The Lovers Curse

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The Lovers Curse

~Spring 1977~

Severus walked to the tower room retreat, seeking the serenity he usually felt while up there. The party had been exactly what Lily had said it would be, but she was completely wrong about the wizards who had shown up. Yes, there had been much talk about the Dark Lord and his philosophy, even about his designs to bring Wizardkind out from under suppression. But his goal was simply to get Wizardkind to come out of hiding. This kind of talk was common in Slytherin. Yes, there were wizards who seemed only interested in those of his house that believed in it, too, and they had pulled them aside to talk. He'd seen Rosier and Avery pulled aside several times, and there were wizards who had been interested in Severus as well. Quite a few of the men had been very interested in his Potions abilities and his skills with the Dark Arts. Severus had been introduced to several of the wizards by Malfoy or Lestrange. Truthfully, Severus had liked the group of influential and powerful wizards who'd shown up and couldn't help but listen to what they had to say.

Lily was standing in the room when he opened the door, and she turned to face him with her hands on his hips. "What do you want?" she asked accusingly.

"I just came up here to see the view – to think," Severus replied.

"Oh, I bet you have," she snapped at him. "You came up here to see me, didn't you?"

"No, I had no idea where you were," he replied, hurt by her sharp tone. You stopped coming up here in the mornings, not me. I'm usually here, every morning before dawn. He didn't want to fight with her. "Look, you've trying to been avoid me since the last Hogsmeade weekend, and when we do talk, you're distant. Why?"

"You know why," she said angrily, crossing her arms.

"No, actually, I don't," he said, crossing his arms, looking at her and trying desperately to control his emotions.

"I hate it that you broke our date to go hang around with them," she said with a sweep of her hand toward the window.

He knew exactly whom she was referring to. "It was just a party," he said, for what had to be the hundredth time.

"Really? That's not what I heard. Janice Lansing said her brother was there," Lily stated.

Severus remembered him. That tall bloke, stocky – excellent at Transfiguration.

"She told me what was going on, and she didn't like it. She said it was a recruitment party for You-Know-Who."

He wondered what else she had heard. "It was a group of powerful, influential wizards from some of the oldest wizarding families in the country and a chance to meet them." He stepped closer to her and she backed away. "Lily, when I graduate I want to pursue a master in Potions. I met a wizard, Mr. Kennington, who will introduce me to Master Ogden."

"I'm happy for you," she stated, turning for the door. "You'll be well connected, I'm sure."

"Lily, I love you. I want to work things out. I want to protect you," Severus confessed, trying to stop her from leaving.

Lily's eyes seemed to change, she simply gaped at him, and her expression reminded him of someone who'd just snapped out of the effects of a spell. She was momentarily speechless, her mouth dropped open, and her eyes became huge. He waited for her to respond, feeling a sense of dread deep in his gut. After several heartbeats, she looked as if the reality of what he'd said had finally hit her. "You what? You love me?" she said, her voice an octave higher than normal. "Did you just say that you love me?"

"Yes, I love you. I always have," he said. His chest suddenly felt very heavy as he watched as her lips formed a sneer.

"Yet you are joining these parties, associating with wizards that are rumored to be associated with You-Know-Who. And you hang around Mulciber, Avery and Rosier all the time!" she said, frustrated and angry. "You are fascinated with the Dark Arts, just like they are! Your so-called friends spout this pureblood nonsense all the time, call me and my friends Mudbloods – and you just stand there! You don't correct them or stand up to them or anything! They hate me, Sev. Not just dislike me – they hate me, and only because of who my parents are."

"I retaliate. I get even for you," he said, knowing she was right.

"Yet you hang around with them!" she said, her eyes flashing angrily. "You could choose other friends!"

His hand curled into a fist as it fell to his side. "They are friends. Just like you claim that Lupin is your friend. For all I know you are hanging out with Potter and Black now."

"And what if I am? At least they don't use the Dark Arts to hurt people," she said, standing her ground.

"Oh, no? They hurt or torment people just to amuse themselves. They hurt me all the time," Severus sneered. "And you know I'm not the only one they pick on! They're bullies!"

"They simply use hexes and jinxes. It's not the same," she replied defiantly.

"Isn't it?" he asked. He couldn't believe she was still defending them.

Lily looked at him in the eyes. "You're always fighting with them. Can't you just find a truce with Potter and Black?"

"No, Lily, I can't. If you recall, they always start it. Potter and Black have tormented me ever since that first day on the train and on any given opportunity since. I hate it that you still want me to cower from them when Potter and Black are the ones that draw wands first. I am not a coward." Severus seethed, but managed to keep his voice even, even though he flexed and clenched his fingers. "And I don't like seeing you in a relationship with Lupin. He's dangerous, even if you refuse to see it. I hate seeing you associating with Potter, Black and Pettigrew. I know you have been. I saw you with them by the lake. Don't deny it."

"I'm not. Yes, I was talking to them down by the lake," she said, not bothering to deny it. "As you keep pointing out when I complain about Mulciber, Avery and Rosier – Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew are in my house. Occasionally, I have reason to talk to them. Merlin, you are impossible. If you insist on staying friends with Mulciber, Avery and Rosier, then we are through. I just can't be with someone who would choose friends that go out of their way to hurt me like they do."

"And what about Potter and Black, eh?" he asked angrily. "You tell me to drop my friends for you, yet you're associating with them!"

"I was never their friend! I don't associate with them except when I have to in class, simply because they were mean to you. I avoided them because I didn't like how they treated you. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should have," she spat at him and turned. She pulled open the door and ran away crying.

Bloody hell! The door allowed her to leave! She simply walked out – and the door opened for her! Severus stood staring at the door in disbelief. The words above the door had changed. It now read: Amoris Aeterna Devotio Spreta Reiectaque Dolorem Aeternum Parit. Severus stared at the words, its meaning embedded in his mind. No! He quickly ran down the stairs after Lily. But he'd delayed too long. She was nowhere in sight.

~Spring 1997~

As soon as Hermione opened the door and saw Severus at the window, she rushed over, throwing her arms around his neck. Since their last time up in the tower, Hermione had been back, several times, seeking the quiet of the room, but also hoping to see him again.

"You're back," he said, nearly accusingly.

"So are you," she replied, sliding her fingers through his hair.

"Why?" he asked as his lips brushed against hers. "You know the consequences."

Hermione closed her eyes and savored his kiss before answering him. "So do you. I wanted to come up here to think," she said, moving his hair aside so that she could trail kisses along his jaw line. His sharp intake of breath emboldened her. "I also wanted to see you."

"Really?" he asked as his arms encircled her waist. Hermione leaned back and began opening his buttons. "What are you doing?"

"Undressing you. For someone so brilliant, you are acting right thick," she replied as her fingers trailed down. She got as far as his waist and then started on his shirt buttons. "You have way too many buttons."

He cleared his throat, and she looked up, smiling as she realized he'd been watching her. "If you are through playing," he said when she tried to push him back.

"Not at all," she replied, fumbling with his belt.

He laughed softly and then grabbed her hands when she'd opened his trousers. "Anxious, are we?"

"Don't, let me," she implored, pulling her hands free of his grip. His trousers fell to the floor, and she finished the buttons on his shirt, sliding his clothes off his shoulders, baring his body to her gaze.

"My turn," he said with a feral grin. Hermione felt her bra strap give as he pulled her jumper over her head, dumping it on the floor next to his clothes. "So which shall it be then, the windowsill or should I simply shag you on the floor?" he asked, kicking his feet free of his boots.

"Are you tired of windowsill?" she asked, teasingly.

"No, tired of the floor," he replied as he pulled her to follow him to the window. Hermione pushed him down to sit and straddled his hips. She cupped his face, brushed his hair back and kissed him. His arms curled around her, pulling her tightly onto his lap as he kissed her back. She could feel his penis press at her, and she rubbed herself against him. "Stop that," he growled.

She laughed at him and wiggled in his lap again, stroking him with her jeans-clad crotch. "Stop what?"

He pushed her off his lap fumbling with the snaps of her jeans. "I like you in skirts, they're easier."

She smiled, her fingers making trails and swirls on his skin as he tugged her jeans and knickers down. "And I like you in anything," she replied, lifting up one foot, then the other to help him. She ignored his indication to straddle his hips again and slunk down to her knees, playfully swirling her fingers on his thighs, stroking his soft sac, feeling the two lumps inside.

His eyes closed as she stroked him, and she bent forward, kissing and sliding her tongue on the soft skin. His harsh intake of breath made her smile. She caressed, sucked and licked his sac, smiling as he squirmed under her ministration. She trailed her tongue to his tip and covered his penis with her mouth, sliding her fingers down as she moved her head. His hand stroked her hair, not really applying pressure but sensually caressing her in rhythm to her movements.

After a short while, he gasped. "No, stop," he breathed sharply, lifting her off him. "You'll undo me, stop." She smiled as she followed his lead and straddled his hips. "I don't deserve you," he said as his mouth found hers.

"Why ever not?" she asked innocently.

He groaned before answering. "I'm too old – you're too young... A thousand reasons."

"That's only two." His penis poked at her, begging for entrance. "No, you're not – and I don't care." She rubbed herself against it, feeling it jerk with each stroke. "I want you in me," she whispered, straining to find the right angle to make him enter her.

"As you wish," he replied, cupping her hips tightly, adjusting her position, and entered her. She arched her back as he filled her. "Circe, you feel good," he moaned as she slid down on him.

"Yes," was all she could think to say in response. His soft laugh as she began to move on him made her smile in return. Soon she was gasping, grabbing onto him, trying drive herself down on him with each of his upward thrusts. She felt her release coming, her vaginal muscles clamping down as she gripped her legs tight against his hips. He stood up, making them tumble onto the floor onto a huge mattress that he'd conjured for them. He repositioned himself and entered her again, and she arched her back as he filled her. Several minutes later, another wave rolled through her. She cried out his name, arched into him and pulled him down to her.

"Gods, you are tight," he growled as she gave into her release.

As her climax ebbed, his seemed to overtake him, his body plunging into her in hard thrusts with each of his grunts. "Hermione, my – oh, Mother of Merlin – Hermione!" he groaned. He was sweaty, his hair falling forward, nearly concealing his face, and Hermione pushed it aside to watch him. "Circe, I think I'm falling in love with you," he said as his face distorted in orgasmic bliss. "I do... I love you. Merlin, I love you," he said, his body going limp as he collapsed on top of her.

Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth dropped open. "What did you say?" Hermione lay there unmoving, trying to grasp what she'd just heard. He pushed up, staring at her, and his dark eyes became hard. She knew she must look like some dunderhead, gobsmacked guppy, but the reality of his confession just kept repeating in her mind. It was as if everything had suddenly become clear to her, like the effect the Mind-Clarity Potion should have given her. She simply stared at him in utter disbelief.

Severus watched her face, his dark eyes actually getting darker. "Nothing," Severus dropped his head on her shoulder and groaned. "I shouldn't have... I apologize."

"You love me?" she asked, oblivious to his apology. Hermione had no idea what to say. Her mind reeled as his words echoed in her head. She didn't even know that he cared for her that way, let alone that he was beginning to love her. She thought it was the spells on the room that had made them become intimate. The best she'd dared hope for was that they were becoming close, lovers yes, but she didn't know that he'd developed any feelings for her. She had fallen for him, she was certain of it, but she'd been preparing herself for heartache when they found a way to break the spells and he wouldn't want to see her again. The idea that he could love her in return left her befuddled and nearly speechless. "Did you say you love me?"

He looked up at the door, got up quickly and grabbed his clothes. "I shouldn't have," he said angrily.

"Shouldn't have what exactly?" she asked, confused as he stood up and moved away from her. "Severus..."

"Done this! Any of this..." he snarled, heading for the open door. "It's completely wrong..."

"No, wait," she tried to say to his retreating bum, only to find herself staring at the door. Above the doorway, the words in the stone changed, and she rose, standing before the door. Amoris Aeterna Devotio Spreta Reiectaque Dolorem Aeternum Parit... She knew Latin well enough to translate the individual words. Love's enduring promise turned away, refused, begets an everlasting sorrow. What the...? No! It can't be...

~ Spring 1977 ~

Severus had all the right books with all the right spells marked with small slips of parchment. He was sure of that. He stared at his sketch of the tower: the lower room, the stairs, the tower room and the secret entrance, all labeled and the spells identified as best as he could determine them to be. There has to be something I'm missing. Allurement, Enticement, Seducement and Ensnarement Charms, but these charms cannot make someone love you. Not even potions can make someone love you. But things were going so well in the tower. How did the tower forsake me?

He tried to remember the Bloody Baron's words. The Baron warned me to stay away, warned me not to speak of my affections to Lily in the room. He said that sorrow was what I would get. I would do better unrequited and in sorrow – which is what the words said over the door. But if my true love isn't Lily, if she isn't my true heart's intended – who is? 'Your heart shall be broken and you shall waste away in mourning...' Okay, I've got to find the Baron.

Finding a ghost when you wanted one wasn't as easy as it seemed. However, it was Peeves who told Severus he could find the Baron on the Astronomy Tower. "I need you to tell me what happened. I want to know why you put the spells on the tower and what happened in there," Severus said, coming to a halt in front of the ghost.

The Baron looked at him as if seeing into his very soul and then sighed. "I cursed the room because I thought to win the hand of my love, only she didn't love me as much as I loved her. That room will entrap you and hold your soul."

Severus tried to make his expression as desperate as he could. "Please, tell me what happened. I need to know."

The Baron hovered backward a moment, then sat down on one of the benches. Severus quickly sat down next to him and waited. "I was asked to go and bring back the daughter of a friend. The girl was a beautiful, intelligent young witch whom I'd known since I was young and loved dearly. She lived in the castle with her mother, but she had run away. The request was a favor, but I was honored to have been asked. It gave me an excuse, you see," the Baron began.

He told Severus about how he tracked down his one true love, the woman he wanted above all others. But when he'd found her, she refused him, refused to return with him, so he stunned and bound her, and brought her back to her mother. "Her mother was ill and dying. She was lying very still when I brought her daughter to her, but she was only sleeping, a deep sleep. Nevertheless, Helena thought her mother to be dead. She was distraught and ran. She ran to her tower room. I thought, this is my last chance, so I asked her again, thinking that the spells I'd cast on the tower room would work in my favor as they had so successfully aided me in my courtship of her. They didn't," the Baron said with regret.

"When I confessed to her that I loved her, she suddenly seemed to be released by the spells as if awoken from a dream. She refused me – refuted my offer of marriage – my pledge of love. My heart broke, but my pride, oh my pride..." He turned away from Severus, his eyes glistening as if he would shed tears. It was most disconcerting to see such remorse. "I killed her," he said as if speaking to the wind rather than Severus. When the ghost turned to look at him again, there were sliver tracks down the opaque cheeks. "These chains I wear are my penance for killing her. How I hate these chains, but wear them I must for eternity."

"How did you die?" Severus asked, hoping he didn't sound too insensitive.

The Baron pulled up his sleeve. "I tried to slit my wrist, but I was too weak willed. The cuts were not deep enough. In the end, death came when I fell on my knees to hold Helena, my ladylove, one more time. I slipped on her blood, and my knife pierced my flesh." He opened his coat, and there was a wound, a deep gash just under his sternum. "The blade was true, even if I was not. I heard her scream, heard her curse me for dying with my arm around her. I opened my eyes and realized that our faces close enough to kiss, so I sat up to console her, not realizing I was pulling out of my corporeal body until it was too late. She ran away from me, and I followed her, but she will not speak to me, not once all these years. I've never been able to tell her that I am... She will not allow me to beg for her forgiveness. Not that I expect her to ever give it to me."

"But what about the spells on the tower? Did this happen in the tower?" Severus asked, but the Baron was floating away through the door.

~ Spring 1997 ~

Severus's last reaction bothered Hermione a great deal. Did I do something wrong? No. It was good right up to... when he told me he loved me. But why did he get so angry? Was he disappointed in me for not telling him – for behaving like a twit? I still can't believe that he just confessed that he loved me – and then ran off... Why did he leave? Hermione was sitting up in bed, flipping through the pages of a book she'd found misplaced in the Ancient Runes section of the library. The text was very old and written in the romantic courtly love style with loads of thees, thus, thous and therefores. Hermione had been reading a love poem when her mind drifted and she'd started thinking about Severus again. The poem was poorly written in both rhyme and prose, but it was a heartfelt poem to a woman of immense beauty, charm, intelligence and worth.

Hermione looked at the illustrated letter in the top left corner of the page and admired the intricate detail and scrollwork. They just don't make books like this in the Muggle world anymore. Magic books are so much more beautiful. Suddenly, Hermione noticed something in the detail of the drawing. She pulled out her wand and carefully magnified the illustration. The words, Amoris Aeterna Devotio Spreta Reiectaque Dolorem Aeternum Parit appeared. Love's enduring promise turned away, refused, thus begets an everlasting sorrow..."

Hermione flipped the pages to check what year the book was published. 1968! Madam Pince used her spells to copy and preserve this book. It has to be! Hermione began reading the spells in the book, suddenly aware that many of the Dark Art Charms indicated in the book were actually the same spells in the books in Severus's office. Several pages later, the scrolls and vines in the margins and along the bottom of the page were once again twisted and convoluted. The poem this time was about lamenting over a refuted love, an unrequited passion for a woman the author couldn't have... The Grey Lady! Or maybe another man hurt by the spells of the tower room.

*

Luna came running up to Hermione before lunch. If you still want to speak to the Grey Lady, I know where she will be."

"Yes, Luna, I do," Hermione said enthusiastically.

"She's in the library now," Luna stated. "Be sure to address her formally. She's really quite proper."

Hermione thanked Luna, quickly grabbed a roll, an apple and cheese from the table and told Harry and Ron she was going tot the library. The Grey Lady was sitting in a chair reading a book when Hermione entered. Hermione took a deep breath and approached the ghost. "Pardon me, is this seat taken? May I join you?"

"Certainly," the Grey Lady said as she looked up and indicated the empty chair with her hand. "Did you come here to see me?"

"Yes, I did," Hermione admitted. "I wondered if I could ask you about what happened in the tower. I don't mean to be offensive or intrusive, or anything, but you were lured up to the tower, too. Except you didn't fall under the spells. You're right, I have, and I'm trying desperately to break them. Please tell me what happened. Help me..."

"I don't think I can help you. I'm not sure if I tell you that it will help," the ghost replied sadly.

"Then may I ask you, when you were alive, was the tower room called Raven's Roost?" Hermione asked softly. "Did you know Rowena Ravenclaw?"

"Yes. I knew Rowena Ravenclaw – she was my mother," the ghost said softly. "Helena. When I was alive, my name was Helena," she added after a long pause. "The room at the top of the tower was mine."

"So, you were a student, then?" Hermione asked.

"I lived in the castle as a little girl. I never felt that I lived up to my mother's expectations." The Grey Lady paused and closed the book. "When I had been a student, I knew that when I grew up I wanted to teach, like my mother. However, she didn't feel I would be a good teacher. She wanted more for me than that. But my mother did make me one concession – I was allowed to consider prospective suitors and to marry whom I wanted. You see, the Baron had asked for my hand, and my mother approved of the match. However, I didn't want to marry the Baron, so he put the spells there to trap me into marrying him; therefore, I didn't trust him."

"But in your time, you said that marriages were arranged," Hermione said, confused. "Why would he go through all that trouble to curse your room?"

"Baron Blenkinslop was an arrogant and wealthy landed Baron who was insistently persistent. Irritatingly so. Nevertheless, my mother greatly admired him and happily approved of him as a suitor. She wanted me to marry him," the pretty ghost explained. "You see, he was too enamored with me – even obsessed. I spurned his advances. I told you this before. When I found out what he did, I refused to return to the room, moving back into the dormitories with the other girls."

"But that didn't stop him, did it?" Hermione asked, enthralled by Helena's tale.

"No," Helena replied. "But I missed my tower room and the view I loved so much. I wanted to remove the spells and couldn't. So, I took something of my mother's – something I shouldn't have – hoping I could use it to break the spells. When my mother was looking for who stole it – I fled... This was ages ago. But then my mother became ill, fatally ill I was told, and she sent the Baron to find me so that she could see me one last time. At least that is what he told me. I never liked Baron Blenkinslop," she said, laying the book down on the table. "However, I thought it was another trick, much like the trickery he'd used to my favorite room, Raven's Roost, my tower room."

"The Baron had always had a violent temper, possessive nature, been jealous and very much into the Dark Arts. He bound me and dragged me back to the castle, but it was too late, or so I thought. I thought my mother dead when I was brought to her – when I saw her lying there... I..." A thick opaque tear slid down her cheek, and she delicately wiped it away. "So, I fled up to my tower – I didn't think as I ran. He followed me and cornered me. He confessed his love for me in that tower room, but I refused him, again, venomously, and he stabbed me. I died in that room..."

"The Baron you mean, the Bloody Baron killed you?" Hermione asked, saddened by the tale.

The Grey Lady lifted the side of her cloak, and there just above where her heart would have been was a gash, a hole in her chest. "When he saw what he'd done – when I fell on the floor of my beloved room – he was overcome with remorse. Stricken with grief, he took the weapon that he'd used to kill me and slit his wrists, and then stabbed himself. He fell next to me. I was appalled to have his lifeless body lying so, cradling mine, so I moved away from him. I cursed him, yelled at him, to no avail. He sat up out of his body, a ghost, and began to plead my forgiveness. That was when I realized I had become a ghost, too, a mere apparition of myself, so I fled. I left him there."

"But what happened?" Hermione asked, enthralled by the romantic and tragic story.

"My mother heard that I had returned, and even frail that she was, she came to find me... She found our bodies in my tower room. My mother brought our bodies down the stairs, but she tripped and fell. She used the last of her strength to conceal the door to the tower, hide half of the stairs that led up to my room from sight, and the archway that led to them. I tried to console her, but she had drained the last of her power into the tower and fell at my feet." She was crying now, silvery, opaque tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "I could do nothing but wail over her dead body. I could not hold her or comfort her in her last moments as she bled out. The Baron, he wanted to console me, but I turned and cursed him, yelled at him and blamed him for what happened. I've not spoken to him or any Slytherin since."

"Your blood, his blood and your mother's?" Hermione gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "The spells of the room are sealed in your blood – the blood of all of you – the last essence of the life blood of all three..."

"I suppose so," Helena said sadly, rising to leave. "That was and is considered Dark Arts – I've never been into the Dark Arts."

"But the door to the tower, why was I able to find it if your mother concealed it?" Hermione asked, having more questions now that she knew the truth.

"The door appears to those who have found a way into my tower. Once you have been in the tower, the door will appear to you," the Grey Lady said, turning to go. "I don't know why. I cannot help you. Please, I... I'm sorry." She floated away, and Hermione watched her go, feeling sorry for the ghost.

*

Hermione cornered Severus in the corridor outside his classroom. "I need to talk to you."

"Not now, Miss Granger, I've a class to teach," he refuted her, trying to sidestep her.

Hermione blocked his path again. "Please, sir, hear me out," she pleaded.

"No," he said, taking her by the arm and shifting her aside. "Now, go." His dark eyes almost looked haunted as if with deep sorrow.

"I know what happened," she said, opening the book in her hands to show him the page.

"As do I," he sneered. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for accosting me in the corridor and another twenty for making me late for my class." He started to walk away.

"Amoris Aeterna Devotio Spreta Reiectaque Dolorem Aeternum Parit," she read aloud, not caring who would hear her. "Love's enduring promise turned away..."

Severus turned around, staring at her in shock. "What did you say?"

"It's a Blood-Bound Binding Curse." Hermione stepped closer to him and showed him the book. "This is a Binding Spell, a Dark Arts Curse I believe. It binds a spell to another spell and adds its effects to it, creating a double effect. The Grey Lady told me she'd bound her spells to those of the Bloody Baron's. I believe Rowena Ravenclaw did the same when she tried to seal the tower. I believe the spells were sealed in their blood. During your lecture on Blood Curses, if the caster adds their blood with the curse, it can last for life – in this case – the life of the castle."

"I know what Blood-Bound Curses are, Miss Granger. They are the darkest of the Dark Arts," he sneered. "It's why all books on the subject are kept in the Restricted Section!"

"But look at the illustration. See the vine? It's written in the vine. Amoris Aeterna Devotio Spreta Reiectaque Dolorem Aeternum Parit: Love's enduring promise turned away, refused, begets an everlasting sorrow. I saw these words above the doorway. They appeared just after you left. I felt this sense of dread deep in my gut, like my heart was shredding, and these words appeared."

He stared at her, unmoving, his dark eyes locked on hers. He crossed his arms while holding the edges of his robes as if to protect himself from her. "Now is neither the time nor the place to discuss this. You will be in my office immediately after dinner. Bring that book." He turned to leave, then paused. "Forty points to Gryffindor for your diligence in your research, Miss Granger. Now I suggest you get to your down class before you lose those points for being late."

~ T B C ~>

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Author's Notes:

Latin words I used were borrowed from: http://catholic.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl and corrected by HannahSmith. Thank you, Hannah, for the help. I don't know Latin and do appreciate the help in getting it right.

Amor = love

Aeterna = eternal

Devotio = devotion; oath; sacrifice (to the gods). I like this word here because of the double meaning of devotion and promise.

Spreta = 'scorned'. This is the word that Vergil uses in his

Aeneis for his famous scorned woman, than whom hell knows no greater fury,as we all know; so it means exactly what you want here.

Reiectaque: -que just means 'and'; links a word to the previous one. 'reiecta' = rejected

Aeternum = eternal

Dolorem = accusative (= object) of 'dolor' (nominative = subject),'grief'

Parit = from 'paro' = begets, brings forth, produces, creates