"Aurora, may I have a word?"
Professor Sinistra looked up from her plate, her expression startled. Severus wasn't surprised by her reaction – he couldn't recall ever speaking to her beyond the occasional brief greeting.
"Certainly," she said, recovering her wits somewhat. "What can I do for you, Severus?"
"I need to speak with the Slytherins. Can you arrange a meeting?"
"Of course. How about 4 PM this afternoon?"
To his relief, she didn't ask any questions, deferring to him as unofficial Head of House though he no longer held that position. He reported to the Common Room later that day, feeling strangely out of place as the students gathered around him.
"Thank you for coming," he said. "I'd like to ask you a few questions."
Until that moment, he hadn't realized how much the dynamics of his house had changed. The students were unnaturally subdued, an air of defeat hanging over the Common Room. Most had lost friends and family during the war, but he didn't get the impression they were holding any grudges. All he sensed was sadness and shame.
Was that such a bad thing? Perhaps not. He'd always hoped the Slytherins would redeem themselves, that they'd become something more than villains or scapegoats. Could that be possible now that the wars were over? None of them had ever been Death Eaters. Youth had saved them from recruitment, sparing them from having to fight in that last, terrible battle.
As for Voldemort… what reason would they have to admire him now? His lofty ambitions had ended in failure, his followers either dead or locked up in Azkaban.
"Very well," he said when his last round of questions yielded no results. "You may go."
Indeed, the future looked brighter for his Slytherins, though that didn't solve his immediate dilemma. He knew better than to ask Minerva if he could question her Gryffindors, nor would Flitwick appreciate the suggestion that a Ravenclaw might be involved. Both still assumed these were nothing more than pranks, a belief that persisted despite the incident with the Death Eater robes.
"Tasteless, to be sure," Minerva had said as she'd inspected the statue, "but hardly any cause for alarm."
Would she feel differently if she saw the note he'd received last night? Probably, though it wasn't as if he could show it to her. The mere suggestion that anything inappropriate had happened between him and Hermione…
No, he couldn't rely on his colleagues to assist him. He'd have to seek out other options.
"Have a seat, Miss Granger."
Hermione obeyed, waiting patiently as Snape finished grading the essay in front of him. Finally, he lifted his head, something sparking in his eyes as they met hers.
"I was wondering," he said quietly, "if you might do me a favor."
"What do you need?"
"The Invisibility Cloak… does Potter still have it?"
"I think so."
"Good. Can you write to him and see if he'll allow you to borrow it?"
"I can, but…" She frowned, noticing the tension in his jaw. "Did something else happen?"
"I received another note."
"What did it say?"
He hesitated, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strained, his eyes fixed on the wall behind her.
"If you don't mind, Miss Granger, I'd rather not repeat it."
She resisted the urge to question him further, realizing that she wasn't likely to get any answers. Instead, she mumbled something about lunch, relieved when he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
Dear Harry, she wrote a few minutes later. Can I borrow the Invisibility Cloak? I know how important it is to you, but strange things have been happening and we're trying to get to the bottom of it. I'll send it back as soon as I can, I promise.
She received his response at breakfast the next morning, smiling as she scanned the familiar handwriting.
No such thing as a peaceful year at Hogwarts, eh? I'm almost jealous.
Catching Snape's eye, she pointed at the package. He nodded, taking a sip of tea before he resumed his conversation with Flitwick.
There was another letter from Ron, wondering why she could find the time to write to Harry but not to him. She felt a flash of annoyance, though that was quickly followed by guilt. He did have a point – she'd been neglecting him for weeks.
I'm sorry, Ron, she wrote back. Things have been hectic around here. Be patient with me, yeah? I'll write again soon, and of course, I'll see you over winter break.
56 more days, he responded. Seems like forever.
I know, but it'll be worth it. We'll have two whole weeks to spend together.
She wrote him frequently after that, determined to put more effort into their relationship. True, they'd had problems over the summer, but that had been in the immediate aftermath of the war. Would things be better now that they'd both had time and space to heal? She hoped so.
So, she asked him a few days later. What do you want for Christmas?
You.
Ron, I can't believe you made that poor owl fly all the way up here just to deliver a one word response. Anyway, you already have me.
Yeah, but you know what I mean, don't you? I was hoping… He'd scribbled out several lines before he continued. We don't have to if you don't want to, but you asked what I wanted for Christmas. Can't think of anything I want more than that.
He wanted to shag. Of course he did. She'd kept him waiting for months, after all, a reluctance she still didn't understand. Would she feel differently the next time she saw him? She couldn't be sure, but it seemed best to leave that door open.
Why don't we wait and see what happens?
Sounds good, he wrote back. Can't wait to see you, 'Mione.
In many ways, Severus had reconciled himself with the past, though he'd never gotten over his hatred for Halloween. He left before the feast began, unable to shake a feeling of unease as he patrolled the halls.
Was he being paranoid? Maybe. The school was utterly quiet, so peaceful that he began to relax. He checked the upper floors one last time, deciding he might as well head back to the dungeons and grade a few essays. Perhaps he'd even have time to do some reading if…
"Bloody hell!"
The cry came from several floors below, high-pitched and filled with terror. He raced down multiple flights of stairs, skidding to a stop as he spotted a crowd gathered outside the Great Hall.
"Prefects!" Minerva said briskly. "Escort everyone to your common rooms!"
The hallway began to clear, drawing Severus's attention to the opposite wall. His eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as he spotted the graffiti. DEATH TO MUDBLOODS, one message screamed, while another proclaimed that ALL TRAITORS MUST DIE. Beneath them was a perfect replica of the Dark Mark, blood dripping down the wall to pool near his feet.
"Are all the students accounted for?" he said, his voice low.
Minerva nodded. "We did a headcount right before you arrived."
"Good."
Severus saw panic in her eyes, mirrored in the expressions of the other professors. Finally, they were taking this threat seriously, their wands drawn as they split up to scour the halls. He waited until they were gone, taking a closer look at the graffiti before he glanced over his shoulder.
"Miss Granger? You can come out now."
He watched her remove the cloak, smirking as he noticed her reddened cheeks.
"I was just…"
"Up to your old tricks, I see."
She snorted. "You were the one who told me to send for the damn thing."
"Touche."
He motioned for her to follow him downstairs, reluctant to let her out of his sight. Unfortunately, a thorough search of the dungeons yielded nothing, leaving him no choice but to escort her to her room.
"Stay here," he said. "Don't come out until morning. Whoever is doing this…"
"I know."
Not satisfied with the riddle's protection, he added an extra layer of security to her door. Finally, he returned to the first floor, resisting the urge to perform another search.
"Ah, Severus," Minerva said as she watched him approach. "Did you find anything?"
He shook his head. "You?"
"The Fat Friar claims to have seen a dark figure duck around the corner. He tried to follow, but whoever it was disappeared. We couldn't find any trace of them."
"I see," he said, taking a closer look at the graffiti. The blood had dried, rust colored flakes clinging to his finger as he touched the Dark Mark. "What would you have us do?"
"There's nothing we can do, at least for the moment. Still, it's clear that these are more than just harmless pranks."
"Obviously."
"No need to be sarcastic, Severus."
He didn't respond, shaking his head as he stared at the wall. Whoever was responsible for these incidents was no novice. They were adept at concealing their identity, not to mention gaining access to restricted areas. Granted, they hadn't harmed anyone yet, but that didn't mean they wouldn't.
"Keep an eye out," Minerva said. "Report any suspicious behavior and make sure curfew is strictly enforced. I don't know who's behind this or what they're planning, but we certainly don't want students wandering the halls late at night."
"Agreed."
Hermione settled herself at her desk, finishing her Charms essay before she responded to a letter from Ron. In both cases, she was grateful for the distraction, still shaken by what had happened downstairs. To think that there might be a Death Eater lurking around the castle…
No. That was impossible. Voldemort had been defeated, all of his followers imprisoned or killed. Whoever was doing this was obviously trying to frighten her, but that didn't mean…
"Come on, Crookshanks," she said, stifling a yawn as she got to her feet. "Let's try to get some…"
She gasped, spotting the message on the opposite wall. The handwriting was unmistakably familiar, though these words were written in blood instead of ink.
I know all your secrets, Mudblood. I will use them to destroy you.