Chapter XV: Fire and Ice

There she was, bent over her cauldron, her eyes narrowed with concentration. Her teeth were gnawing at her lower lip, and Severus couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of him. There were days when Morgaine reminded him so much of the young girl he had once taught, that he almost forgot how many years had passed since she had been his student. Almost twenty years it had been since he, for the first time, had instructed her to brew a potion. Twenty years since their minds had brushed each other for the first time.

Morgaine stirred the concoction once more, and as the fumes rose, the room filled with the scent of eucalyptus. Severus frowned. How did he know? Ghosts had no sense of smell. Was he able to smell the eucalyptus because he knew how the potion smelled? Or had the mental bond between him and Morgaine become so strong again that he was sharing her experiences?

He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his silvery eyes. Morgaine was tired. To know that, Severus didn’t need to use Legilimency. She had been working more or less day and night since the Headmistress had cancelled all lessons due to the flu epidemic half a week ago. About a third of the school, students and staff alike, had come down with high fever and coughs, and Minerva had decided that the wisest choice was to send the still healthy students home until the worst was over. Those students who were unable to go home were confined to their common rooms, and the hospital wing had been declared a quarantine zone. Minerva would do anything to keep the epidemic from spreading like it did in the rest of Britain.

The Apothecary at St. Mungo’s was hopelessly overloaded with requests for antipyretic and antibiotic potions, and – responsible for the well-being of the students of Hogwarts – Poppy had begged Morgaine to help her out. Waiting to get medicines from St. Mungo’s could prove to be disastrous, and Morgaine had, of course, taken to brewing at once. Severus helped out where he could, but his ghostly shape still restricted him. So instead of attempting to brew, he supervised the seven house-elves that were busy chopping potions ingredients in the dungeon.

‘Have you eaten today?’ he asked Morgaine as she took the cauldron from the heat and placed it on the side table beside the numerous phials.

She didn’t answer, but just nodded towards a plate on her desk on which lay a half-eaten sandwich. Severus raised an eyebrow. Two slices of soggy white bread with ham between them hardly counted as proper food in his opinion.

‘And when was the last time you slept?’

‘January,’ Morgaine muttered and started bottling the potion.

‘You will not be of any help to anybody if you collapse,’ Severus stated firmly and gestured for an elf to take over the bottling. ‘Take a break. Have some tea and food.’

At first, Morgaine shot him a look that suggested that he had lost his mind. Then a faint grin lit up her pale face. ‘Yes, Professor Snape, sir.’

The way her shoulders sagged when she sank onto the chair by her desk suggested that she only then allowed herself to feel her tiredness, as did the shaking hand with which he rubbed her forehead.

‘Headache?’ Severus asked.

‘Skull splitting,’ Morgaine admitted.

‘I suggest a walk in the fresh air.’ Severus could still remember how his body had sometimes reacted when he had not left the Potions lab for several days in a row. Migraine-like headaches and nausea were not uncommon symptoms for potioneers to suffer from. A swift walk down to the lake and back had often helped him, especially in the cold, fresh winter air.

‘But the potions ...’

Severus cut Morgaine’s protest short with a gesture of his hand. ‘The batch you just made will be enough to grant everyone in the hospital wing at least one night of recuperating sleep,’ he said. ‘And you need to give the elves a chance to finish preparing all the ingredients before you start brewing anew.’ He drifted closer and fixed Morgaine with a stare that had once made the cockiest students recoil. ‘Are you going outside on your own, Miss duLac, or do I have to levitate you?’ Not that he knew if he were actually able to levitate a person, but he could always make the threat. After all, Morgaine didn’t know either.

She gave him a tired smile and rose from her chair. When she reached the door, she turned. ‘Will you join me?’ she asked.

Severus just nodded. For a moment, he had feared that she would not ask.

~ ~ ~
The February air was cold, and there was the smell of snow hanging in the air. But the sun was shining, and its light almost rendered Severus invisible. But Morgaine didn’t need to see him to know that he was there. She always knew when he was around. She couldn’t explain the sensation, but it could be compared to the sensation of having someone observe you across the room. It was a tingly feeling, and it made her want to smile. She recognised it from many years ago, from the time when Severus had still been alive. She had missed that feeling dearly.

At the shore of the lake, she came to a halt and let her gaze wander over the frozen surface. Part of her, the little girl she carefully kept hidden away, wanted to venture out onto the ice, run towards the sun and see how fast she could run before she slipped. But another part, the grown-up, sensible part, told her that it was too dangerous. It was late February. Soon spring would come, and the ice might not be as strong as it looked. But maybe, breaking through and getting trapped under the ice, being dragged down by the icy current would not be that bad.

Morgaine shuddered at her dark thoughts, slightly startled by the fact that they had surfaced. She had no reason to have them. She was feeling freer and happier than she had in years: Severus was right by her side, and over the last couple of weeks, she had once more given him access to her mind as well as her heart. She had shared her secrets and let him get to know their daughter. But still, something seemed to be gnawing at her. She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, but couldn’t keep herself from shuddering yet again.

‘Are you cold?’

At Severus’ question, Morgaine shook her head. ‘No, I’m alright.’

If she had been honest, she would have admitted that she was freezing. But admitting that might make Severus suggest that she cast a Warming Charm, and Morgaine wasn’t sure if she would be able to muster the strength for the spell. Nor did she know if it would help. All of a sudden, the cold seemed to have crept into her very bones.

‘You are a bad liar, Morgaine,’ Severus pointed out.

Suddenly it felt as if there were warm water trickling down her back, and Morgaine turned around to face Severus, who was smirking at her puzzled look.

‘I have been practising,’ he pointed out. ‘Wandless magic is not all that difficult to master.’

‘I see.’ The sensation of warm water had given way to something else. Now Morgaine felt as if her whole body had been wrapped in cotton. ‘What more can you do?’ she enquired.

‘I can conjure fire, both magical and non-magical,’ Severus explained. ‘I am also proficient at Vanishing spells and Accio. But surprisingly enough, spells involving heat are the easiest.’ His pale lips curled into a smile. ‘Hold out your hands,’ he ordered. ‘And close your eyes.’

For a moment, Morgaine felt suspicious. Whatever was Severus up to? But she did as he bade her, held out her hands and closed her eyes. For a while, nothing happened. Nothing at all. Then, all of a sudden, her hands felt warm, as if ... Morgaine gasped. It felt as if someone were holding her hands in theirs.

Her heart started to race in her chest, and her eyes flew open. Severus was standing right in front of her, but due to the sunlight, she couldn’t see much more than his silhouette. But she could clearly see his ghostly hands around hers. They shimmered in blue, and they were ... yes, they were warm.

Morgaine stood as frozen. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Severus was a ghost. And ghostly hands weren’t warm. This was wrong.

‘How did you do that?’ She didn’t allow herself more than a whisper, afraid that her voice would break.

Severus just shrugged, his hands still wrapped around hers. ‘I do not know,’ he confessed. ‘I do not even know what made me want to try. It felt ... right, somehow.’

For some moments that seemed to stretch into hours, days and lifetimes, Morgaine stared at their hands. This defied any law of magic she knew about. Ghosts could not conjure heart. Ghosts could not hold hands. But there Severus could. His hands were enfolding hers, and the gesture awakened a longing in Morgaine which made her heart break into a thousand pieces. The longing to feel Severus’ touch on her skin, to feel his fingers caressing her.

She felt her throat go tight, and for a moment, the world shifted out of focus. She blinked feverishly to make the dizziness disappear, but it lingered, and Morgaine thought she was about to faint.

Severus’ grip around her hands tightened. Yes, he was truly holding onto her hands. ‘I knew you have been working too hard,’ he pointed out, taking the sudden loss of colour on Morgaine’s cheeks for a sign of exhaustion. ‘We are going back to the castle right this instant. And you are not going to touch any cauldron for at least twelve hours. I want you to go lie down.’

~ ~ ~
Morgaine walked several feet in front of Severus on their way back to the castle. Her pace was swift, and her hands were deeply buried in her pockets. But however hard she clenched them into fists, they still felt warm, and the feeling of Severus’ touch lingered.

This was wrong. Very, very wrong. Morgaine willed her heart to beat slower and the emotions to leave her mind, but she couldn’t think clearly. The only explanation for what she had just experienced was that she had indeed been working too hard and that she had been imagining things. Severus could not have held her hands! It was impossible.

But her heart wished for nothing more than that she had not been imagining things.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost knocked over Poppy’s favourite elf in the Entrance Hall. The shipping from St. Mungo’s had finally arrived, the elf informed the Potions Mistress. For the time being, the nurse was all set with potions.

Morgaine sighed in relief. Even if she would never admit it to anyone, she was beyond exhausted. A warm bath in sandalwood scented water, a hot cup of tea, a fluffy pillow and a warm blanket sounded heavenly at the moment. But what she was longing for the most was some private time to analyse the emotions that were raging in her chest. Still, she directed her steps towards the dungeons.

‘Morgaine!’

The tone in Severus’ voice made her stop dead in her track. He had scared the wits out of countless students with it, and even ruthless Death Eaters had understood that no one ever defied that tone and lived to tell the tale.

Morgaine took a deep breath and turned to face him, silently thanking the afternoon sunlight that fell through the windows. Once more, Severus was almost invisible, and Morgaine was spared to look into his eyes.

‘Your quarters are not in the dungeons,’ Severus pointed out, ‘and neither is your bed, the only place where you belong at the moment.’

‘Have you ever gone to bed without making sure your Potions lab is in order?’ Morgaine required.

Severus inclined his head. ‘Touché, Professor. You have half an hour. After that, I will levitate you to your quarters if necessary.’

Some part of Morgaine wished that Severus would not follow her to the dungeons, but another was relieved that he did. Maybe he would explain how he had managed to touch her. Maybe he would touch her once more and thus prove that she was not going crazy. Maybe she would gather the courage to tell him what his touch had meant. But Severus didn’t say anything, and they had been cleaning her workstation and putting away tools and ingredients for almost twenty minutes when there was a knock on the door.

‘Morgaine?’

A mop of dark brown, ruffled hair appeared in the door, and Morgaine couldn’t help but smile. As so often, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher reminded her of a cheeky schoolboy who was about to play a trick on one of his mates.

‘Alek, what are you doing down here?’

Alek grinned. ‘What? Do you think I’m too scared to come down to the dark and gloomy dungeons?’ He screwed up his face and started making spooky noises. But they stuck in his throat as his eyes fell on Severus, whose scowl was dark enough to make the Bloody Baron shiver.

‘Ehm, Professor Snape, sir,’ Alek greeted politely and straightened his robes. Despite the gloominess of the dungeons, his blush couldn’t be missed. Quickly, he turned back to Morgaine. ‘The Headmistress asked me to come and get you. She wants you to have dinner in the Great Hall.’

‘The Great Hall?’ No one had eaten dinner there for almost a week. ‘Has the quarantine been lifted then?’ Morgaine wondered.

‘Well, partly,’ Alek explained. ‘The remaining students are still supposed to stay in their common rooms, but if I understood it correctly, then Professor Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey have put some kind of Disinfection Charm on the Great Hall. The Headmistress thinks that it might lift the children’s spirits to be allowed to eat together again.’

Morgaine nodded. The students had been cooped up in their respective common rooms for almost two weeks now. Surely, they would love to socialise with someone other than their House mates for a change.

‘How’s Melvin?’ she asked. Alek’s nephew had been one of the first Slytherins to fall ill. His condition had worried Poppy enough at one point to consider sending him to St. Mungo’s. But the boy had pulled through.

‘He’s better,’ Alek replied. ‘He’s been asking for his kitten.’

‘I guess Poppy wouldn’t allow it.’

‘Of course not.’ Once more, Alek grinned. ‘But I bribed an elf.’

Morgaine gave a little laugh, wondering if Hogwarts had ever before seen such a mischievous Defence teacher.

Severus, however, did not find Riverbed’s initiative funny in any way. ‘Do you realise that you might have endangered your nephew’s health?’ he enquired. ‘Cats can carry all kinds of germs.’

‘I was always under the impression that cats were very clean animals,’ Alek retorted.

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as Severus drew himself up to his full height, and Morgaine saw a flash of anger in ghostly eyes.

‘What did you say there was for dinner, Alek?’ she butted in, trying to avoid yet another showdown between the two men.

‘Yellow pea soup,’ Alek said, his head resolutely turned away from the ghost that was hovering a few feet to the left of Morgaine. ‘And there will be pancakes for dessert, with strawberry jam and whipped cream.’

‘I guess some soup wouldn’t hurt.’ Morgaine’s eyes darted between Alek and Severus. The young man seemed to wish for nothing more than to get out of the room as fast as possible. And the ghost looked as if he would very much like to help the man vanish. ‘Do you think we are done here, Severus?’

‘This is your lab now, Morgaine,’ Severus replied briskly. ‘It is up to you to decide.’

Morgaine flinched slightly at Severus’ tone. He never been one to appreciate being talked back to, but his reaction seemed a little bit too vehement to be justified.

‘I’ll be going to dinner then,’ she announced quietly. ‘I’ll be in my quarters later.’

‘Enjoy your soup.’ Still, Severus’ voice was cold as ice. He nodded curtly into Alek’s direction. ‘Riverbed.’ Then he dissolved into thin air. He had not even looked at Morgaine.

‘What’s got his wand in a knot?’ Alek enquired as he and Morgaine stepped out into the corridor.

‘This is the second time you assume that I know how Severus Snape feels, Alek,’ Morgaine replied. ‘Why is that?’

Alek blushed. ‘Well, I ... Weren’t you two ... together, sort of, when he was ... when he was alive?’

Morgaine frowned. ‘What gave you that idea?’ No one knew. Well, almost no one. Minerva knew, of course, but Morgaine doubted that the Headmistress would have told the Defence teacher. And any other witch or wizard who knew was dead. Except Lucius Malfoy. But how would Alek ...

‘Don’t frown at me like that, Morgaine,’ Alek interrupted her thoughts. ‘It doesn’t become you. And forgive me, I was jumping to conclusions. Forget I said anything.’ He stopped walking, and a pair of hazel eyes locked onto a pair of blue. ‘Please, Morgaine?’

She wasn’t able to give him an answer. The words stuck in her throat, and time itself seemed to stop as he took her hand into his.

~ ~ ~
Severus was fuming. Why, he did not really know, but he hadn’t felt that angry in ages. Was it because Riverbed had had cheek to talk back to him? Surely, he, Severus Snape, was above such childishness. But there was something about Alek Riverbed that made his bile rise.

And why had Minerva chosen that snot-nosed twit to fetch Morgaine to dinner anyway? Were all the elves on holiday, and was the Floo network broken? And wasn’t Morgaine old enough to go to dinner on her own?

Severus concentrated on one of the ladles that was still lying on the table. Slowly, the handle started to twist. Round and round until it resembled a corkscrew. One more twist and the metal snapped. Severus looked at the broken tool with satisfaction, wondering if he would be able to wring Riverbed’s neck if he put his mind to it.

He frowned at himself before he had finished the thought. What had the young man done to deserve having his neck wrung?

‘I doubt Morgaine will appreciate you breaking her tools.’

Severus groaned inwardly. There he was, in the dark Potions lab, a ghost, invisible, and still the portrait of Albus Dumbledore knew that he was there.

‘Could your maltreatment of inanimate objects have anything to do with Morgaine having gone to dinner without you?’ Dumbledore enquired. ‘Or even worse, with Morgaine having gone to dinner with the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?’

Severus had already opened his mouth but changed his mind in the last moment. This time, he would not rise to the bait. This time, he would not let the old puppet master play mind games with him.

He turned and wordlessly drifted though the wall into the corridor beyond, leaving Dumbledore wondering whether he were still there or not.

~ ~ ~
His hands were warm on her skin, but still their touch made her shiver. His lips were warm, too, and Morgaine shifted position to give him better access. She sighed contently and lifted her head to look into his hazel eyes.

She shot up from her pillow as if stung by a Skrewt. Her heart was racing, and her robe was sticking to her back. Yes, she was still fully dressed, but lying on her bed.

Her eyes darted towards the clock on the wall. Midnight. She had only meant to lie down for a couple of minutes after dinner and then take a bath before retiring for good. But she had obviously fallen asleep.

On trembling legs, Morgaine made her way to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. Hazel eyes. Why ever had she dreamt of Alek Riverbed? And why did the memory of that dream send shivers down her spine? Sure, he had been nice to her. He had even made her laugh several times at dinner. He was cute, carefree and kind. But that was no reason to have dreams of that manner.

She hadn’t had such dreams for years. The day she had buried Severus, she had also seemed to have buried her desire for men altogether. But this afternoon, when he had used this spell that had enabled him to hold her hands, he had awakened feelings in her she had not been able to handle, a longing she did not know how to fulfil.

She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at her empty bed for a couple of moments as she returned from the bathroom. Maybe the best thing to do would be to take a shower, take a Dreamless Sleep potion and hope its effects wouldn’t wear off before the morning.

But Morgaine decided against that option. Instead she grabbed a shawl and commenced her descent to the dungeons.

She was surprised to find the door to Severus’ old quarters ajar, and even more surprised at the golden light that was shining through the opening. There must be a fire burning in the grate.

She closed the door firmly behind her, and her eyes came to rest on Severus’ ghostly form. He was hovering in front of the fireplace, his hands extended towards the flames.

‘I didn’t know ghosts needed to warm their hands,’ she said quietly.

‘I did not light the fire for my sake,’ Severus answered and then slowly turned towards her. ‘I was hoping you would come down here.’

The tears started falling, and as much as Morgaine hated it when Severus saw her cry, she did not even try to stop them. There was no point. Her sorrow was threatening to tear her heart apart, and Severus needed to know.

‘I miss it, Severus,’ she confessed. ‘I miss the feeling of your arms around me. I miss the warmth of your lips and the touch of fingers on my skin. I miss you.’

‘I miss you, too, Morgaine.’ Severus drifted slowly towards her. ‘I miss the way you brushed the hair out of my face and caressed my cheek. And I miss the way you held my hand in the dark.’ Just as earlier that day, he took her hands into his. Once again, his hands shimmered in blue and felt warm, as if he had really just warmed them at the fire. ‘Why do you think I have been practising so hard?’

Morgaine blinked fiercely and looked down at their entwined hands just to look up moments later. A pair of tear-filled blue eyes locked onto a pair that had once been onyx and deep as the Black Lake.

‘Don’t let go tonight.’ It was not even a whisper, but a silent plea shared by two loving souls. ‘Don’t let go. I beg you.’