Fierce exultation swept through Raven like a tide, bringing with it new hope, new faith and a brilliant new future.
School was over. Raven had finished her last O.W.L yesterday, jumping through all the hoops required by the Ministry (in those few subjects where she had scraped together enough marks to pass). This was the end. Tomorrow, the train would arrive and she would be taken back to Diagon Alley, back home, and she would never have to come back to this miserable school again.
Although… maybe there were some things she would miss. The giant squid, for one. And the Forbidden Forest. And making easy money by selling her idiot peers potions so they could melt the few brain cells they had. She would really miss that. But it couldn't be helped.
She was walking through the dugneons, and Snape's classroom door was open. She walked past it without thinking, and then stopped. Something didn't feel right. She retraced her footsteps, and stared hard at Snape.
Class had been dismissed not too long ago, and there were pieces of equipment still scattered over the countertops. Snape was seated at his desk, marking papers. He looked up when she entered the room, watching her with cold, dark and strangely dead eyes.
Raven paused. The tip of her tongue stuck out briefly between her lips, a habit she had when she was nervous. Something felt wrong about the situation, but she couldn't be sure what it was. For one thing, the situation smelled all wrong. For another, Snape was resting his elbows on his desk. He never did that.
Few people would think to act on such slim evidence, but Raven thought it was important. She had an unusually good sense of smell, and now it was telling her that there was something… different about Snape.
He didn't seem to think that anything was wrong. He looked at her for a moment longer, and then looked back down at the papers.
"What is it?"
Raven began to look around the classroom. The drawers on the other side of the room, she knew, held knives for chopping up potions ingredients.
"I have a question, sir," she said, wandering in the direction of the drawers.
"Well? What is it?" he snapped, when she didn't say anything.
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Behind her back, she had pulled the drawer open and was feeling cautiously about for the biggest blade.
"I hardly see that it matters. And come over here! Stop wandering around the room like that…"
Raven obediently came over and stood in front of his desk. Her hand was closed firmly around the handle of a large carving knife.
"I was wondering, sir, who the hell are you?"
Snape looked up sharply, eyes blazing. Seeing the knife in her hand, he pulled out his wand, but Raven grabbed his wrist and slammed it down, hard, on the edge of the desk. The wand fell from his numbed fingers and went skittering across the floor.
"I asked you a question," she said. "Who are you?"
The man gurgled, hunched uncomfortably over the desk. Raven still held his hand pinned down, and she had brought the knife up to rest against his throat. She relaxed her grip a bit, and he gulped, panting heavily.
"Are you Raven Wolf-Smith?" he demanded, urgently.
Raven adjusted her grip so that the knife point was resting against his Adam's apple.
"What's it to you?"
"I'm here to talk to you, you impertinent girl! Put the knife down!"
"I don't think I will. What do you want."
The man growled. "What do you think I want? The Dark Lord wants the potions, and he wants them now." He paused, then added "And we would appreciate knowing the whereabouts of the first Death Eater who was sent to make contact with you…"
Raven kept her mouth shut, and shook her head. "Nuh uh."
"You are being childish and unreasonable!" he hissed. "Cooperate with us, or else-"
"Or else I pin you to the blackboard?" Raven suggested. Idly, she wondered how hard she would have to press to break the skin. The man squawked as she prodded at his throat with the knife tip.
"Stop that!" he hissed, his one free hand scrabbling at the desk. "When I tell the Dark Lord about this-"
"What? Tell him that an eighteen year-old Squib got the jump on you using a penknife? He'd laugh himself sick." Raven jerked down on his arm, forcing him lower over the desk. "Where's Snape?"
"Aackkk! Away!" the Death Eater choked out. "We sent him word of a meeting of the Dark Lord's supporters, at the Hog's Head."
"What, so he left without telling anybody?"
"Ever since Dumbledore died, he's practically cut himself off from the Order," the pseudo-Snape gasped. "He doesn't trust them. He left a note for McGongall, but we destroyed it…"
"Idiot," Raven muttered. She tightened her grip on the Death Eater. "And what's going to happen to him once he's at the Hog's Head?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all! His death does not figure into our plans! There is a meeting at the Hog's Head, but it's a set-up, a fake, we need him to carry the information to the Order! Now let me go!"
Raven scratched her jaw, considering what sort of damage he might be able to cause. Not much, she decided, so long as he didn't have his wand. She let him go, but fetched the offending article and pocketed it herself.
The Death Eater straightened up and smoothed his ruffled clothing, glaring at Raven. Then he gave a short laugh.
"Well. You're not lacking in nerve," he said. "The Dark Lord will be pleased to have you…"
"Hm." Raven looked idly at him down the shaft of the knife. "Will he really?"
"Of course. He rewards talent, unlike these miserable ingrates." His eyes flashed as he recognized her weakness and changed tactics, like a shark who scents blood in the water. "And that's what you want, isn't it? To be recognized for your achievements and your talents… recognition that they will never give you, because you lack the only abilities they admire."
"Work is its own reward," Raven said, but she didn't sound convinced. The Death Eater laughed.
"Admit it," he said, amused. "You want to rub their faces in the fact that you could've helped them to victory, but for the fact that they were too blind to see it. Isn't that how you feel?" He laughed softly. "Poor child," he said, almost affectionately. "Come…"
He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. Raven whipped around, dodging back out of the way and bringing the knife back up to point at his throat.
"Don't," she warned, "do that."
The Death Eater's face twitched, all fellow-feeling gone. He dropped his outstretched hand.
"Nervous, aren't you?" he said. "Jumpy as a feral dog. I should have known, considering your father…"
"Oh, shut up," Raven said, wearily. "I told the other Death Eater, I'm not dealing with any pawns. What I've got is powerful enough that I want to speak to Lord Voldemort himself before I hand it over."
"You-" the Death Eater began, and then he looked up with a sharp hiss. Raven turned around. Professor McGongall was standing in the doorway. She had her wand pointing at Raven.
The slow, prickling realization crept over Raven that she was still holding the knife, pointing at someone who to all intents and purposes, was Professor Severus Snape.
She quickly opened her hand. The knife clattered to the floor.
The Death Eater stepped forwards and took his wand from her pocket.
"Just in time, Headmistress," he murmured, slipping into character.
"What happened, Severus?" she demanded. She looked furious, but she had turned to Snape for answers. Clearly, she hadn't overheard much.
"I'm not sure… I stepped out of my office for a moment, and when I came back she was here, looking for something. Searching for information pertaining to the Order, I suppose. When she saw me, she grabbed the knife and attacked." The Death Eater was staring right at her, smiling, clearly enjoying himself. Raven snarled at him, hatred rushing up and filling the emotional void left behind by self-pity. So this is how he was going to let it play out…
"Professor McGongall, listen to me," she said, urgently. If he was going to throw her to the wolves, she might as well do the same to him. "That's not Snape."
"Professor Snape, Miss… Miss Smith," McGongall snapped. "Is she one of You-Know-Who's, then?"
"In all probability, yes," the pseudo-Snape was saying, while Raven yelled "Listen, why don't you? That's not Professor Snape. He's the Death Eater, not me!"
"Miss Smith, you will kindly refrain from making such wild claims. The case against you is black enough as it is," McGongall chided her.
"Go easy on the child, perhaps she was acting under the Imperius curse…"
"That's - not - Snape! That's - not - Snape!" Raven yelled. "Do I have to tattoo it on my forehead?"
"…safest thing may be to hold her at Azkaban," not-Snape was saying. Neither of the adults was listening to her. "Until we can be sure, we can't leave her here…"
"THAT'S NOT SNAPE!" Raven screamed. Cornered and in danger, she lashed out. The Death Eater yelled as she grabbed his wand arm and twisted, hard, before kicking him in the shins. He fell. McGongall aimed her wand.
"Incarcerous!"
Raven struggled fruitlessly against the ropes that held her. The Death Eater got to his feet, panting.
"Good work," he gasped, glaring at her.
"I'll call the Ministry, they can send an Aurorer to pick her up," McGongall was saying, but quick footsteps sounded in the corridor outside.
Severus Snape walked into the room and stopped dead in his tracks, staring. McGongall and the Death Eater stared back.
"Now will you believe me?" said Raven, in a more normal tone of voice.
Frantic, the Death Eater grabbed her and jammed the tip of his wand into her neck. "Let us go, or I'll kill her," he snapped.
Raven jerked out of the way and bit down on his wrist. He screamed, and his spell misfired, shattering a row of jars on the far wall.
"Stupefy," said Snape, and the Death Eater fell face down, unconscious.
"S-Severus?" stammered McGongall. "I thought -"
"I know what you thought," he snapped. "I told you I would be absent this afternoon -"
"You never-"
"The Death Eater intercepted the note you left behind," Raven explained. Now that McGongall's attention was no longer on her, she was able to wriggle out of the tangle of ropes. She stood rubbing at her arms. Those ropes had hurt. "The meeting was a set-up, by the way," she added.
"I guessed that," Snape snapped. "What was he doing here?"
"How should I know?" Raven demanded, glibly. "D'you think he told me all his plans? Things like that only happen in books and movies. It helps advance the plot."
Snape glared at her. Raven relaxed. It was a very strange thing to be thinking, but he smelled right.
McGongall was staring at the Death Eater. "I suppose," she managed, "we should call the Aurorers…"
"Very well," Snape said coldly, still looking at Raven. "I shall want a word with you later, Smith."
Guessing that this was meant as a dismissal, she slipped out of the room. McGongall was still staring in amazement at the Death Eater when she left.
