Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I apologize for the delay, I had a few health problems and midterms which really messed up my plans. But I want to update this story on a more regular basis. I have the plot planned up to a certain point so things should move along well after this chapter.

Also thanks so much for all the lovely reviews, they really make my day! I answered all of them to the best of my ability at the end of the chapter.

As always, I hope you like it!

Chapter 3

They were in muggle London, walking down a busy street. They had left the Diagon Alley in a hurry, because Snape had wanted to escape the prying eyes of the wizarding world as soon as possible. He wanted to digest things in peace, if he can. There were many things he had to sort out.

Meanwhile, in the hustle and bustle, Snape didn't know where to start. He was dead. Or he had been at least. And frankly, he wasn't completely convinced of it yet. Indeed, he was missing for a year; and yes, maybe Potter did testify of his demise, but it did not necessarily mean that he had died for real. He was probably comotose for a while; as some snake species' poisons, in particular the coral snake that Nagini was, had a propensity to cause temporary paralysis.

Snape did not trust Potter's intelligence to recognize something so subtle, nor did he believe in the extreme metaphysical coincidences such as rebirth. The souls that left the earth did not come back. Necromancy only ensured that the corpse would move according to the will of the wizard, it did not grant them life: that was the first rule of Dark Arts. He'd have to visit this 'grave' of his, and investigate things himself. He had never credited the wizarding press before, especially not that rag Daily Prophet, and he wasn't going to start now.

Still though, he was dead for many people for so long. It was strange to it so. His life had ended, but their's moved on. He looked at his protruding red knuckles, and imagined it decaying and growing stiff; the sensation of dead and unmoving coming to him very easily. More easier than he was comfortable with.

This was going to take some time to get used to.

Resisting a groan, Snape rubbed his neck. The sun was scorching the back of it, aggravating skin uncomfortably. But, that was a minor issue next to what really gnawed on his nerves was Ms Lovegood right now. They had been trying to find somewhere for her to eat for about an half an hour, but she could not pick a place because of the most inane reasons he'd heard in his entire life.

She said the Indian restaurant gave off a bad infestation of nargles -Snape had to admit that it did not look extremely hygienic-, and claimed that the sandwich shop had a unpleasant color scheme. The Italian took the sun in the wrong position -indeed, the midday sun was rather harsh against the glass windows-, and she did not the smell of meat in one fast food restaurant, describing it as "a blend of suffering and salt", and the Turkish restaurant she felt more partial to was too crowded for Snape's taste.

"I am not going there Ms. Lovegood," he said with contempt, as he watched animated people waiting in line on the mouth of a small alleyway. Even the exterior of the shop was too cheery for him, the words "Haci Usta Kebab" grinning wickedly in bold red letters. The smell of cooked meat was overwhelming. Snape's eyes watered.

The girl nodded wisely, like he had just said something very deep and intricate, "You are right; there is a bad omen," she gestured a squatting bird, hovering above the queue. It inclined its head towards them, and let out a razor thin screech, scaring the people below, "Let's go somewhere else."

Although he was more than happy to move on, Snape had never been a particularly superstitious man. Raving old tales were more of Dumbledore's expertise. "A bad omen," Snape repeated, his voice deceptively silky, "And what does a flying chicken mean exactly, Ms. Lovegood?"

Ms. Lovegood hesitated for a second. "I know they may not always be true, but I, well- it reminds me of things. Things I sometimes forget. Just like clear skys foretell that serene days will come even after darkest moments," she shrugged, "Buzzards, sir, are clever birds, but they've been hunted for many years and now their kind is nearly gone out. So they are always alert; they are the ones that the enemies are always watching. They remind me to be wary of unseen danger, especially when I am too-" she cut herself off, her tone a tick more unhappy. She was frowning at her silver bracelet, perhaps it was his imagination but for a moment he thought she looked somber, mournful even. When she shifted her wrist slightly, the metal hare blinked at Snape merrily. He averted his eyes.

"Continue to talk more like that and all you're going to get is a Tesco sandwich," he muttered under his breath, the darkness etched onto his features despite the sunlight.

Ms Lovegood, with a conscientiousness he did not think she possessed, changed the subject. "Let's eat there!" she pointed at the end of the street, "My mother used to take me there. Fish and chips was good, and I always named the food there. It tasted better that way."

Snape grunted noncommittally, as they barely avoided a speeding bus while crossing the street. He craned his neck to glare at the chauffeur. That bloody idiot was going to kill him before he was alive for two days.

Ms Lovegood continued, looking hesitant, "And since I have- I have her wand with me today, I think it is good luck to go there."

"You have her wand with you," Snape repeated slowly, frowning.

"Yes, since you don't have one yourself."

Snape looked at her sharply, sizing her up, "Am I to expect trouble, Ms Lovegood?"

"No no, sir," she said, her wide eyes popping out more, "It's just a precaution."

Snape pursed his lips. Chiding himself to be more polite to her, he asked sourly, "You were saying?"

"Oh, yes-" she started, licking her lips, "I think its nice to remember they were all alive once. I can be friends with them once I die."

"With the fish?"

She nodded cheerfully, "Soles are cute."

Snape snorted derisively, "How splendid, Ms Lovegood."

'Cute'. What nonsense.

"They might take me swimming then too," she said, her eyes glazing dreamily, "In fact, I go to Sidmouth occasionally for the same reason, there is a lovely coast there, and the fish are very friendly. Although, daddy thinks the sand is cursed by the local government. Everyone knows that they want to keep the coast to themselves but not many knew that it was because they wanted to illegally hunt the island-fish."

Taken off guard, Snape's forehead creased in confusion, "The what?"

"The island-fish. They are very rare, only mentioned of a couple of documents, like Saint Brendan's Voyage. It is said that celebrating Easter on their back banishes despair and sadness. I never saw one myself, but daddy says he encountered them before. He says they are big mellow creatures, always gliding at the edge of the horizon, never too near the coast."

"You don't say," Snape replied dully, his eyes turning ahead. His contempt for Xenophilius was growing. He found out the more she talked about imaginary animals, the more it became harder to stomp the urge to call her precious daddy an idiot. It was clear that the reason why Ms. Lovegood had become the way she was- the word disturbed came to his mind-, was due to her father's harebrained influence and lunacy. For the first time, when Snape glanced at her awkward little radish earrings and her oblivious pale eyes, he did not look past them. He felt something akin to pity curl up in his chest.

But the feeling wasn't long lived; twisting his mouth, he quickly squashed it before it could bloom into anything else, like -God forbid- sympathy. He could not afford, nor want to be bosom buddies with the girl. And besides, she was obviously happy in her blissful delusions.

But, the emotion had still left a small impression behind. So when she asked him another question, his mannerisms were a bit softer.

"Can you swim sir?"

"Yes Ms Lovegood, I can." Snape irrevocably blinked away patches of red hair, and shivering lights of a moving creek.

Ms. Lovegood nodded, looking satisfied, "Make sure to be careful."

Snape shot her a strange look, not following on what she meant.

He opened the shiny wooden door of the restaurant with a heavy hand, and held it out for her courteously. The restaurant was small, but it appeared bigger by the strategically placed mirrors, and the interior designers had managed to accentuate the feeling of coziness with dim lights and relaxing pictures. Snape thought he might like the place if his circumstances were different.

They sat on the darkest corner of the place, the secludedness suiting Snape's tastes well. Ms Lovegood ordered fish for herself, and after his unbudging refusal to eat anything, she asked for an earl grey for him.

Snape eased back to his seat, sipping his tea. He listened to the hum of other patrons, his body relaxing gradually. The restaurant was too warm, and his limbs were too heavy. With gilded eyes watched the girl converse with her meal. He failed to see why she insisted on this behavior. Obviously, the fish wasn't going to answer back. Or at least, Snape damn-well hoped it wouldn't, for he knew with these two magic wielding maniacs anything was possible.

Discounting its obvious uselessness, it was possible that there was a spell to make animals talk. Snape resisted a yawn. Did animals even have coherent thoughts to translate?

Well- he could try to formulate the spell. He hadn't done that in a long time.

But before he could decide how to approach the linguistics of Latin, a light tweak in his ear made him hesitate. Snape blinked. Was it him or the hum was growing louder? He looked at the other customers with a sneer. Can't they keep it down a bit?

A grey static rift stretched over the window, and Snape's vision faltered. The corners of the furniture faded, and the pristine image of people desaturated like a greyscale photograph. Snape's breath hitched, and something shot out of the rift, so fast that Snape only caught it briefly as a single frame, that burned to his mind, before it disappeared off to somewhere.

Snape looked away and blinked, and he felt a chilling presence enter his mind. He instinctively raised his occlumency shields, slipping into the familiar cold.

The girl asked him if he was okay. He glared at her. He didn't need her to be observant now, not when he needed to concentrate.

"Professor-" she started. He stopped her with an impatient swipe of his hand.

It was here, in his mind. The thing that assaulted him last night was back. He did not how when it managed to slip in so quickly but he could feel it rummage around his head, trying to poke his memories. Worse, he could not pinpoint where it was exactly to get rid of it. One second it was around his recent thoughts, and then suddenly it gnawed on his childhood memories.

At first there was no pattern to its madness, bu then Snape realized that it lingered around his recent memories for too long, always coming back to poke them after zipping away to another place. Snape gritted his teeth, he needed to slow it down somehow. He imagined a great tank filled with thick dense liquid.

It did not slow the presence down, but it did manage to infuriate it.

"Where are you!"

With a painful spike through his mind, it screamed in fury, momentarily giving away its position. Snape lashed out without mercy. Like waves of the ocean, they pushed and pulled in a battle of wills. Until Snape broke away from the cycle to push it away with a burst of magic.

A thin crack formed on the window of the restaurant.

And just like that, it was gone in a second. His vision cleared and the hum faded away.

Snape stood there a moment, panting. He heard the white sounds of cutlery, and he saw the baffled whites of the girl's wide eyes. Snape looked down at his murky drink, and he allowed himself to feel something, something too like fear, and words spilled out his mouth before he could stop them, "The tea is good."

"Is it?" the girl said. When Snape nodded, she remarked, "I'm glad."

Silence filled the gap between the two, and flashes of gray and silver curled around his vision again. Snape tensed. Hoping to distract himself, he continued the small talk.

"Do you come here often?"

Ms. Lovegood blinked up at him, her head tilting to a side, "No, not often. It has been years."

But, Snape wasn't listening, he was watching in quiet horror the way Ms. Lovegood's placid features were demonizing, twisting around a single point like swirling water. He was loosing his grip on reality. Snape sunk his fingers into the table, and felt the wood splinter underneath his hold. It was back. This time it had changed its strategy; it was directly attacking his consciousness.

"Are you sure you are okay, sir?"

"Of course I am." Snape replied a little too quickly. He seemed distracted, distressed even, and he wasn't doing anything to conceal the fact which concerned Ms. Lovegood. His head was swaying like a chanting monk, almost as if he was praying it would pry off the intruder.

Indeed, Ms Lovegood could feel the intruder around him. Magic-Leeching Buzzer Bugs around his head alerted her of the bad intentions of another.

She discreetly pulled her wand out her pocket; and placed it on the table, covering most of it with her arm. With a look on his hunched figure, she cast a anti-muggle charm and Notice-me-not spells. When they were concealed from unwanted eyes, she stood up.

She gingerly touched his shoulder, and he tensed, his hand searching its way up to shook it away. So he was still around. With a steady hand she pushed him on his back. His graying eyes, once as dark as cinder, focused back on her for a single moment before it lost all semblance of humanity.

And Snape was pulled up from his body as darkness rushed in.

oo00oo

Snape found himself in a open field where white trees had let their leaves down. It was so strange here: the values were present so the depth of the place was intact; but everything else, including the sky, lacked any kind of pigmentation. Darker grays represented the grass, lighter grays danced in the water, but no color was present. It reminded Snape of emptiness.

The air was another peculiarity, a much more annoying one than the other. Just like he had imagined before, it was dense and thick like resin; it weighted down at him trying to make him bend over and resisted him when he wanted to move. He tried waving his hands. But it was with difficulty he moved his hands in small gradual movements.

What was once his was now working against him, he thought with frustration.

Snape heard the thing before he saw it. The air's unnatural circumstances caused the sounds to be amplified dramatically, not different how it would be if he were underwater, and it made him feel every single tremor with all his body. Grimacing, he turned as fast as his body allowed.

He raised his head to see it in its full form for the first time.

The creature was looming over a hill a few yards away. Layers and layers of smoke and pitch black tulle covered its shapeless ever-changing form, it was unpleasing and grotesque even to Snape's deprived eye. He glared up at the thing, mustering up his fractured mental defenses as much as he can. When the presence ripped its way through his mind, Snape had lost his ability to occlude. Not once in his life, not even when the Dark Lord had been cruel and angry had Snape been cornered this thoroughly.

With a jolt of cold prickling dread, he realized that this thing was not to be trifled with.

Aware of his unfavorable situation, Snape willed himself to be calm, and called upon the thing.

"Who are you?"

Snape felt himself regarded coldly, then slowly it answered, "I'm sure you've read about me in the Daily Prophet archives; many publications speculated about my actions for many months."

Snape only reaction was a twitch on his brow. The thing paused, tilting its head, "That Ms Lovegood, she is such a nice, helpful little girl, isn't she? It would be such a shame if you were to hurt her accidently."

Snape's eyes narrowed into tiny little slits, and he snapped, "Get to the point, creature. What do you want from me?"

"Want? There is nothing about you that I would want. There is nothing you can give me," it leered, leaning down, "But there was a small mistake made on my part, and now I remedied it."

Snape's mouth twisted with wrath, disliking the cryptic answers. But when he spoke his voice was even, "And what is that supposed to mean."

Ignoring his question, the thing glided towards him like a ghost riding the wind. Snape recoiled back, and he felt a small tick around his neck, preventing him from swallowing properly. His hand shot to his neck, and he craned it, between keeping his attention on the creature and his sudden clogged throat. And he was finally allowed to swallow, sweet air rushing to his lungs. Little he knew it was merely a moment of mercy, before he was violently hauled up into the air like a hanged man, his feet dangling only centimeters above the ground. He choked, his hands gripping empty air.

"That we found each other again, my puppet," it whispered, and static devoured Snape.

oo00oo

"Oh no," said Luna, as she watched Professor Snape's skin decay into a paper-thin membrane. She took a step back, frowning, her wand ready by her side.

Professor Snape, who looked more like a stitched up bone bag of his former self, straightened, his arms limb by his side, his head lolling. He let out a low moan through his clenched and bared teeth.

"Professor, if you can hear me blink twice," she said, dreading the answer. He moaned lightly in response.

Snape got up, swaying dangerously. Luna felt a stab of fear then, as goosebumps traveled down her back. With his uneven, cropped hair obstructing his face and his yellow crooked teeth, he looked downright evil. She didn't know what was wrong with him exactly, but he looked too much like the description of an Inferius on her fifth year textbook. And with a snap second decision she cast a protective bubble around the muggles and a containment spell around them.

Snape stopped, his nose twitching as if he could smell the magic, and the air seem to hold its breath between them, reminiscent of a silence before the storm.

And in a matter of seconds, there was a resounding crackle of bones and a blur of black and white surged towards her.

Snape had lunged at her, his hand flying out like a claw. Luna, her eyes widening in alarm, ducked underneath his arms at the last moment, yelping slightly. His hand broke into the wall with a monstrous crack, and bits of white clay rained over Luna's scrambling form. His shoulders twitching, Snape turned his head to glare at her, groaning threateningly.

He drew his bleeding hand out; the gushing blood ran down his forearm staining his white shirt and his pinky finger now twisted and broken, dangled listlessly. He reached for her again.

But, the attack she expected never came. Snape stilled, his attention suddenly focused on the muggles. Like sunlight through darkness, a bright laugh of a red haired muggle had resonated, and an emotion flickered on his face. He made a move to stumble towards them.

Luna reluctantly pointed her wand at him. Her spell sent a pair of gold ropes spiral forward, and her aim was true; Snape without an ounce of grace toppled down, bound and snarling like an animal.

Her shoulders relaxed when it was clear that he wasn't going anywhere.

She looked at his struggling form mournfully. It was a pity really. She had started like Professor Snape. He listened to her to her today, even though he did so rather grudgingly. And he always asked her to explain what she meant, something most people never did.

All of a sudden, there was a burst of volatile magic, and Snape was free. A halo of gold scattered out when he broke out of her hold.

"Stupefy!" Luna cried.

His body washed in angry red waves, Snape broke through the shield charm.

A/N:

PrunusPadus: Thanks so much for reviewing both chapters, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

Vani12: Thanks for your kind words!

Nigelcat1: Thanks for the review!

Risi: Thanks for the review and your kind words! In all reality, it didn't occur to me that Fred would also be raised. Although he isn't in the original template I have for this story, I think it would be fun to include him in too. I can imagine the strange interactions between him, Snape, and Luna. As for Dumbledore, I imagine the security around his tomb to be much stricter. So, no zombie Dumbledore for now unfortunately.