Void, Dust and a Potions Master
Dedicated to a good friend Sven Crofton
Disclaimer: All of the Harry Potter characters belong to J.K.Rowling. Not made for profit, made for fun (or whatever)
Chapter one - Nights of being foreboding
Collecting Herbs in the Darkest of Woods
The Harbinger, Judith Hemice and Severus Snape
Bad Moon Rising
Another school year was starting. Holidays flew over like a dream. He spent most of his free time closed off from the world in various rooms of the dungeon. His room, his office, his study-room, his laboratory, his personal library. His. Everything in here was familiar and off limits to everyone. It was a very reassuring feeling. While he was sitting behind an oak writing table, in front of an enchanted embrasure, which was showing the cloudy sky of outside world, Severus felt very safe. The problems of wizarding part of society were suddenly so far away, they weren't more than a delirious delusion. Stacks of old books, kettle of coffee. Lives of yesteryear's scholars, portrayed on paper or parchment.
But nothing is perpetual. His usually blank expression was replaced by a sullen one. He disliked the children, not understanding them. The only reason why he was here was an old promise from the time when someone abused his youthful stupidity. It was binding him to this place. Well, it wasn't like he had any warm home to return to, just an old, abandoned house. Those wretched little humans. Their age was absolutely no excuse. Each one of them could be a pillar to form the stability of the world. Could be. The only barriers were their empty heads.
Stability. That was one of his drives why to bother fighting, back then in the old days when he wore ivory mask and his mark shone like liquid obsidian, flowing under his skin. He didn't care, who will win, as long as someone actually would. It made very little difference to his world.
Grading the new batch of essays he collected just today, his gaze suddenly fell on the calendar. It was the eight of September. Half past nine in the evening. Already? Has he been here for such a long time? Dinner time was gone ages ago. If he would hurry up a bit, he could still make it in time. After all, today was one of the very special days in Forbidden Forest. The day of Lada and Lad, an ancient god-couple. It wasn't as powerful as the Midsummer or Midwinter's night, but still, herbs collected today had a higher energy level than normally.
He put a cloak on. Grey - not black. The wand was replaced by a bronze sickle. Creatures deep in the Forest were usually quite ill-disposed towards all wizards. And you can tell a wizard by his wand. As Severus wanted to keep his head, innards and various limbs a bit longer, he put his normal Potions-master attire aside.
The air was slightly cooler and evening dew started to form on the vivid-green blades of grass. It stained his garb and feet in sandals. No one seemed to notice when he crossed the threshold of the first trees. He could smell a distant fire; maybe even hear rhythmical pounding, if it wasn't his own heart.
First he discovered angelica, growing in the ash and maple part of the forest. This had to be his lucky day – an especially powerful angelica. The draught of its seeds and roots was antispasmodic, used to treat hysteria, epilepsy, insomnia and of course the aftermaths of a cruciatus curse. Carefully he dug one plant after another and bound them together with long strands of grass. Next was catnip, with its effects similar to those of angelica. Severus almost snickered imagining what would happen if he was to put a toy-mouse stuffed with catnip in Minerva's office.
A fog started to rise from the trees, enveloping everything. Luckily he made trips to the forest quite often, so his sense of orientation didn't depend on sight anymore. Without a hurry he tied the last bunch of catnip together and went deeper in among the trees, only to find himself in a place unknown. This was rather puzzling. Someone had to have a hand in the game, for he would never get lost this near the school. He kept on walking. There was nothing else to do aside from sitting down and waiting for a miracle.
The woodland in here was much more open. Instead of dense oaks with twisted branches, dead and dried-up spruces protruded from the ground, overgrown with bunches of yellowish grey grass. Mist was still here and nothing seemed to be alive. No birds, insects, animals. Only great black boulders, moist with dew, covered in moss. He went on, placing his feet carefully on the grass-turfs. Many of the trees lay decaying on the ground, their broken branches sharp enough to penetrate skin and muscle. It was cold in here as well. Too cold for this time of year, even though night was approaching. The stench of rotting leaves and dead animals hung in the air, even though there weren't any around. Sky was an unmoving scene of heavy and foreboding dark clouds. They weren't swelled with life-bringing rain, but with a sterile nothingness.
As he passed a small bog-lake, the odour of decay got especially pungent. There was a dead body, bloated and grey, floating on the water. A young girl, Severus noticed vaguely. Nothing really to get upset about. He saw many corpses in his younger days. Everything that's alive will eventually turn into this, including himself. He got more excited when discovering a narrow dusty pathway. He laid a foot on it, the surface didn't seem right. This only supported his growing belief that this place is either another world or in his mind.
The first noise not made by him, made Severus naturally jump. It was his life-long dislike – sudden noises, especially those behind his back. Loud cracking of a branch, few tens of meters away, the source hidden in the fog. Severus didn't speed up, nor did he stop, although admittedly he was unsettled. Even more so, when a new sound appeared in the same direction. It was a damped thumping of big hooves getting nearer and nearer. Feeling his heart beat, Severus slouched his head so the curtain of the lanky hair, matted even more by the omnipresent dampness, fell around his face. It made him feel slightly calmer. When the horse was so near he could feel the ground vibrate, it suddenly stopped and moved to his side. A monstrous disfigured steed, the bones coated with pale hair. Its belly was as bloated as the corpse's and ugly bald patches stretched over it, making him shudder. And there was a foot of a rider, bony, with many steel anklets. Severus stopped.
"Good evening, sir." He said in a well-behaved way, bowing his head slightly. If he was going to be killed, then not because of lack of manners.
"Good evening to you, pilgrim." Answered a whispering, hoarse voice. The rider dismounted.
Severus was pretty tall and still this man surmounted him by at least three heads. In many ways they seemed similar - gaunt and pallid, with an air of dead-stillness around them. The rider had dark, murky-green eyes, like the strange moss covering those boulders. His hair was very long and frizzy, charcoal in colour, with many thin braids, falling over simple linen garb. All over his body, there were symbols of an eye, either drawn on his forehead, or as jewellery.
For some time they walked in silence, so Severus deduced he was supposed to start first. Fine by him.
"Do you have, maybe, an explanation of why am I here? I do not believe I got here on my own."
"I am sorry. I was crossing the spaces and one of the portals must've escaped. I am Awame, the harbinger. I go from place to place to make records of unfortunate events. What is your name, pilgrim?"
"My name is Severus Snape. I am a Potions teacher at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We have a common destination, don't we?"
"Yes. You are right, professor Severus Snape. Once again, you shall witness suffering and death. Do you still care? …Oh I apologize. I was already watching you some time ago and I know that you never cared anyway."
Severus made many next steps in a silence. Although theoretically this path should lead deeper and deeper in the forest, he was sure they'd end up right in front of the school.
"It's not like I can change anything, so why should I bother. What for was this quasi-world created anyway. You can move as fast as you wish, without the need for any transit worlds."
"Every creature, no matter how cold the heart, has a desire to create something, from time to time. I didn't make this place. You stepped in a stray cloud of conception. It was shaped after you. Naturally an entity such as myself is attracted to such landscape."
"I see."
The dusty track under their feet graded slowly into a floor made out of big blocks of basalt. Dead grass was sprouting in the gaps. The hooves were making a dull noise, which wasn't carried anywhere. Once finding out that this place was his, Severus knew which memories it was shaped after. Only one was escaping his grasp.
"Do you know who the corpse in the lake was?"
"Hm…let me see." Awame took out a thesaurus-thick notebook and shuffled through the delicate pages.
"Oh yes. This girl's name was Judith Hemice. Poisoned by her own father for not being suitable for dark arts, via your potion. Remember now?"
"Ah yes. Hemice Judith, third-year Slytherin when she died."
"Her soul is enraged. It wants revenge. It wants to kill, but can't enter the world of living. It's forever trapped in this purgatory."
"Well, I can't do anything about it."
"Actually you can. She wants blood. Give her blood. Then she'll be able to get a real body. The decision is your."
Severus felt curiosity rising in his chest. As if it felt his decision, the bog with the corpse appeared by his side again. Severus, Awame and the horse all stopped. The potions-master took out his sickle, exposed his wrist and slit it with four neat cuts. Holding it over the corpse, a trickle of blood poured on the body and in the water. When it came in contact with ghastly skin, boils appeared and smoke of a repulsive smell rose.
"How long?" asked Severus after a while, feeling a bit light-headed.
"When it's satisfied, it will stop your bleeding."
Moments passed, seeming long and short in the same time. The dead body almost completely melted, leaving a layer of mucus swimming on the surface. Suddenly it shot up, right into the gashes, culminating through the veins through his body. Severus fell on his knees, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. Resentment of brothers. Fathers hate for being incompetent. Mother's hurt and accusing eyes, for she thought her daughter's failure as her own. The feeling of frustration and helplessness, when classmates bullied her. The reptile-cold, unfeeling stare of her housemaster, telling her it's absolutely unimportant for the world, whether she lives or dies.
A strong hand clutched his shoulder and put him back on his feet again. Severus blinked. He felt stinging in his palms. Holding them in front of his face, there were marks of fingernails dug in the flesh. Slowly his pulse began to drop again.
"Are you well, professor Severus Snape?" Awame asked. "Or do you want to use my horse."
"No, thank-you. I am alright."
He stood up. His legs were a bit like jelly, but that was about it. A thick white bandage covered the wounds on his wrist. It was from his first aid kit, which he carried on every trip. Gazing at the pool, the mucus was all gone, leaving an oily stain on the water. A big black cat stood on the bank. It had uneven eyes. One green and one yellow.
"She shall go with you now, to wait for an opportunity."
The cat climbed up on his shoulder.
Then the dreamscape dissolved into thin air and they were standing by the castle, just like Severus predicted.
"I am going as well, to watch the events unfold, unseen. I wish you luck, professor Severus Snape."
"Thank-you and farewell."
Awame vanished and Severus, carrying Judith on his shoulder, returned to the castle. The great clock was showing ten minutes past midnight and the school wasn't still at all. Judith jumped down and disappeared in the shadows as Severus descended to the dungeons to drink some blood replenishing potions.