsing about the Forbidden Forest, even in her younger days when she had been up for most things; it always had an ominously heavy feel about it.

The track opened up onto a grassy clearing, and the small wooden hut with its rickety porch sat bathing in the weak sunlight. Professor McGonagall noticed as she walked up the steps that the porch was swept, and there was a neat stack of firewood by the door. Harry had been busy. When she had asked him to help, he had smiled broadly, obviously pleased to finally have a job to do. Harry had not even questioned the oddity of the tasks, and when she had said not to use any magic, he had simply shrugged casually before charging off to ferret out some Muggle cleaning utensils.

Professor McGonagall paused at the door, wondering if she should knock. She listened but couldn't hear anything. So, worrying that she may disturb a sleeping Hermione, the witch gently pushed the door open and promptly stepped backwards, reeling. With her eyes streaming and a choking sensation in her throat, the professor quickly covered her nose and mouth with her robe. It was the same extreme magic she had felt in Hermione's room, but with at least ten times the intensity. Professor McGonagall was not even sure whether it was magic that was swirling and throbbing in the small room. Just as she had done before, the professor closed her eyes and slammed up her shields. The intensity lessened, but she still felt her stomach rolling in abhorrence and sweat trickling down her spine. It took several deep breaths through her robe to calm her body down enough to even be conscious of her surroundings. She reopened her streaming eyes and stepped warily through the door; it took a moment for her to adjust to the dimness of the room.

Severus was sitting on the far side of the room and nodded in acknowledgement of her arrival. How could the Potions master sit there seemingly unaffected by it? While she had always known that he was a powerful wizard, she had never known he was this strong. The witch was sure even Albus would have struggled. The black-robed wizard was sitting close to a low- lying bed where she assumed Hermione was. The wizard's sharp eyes followed her as she worked her way across the room. The magic swirled faster around her, becoming thicker and stronger the closer she got to them. Her shields starting to shake as the strange magic crashed in on them. Professor McGonagall had to stop mid-way across the room to reinforce them so that they were firm and strong again, despite knowing Severus was observing her closely. It was like wading through thick, grimy mud that was threatening to swallow her.

'Headmistress.' Severus stood and gestured deferentially for her to take his chair. He looked tired, but his eyes appeared even blacker and more penetrating than ever before.

'Severus,' whispered Professor McGonagall, and she nodded her thanks as she sat down.

The wizard moved to the other side of the cabin to where there looked to be a kitchen of sorts.

Hermione was lying on her stomach, her head to one side, with the bedding tucked in around her. Her hair had been pulled back away from the bandaging on her forehead. She looked awful...her colouring was wrong, and her dark eyes seemed too big for her face.

But the young witch looked up at her and smiled happily in greeting. 'Hi, Professor,' she croaked.

'Hello, Hermione. It is good to see you awake.'

'Yes, it's a bit of a surprise for me as well. I'm still sleeping absolutely loads, but I feel better.'

'The move went alright?'

'Yes, although I wasn't awake for any of it, thank goodness. I still feel tired, and my back is sore, but I can actually string sentences together again.'

'That is a good thing.' Professor McGonagall smiled.

'It's certainly useful.' Hermione returned the smile, but her face looked drained.

Severus came soundlessly beside her, and the professor only noticed because Hermione looked up at him. He was holding a goblet that smelt like a pain relief potion.

'Headmistress, I need to give Miss Granger her potion.'

'Of course, Severus.' Professor McGonagall stood up and almost swayed...so powerful was the peculiar magic pressing in on her.

'Oh, no.' The young witch did a theatrical sigh. 'I was just settling in for my first chat in days, Professor Snape.' Hermione's eyes were twinkling, and a grin threatened to burst across her face. 'Not that chatting with you wasn't engaging, sir.'

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, and she braced herself for a nasty retort from Severus. Years of living and working around actively hostile people had taken the Potions master's already bad temper and nasty tongue to previously uncharted depths. Foolish Hermione.... Nobody, absolutely nobody, bantered with this wizard, even if they were sick, without being chewed up and spat out. She thought the young witch would have known better.

But to her utter amazement, she saw his lips twitch slightly as he looked down at the young witch with an odd expression, saying something rapidly. It couldn't be the ancient language, could it? Yes, the professor caught a word or two, and it had the right sounds. In all her years of knowing the man, she had never known he could speak the ancient language, and she felt her jaw dropping. No wonder he was recruited as a spy; his ability to keep secrets astounded her beyond measure. Hermione rolled her eyes in response to whatever he said, but had a smile in her eyes and replied fluently back to him. The only words she recognized were 'my teacher.' Languages had never been her thing.

'Goodness me, that is a surprise,' muttered Professor McGonagall, and she forced her mouth to close with a clunk.

Severus and Hermione turned and looked at her, and the witch felt their eyes boring into the very depths of her soul, as if her magic as one of the most powerful witches in the wizarding world meant nothing at all to them. Then as one they both dropped their eyes from her, and she realized with a shudder that it had been but a second in time.

'Indeed, I'm sure it was,' replied Severus in an emotionless voice.

Professor McGonagall was too shaken to want to pursue this topic of conversation and just left it at that while scrambling to rebuild her shaken composure. She was not used to the feeling of utter powerlessness she had just experienced.

Severus moved the chair closer and gently helped Hermione to lift her head, holding the goblet while she drank. As Professor McGonagall watched, she thought to herself, he's done that before...that's a tricky maneuver, and he didn't spill a drop, nor did Hermione splutter once. The professor realized that she had learnt more about Severus in the last twenty-four hours than she had in the last twenty odd years of knowing him.

'I was wondering, Headmistress, if I might have a word,' he quietly asked, straightening as Hermione's eyes fluttered to a close.

'Yes, of course, Severus. I was hoping for an update at any rate,' replied Professor McGonagall blandly while mentally reinforcing her shields some more.

They moved across the hut to a small table near the door. Professor McGonagall glanced out the window and had a pang of longing to sit outside in the sunlight away from this swirling, disturbing magic.

'Would you like to sit outside on the verandah, in the sunshine, and I could make some tea?' Severus politely asked, as if reading her mind.

Professor McGonagall looked sharply at Severus, but he looked mildly back, waiting for her response. There was no way he could have read her mind; he had not even been looking at her when she had thought that...but still, it was most disquieting.

'Yes, that would be lovely. I have cleared my schedule to the shock of everyone, so yes, I do have time to sit in the sun this morning.'

Severus nodded and moved towards the kitchen to prepare the tea. There was no magic in this hut because of Hermione and of course there was no Muggle electricity, remembered the older witch.

Stepping out onto the verandah was like stepping back to normality, and Professor McGonagall happily shut the door behind her. Breathing in the cool morning air, she smelt the trees of the Forbidden Forest and heard the occasional bird. It was like the release of a huge weight that had been pressing down on her, and her heart rate dropped back down to within the normal range again. She glanced about and saw two battered outside chairs set back under the shade, but Professor McGonagall chose instead to sit in the sunlight on the edge of the porch with her legs dangling off the side. She took her hat off and leaned back on a post, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face. It was actually quite a nice spot, she thought, if you forgot about the miles of dark, menacing forest that surrounded it.

As the professor idly watched some black birds hunting for worms in the grass, she felt her shoulders slowly relax and the knot in her stomach unfurl. By Merlin's balls, what a horrible experience that had been. A young, inexperienced or even weak witch or wizard would not have been able to withstand that sort of magic...it had taken her to the uppermost limits of her powers, and that never happened nowadays. And what strange magic it was too.

She remembered when she had had her first whiff of that peculiar magic. The professor had gone with Athena and her family to a chanting night, as they often did, and she had first noticed the woman by how the people were behaving so deferentially towards her. The professor had been sitting next to her sister with one of her grand nephews on her lap and had felt her stomach rolling in revulsion. Professor McGonagall had been thinking it might have been the fish they had eaten for lunch when her sister had leaned across and whispered in her ear, 'Do you feel it too?'

'Do you think it was the fish?' she had asked.

Her sister had shaken her head and nodded in the direction of the woman. 'It's from her. One such as her very rarely visits, and it is only wizard-raised people like us who feel their magic this way.'

'You mean it is not the fish?'

'No, and I suggest you don't go any closer to her because I can tell you by experience it gets worse.'

Professor McGonagall had realized that the feeling in her stomach was more than bad food. It was as if the air around her was wrong. She had looked again over at the woman at the other end of the open-air compound. The dark woman was middle aged and had her black hair tied back in an intricate braid. But what made her stand out in this colourfully dressed crowd was her pitch-black robe that was tied in a most complicated way.

'Who is she?'

Her sister's normally open face had become uneasy, and she had hesitated as if not sure what to tell her. 'They hardly ever visit us, so I'm sure you won't feel it like this the next time we come.'

'But what is she?' she had asked again more insistently, almost rolling her eyes at her sister's feeble attempt to distract her.

Anthena had looked surprisingly unsettled and then, making up her mind, leaned in closer to her and spoke in quiet undertones. 'She is a member of the circle or an initiate...I'm not sure which...it's hard to tell them apart. They are never talked about. I don't actually know a lot about them myself, but they have rare powers.'

Because Professor McGonagall had been visiting the South on a regular basis for so long, she was no longer surprised to hear something as odd as this. Just when she felt she knew the place and its people, something strange and unexpected always turned up. But the witch knew from previous experience not to directly pursue the topic, as it would put her sister into an awkward position. Over the years, however, she continued to hear regular hints and oblique references to them and was surprised at how integral they were to the fabric of southern society.

The professor looked back down at her black shoes that she was hitting idly together, admiring how their green stitching matched her green robes. Now Severus, she mused, what a surprise he was. Being able to sit amongst that seething magic with no ill effect, speaking the ancient language fluently, knowing about Hermione's reaction to Hogwarts magic and his astonishing knowledge of the South. Professor McGonagall almost groaned out loud at how obvious it was. Somehow he had connections to the circle and had kept it quiet all these years.

Just then, the door opened. Severus came out with a tray, placed it carefully beside her and sat smoothly down. Magic had leaked out when Severus opened the door, and Professor McGonagall felt revulsion run down her spine that lessened once the door swung shut. The Potions master squinted in the sunlight and poured the tea. The witch realized there had only been a few times she'd seen him in direct sunlight. He was dressed in his normal black teaching robes. Just a moment... Had she seen him wear any other colour? Of course not...it had been the joke of the staff room for years, and then she thought about the black robed woman at the gathering all those years ago. How very interesting.

'Headmistress.' Severus passed the teacup over to her.

Right, better get her mind back to business, the professor thought firmly. 'So, tell me how Hermione is, first off.'

'The move using the Thestrals went well. Miss Granger remained stable throughout the journey, and it has not seemed to interfere with her healing. Since being here, even this short amount of time, Miss Granger's body is starting to heal itself with the help of the Muggle medicine and potions.' Severus took a sip of tea and continued, 'However, it is her injury on her back that is proving problematic.'

'How?' asked Professor McGonagall sharply, placing her cup back down on the tray. Her stomach still felt too uneasy to even think about drinking something.

'The problem is that it is a magically sourced eating type curse.'

'Normal magical healing charms still cannot be used?'

'Precisely.'

'Is her reaction to this curse any different because it is a magically sourced injury?' Professor McGonagall questioned carefully.

'Yes, it is moving a lot quicker than it should. I had hoped that by moving Miss Granger away from Hogwarts, it would slow down, but it has not. In fact the very opposite is happening.'

'What are our options then, Severus?' Professor McGonagall looked carefully at the wizard, hoping with all her heart that he had an answer.

The tall man looked down at his teacup. 'It is a difficult situation. If we leave it any longer, she will die as it eats into her vital organs.' He looked up appraisingly again at her. 'There is one other option, but it would require your utmost discretion.'

'Yes?' Relief washed over her. Discretion she could do, and of anyone, she knew this repulsively clever wizard would be able to come up with a solution.

'As you may have already worked out, Headmistress, I have had some dealings with the South and am somewhat familiar with the magic Miss Granger has become accustomed to.'

'I am aware now, yes, Severus,' the older woman replied evenly. She had millions of questions boiling away, but more than anything, she wanted him to be able to heal Hermione, even if that meant never having her questions answered.

'What I propose to do is use her type of magic to transform the flesh eating curse into a solid object, and then use Muggle medical methods to remove it from her back. By doing it this way, it circumvents the need to use healing charms.'

The professor nodded slowly, impressed with the unique approach. 'And you are proficient enough in both skills to perform this healing?'

Severus nodded grimly. 'It has been many years since I have performed this type of magic, but the necessary spell itself is actually a relatively straightforward one. But all the same, I will consult with Miss Granger to ensure it is done correctly. However, the second part I will need assistance with. I understand you visit your sister in the South on a regular basis.'

It was the first time Severus even acknowledged knowing about her sister in the South. The professor nodded slowly. 'If you are asking if I am able to perform tasks without my wand, then yes, I can. I have also been at the births of all my nephews and nieces and most of my grand nephews and nieces as well. So although I am no mediwitch, I am not put off by the sight of blood and am capable of doing mundane tasks without a wand.'

Severus turned to her, and for the first time in her life, she saw a flicker of warmth in his cold eyes. 'All I will ask of you, Headmistress, is that you aid me in the second stage. What I will be asking you to do is pass me instruments that I require. I simply will not have enough hands to do it myself.'

'And the first part?' the professor asked curiously.

'I doubt, Headmistress, that even you will be able to enter the hut. In fact, I must warn you that for the second part of the healing, the magic will still be present, and while it will have lessened in intensity, it will be stronger than what you experienced this morning. Do you still think you will be able to assist me, Headmistress? I do not ask this to challenge your power as a witch, but only because I will need to rethink how to proceed with the second part if you cannot.'

The older witch swallowed and looked down at her untouched tea on the tray. She remembered entering the hut this morning and visiting Hermione in her rooms and the types of shields she had scrambled to erect. But now that the witch had time, she could think of other methods of reinforcing her defenses, which would be more effective and less tiring. The Headmistress looked up at Severus and saw him looking at her steadily...again with a certain tinge of gentleness to his demeanor. 'Yes, Severus, I can assist you. When do you propose to do this healing?'

'This morning. We cannot wait, and I have everything prepared.'

The professor nodded solemnly in agreement; she had rather guessed as much. 'And Hermione, does she know what is to be done?

Severus nodded and glanced down at her. 'It was on Miss Granger's suggestion that I spoke the ancient language in front of you. Now, I need to consult with Miss Granger about the first part, and then I will go over what we are to do for the second part.'

+++++

Professor McGonagall felt a trickling of sweat down her forehead and quickly wiped it with the corner of her robe before it dripped into the bubbling green potion and ruined it. She continued to stir steadily in the prescribed figure eight movement and breathed in the smelly, sharp fumes puffing up from the cauldron. The witch was actually enjoying herself. It had been many years since she had had to make a Blood-Replenishing Potion from scratch, and Potions was a subject she had enjoyed while at school. At one stage, she had even contemplated taking it further, but was quickly discouraged by her family as an unsuitable choice of occupation. Professor McGonagall looked assessingly at the potion and was pleased with the colour, smell and consistency. The witch, taking a rag in both hands, heaved the cauldron onto a nearby bench.

The professor heard a door from the hut open, so she quickly covered the cauldron and left the small cooking shed for the hut. She felt nervous and hoped that the first part had gone well for Hermione. Then, remembering what she was entering into, she put all her formidable strength into building her shields, making sure she threaded protective strands through them.

Severus' pale face appeared at the door and quickly nodded at her before disappearing back inside. Professor McGonagall breathed in deeply and stepped into the room, feeling the impact of a huge weight on her shields; it was as if the magic was testing them, seeking out holes or any weaknesses to exploit. Her shields heaved and strained but withstood the onslaught and remained strong; she glanced up and saw Severus looking at her with a frown, so she nodded to him to indicate she was all right. Hermione was laid on her stomach on a small, narrow bed in front of the fire, and by her stillness, she was obviously sedated. There was a light blanket covering her lower body, but her slim back was exposed. Beside her were three trolleys with an array of instruments and potions on them. The professor moved to the kitchen and scrubbed her hands with soap, rinsing them in a bucket of clean water. She put on a pair of surgical gloves and moved back towards Severus.

It was only then that she noticed what Severus was wearing. It was a black robe tied in a complicated manner, although it was clearly worn in a southern style. His shoulders and chest stood out startling white in their nakedness, but it was the ease with which he moved with it on that told her his familiarity with wearing the garment. The professor moved to the wizard's side and looked down at Hermione's lightly tanned back. The wound on her lower back, although not big, looked like it was starting to fester. The professor recognized the fading jagged lines radiating outwards from the wound as the remnants of the flesh-eating curse.

'How did it go?'

'Well. Miss Granger is completely sedated, and we need to remove the object quickly now. I am neither sure what material the curse has materialized as nor how deeply it is wedged.'

Severus leaned in to examine the wound closely, probing it with his gloved fingers.

Professor McGonagall examined the utensils carefully on the tray so she could easily reach for them when asked. The witch looked back at the wound on Hermione's back, and even within this short amount of time it had reddened some more. Severus wiped the wound with what smelt like an antiseptic lotion.

'Do you know how large the object is, Severus?'

'No. Could you please hold both sides of the wound open while I try and locate it.'

Professor McGonagall nodded and, using tweezers, held the skin gently apart, exposing the red flesh of the wound that was oozing out blood.

Severus picked up a pair of small tongs, delicately inserted them into the wound and after a moment of careful prodding said, 'Yes, I can feel something; it is not too deep, thankfully.'

Very slowly, he pulled out a long, bloodied stick of metal and held it up to scrutinize it carefully. Professor McGonagall looked at Severus and saw relief in his eyes, but quickly turned her attention to mopping up the blood that had came pouring out of the wound with the metal. She then wiped an antiseptic solution all about the wound again while Severus threaded a needle and started neatly stitching the wound up. When he had finished, he looked at her and let out a sigh. She smiled back in unspoken agreement.

'So this is now considered a non-magical injury?' she asked all the same.

'Yes, it will now heal normally,' he stated with satisfaction in his voice.