Conversing with Omegas was not synonymous with 'talking'; it was more akin to 'playing'. Their exchanges were not dialogues at all. They were games of chess.
Severus soon discovered that she promised to answer any question he asked her, and she never broke her word. The problem was that if he did not phrase his questions correctly, leaving her even the slightest opportunity, she would give the vaguest of answers, just as she had done when she had resisted Veritaserum.
Their relationship was not one of give and take: Omegas never asked Severus about his past. He felt that the reason for such a choice was that she sensed that if she tried, their game would die as it was born.
There were two subjects that Omegas avoided more than any other. The first was her full name, and therefore the identity of her father. The second was the reason that had driven her to leave civilisation and become a nomad among remote magical communities.
What Severus had understood was that, after leaving Hogwarts at the age of thirteen, she had attended Durmstrang and, it seemed, had had a fairly normal school experience. She made no mention of friends or personal relationships of any kind, perhaps because Severus didn't bother to ask about them, but she did speak of her school career. Most of all, she spoke of one of her teachers.
Apparently, she had been passionate about Potions ever since her time at Hogwarts, but her obsession with the subject reached its peak when she met a teacher named Gregorius Zakoten,[1] who taught Venoms, the Durmstrang equivalent of Potions. She spoke about him at length and with more passion than she had ever shown for anything or anyone else. In fact, Severus began to suspect that her obsession was not so much with the subject, but rather with her Professor.
She did not mention any other teachers, but hinted that she had also enjoyed the Manipulation course, which was the equivalent of Transfiguration, and the Defence Against the Dark Arts course, which was simply called Dark Arts at Durmstrang.
She had completed her studies successfully and then left. From then on, she was practically a complete mystery until the moment Dumbledore had decided to fund her desire to go on adventures and travel the world in search of new, fascinating magical cultures; all spiced with a good dose of war.
Occasionally, Omegas would appear in a place, fight her battles, save who had to be saved, wait for the crisis to pass, and leave as she had arrived. Surely that was what she had tried to do at Hogwarts, before she was trapped in a castle with an impassable threshold.
Their conversations became more and more frequent. At first, they were confined to those nightly exchanges, a drink in hand after a day spent brewing. After a while, Severus began to ask questions during the rest of the time they spent together, and she never complained. He would ask her questions while they were making potions, while they were having lunch in the Great Hall; even during their watch shifts at the shield, when their schedules and locations coincided.
One day, Severus even went out of his way to sit through dinner with Lupin and Tonks. Their conversation that afternoon hadn't been finished, and he wanted to keep her under control so she wouldn't stay up too late with them. He kept to himself while they ate; he had no interest in joining any of the conversations. Though he listened carefully to the one between Omegas and Tonks.
It wasn't particularly enlightening, except that at one point, while discussing the Hogwarts houses, Tonks jokingly asked her, "Are you sure you're a Slytherin? Because you don't act like one."
From that remark, Severus deduced that Omegas had told her almost nothing about herself, for if Tonks had bothered to learn even a fraction of what lay behind the mask of politeness and naivety that Omegas so gracefully wore, she would have discovered that she was, without a shadow of a doubt, a Slytherin.
She must have somehow predicted that he would form that thought, because at the exact moment Tonks uttered that sentence, her violet eyes darted to him and gave him a conspiratorial look. He responded with his usual impassive gaze, and perhaps just a hint of dark amusement.
His efforts, anyway, were in vain. That day, Omegas was assigned the night shift on the shield, and when she returned to Severus' quarters, he was already asleep. She didn't wake up until lunchtime, and when the two of them walked down to the Great Hall, Severus was more eager than ever for answers.
They sat at the Slytherin table as usual. They had just started an interesting conversation about her trip to Russia, when Omegas shifted her gaze from Severus to someone just behind him. He turned and was met with one of the last faces he wanted to see at that moment: Harry Potter's.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked politely.
Severus and Omegas replied simultaneously. She said "No", he said "Yes".
Harry frowned, his eyes darting from one to the other with obvious, growing curiosity.
Omegas cleared her throat. "We'll have time to continue this conversation, Severus," she noted. "I think Mr Potter needs you."
Severus turned again to find the boy nodding softly. He stood reluctantly and pointed a finger at her.
"We're not finished."
She gave an awkward nod.
He turned again and whispered a grumpy, "Follow me," to Harry.
They left the Great Hall and slipped into one of the dozens of empty classrooms.
"What's going on?" he asked brusquely.
"Sir, I… I need your help," Harry said quietly.
It had taken him long enough, he thought. He raised an eyebrow and approached him with measured steps.
"Do you now?"
"Yes, sir. I do," he replied firmly.
Severus gave him a grave look. "I'm listening."
"Well…" Harry began, looking vaguely guilty. "I… I need to know exactly what area the shield protects the school in."
Severus scrutinised him closely. "And why do you need to know that?"
Harry didn't answer, but his face was so extraordinarily easy to read after days of dealing with Omegas' cryptic smile.
"Are you thinking of leaving the castle, Potter?" he asked contemptuously. "After everything every single person within these walls has done to keep you safe?"
The guilt in Harry's eyes grew. He clenched his fists and lowered his gaze.
"Sir, there's… there's a book," he muttered.
"A book?" Severus echoed.
"A book," he confirmed. "It's… in a bag. A beaded bag belonging to Hermione Granger, sir. She lost it near the Shrieking Shack when we…" He hesitated for a moment. "When… when Voldemort killed you. Well, when he tried to kill you."
Severus took a long moment to consider his words.
"I need that book, Professor," the boy urged. "I've been searching the library for days. There's nothing else that—"
He stopped abruptly as Severus' black eyes darted on his.
Harry swallowed. "Please…"
Severus kept his quiet for another few moments.
"Hogsmeade is well beyond the shield. It doesn't extend any further than the Forbidden Forest, and it doesn't encompass it completely."
"But I could get there through the passage under the Whomping Willow, couldn't I?" the boy countered. "If I went through that passage, would the shield protect me?"
"Only until you get to the other side," he replied. "It's too dangerous. The Death Eaters are stationed all along the perimeter. Hogsmeade is probably crawling with them."
Harry nodded. "It is, according to Aberforth."
"Then it's out of the question, Potter," he said categorically.
He turned away, determined to return to the Great Hall without further interruption.
"Sir, you can fly," the boy said.
He had spoken the words so quickly that for a moment Severus thought he had misheard. He turned to him and retraced his steps slowly.
"What is it you're suggesting, exactly?" he asked in a dangerous whisper. "That I risk my life so you can retrieve a beaded bag?"
Harry bowed his head. "It is vital that I retrieve the book, Professor," he murmured.
Severus fell silent. He waited for the boy's eyes to dare to meet his, but they didn't.
"Do you realise that the Death Eaters know now that I can fly?" he hissed. "That they know what I look like when I do? And that by now they've probably been informed that I'm not dead?"
"Yes, sir," he mumbled, head still bowed.
"Do you realise, Potter, that I'm probably Voldemort's second most wanted man right now, being the one who won Dumbledore's wand?" he insisted, masking a note of panic behind an air of fury.
"I… I realise."
Severus studied him. As much as he would've liked to deem the whole matter the idiotic ramblings of a reckless brat, all he read on that face was honest pleading. He turned away, reached for the door and placed a hand on the handle.
"Come with me," he commanded.
Harry complied.
They walked back to the Great Hall and reached the Slytherin table. Omegas was still stuffing herself with food. When she saw them, she swallowed a large mouthful and smiled at them.
"You were quick!" she remarked.
"Follow us," he said curtly.
She shot him a curious glance, then walked around the table without protesting.
The three of them hurried to his office. As soon as they entered, Severus shut the door and grabbed a ladder. He climbed it to reach one of the higher shelves.
Omegas looked at Harry. "What's going on?"
The boy shrugged.
Severus picked up a large, dusty jar and threw it into the woman's hands. She studied it, eyes wide.
"Is this… a Death's Head Hawkmoth Chrysalis?" she asked in amazement.
"Yes," he replied, descending the steps of the ladder.
Omegas looked at Harry again. She examined him from head to toe. "For him?"
Severus shook his head. "For me."
Her eyes widened further. She raised her eyebrows and gave an amused smirk.
"Do you have the other ingredients?" he asked, completely ignoring her reaction.
"Almost all of them," she replied. "We'll have to wait for the rain. But why—"
"Excuse me," Harry interrupted. "May I know what…" he gestured vaguely towards them.
Severus took a step towards him. "I don't intend to fly there in my own form, Potter," he declared.
"Fly where?" Omegas asked. "Wait… do you want to transform just to fly to a place and then come back?"
He gave her a completely blank look; she seemed increasingly impressed.
"Transform into what?" Harry asked, growing impatient.
They both turned. Omegas stepped closer to him, brandishing the large glass jar like a weapon.
"This is the Chrysalis of a Death's Head Hawkmoth," she explained. "It's used to make the Animagus Potion."
Harry's eyes darted to Severus', his mouth open in disbelief. "Professor… you—"
"I don't intend to get myself killed," he cut him off.
Harry seemed to be about to argue, but soon shut his mouth. He swallowed and gave a tentative nod.
Omegas spoke in his place.
"But it takes about a month just to brew it. Assuming there are no complications and you don't permanently turn into the animal you're trying to transform into. What would that be, by the way?" she asked curiously.
"Anything that flies," he replied.
"You have to get somewhere by flying?" she pressed.
They looked at each other in silence for a while. Severus still didn't trust her at all. But she was a soldier and had showed the correct amount of disgust towards Voldemort up to that point. He turned to Harry.
"Explain," he ordered.
"But, sir—"
"Do it."
Harry hesitated. He sighed deeply and reluctantly began to tell Omegas everything he had told the Professor.
"I can't use the Invisibility Cloak because the Death Eaters know I have it, and by now they'll be prepared for the possibility that I might use it to move around. It's too risky," he explained. "I can't get there on foot, or through the passage, because I'd come out of the shield, and even assuming there's nobody in the Shrieking Shack, the area will be watched. I need time to search for it. The only way is to fly. Well, not on a broomstick, of course."
Omegas, who had begun pacing the room with a finger to her lips, whispered a faint, "I see," before falling silent. When she spoke again, she did so directly to Severus, as though the boy was not present.
"Isn't there a single Animagus in the entire castle who turns into a bird?"
"There isn't," he replied grimly.
"And you can't get someone else to do it?"
"Like who?"
She shrugged. She resumed pacing at a growing speed.
"It's dangerous. Imprudent," she muttered to herself. "And it'd take too much time. And what if a Death Eater decides to go for a walk in the Shrieking Shack in the meantime and finds it? I mean, a month…"
"Do you have a better idea?" Severus snapped.
She turned to him. She hummed softly and gave a cunning smile.
"Maybe," she mumbled. "I don't know. I might."
She resumed her pacing.
"I might, I might, I might…" she chanted. She pointed a finger at Severus. "Give me twenty-four hours."
He raised an eyebrow. "Twenty-four hours?"
She nodded. "That's less than a month, isn't it?"
She turned and glanced away dreamily.
"It might not work… but if it does…" She chuckled. "I'll see you in the Astronomy Tower tomorrow."
Before any of them could reply, she had walked out of the room.
Severus and Harry watched her go, bewildered.
"Sir?" Harry asked after a moment.
"What?"
"Who is that woman?"
Severus shot him a venomous glare. "I might be able to find out if you stop interrupting me when I'm trying to."
He walked to his desk, sat down, and the boy knew he had been dismissed.
Twenty-four hours later, Severus set off for the castle's highest tower with Harry in tow, not having the slightest idea what to expect. Instead of bothering him as it usually did, for some reason, it intrigued him.
They walked through the doors of the tower and found Omegas already there. She was wearing a dark grey robe, the sleeves of which fell over her wrists in two thin laces. In front of her was her usual wooden table, and on the table was a cauldron much larger than the one she usually used. Beside her was a cage containing a large, squawking black raven.
"Oh, quiet," she grumbled, throwing what looked very much like a dead insect at it.
They approached the table with measured steps.
"Is the door locked?" she asked, not lifting her head from her work.
Severus took out his wand, waved it and the door sealed with a decisive click. He then brought his nose close to the pink fumes rising from the cauldron.
"What is it?" he asked.
Harry looked at him in astonishment. "You don't recognise a potion, sir?"
Severus turned slowly and gave the boy one of his best murderous looks.
"S-sorry, sir."
Omegas chuckled. "This isn't a potion," she explained, adding a new ingredient. "Not exactly. It's a sort of… it's more of a…"
She paused for a moment, trying to find the proper term.
"A ritual," she stated. "It hasn't been used for a long time. About that…"
She cast a furtive glance around, then leaned forward and lowered her voice considerably.
"Let's keep it between us, I really shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't even know how to do it, to be honest."
"Then how do you know how to do it, ma'am?" Harry asked, whispering back.
She gave him one of her usual mysterious smiles. "I saw a witch do it, on an island in the middle of the Caribbean," she confessed. "You see, there are places, Mr Potter, where a kind of magic much older and much darker than what you are used to still exists."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "How much darker?"
Omegas sensed the note of judgement behind the question. She seemed almost disappointed. She chose not to answer.
Harry approached her and spoke in an even fainter voice. "Are you about to cast an illegal spell?"
"No, I told you," she replied, suddenly more serious. "This is more of a ritual."
Harry fell silent.
She worked in silence for at least a quarter of an hour, adding ingredients and stirring determinedly. Severus followed the process closely, memorising what she added, in what quantities, how many times she stirred and in which direction.
Omegas gave a half-smile when she noticed. "I'll write down the procedure for you, if you like. But it's not very useful these days," she said, knowing full well that he would still want the details once they left.
When she had finished adding her ingredients, the liquid in the cauldron took on the colour and consistency of ink. She closed her eyes, sniffed it and grinned. Then she picked up a long silver knife and spread her arms in a theatrical gesture.
"Gentlemen, I must warn you. This might be quite the unpleasant watch," she announced.
Without further hesitation, she stuck the tip of the knife into the palm of her hand. A trickle of blood began to flow and dripped onto the wooden table.
Harry jumped slightly but said nothing.
She walked over to the large cage, opened it with her uninjured hand and took the raven under her arm.
"Help me hold it still, please," she said to Severus.
He rushed over and held the raven tightly in his arms.
Omegas squeezed its beak, forcing it open, and let a few drops of her blood drip into its mouth. She thanked Severus with a nod and took the raven back. She stroked its head gently and smiled softly as the raven closed its shiny black eyes.
"Sorry," she whispered. In one swift motion, she slit its throat.
Harry flinched again and let out a sound of sheer disgust. This time, Severus was quite startled as well. Still, no sounds came from him.
Omegas grabbed a goblet and let the raven's blood drip into it. Then she threw the bird's body into the cauldron, paused to look at it and widened her eyes for a moment.
"I can't believe I'm actually going to do this," she mumbled excitedly, "I've been waiting for this for ages!" She turned to Severus. "If I lose control, the only way to stop it is to take the bird and stab it. Clear?"
He nodded.
Omegas nodded back, raised the goblet and lifted her head. She gave them a wide grin that was anything but appropriate to the gravity of her actions.
"Cheers!" she exclaimed.
She drank the blood in one gulp.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then the woman inhaled the fumes of the potion and her head bent down unnaturally. Suddenly she let out a muffled moan, a sort of whimper, and her head snapped back up. Her eyes turned a brilliant white, with no trace of her violet irises or black pupils.
The raven emerged from the cauldron, squawking and shaking its feathers. Omegas began to whisper words, a sort of chant, and the raven spread its wings. It took flight, darting quickly out of the window and disappearing into the clear, warm summer sky.
Severus and Harry followed the bird with their eyes, leaning over the windowsill.
"What… what's happening?" Harry asked with a note of concern. "What's she doing?"
"Controlling it," Severus replied, his eyes fixed on her.
"The… the raven?"
"Not the raven, no," he whispered. "The raven's corpse."
He momentarily lost control of his expression. There was a peculiar, at times disturbing, light in his black eyes. His lips were curled in a half-smirk, his gaze was alert, and he showed an interest in what he was watching that anyone, including the boy next to him, would have deemed inappropriate.
The two stood in silence for quite some time, while Omegas continued to utter unintelligible words in the same melodious murmur. After a while, the chanting suddenly stopped and she shook. Harry, who had been sitting on the windowsill, stood up abruptly, while Severus, who had been pacing the room restlessly with his hands clasped and his long cloak billowing, quickly reached the table and watched her with eager eyes. A few seconds later, however, she resumed her chanting.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"I believe… she found the bag," Severus replied.
A few more minutes went by. Gradually, over time, Omegas' voice seemed to grow louder.
Harry rose from his perch on the windowsill again. "Why is she—" he began, but the other silenced him with a wave of his hand.
Another five minutes. Omegas' voice grew so loud that Severus feared her vocal chords would give out. She gripped the edge of the table tightly, her nails digging into the grooves of the wood. She began to sway from side to side, as if guided by the wind, with increasing energy.
Suddenly, she made such a sharp turn that she almost lost her balance. Harry jumped to support her, but Severus blocked his path with an arm.
"Don't touch her, Potter!" he commanded.
Finally, Omegas began to turn crimson. By then, the sounds she was making were low and guttural; she seemed completely out of control.
"Sir, we have to do something!" the boy shouted. "She's suffocating!"
Severus didn't move a muscle. He watched as her lips turned an eerie shade of purple.
"SIR!" Harry cried.
But Severus had already darted to the open window.
The raven flew in squawking and dropped a pink beaded bag into Harry's hands. Severus drew his wand and pointed it at the bird. It was drawn towards him and let out another mournful cry. Holding it firmly in his hands, he took the dagger and stabbed it through the heart in one swift motion.
Omegas coughed sharply. She breathed air into her lungs for several seconds as her irises and pupils returned to their normal positions. When the long, slow breath ended, she fell to the ground with a thud.
Severus and Harry were immediately beside her.
She raised a trembling arm and pointed at the desk. "Red… bottle," she croaked.
Harry turned and grabbed a small glass bottle of scarlet liquid. He handed it to Severus, who immediately uncorked it and helped Omegas take a sip. When the bottle was empty, she managed to sit up.
"Did… it… work?" she asked, her breathing still ragged. "Did I… do it?"
Severus nodded vigorously.
"It was… horrible. I thought I would die," she said. She smiled widely. "Amazing!"
Harry blinked and frowned in disbelief. He turned to the Professor, only to find him nodding with even more energy and determination.
Severus helped Omegas to her feet and the two locked eyes. Harry, uncomfortable, glanced between them a few times, then walked away in silence, still clutching his bag tightly.
Omegas snapped out of that silent stare and watched the boy go. "You're welcome!" she snarled.
Severus turned, suddenly remembering that the boy was present, that what she had done had been only to help him, and that there were other things in the world besides ancient rituals and raven corpses.
"Th… thank you, ma'am," Harry mumbled.
She let out a huff, shook her head and unlocked the door with a wave of her wand. The boy disappeared around the corner without uttering another word.
Severus and Omegas looked at each other again. She cleared her throat and took a step forward, but her legs gave away and she lost her balance. He approached her and put his arms around her shoulders to help her stand, but she shook them off.
"I'm fine."
"You need to lie down," he retorted.
"Yeah, maybe," she admitted.
"Come on, I'll take you to the old hospital wing."
"Oh, I don't want to go to the hospital wing," she grumbled. "I'm fine."
"You can't stand," he countered.
"Then I'll just lie down, what do I need the hospital wing for?" she asked irritably.
He ran his eyes over her face and considered for a moment.
"I can't take you to my quarters, they're in the dungeons," he said softly. "We're in the highest tower of the castle."
She took a deep breath. "I can manage."
She looked straight ahead of her. Under his astonished gaze, she took the first step towards the door, then the second, then the third.
"See?" she said cheerfully. "Nothing a pumpkin juice and a nap can't fix."
She reached the door and started to go through, but turned back to him.
"Do me a favour, will you?" she whispered. "Get rid of that stuff. I doubt anyone in the castle knows what it is, but… well, better not risk it."
Severus stared at her, motionless, and Omegas decided to take it as tacit agreement. She turned and made her way to the stairs with increasingly steady and regular steps.
The conversation they had the following evening was one of the most interesting. Severus went to the Great Hall to fetch some food and brought it back to his quarters. The two of them ate there, alone, away from prying ears.
He needed to know everything. What was that ritual? Where had she seen it? What had it been used for? Were there others? How dangerous were they? Why had he never seen anything like it before? And yet he had been up to his neck in the Dark Arts for over twenty years.
She was delighted.
"I've been wandering the world for seven years, seeing and doing the oddest things. No one has ever asked me to tell them about it. Can you believe it?"
Severus couldn't believe it.
Omegas spent hours talking about her travels. She spoke of small communities of wizards in South Asia who believed that tools that channel magic, such as wands, were limiting, and who learned to cast spells without moving a muscle or uttering a word, in silent meditation.
She spoke of sorcerers in North Africa who believed that the bigger the tool, the more powerful the spell, and so they walked around with mighty staffs, over two metres high, which they struck on the ground to produce magic.
She spoke of Italian Esotericism, which she had seen with her own eyes.
"There was a case, and it wasn't so long ago, it's relatively recent!" she said gleefully, as the fourth goblet of elf-made wine was filled and promptly downed. "These parents… they did something to their son. It's not clear what, but anyway… they did… experiments. And he became some sort of… some sort of…"
She couldn't find the words, but a disgusted grimace on her face conveyed the idea well enough.
She spoke of small groups of witches, all female, who insisted on meeting in covens, as in the old days, in North America, and of stagnant, rotting swamps in the Caribbean Islands, where witches were able to cast curses without the target being present, simply by creating an effigy or uttering the victim's name.
He listened, spellbound. Why had he never travelled? How much was there to discover outside the small world in which he had retreated all these years? He had dedicated his life to a single cause… and when that was over? And when Voldemort was finally dead? He had never thought there would be an after, and now the After was there, slapping him in the face with all the life he had refused to live.
He had put off the moment for too long, and by the sixth glass of wine he knew he could no longer hold back the thought that had been tormenting him for weeks. He did not want to die. It wasn't a happy thought to have in the middle of a war.
"Is everything all right?" she asked, forcing him out of his thoughts.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Yes," he replied, in the desperate attempt of maintaining a flat tone.
He felt embarrassed. He wasn't used to showing any other air than his usual solemn, stern scowl, and the thought of risking it with that woman, who seemed almost unflappable with her talk of resilience and the aura of mystery that followed her everywhere, made him shudder.
So he asked the first question that came to mind. He didn't ask because he particularly wanted the answer; he'd had enough for the evening. He asked just to talk.
"You said you've been travelling for seven years."
She nodded, shaken by a small hiccup, while with a flick of her wand she filled her glass for what, if he hadn't lost count, must have been the fifteenth time.
"You're thirty-one," he noted.
She smiled and looked at her distorted reflection in the bellied glass. "I am, aren't I?" she said, slurring considerably. "Isn't it odd to be over thirty?"
Severus ignored the question.
"If you're thirty-one, you must have finished your studies… thirteen years ago," he added, taking a little too long to do the maths.
"That's right," she nodded.
"But you said you've been travelling for seven years."
"Mhm," she confirmed, taking another sip.
Severus counted again in his head. "There are six years missing," he concluded.
At that, Omegas did something bizarre: she stopped smiling.
Severus had never seen her without a smile on her face. He'd seen smirks, cryptic smiles, polite ones, unsettling grins; at most, he'd seen her wear an impassive smile that didn't reach her eyes. But he'd never seen her round face crossed by such a deep, intense and, above all, painful expression. He furrowed his brow, while she, lost in a thought too complex for her tipsy brain, didn't notice that she had been silent for several minutes.
Severus positioned himself between her and the undefined point on which her vacant gaze was fixed. His black eyes locked on her violet ones, which seemed on the verge of tears, and he just couldn't help himself. The curiosity was too much, and her eyes were there. She had been drinking, and there was a chance she wouldn't have noticed anyway. It was a moment of weakness, and Severus did it. He broke her rules. He read her mind.
He saw a long stretch of fine sand, crowded with people. A scorching summer sun was high above his head, while children shouted, teenagers laughed and a few dogs barked. She was sitting on an uncomfortable-looking rock, occupying the only patch of shade on the whole beach. She didn't look much younger, but her eyes were less tired, her gaze less intense.
A guitar melody played in the distance; as it came closer and closer, the smile on her face grew wider. She raised her head to meet a boy's gaze. He had dark skin, a wrinkled nose and thick curly hair frizzy from the salt. He held out his hand and gave her a smile even brighter than hers.
"Coming?"
She scolded him with a fond look. "You know I can't stand the light for too long."
"Then just stand it for a while," he said.
She hesitated, but let herself be convinced almost immediately. She grabbed the boy's hand and he dragged her to the shore, amidst the nearby group of people.
"NO!" she roared.
Severus jolted awake and found himself back in his armchair. They looked at each other. Neither of them could manage a single word.
He thought about lying, telling her he hadn't seen anything, but he didn't want to disrespect her up to that point. He thought about admitting with nonchalant bravado that yes, he had done it, and to hell with her bloody rules. She'd been stupid enough to lower her guard in front of a man who had been asking her questions about her past for weeks. For some reason, he couldn't do it. He thought about saying 'I'm sorry,' but the idea made him feel sick. Eventually, all he did was keep his silence.
Three times Omegas opened her mouth to speak. The first time she seemed about to scream; but she didn't. The second time, Severus was convinced that she would have hurled insults at him if she had gone through with it; but that didn't happen either. Finally, she smiled again. It was one of the impassive ones that didn't reach her eyes.
"Couldn't resist, could you?" she hissed.
He couldn't even shake his head.
She took out her wand, pointed it at herself, and a faint pink glow came from the tip. Nothing seemed to happen. Then Severus looked at her more closely and noticed that the flush in her cheeks had disappeared, along with the bright sparkle in her eyes.
She stood up, turned her back to him and took the cloak from the rack by the door, draping it over her shoulders. Severus opened his mouth to ask, 'Where are you going?' but before he could, she had already answered.
"Night shift. The galleon's getting warm."
She walked away, knowing full well he wouldn't believe the lie.
[1] Professor Gregorius Zakoten is mentioned in a Harry Potter roleplay game set in 2061/2062. He is said to be the former Venoms teacher at Durmstrang before arriving at Hogwarts in 2061. He will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, while his assistant, Marcus de la Crue, will be teaching History of Magic. This will be not only relevant in the following stories, but also perfectly plausible plot-wise.