Disclaimer: Aside from the writing and a select few characters, nothing here is mine. I don't own Harry Potter, but if I did, I'd probably be quite happy right now…because I'm broke and my friends are off in Japan…
Chapter One: Crazed Rationale
The pale glow of the moonlight cast itself upon the town, barely illuminating the place and only slightly setting the silhouettes of the buildings apart from the ground and sky. The north star shone brightly, the only visible light in wake of the moon's orb. It was eerily quiet; the crisp breeze was unmoving, making no sound, and all was sleeping save for the crunch of footsteps on gravel. A shadowed man made his way down the path, his breathing near inaudible, his cloak swaying with each step. He stopped walking, surveying the area, and brandished what appeared to be a stick in the darkness. Still in complete silence, a light suddenly shot out from the tip, illuminating the area far better than the moon had been able to. Metres away, a beautiful mansion stood, magnificent in the night. The man approached, hesitant to knock, and sighed, conceding to do so. A minute passed after the raps, and the man turned to leave, stopped by the creaking of the opening door. A woman cautiously peered out from behind the frame, her long, fair hair hanging limply around her form. Her face suddenly morphed into concern upon recognition. "Severus…are you alright?" She opened the door fully, and motioned for the man to come inside.
He wasn't taken aback by her hospitality; no, he had expected it in lieu of the great deed had done for her with the Unbreakable Vow and in the absence of her husband. Upon disclosing his current position, she had offered him refuge in her home, and had his belongings sent over immediately. The Malfoy home had been made unplottable and was, quite possibly, the only place he could turn to in light of recent events and the only place he could remain undetected. He knew already of the lengths being taken to find him and he knew just how wanted a man he was, the price that was on his head. He sighed. Narcissa took this to be out of frustration at the bother of hiding, of moving to a new home, constantly on his guard, and in part, she was right. Mostly, though, mostly, it was because he had killed Albus Dumbledore, because he'd actually followed through with the plan, because none of the people he truly needed would never believe Dumbledore asked to be killed. "Don't worry, Severus," she said reassuringly, "things will improve. In time, the heat will die down." He barely managed to contain a livid snort. Will they, indeed, he thought, loathing the look plastered on the woman's bony face. His teeth ground together in his fury. She proffered some food to Severus, but he turned her down, forcefully polite, before heading off to his newly arranged room.
The smoke was beginning to pollute the air making it humid and sticky, the heat becoming unbearable. Still, despite this, Severus Snape sat, dressed in his full black ensemble, scrawling hastily over the parchment with his raven quill, occasionally looking up from his work to eye the potion steadily brewing to his far right. Snaking up from the cauldron was a periwinkle smoke, slowly changing its hue to a vivid green. This change appeared to be of importance as the man put down his quill and wandered over for closer inspection.
There sat, days away from perfection, a polyjuice potion.
Severus smirked at the sight of it, now deep and verdant, darkening and thickening as the minutes progressed. Soon, it would be time. Soon, at the very least, he could bid a proper farewell.
The radiance of dawn had only just begun to show her face, yet the dark basement room was busy. Long, slender fingers unfolded the fine paper, revealing a small cluster of black hairs. They lightly seized some, dropping them into the murky, viscous liquid below, then reached up towards the dark mane of Severus Snape, plucking a few hairs from the throng and adding them to the others. He stirred the cauldrons contents twice before ladling some of the contents into a glass.
He paused, breathing, reassuring himself that his competence would prevail. He brought the glass to his lips, parting them to allow the mixture to enter, and hurriedly swallowed the contents. Without a second thought, he returned to the cauldron, scooping more of the concoction into vials and flasks, ensuring he had every last drop stored and available to him. He adjusted the remaining hairs in the paper, folding it neatly again, unwavering in his attention even as the transformation took place. He slid it inside a vacant potions vial, barely noticing his foreign fingers, and set the bottle aside. At long last, he halted to assess the change. He spun around to look in the only mirror, small and relatively hidden, and the eyes that reflected his awe were familiar yet alien to him.
There, in the pristine surface, was not Severus Snape, but an elegant, enigmatic young woman with long, sleek, ebony hair and vibrant azure eyes. She touched upon the mirror in disbelief, staring at the unusual mix, but was broken from the trance by Narcissa bursting in. "Severus, I-" Snape spun around, amused and concerned. Narcissa simply stared back in fear. "Who a-" "Narcissa," he interjected, the voice reflecting his usual style only with higher pitch and a lavish amount of feminine sexuality, "the potion worked out perfectly." The other woman blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting the man to transform into the other sex.
Hogwarts was blissfully still and not one person bothered the slender young woman crouched before the white tomb. Severus let his hand glide over the marble face, muttering quietly to the man within, the man who could say nothing back. He thought back to the celebration held in his honour as he spoke, glaring off into the distance as he did, shamed of what he had accomplished. The sky was cloudy, a storm was approaching, and Severus felt it only befitting of his visit. He stood up, bowed his head, and wandered over to the majestic building, and knocked against the heavy door, patiently waiting, hoping for someone to open it, to speak to him.
A/N: A little short, but it got the point across. This is pretty much a song fic. This chapter was inspired by a dream and also by Aladdin Sane by David Bowie. If this keeps up, all the chapters will be Bowie inspired. Also, I'm working on fixing my paragraphs...because FFNet seems to hate my formatting.
"Millions weep a fountain, just in case of sunrise
Who'll love Aladdin Sane"