No dobra… Ostrzeżenia:
1. To jest dłuugie
2. To jest po angielsku
3. I jest pogięte jak nie wiem. Sama się dziwię, że coś takiego pojawiło się gdzieś na styku moich neuronów. Jeśli znacie moje wcześniejsze „cuda” to znajdziecie sporo podobieństw, ale i wiele różnic.
O czym to będzie:
1. Jak zwykle, głównym bohaterem jest Mistrz Eliksirów, który ma „lekkie” problemy ze swoim „Szefem”, Ślizgonami, Harrym i przede wszystkim ze swoim przeznaczeniem i pochodzeniem. Mury zamku, w którym się urodził, kryją wiele tajemnic, a jedna z nich jest prawdziwe przeznaczenie Severusa – i kto założył Zakon (i po co).
2. Ślizgoni dają popalić (SSSS czyli Snape’s Slitherin Spying Society – a kto lepiej pasuje do tej roboty niż przebiegły Ślizgon?) Kiedy Drako (nie, nie słodziutki mały Drako... Przeznaczeniem Drakona jest krew. Mały, bardzo niebezpieczny Smok) pakuje się w kłopoty, Snape zaczyna podejrzewać, że Lord...
3. Harry – Trouble Boy jak zwykle ma kłopoty. Co więcej, jest wplątany (jak zwykle) w kilka przepowiedni, które nikomu się za bardzo nie podobają (Zwłaszcza Trzecie Drzwi...)
4. Jednorożce pakują się we wszystko (i co ma do tego Magia Krwi), ktoś uwolni kilka demonów i co do tego ma Feanor (i kim był naprawdę.) Wampirzyca przepowiada przyszłość, Czarne Słońce nie daje nikomu spokoju (i trzeba je znaleźć, a sposób nie jest hmmm.... przyjemny) a w ogóle Ciemność nie uznaje żadnego władcy – i dlaczego z tego powodu Czarny Feniks i Tom Riddle będą walczyć o Pierścień Mocy – i po co w to wszystko wtrąci się Harry... OK., ful dziwnych stworzeń, zaklęć i przedmiotów.
Zostaliście uprzedzeni. Aha, kontakt do mnie (piszcie, co o tym myślicie):kajzar@poczta.onet.pl
Naja Snake
No, to jedziemy...
DARK PHOENIX
MERLIN’S GIFTS
NOTE: text in * * means the language of Fire Unicorns.
July 15th
Snape’s POV
“CRUCIO!”
The curse hits me again. I can see nothing but a purple fog, my bones are on fire, my skin is ripped off my flesh… Luckily, it’s the last time today. That’s my penalty – five curses every meeting, every curse lasting a whole, endless, cruel minute, till it makes a hundred. One hour forty minutes of Cruciatus. Not a second less.
“Get up, you scum!” – he barks, kicking me in my, already injured, ribs. Easier said than done but I am strong like seven hells. That’s the only good thing Aurors and my “Master” have taught me – how to endure pain and humiliation, how not to break, never, no matter what they are doing to you. Mother, I cursed you thousands of times for the way you brought me up, I cursed all my ancestors back to the first ones who started this madness fifteen centuries ago or so but now I bless you all. I bless my bloody family, I bless the grim castle I was born in. Thanks, all of you, semi-devils. You prepared me to endure everything. Well, I take a double dose of Endurance Potion and Extra Strong Pain Potion before every meeting, to be honest. It lessens the suffering in a half and helps to overcome this uncontrolled trembling the curse causes. My best Heavy Duty Pain Potion would block the pain completely but it would be idiocy to use it. No one can stage the effects of Cruciatus so he would notice I’m cheating. I don’t even dare to imagine the consequences… So, due to my potions and lots of practice I finally manage to get up and, wiping the dirt from my face, return into the silent, dark circle. It isn’t SO bad, actually, could be much, much worse – after all I was accepted, I managed to beg my way back to him. It was quite easy, to tell the truth– some groveling, some boot-licking - nothing difficult for an experienced liar. I know he tolerates me only because he needs me – a spy at Hogwarts. The bloody Poisons’ Master. Viper, with death running in his veins. Well, he accepts most of us only because he needs us. The next to be punished is Narcissa. I have no idea what she’s done wrong but it can’t be anything serious, I daresay, because her penalty is only some beating. Crabbe and Goyle, these pea-brained gorillas, are holding her arms and he’s slapping her, slowly and rhythmically. I see Lucius clenching his fists but he’s wise enough not to protest. Finally, it’s over. The orders have been given, the guilty have paid for their mistakes. Now he should allow us to Disapparate. “Snape” – he hisses suddenly and I feel my marrow freeze.
“Yes, Master?”
“Malfoy.”
“Yes, my Lord?” His voice is so suave and full of submission, it’s worth to endure all this pain to see this vain, blond bastard begging and groveling…
“You are still not trusted. Therefore, next time you’ll be given some Veritaserum to check your loyalty. No, Snape, you aren’t the one to brew it. You’re too cunning, you could make it malfunction.” – he smiles nastily. Sure, I could! I’ve passed lots of difficult potions’ exams, my research has won the world-wide renown, I’ve invented a few new potions and they aren’t stupid ones that turn you into a canary for a minute or something but powerful medicines or antidotes. My Endurance Potion, for example, simply wipes the aftereffects of Cruciatus off and when I drink it no one is be able to notice I was cursed, even Albus who has no idea about my punishment. Or my Internal Injures Potion. Cures nearly everything. Of course I’m not so mad to say that aloud. Me and Luc just whisper “Yes, Master” in unison, and finally we can go home.
“Aren’t you afraid?” – he asks. I give him an offended look.
“There’s nothing I should be afraid of. I am loyal.” True, very true – I AM LOYAL but to Dumbledore. And I am not afraid, too – I’m simply terrified. I have three days to deal with the problem – how to cheat this madman again. I keep delving through all books I posses but every one says: There’s NO antidote, NO countercurse, NO shielding charm. DAMN! Does my knowledge betray me when I need it most? Finally, I climb to Headmaster’s office.
“Albus” – I say quietly – “may I use the Teachers’ Library?” Yes, there are TWO libraries in this school, one for teachers’ use only because it contains books with very Dark or dangerous magic. Or both.
“You don’t have to ask for permission to go there.” I know but I always ask.
“Is it so serious?” – I see anxiety in his blue, wise eyes. I just nod. “No Antiveritaserum?”
“None. But I’ll find it.”
“If you don’t…”
“I WILL.”
No, Dark books, I won’t even touch you. You won’t help me, I know that but there are volumes that will. Few, very few people have ever gotten familiar with Sanguis Magia - Magic of Blood but I have and I bless every hour I’ve spent learning it. Sanguis has always been considered Dark by brainless idiots who have no slightest idea about it but it‘s neither good nor evil – I mean some potions and spells are darker than my hair but many are not. I’ve used Sanguis Magia a few times in my life and never to hurt or kill, always to heal and help. I open one of the volumes and start reading. Sanguis books are written in an ancient language with very complicated grammar and difficult alphabet so few wizards are able to decipher it, let alone brew the potions described there! The Lord has no idea I can, I was cunning enough not to tell him. My father and me knew it’s stupid to reveal all your secrets, it leaves you defenseless. My dear Dad never trusted Voldemort. He worked for him, that’s true, and helped him grow in power but never trusted him an inch. It’s getting dark when I finally find what I’ve been looking for. I’d lick the boots of a witch who wrote this book 500 years ago! Woman, you were a genius! Yes, the potion’s effect lasts for 12 hours – I hope that’s long enough, side-effects – bearable (but I should be careful not to overdose it), more serious problems develop when you use it for a long time – well, I’ll probably have to endure them – they are nothing compared to things Lord would do to me if he knew… It takes only two days to prepare it, so if I hurry, I’ll manage to brew it before he calls me again. Ingredients: blood of a user, one glass, 2 phoenix feathers… Gosh, 50 different things but I have them all and I am capable of brewing the potion. That will be the most difficult one in my life but I can make it. I have to. No, there’s one thing I don’t possess and I won’t buy it in any shop, even at Knockturn. 2 glasses of blood of a Fire Unicorn. Fire Unicorn. Good heavens…
“So you can’t make it.” – I haven’t noticed Dumbledore entering. Damn, I should have but I haven’t. Maybe I’m simply too tired and cursed too many times to pay attention to everything. I get up, pull my cloak around my shoulders and look at him. God, he’s so worried!
“I can put you under Fidelius Charm, Severus.”
No, Headmaster. I won’t be sitting idly, watching my friends fight Him.
“You won’t get this blood anywhere, Severus. One needs really heinous Dark Arts to kill a Fire Unicorn. Even if you know how to do it, I tell you not to.”
“Albus, I can get this blood…”
“NO. I order you not to. It is a crime more terrible than slaying a normal unicorn.”
“I do know that. Listen, please. I can get the blood but no Unicorn will suffer because of it, I swear.” He looks in my eyes, flabbergasted. “I know more about Fire Unicorns than you do, Albus, and I have never hurt any. I’d rather die than harm them.” Now he’s really puzzled.
“Have you been lucky, Severus, to see one?” See? Millions of times, I can even talk to them! But it is a long story and I have no time to explain so I just nod. “Very few wizards had the opportunity to meet them. I wish it happened to me.” Maybe it will. “But you won’t hurt them?”
“I have sworn, haven’t I?”
“Could you tell me how?” – he asks.
“My daughters will help me.” I shouldn’t have said that. It’s hard to shock Dumbledore but I managed it for the second or third time in my life.
“Are you all right?” – he whispers.
“Yes, why?” Man, let me go, the time is running!
“First you said you know a lot about Fire Unicorns, then that you have seen them and now that you have children!” Well, I have never told him…
“Albus, that’s the long story and I have no time. Please, I must hurry. I’d rather curse myself with Cruciatus than harm them!” He fixes his eyes in mine and finally nods. I run to the Apparating Point at the gates. It’s time to see my twins, high time indeed…
July 19th
“GET UP, YOU SON OF THE BITCH!” – Harry leaps to his feet, hearing Vernon yelling with fury. Summer holidays have never been a pleasure but these seem to be nothing short of torture. Drill company has been going badly since a few months and Vernon started drinking. That means that not only Harry’s school things are locked but also that Hedwig had to be sent away for her own safety (Ron is looking after her). Harry had to move back into the cupboard under the stairs… So he crawls out of the pile of dirty, old rags – his “bed” and quickly puts his clothes on. He has to set the table and prepare breakfast for the Dursleys. The reflexes he developed by years of being a Seeker save him from the blow. Vernon has a terrible hangover and is looking for his favorite punch bag again. He’s always smacked Harry but this year it’s really serious, especially when Harry has nightmares and his “family” is furious because he wakes them up.
“Voldemort should have killed me” – grins Harry sarcastically, while frying the eggs. “It would be a favor…” Aunt Petunia gives him a list of chores he has to do. Damn, weeding the garden again… Every fiber of his bruised body is shrieking in protest when he’s working… He feels so weak today – maybe because of hunger (three days without food for having a nightmare) and maybe because of fever he doesn’t even know he has.
“Hurry up, you freak!” – screeches Petunia. Is it his bloody fault he has these dreams? Voldemort has been very furious recently and Harry has heard his victims screaming. Not just his enemies but also Death Eaters punished for something. Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa, many others Harry doesn’t know. And Snape. In every nightmare his Potions’ teacher is the one to be treated with extreme cruelty. Harry wanted once or twice to put this greasy git under Cruciatus curse but now he feels something like compassion towards him. Snape’s yells are echoing in his head, accompanied by Voldemort’s mad, cackling laugh. Harry has no idea whether Snape is loyal to Dumbledore but even if is not – no one deserves that. Every time before he is cursed, Voldemort points at him and Snape submissively steps towards him and kneels down bowing his head, not daring to look into these evil red eyes, as if accepting his punishment. This arrogant, insolent man behaves like a house-elf, like a slave. “You look so beautiful when you are in pain, Severus” – hissed Voldemort last time. This man is mad, more than mad…Aunt’s angry screech interrupts Harry’s musings.
“You haven’t peeled the potatoes yet, you freak! You should have been killed like your abnormal parents!” Petunia is afraid of Vernon and releases her fear on Harry.
“I’m coming.” – he answers standing up. His tormented muscles are screaming in protest again. He peels these potatoes, listening to the insults his aunt is throwing at him. He feels tears running down his cheeks but his aunt can’t see them. Even if she could, it wouldn’t change anything. He’s just a freak for them, an abnormal boy they are ashamed of. Why did Dumbledore insist that he should stay here? Well, he is probably protected from Voldemort with powerful charms here but why isn’t he protected from his own family? Dumbledore must have no idea how they are treating him otherwise he would have done something! No, Harry has never written anyone about that – he would be ashamed to tell the Headmaster that he is a “freak” for his own aunt and uncle, Hagrid is abroad, Sirius can’t help him, too. Well, he would run straight here and curse the Dursleys – what if the Ministry noticed him? No, Sirius must stay in hiding, Harry wouldn’t endure the loss of his best friend. Hermione is in Bulgaria, visiting Krum, the Weasleys have problems feeding their own kids and after all Harry is too proud to beg them for help.
Finally Uncle Vernon is back and – strange indeed – he’s in a good mood and that means he just treats Harry as if he were invisible. Everything’s going to be all right today… Suddenly a strange owl flies in through the open window… It has a letter, no, please, no… It drops an envelope on the floor, uncle rises from his chair, fury twisting his purple face… Harry catches a glimpse of the envelope and his heart sinks. It’s a Howler!!! Uncle rips it in half and it starts shouting.
“YOU MURDERER! YOU’VE KILLED CEDRIC! YOU DEATH EATER! YOU DESERVE NOTHING, BUT A DEMENTOR’S KISS! IT’S ALL YOUR BLOODY FAULT! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED, NOT HIM! NOT HIM! YOU STINKING COWARD, WHY HAVEN’T YOU HELPED HIM?! EVERYONE CALLS YOU A HERO BUT YOU ARE ONLY A SPOILED, BRAINLESS, SELFISH BRAT!!!”
Everybody is speechless for a moment but after a while Vernon grasps Harry and slams him against the wall. This time he will kill him, no doubt… Harry darts for the door and bolts into the darkness, hearing mad yells behind him. He has no idea how long he’s been running when his legs finally give. He sinks to the ground, sobbing… The Howler was right, he should have died… Cedric was innocent… It was all his fault, he should have taken the Cup alone… Harry is so occupied with his terrible thoughts that he doesn’t notice three wizards Apparating in the nearby, until a tall, strong, dark-haired man puts his hand on his shoulder…
Snape Apparates in the forest. Where on earth can this place be? Probably, like Hogwarts, it’s unplottable. There are enormous mountains, covered with snow, fathomless lakes and ancient woods full of giant trees, towering over his head but he doesn’t marvel all this impressive things now. It must be late at night here and, moreover, it’s raining heavily, as if he’s landed under a huge waterfall. In spite of that, he has no time to waste and plunges into the darkness. One can’t Apparate in the Clearing of Meetings and he’s about ten miles from there but he knows the way. He’s never been here before but somehow he knows. Ten miles seem to be rather a long distance but for a man who’s as fit as Snape, it isn’t too far. He’s always been in shape and was exercising much more than usual last year, feeling the Dark Mark coming back. He was aware that his fighting abilities must be perfect if the Lord comes back. Just in case.
The darkness in this thick forest is inky but he keeps running. He can see clearly as in broad daylight, he can hear and smell all the creatures in the nearby. He has no idea how but his senses are suddenly as sharp as if he were a wild animal. He’ll think about that strange thing later, now he’s simply using it. Though he’s really fit and he’s taken his Endurance Potion, finally he starts feeling the effects of curses Voldemort used against him. His muscles are screaming in protest, sweat mixed with rain is running down his cheeks, his heart is thumping aloud. Still, he keeps running silently, more like a shadow than a human and finally he reaches the Clearing of Meetings. Breathing heavily, he strides into the center and concentrates hard, calling his daughters. No answer comes, so he repeats. Telepathy seems to be easy but is very energy-consuming. They must be really far away, maybe they can’t hear him? He thought they were in the forest, that’s why he came here! After a quarter or so he, depleted of all his strength, sinks to his knees, tears running uncontrollably down his cheeks. Maybe they DON’T WANT to contact him? His daughters, his beloved children… Many think that Severus hates kids, that’s why he’s such a mean teacher. It is not so: he would die protecting every single Hogwart’s student, even Harry or Neville he really dislikes but it’s his cover to favor Death Eaters’ kids and bully the others, especially Potter and Muggle-borns. And there’s another secret he’s never shared with anyone: when he looks at his students it simply hurts him. Other people can watch their kids growing, he could not. No one has ever learnt about his daughters, even Dumbledore. Snape isn’t sure why he haven’t told the Headmaster, probably because his family is connected with one of the most brutal crimes he’s ever committed and the most heinous he’s ever witnessed. He looked after his daughters until their were ten, then they had to part, though it ripped his heart in two. They belonged to their folk, not his, and it was better for them to grow up among their own kin. The Leader stated it clear: they have to come back to the forest and his contact with them must be broken, otherwise their abilities won’t develop properly. Snape had to admit that, he wasn’t able to teach his girls how to control the powers they possessed. He’s never understood, though, why he can’t even keep in touch with them or visit them from time to time but maybe the Leader had her reasons. Seven long years have passed since their parting. Not a single word spoken to his daughters, not even a glimpse of them, nothing. Nothing. However, he was allowed to come when in extreme need. And he really needs help today but they aren’t coming. They are 17 so in their race they are mature women, with their powers fully developed. They give “adult” names to their children when they grow up, how can they be called now? He called them Blanche and Noir but they adult names must be different, chosen to describe them: their characters and abilities. Noir has always been brave, ready to take risks, Blanche was more thoughtful, great at chess and riddles.
Suddenly, hearing thudding hooves, he raises his head slowly, not trusting himself: yes, they are coming, they have answered him! God, they are marvelous, magnificent! The last time he saw them they were two times smaller, now they are grown-up, strong and powerful, unbridled and wild… He’s sometimes asked himself why he’s mercilessly murdered seven people to save them, why he’s betrayed his Lord for the first time to help them, why’s risked so much looking after them when Voldemort was on the top of his powers: now, watching them running, he knows the answer. Because only somebody with a stone instead of a heart wouldn’t have done that.
Flashback, Snape’s POV
How has it all started? Well, all happened due to my parents, though they would have cut my throat, if they could have known how I used the knowledge they had given to me… My mother, Poppea was a hit man (rather a hit woman...) Everyone in her family were soldiers, fighting, spying and killing for anyone who paid for their services. She taught me loads of curses and also how to fight with a knife and a sword, how to use a gun (maybe I should be Snipe not Snape?) and made a Shatten master out of me (Shatten is a kind of martial arts. All Hit Wizards, Aurors and Death Eaters are taught some martial arts but it’s nothing compared to the training I received.) My father, Nero Snape, was a Potions’ Master like me. He taught me loads of the Dark Arts and Sanguis Magia. My parents were as Dark as you can imagine. Darker than my eyes. With such a family there’s no wonder I joined Voldemort when I was just fifteen. The youngest ever accepted. Pride of the family. (sarcastic snort) My parents were Death Eaters so it was decided before my birth and no one asked me whether I want to join him. Honestly, I had no other choice. When I tried to protest because I was afraid of him, my mother simply said:
“There’s enough evidence against you to get you expelled from school. More: there’s enough to send you to Azkaban.”
True. Had the Ministry known the truth I would have received life sentence though I was only fifteen. There was blood on my hands before I went to school. I killed for the first time when I was only nine… She would have framed me in if I had disappointed her, she would have watched me rotting in prison, laughing. She was as mad as Voldemort, if not madder. I was just spying and brewing potions for the Lord before I graduated; Professor Lestrange, my Potions’ teacher was covering me up and helping me. Then I became a hit man. I accepted my fate and even enjoyed my life, after all my parents lived like that so it was normal to me. It was my fate, as it was one of my ancestors for centuries. Death is running in my veins, I was born to kill. My job was to track and kill dangerous enemies: Hit Wizards, Aurors or so. I’ve rarely tortured them; there was no point of that. Even under Cruciatus curse one can lie, I’m a living proof of that. When I had to question them I used Veritaserum. I’ve never been sent on a killing spree when they were murdering and torturing just for fun. Why, you may ask? Well, many Death Eaters have never seen a spree. Spies, Potions’ Masters, hit men… We are to precious for the Lord to risk our loss in such a raid. Just these who can’t do much more than the Unforgivables, like Lucius, are sent to kill Muggles. We deal with other, more complicated, tasks. Still, I could read about sprees in newspapers. I couldn’t agree with that wanton cruelty. There was no sense in all that – it was madness. I could understand murdering political opponents, I could understand revenge but not that pointless bloodshed. I wasn’t the only one – I knew a few Death Eaters who couldn’t, too. Poor ones, they all committed suicide, unable to live after all they have witnessed or done. I would have drunk the poison, too, probably, but I had children so I couldn’t leave them alone. My children… I was nineteen and a faithful Death Eater. Yes, I couldn’t agree with my Master’s cruelty sometimes but I have never tried to oppose him until that night. Seven of us were sent to kill some Fire Unicorns: he needed their blood and flesh, I think, or maybe he just wanted to do it? They are powerful: they can do lots of magic, use telepathy, Apparate, turn invisible at will and many more so one must perform very complicated and Dark spells to find and kill them. I followed these group of “hunters”, I don’t know exactly why: was it just curiosity or maybe my first small rebellion? When I found them, two grown-up unicorns had already been dead and Death Eaters were torturing two small foals. Don’t ask me what for, there was no reason for that but bloodlust. I was standing and watching them, unnoticed. You won’t notice me at night if I don’t want you to. I looked at these two wonderful beings, literally ripped into pieces and their young, defenseless children cursed and kicked. I know how it hurts when you’re a child and a group of grown-ups is beatings your brain out and you don’t even know why. Or you know and realize it isn’t your bloody fault. I just watched that and suddenly something broke inside me. I killed all my fellows, all seven of them. The foals were very badly hurt and I couldn’t count on a help of a Healer or a Mediwizard. I’m not very good at healing and they were dying before my very eyes so I used Sanguis Magia to save them and it worked. That’s why we say we share blood: I used mine to help them. I took them and hid them in one of my “lairs” nobody, even the Lord, knew about. I have no idea how but I could communicate with them, using their speech; I’ve read only Merlin could, no other wizard has ever achieved that. I think I can because we share blood. Books say that that the one who gives and the one who receives are connected forever with a magical bond, so maybe that’s the explanation. I looked after them until they were ten: then their Leader came and she told me Blanche and Noir must come back to their kin. We had to part and it was the last time I was crying. They were crying, too: I was a father for them and they were my daughters.
End of a flashback
“Strange indeed” – thinks Snape – “ Fire Unicorns calling a human their father.” But it’s true: Unicorns he loved as if he were their real father are galloping at full speed towards him. The rain has stopped and there’s moon in the sky so he can see them well. Blanche is so white that the purest snow would look dirty compared to her, Snape would bet his life she’s glimmering and Noir is so black that darkness around her seems to be merely gray. Their long manes and tails are billowing in the wind, their sharp horns are glittering like ground steel, their wings, covered with beautiful plumage, are shining in the moonlight. He stands up and they halt in front of him. They look so pure he’s afraid to touch them because he could stain them. They are gazing at him with their wise, huge eyes.
*Why were you crying, dad?* - asks Blanche.
*These, who share blood never betray each other.* - adds Noir. *And we love you.* Snape is speechless but tears are running down his cheeks anew. *There are so many things we must explain to you.* - she smiles. *But first we must tell you our adult names. Blanche is called Mearas now because she is fast like lighting. And I am Aegnor, Hell Fire. Fire because my fire aura is extremely powerful and Hell because…* - she hesitates for a moment - *because last year a group of Dark wizards came and they wanted to kill some of our foals and I smashed them. Literally.*
Snape keeps staring at his daughters, still too happy to say anything. Suddenly, another Unicorn appears on the Clearing. Mearas and Aegnor bow their heads so low that the points of their horns touch the ground, Snape kneels down to show his respect to the Leader. Huge muzzle touches his cheeks gently.
*Stand up, Morthoron, Dark Phoenix.* He obeys and looks up at her. He’s tall (6 feet two) but Avalanche, the Leader, is over 7 feet (measured in her withers). Her enormous, sapphire eyes are staring straight into his. He’s always felt tiny and weak when approaching her but not endangered or humiliated. She resembles Dumbledore to him – also powerful and cunning but good, she won’t hurt you unless you try to harm her or her folk first. *The Enemy is back.* - she says. He nods. *You need our blood.*
*Correct. If I am allowed, of course.*
*Everyone in my pack would die for you, Dark Phoenix. How much do you need?*
*Two glasses will be enough for two months, I suppose.* Avalanche neighs aloud.
*Oh, I supposed you needed something more… You’ll get it, the Enemy won’t hurt you.*
*Thank you, Avalanche.*
*But first, I must tell you something.*
They all leave the Clearing in silence, leading Snape somewhere. After a few minutes they reach their goal. It looks like debris but Snape can fill magic radiating from it. Avalanche thuds with her hoof three times and the stones move, showing the entrance to the dungeons.
*Follow me, Morthoron. Girls, stay here.* They enter a huge, stone chamber. It must have been built by a powerful wizard because magic is literally filling the air inside. There’s a table and a chair in the corner so humans must have visited this place. Avalanche tells Snape to sit down and sighs. *It’s a long story, Dark Phoenix. To make it as short as possible: first I am sorry for taking your girls away from you but it was a necessity. They had the right to decide themselves which world they want to belong to. I am a bit of a Seer and knew we would meet one more time when the power of Darkness would start growing again. You’ll get the blood you need but you’ll also take some hair of a black Fire Unicorn and Mound Flowers.*
*Mound Flowers?* - he’s shocked. *Flowers that grow on the graves of your kin? No human has ever even seen them let alone pluck them!*
*Merlin did.* - she smiles gently. *I can see many places and many things. You’ll use the blood to brew Antiveritaserum and hair and flowers to make the potion described in the same book but two pages earlier.* He concentrates hard, trying to remind himself what it was. When he realizes, he turns pale as chalk.
*Desire Stopper* - he whispers. The words of the Lord are ringing in his head again. “You are so beautiful when you are in pain, Severus….” He was half-conscious that time and didn’t pay attention to them but now the meaning is clear.
*Desire Stopper* - says Avalanche - *is something opposite to Love Potion. When somebody desires you and you don’t want them to it’s enough to drink it and they at once change their attitude towards you, at least for a few days. They don’t consider you attractive anymore, Dark Phoenix. The Enemy won’t leer at a Unicorn form my pack! Over my dead body!* She thuds with her hooves snorting angrily and the blue fireball bursts out of her nostrils.
*Avalanche, I’ll always be in debt to you.*
*It’s my duty to protect my folk.* - she answers plainly.
*I’m a human, not a Fire Unicorn.* She neighs aloud again.
*You are called a father by two of my kin and that’s enough to make me treat you as one of us. But there are other things I must tell you about. Merlin was the only wizard who could talk to us because he did the same thing as you. He shared blood with one of us. Merlin was also a great Seer and said that one day another wizard would come and he ordered my ancestors to give that man presents he had left. First gift was our blood, hair and flowers. Merlin foresaw you would need them. Second gift is hidden in this chest.* - she points at it with her horn. *Take it out, please.* Snape lifts the heavy lid and sees something a bit bigger than a Quaffle, wrapped in a cloth. He puts this thing on the table, unwraps it and gasps with awe. It is a huge, rough-hewn jewel. It’s perfectly transparent, like a flawless brilliant but has a deep purple color and sheds silver reflexes around.
*The Palantir* - his eyes widen in surprise. *Impossible. People have been looking for it for centuries.*
*But true* - she answers. *You’ve guessed right, that is one of the Palantiri, the Seeing Stones of Merlin. You could see everything inside them. One showed the Past, another the Present and the last one the Future. Merlin destroyed the first and the last, considering them to be too dangerous. He thought it was a waste of time to look at the Past which cannot be changed or at the elusive Future one usually misinterprets. So you one you are now staring at the Stone which shows the Present. An useful gift for a spy, I daresay. It will speak only to you or your real friends if you allow them to.* Snape is speechless again, he can’t help looking inside the enormous, magnificent stone. *The last gift* - she continues - *you should have already noticed yourself.* He lifts his eyebrows, surprised. *You’ve found the way to the Clearing of Meetings, haven’t you? You can talk to us, can’t you? Anything more?*
*Yes* - he answers after a while - *My senses suddenly sharpened an hour or so ago and… I’ve done a few spells without a wand lately.*
*So?* - she asks but he doesn’t know what she means. *When you share blood with somebody* - she explains - *the one who gives transfers some of his powers to the one that receives.*
*I know.*
*But it also works backwards. By sharing blood you gained some Unicorn powers, Dark Phoenix. Most of them were asleep inside you but now they are awake and growing. You posses senses as sharp as ours and you are becoming a mage – someone who doesn’t need a wand to make a spell. I know that powerful wizards, like Albus Dumbledore, can perform simpler magic without wands but you’ll be able to do anything you want when these powers grow completely. You are more a Unicorn than you think, Morthoron.* Snape doesn’t know what to say again.
*A mage is never defenseless.* - he whispers finally.
*And that’s what you may need, spy.* - she smiles. *Therefore keep that fact in secret and use this gift only in great need.*
*But why am I given all that? I’m a Dark wizard, an Assassin, a Death Eater…*
*You used to be* - she answers with a little impatience in her voice. *There’s still a lot of hatred and pain inside you but you aren’t Dark anymore. A Dark wizard wouldn’t spy against the Enemy, would he? Merlin knew you would be… entangled in Dark activity but he also saw that you would reject the Darkness and fight it. That’s why he left the Palantir, Dark Phoenix – a gift for a spy. And now I’m going to tell you something about Aegnor and Mearas. Both are talented enough to take my place after my death – and I won’t see much more springs, I’m aware of that – but they didn’t want to. They are Healers. They have the gift and they want to spend their life using it. That’s the ability they posses because their mother did but there are others they have due to your blood sharing. They have always been Talented Potions’ Masters, like you, and they can use Shatten, too.*
*Shatten?* - he’s flabbergasted. *Unicorns don’t need human martial arts, they have their own ways to fight.*
*They can turn into humans.*
*EXCUSE ME???*- -that’s too much even for him.
*They can turn into humans.* - she repeats peacefully.
*How?*
*Blood sharing, Dark Phoenix. Merlin could transform into a Unicorn so why not backwards? And they want to go with you to England to help all of you fight the Darkness. Your school Mediwizard retired recently, if I’m not mistaken so you may need Healers.* He admits that, Madam Pomfrey did retire last month after 60 years of work at Hogwarts.
*We share so much.* - he adds after a while. *Strange.*
*Indeed* - she agrees. *You know, Morthoron, you are really their father. Biologically.*
*You’re kidding, they are Unicorns!* - he shouts aloud.
*There’s as much your blood inside them as of Blizzard and Anor, their Unicorn parents, so you are. I realize it sounds uncanny but that’s true. Check in your books if you don’t believe me: these who share blood become connected for ever also in this way.* - she explains - *Their relationship is as close as between siblings or parents and children, if not closer. But* - she smiles - *you must hurry to brew your potions before the Enemy summons you again so we’ll pick up the Flowers and you must go.*