The Serpent and the Sorceress - Book 1: Shadows Rising

Chapter 3

Severus Snape sat at the edge of his four-poster bed, facing a large window that overlooked the sweeping grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The view itself was breathtaking, and everything from the sparkling sapphire lake to the tops of the Forbidden Forest, splashed with reds and yellows and browns of autumn, triggered an appreciative gasp from nearly anyone who'd witnessed it - except for him. His deep, dark eyes were not taking in the scenery, but were focused downwards and narrowed as they traced a grotesque mark on his left forearm.

The Dark Mark, consisting of a skull that stared up at him with empty eye sockets and a snake slithering out of it's gaping jaws, was a burden he'd borne for over a decade, and served as a constant reminder of a violent past he could never forget. Fragments of suppressed memory from those times haunted him every day, existing within the shadows of his mind, locking him in his own prison.

Even sleep was no refuge from the past, as his dreams were nearly always tainted with remnants of memory that could not be consciously recalled. These dreams were the worst. The violence was heightened, the screams more desperate as the blood flowed thicker, and the sense of realism caused him each night to jolt upright in bed, drenched with sweat, the Mark searing with pain - reminding him that he was never safe from his memory.

Lately, his dreams were less of bloodshed and battle, but more of darkness, anxiety and guilt. This final emotion seemed to fester in him, growing stronger each night as it burrowed deeply beneath his skin. In some dreams he felt the pain of the families, learning that their loved ones had died. In others, he stood frozen and chained on a battlefield, doomed to watching thousands die, over and over, calling out for help, pleading with him for their lives - and all he could do was watch, unable to save them.

Then, there were the dreams about the snake. The same dreams came to him, though less frequently than the others. They all started out the same - the snake with ruby eyes sitting on a pillar. He always felt himself being drawn to the snake, but whenever he got close to it, it always lashed out at him, biting him, poisoning him with its deadly long fangs, and each time he felt himself dying. Each time just as slow and agonizing.

He'd dreamt of the snake again that past night, his first back at Hogwarts, but this time it did not kill him right away. It had spoken to him, in a low voice, thought its words had been hard to decipher as its language was broken by hisses. At first it had just watched him, seeming to be almost amused by his cautiousness. It had asked him if he ever gave up, then began speaking of things Severus couldn't now remember, and at the time couldn't understand. Whenever he broke in to ask questions for clarification, the snake had paused in annoyance and then continued with what it had been saying before the interruption. From what he did understand and remember, it was clear that there was a warning hidden beneath the snake's lengthy speech.

From what and whom, Snape could not answer, though awake, now tracing the Mark delicately with a finger, a motion that had become habit, he believed he knew what it had been about. The Death Eaters. They would be coming after him, to silence him for good. Bits and pieces of the dream came back to him every so often, but when he tried to reach for them, they vanished as quickly as they came.

Frustrated as yet another dissipated into thin wisps of nothingness; Severus tried turning his thoughts back to the present and on what was being planned. The proposal had been elaborate, but not needlessly, as the task itself was complicated on the whole. It was something that had been planned for a great deal the previous year, and ironed out that summer.

The boy's death - Cedric Diggory's - had only fuelled the need to put it into action. It had been hard to ignore the accusatory glares that Amos Diggory, the boy's father, had bestowed upon him that night. Diggory knew of his past and would never forgive him, irregardless of the fact that he'd had nothing to do with what was happening presently. He'd been weak enough to affiliate himself with that group, so time didn't matter. The Ministry, however, had forgiven him, Albus Dumbledore had forgiven him and employed him, but he had yet to forgive himself, along with many others who believed him to be a monster.

Yet how can I say they are wrong? He thought silently, pulling himself to a standing position. He allowed his eyes to stray from the Mark to the world beneath his window, but he didn't spend time absorbing it - he didn't even really see it. He was too involved with his thoughts to even notice someone bursting into his room.

"Severus!" The voice was right beside his ear.

Whirling around, Snape turned to face the intruder, his wand poised to strike in front of him. His eyes locked with a pair of pale blue ones, and his arm dropped.

"Remus." He spat the name out bitterly.

The brown haired man in front of him, dressed in shabby gray robes, stared at him for a moment, as if about to ask him something, but he shook his head. "There's been an accident with the Hogwarts Express," he said, watching the other man, while seeming to choose his words carefully. "Albus has asked us all to go and help. He sounded worried, Severus. I don't believe this is just a stalling. We are to leave immediately." Severus was about to respond when Remus added, "They are about 30 minutes outside of Hogsmeade, just crossing the ravine. Haste, I believe, is of utmost importance."

Snape dismissed Remus with a brisk nod and watched coldly as the man threw powder into his fireplace and walked through the rising flames. Even then he could not quite forget what had transpired between them, during school days and those of the present, but he had no time to muse on those thoughts, they were allies now. He quickly gathered several vials that he thought might aid in healing any injuries, then stepped through the fireplace as well.

Without a second glance around him, Severus knew he was in the basement of the Three Broomsticks. Because it was impossible to Apparate anywhere within Hogwarts, the fireplaces had been connected to the Floo network for convenience. Once in Hogsmeade, Severus was able to Disapparate, and without further consideration of his surroundings, he did.

He appeared milliseconds later on a patch of grass outside of Hogsmeade. He could only estimate his destination based on the information Remus had provided him, but found himself staring up at the hulking wreck of the Hogwarts Express. The air was heavy, and tendrils of fog wrapped themselves around the train, enveloping it in grayness so that from his distance, Severus was just barely able to distinguish the engine and cars, tilted precariously to one side. Below it, he knew, though could not see, was a deep ravine.

A loud groan from bending metal sent him into action at once, pulling out his wand and shouting a charm that would make the track like a magnet, attracting the wheels and securing the train, at least temporarily. From one person, the charm wasn't a strong one, and could break at any time. It occurred to him then that he was indeed the only person standing in front of the train - not even Remus was anywhere close to the area. A new heaviness descended upon him, not from the weight of the air, but rather what it carried. He felt it now. The train had been cursed, and the site had been warded by binding spells that only few were powerful and skilled enough to conjure. But how had he made it past? He shook his head, and another thought came to him - somewhere the Death Eaters lay waiting - perhaps even in the train.

He began to walk closer, and murmurs broken by sporadic shouts for help began to rise from the wreck, penetrating the dense gray fog. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he quickened his step as he walked towards the train. Throwing a final glance around him, Severus reached up to pull open the door of one of the cabins, growling in frustration when it wouldn't budge.

Muttering softly, he tried various spells to unlock it, but found that nothing would make it move. Finally, in anger, he dug into his robes and pulled out a small vial of amber liquid. Uncapping it quickly, he threw it at the door, and watched with satisfaction as the metal melted into a molten puddle on the tracks, but it quickly turned to a grimace as shrill screams pierced the fog.

When he entered through the gaping hole, he was greeted by more screaming, until he'd given each individual there such a cold glare that they clamped their mouths shut and watched him fearfully. He didn't recognize their faces, first years obviously, but was shocked to see that none of them seemed to have suffered any injury from the crash. By the look of the engine as he'd walked past, they'd hit something, but what he couldn't determine - the track in front of the Express had been clear of any obstacles. He decided against speaking to the first years, considering it a waste of time, and so pushed himself awkwardly through into the next cabin, before calling back over his shoulder, "rather than gawking at me stupidly, get yourselves out of the train!"

In the next cabin he was not met with screams, but rather with some sighs as several third years he'd taught recognized him. One boy, Christopher McPherson, Ravenclaw, had had his wand out, ready to attack. Severus scoffed at the boy's trembling arm and brushed past them. Before he reached the other cabin door he turned around to find all their eyes still on him, silently watching. He was struck again with wonderment when he noticed that none of them had even the slightest scratch on their bodies. "Has anyone come through here?" he asked them sharply, his eyes sweeping across each in turn. A girl with brown hair to her chin, Juliana Boyd, Hufflepuff, nodded. "One," she said, then cowered slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

"Which way?" he was barked, and the girl jumped slightly as if he'd lifted his arm to strike her. Trying to match his gaze, she pointed towards the door he'd been about to leave through. "Get out of the train, now," he commanded, and then whirled around, opening the door carefully before entering the next cabin. Again, he was met by apprehensive faces, these students were still older, sixth years, and watching him as he stalked through their cabin. They too, were free of injuries. He repeated his command and watched as they gathered themselves to leave.

This continued until he reached what he assumed to be the end cabin, and wrenched open the door. In front of him were two fifth years that he knew well - Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were both present, along with a third form sprawled on the floor which was undoubtedly Harry Potter, the third musketeer. There was no time for bitterness however, as he'd spotted the cloaked figure leaning over Harry, clutching his face with white knuckles. It hastily let go when it heard Severus enter.

"What's...what's going on here?" He demanded, and the sound pierced the otherwise silent cabin. The figure began to rise, unsteadily, and lurched towards him. His mind racing, Severus whispered a familiar curse and instantly the figure froze, bound by millions of invisible threads. It was Granger who found her voice first.

"Professor - it's -" but she was cut off by Weasley who broke in, "What are you doing? Are you mad?" and a groan from Potter followed by a weak, "Professor Snape, what are YOU doing here?"

They began talking together at once, so fast that Severus was tempted to bind them too, just to shut them up so he could think. Why would the Death Eaters only send one to collect Potter? He decided already that that was what they must have intended - to collect Potter on the Express where he'd be vulnerable, at least so long as their wards stayed in place. He supposed then that one was all that was necessary to complete the task.

"Silence," Severus said, his voice rising only slightly. At the sharpness of his command Granger and Weasley stilled their tongues, though Potter continued trying to explain. "It's not - not what you -" but he fell silent when Severus glared at him. Insolent children, all of them, not realizing how close they'd just been to being killed.

Severus looked back at the frozen Death Eater and undid the invisible weaves binding its mouth. "Who are you and why are you here?" Severus demanded, gripping his wand tightly, "Speak!"

The figure muttered something unintelligible, and its head rolled, but it said nothing otherwise. "I said speak!" Severus roared, and then spouted another curse from his wand almost unconsciously; one that from the outside appeared strangely to have no affect on the figure suspended in front of him, but he knew better then to assume it was having no effect. The Acusus curse was often used by Death Eaters when questioning their prisoners. To the victim, it seemed like thousands of needles were being pressed into their skin, and the castor controlled the depth and severity, from minor discomfort to excruciating pain, all the while no physical evidence remained once the curse was removed. In those days Snape had preferred this curse to the Unforgivables, though wondered how it had not made the list. He speculated that the Ministry used it as well and couldn't blame them; it was a very handy tool.

Still the figure made no sound. Pocketing his wand, Severus marched over to the frozen shape that was now trembling slightly and pulled back the hood in one sweeping motion. Night black hair spilled over slender shoulders that were hunched in pain. A pale face with high cheekbones winced sporadically as muscles tightened uncontrollably, and beads of perspiration began to form on - her - forehead. Severus gasped when he saw her and abruptly cried "Finite Incantatem" the moment his fingers touched the polished wood of his wand. The woman dropped to the floor with a thud, her body still twitching as the effects of the curse subsided. He hesitated before pulling her upright, but saw as he tried to stand her that she'd fallen unconscious.

"Professor," Granger said timidly, standing and straightening her robes, "She saved Harry. She wasn't here to hurt him - she just - it was the most amazing thing really, she just put her hands on his face and -"

"Are you finished with your nattering, you foolish girl?" Severus broke in angrily as he set the woman on the cabin bench. "She could have just as soon killed Potter as helped him. She may still intend to, how do we know for sure? Maybe the Dark One wanted Potter alive." Granger looked abashed, her face flushing. She hadn't thought of that, Severus realized with satisfaction. The little know-it-all had been put in her place at last, but now was not the time to worry about old scores being settled.

Turning back to the unconscious woman, Severus frowned. Evidence was not adding up - and how could she help Potter by touching his face? A memory in the back of his mind screamed to be recalled, but he couldn't bring it into his consciousness. His eyes involuntarily traced the curve of her jaw line, and he found himself wondering how a woman as formidable as the one before him could be a Death Eater - an assassin - but quickly reprimanded himself for thinking such frivolous stupidity. A slightly attractive woman was no less dangerous than any other, perhaps more so if she came across as innocent. Yes, that was what it was. It wasn't that she was attractive to him, just that she seemed so innocent, so peaceful - such a stark contrast to everything the Death Eaters he'd known embodied.

Behind him, someone cleared their throat. "Professor -" it was Granger again, though more meek than she usually was. "Are we in any trouble at the moment? I mean, if, if she is a Death Eater - are there more?"

Before he could respond there was groan of shifting metal and the Express was pitched forward. Severus barely had time to grab onto the overhang to steady himself as the train and tracks groaned again, but smashed his knee into the wall so hard he had to bite his tongue not to let loose a string of profanity. The charm was fading, and unless the five of them got out of the train, they'd all be taking a swim - if they made it past the rocks.

"Out," he said hoarsely to the three fifth years sitting dazed on the floor. He pulled out another amber vial and threw it at the rear of the cabin. Instantly the wall melted away, and they obliged, helping Potter to his feet before exiting the cabin through the hole. Severus hesitated before reaching out to grab the unconscious woman - girl, really, she looked barely old enough to be out of Hogwarts herself - and pulled her into his arms. With a grunt of determination, he lifted her off the ground and rushed towards the exit as fast as the slanted floor would allow. He skidded twice before he reached the exit, but he didn't even think about how undignified he looked - he had to get out.

Despite his throbbing leg he jumped from the exit onto the track just in time, as the train gave a mighty lurch and the engine rolled free of the track and his charm.

The rest was about to follow, except that its motion was stopped by another invisible force. Turning, Severus saw Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Remus Lupin and several other staff members standing with their wands out, faces grim with determination as they muttered charms in unison. Levitating a train was no easy feat, regardless of the number of witches and wizards present. He noticed then too, as he stood on the track, that the fog had lifted and the air had gotten lighter - the barrier or force field was gone. Confined to the track while the train was in the way and sharp rocks jutted on either side, Severus decided to make use of the time and question the three students standing behind him.

"You said she saved Potter," he said softly, turning to them, his arms beginning to ache with the weight of what he carried. "How?"

Granger opened her mouth to speak, but Potter placed a hand on her arm and she closed it, allowing him to answer. "When the train hit I was thrown forward, and I guess knocked unconscious because I don't remember anything except feeling this - fire - rushing through me. I thought it was going to burn me up...consume me - but it seemed to burn up the pain, if anything. I opened my eyes and I saw her," he nodded towards the woman, "standing over me. She was holding my face and it felt like the fire was coming through her fingertips into my skin." He paused uncertainly, as if expecting Snape to throw in a biting retort, but continued when none came. "That was it really - but I feel - I feel as if I've slept for a full day, and my head -" he reached up and touched the top of his forehead, his eyes widening, "It's completely healed."

Snape nearly dropped the woman in his arms. A sudden rush of memory came flooding back, so real that he swore he could feel the very fire Potter spoke of crawling under his own skin. He couldn't attach it with any significance - it was buried too deep - but he felt the searing fire flooding from his cheeks into every corner of his body - within his very bones, even.

"Professor," Granger said slowly, watching him, "are you...well?"

Snape fixed her with the coldest look he could muster at the moment and answered curtly, "Quite, Miss Granger. You shall have to remind me to send you a thank you card for your concern." Biting her lip, Granger stared at him furiously, but she did not speak, as at that moment the train completely levitated off the track and was moved nearly three hundred feet onto an overgrown patch of weeds. With the track in front of him cleared, Snape strode briskly forward to join Dumbledore and deposit the woman he still carried.

When he approached, he became aware of the inquisitive looks that laced many faces. "How did you -" McGonagall began, but cut herself off abruptly when Dumbledore stepped forward.

"You may put her down, now, Severus," he said in a tired voice, wiping his forehead with a blue handkerchief, "She will not be going anywhere soon, I think." Grimacing as pain pierced the muscles of his cramped arms, Snape stooped down and laid the woman on the ground.

"Do you know her?" he demanded, as he stood upright. Dumbledore looked startled at the question, but the twinkle in his eyes quickly gave way to amusement, however briefly. "Indeed, Severus. That is Professor Jacobs, who was good enough to accept the Defense job with only a month of notice. We can discuss that later though, there are more pressing matters at hand. I believe you and I have some things to talk about. Once the carriages arrive from Hogsmeade to take the students to Hogwarts I'd like you to come to my office. We have time before the feast, and I was hoping you could answer some questions."

Severus matched Dumbledore's level gaze, inwardly cringing at the soft tone he'd been using, as if he was coaxing a frightened child to do something. "As you wish, Headmaster. The girl?" He'd hoped his tone had been casual enough.

"Minerva will see to her to the hospital wing, if that is necessary."

Again the carefully crafted tone Dumbledore spoke with irritated him. Were they going to blame him for the crash? Did they suspect he'd had some inside knowledge, as he'd been the only one past the barrier - if indeed there had been one? A sharp stab from his left forearm sent his right hand to the spot, clutching it tightly, an unconscious response he'd acquired, though this time the pain sent spots dancing before his eyes. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose as he watched him intently.

"Worse?" He asked softly, so low that no one could hear. Snape hesitated before nodding, clenching his teeth. Before briskly looking around, Severus pulled up the dark robes so that the bottom part of the Mark was exposed. His eyes widened when he saw that it was not its usual black but rather a deep, almost emerald, green. In all the time he'd worn the Mark, he'd never seen it any colour but black. Dumbledore's intake of breath caused him to pull the robes back down self-consciously, hiding his disfiguration.

"What do you suppose," he mused, half to himself.

He looked up when he felt Dumbledore staring at him, and found the Headmaster studying him gravely over his half-moon spectacles. "I believe," Dumbledore said, his voice so low that Severus strained to hear it, "That he has considered your proposal and has his answer...indeed, not a moment too soon."