Dragons of Twilight
Chapter 02: At the Department of Mysteries
'Something is most definitely wrong.'
Severus Snape sighs in annoyance and pinches the bridge of his nose. The feeling of impending doom has built steadily during the last few days and is now hanging over him like a storm cloud. He wonders for a moment if it might have something to do with Potter again. Possible, but unlikely, for he knows that Albus' Golden Boy was brought to the Headquarters at the beginning of the week and is thus under constant supervision.
'As if that had ever prevented him from stumbling, no, rushing into the nearest dangerous situation on his way...'
Severus snorts. Whatever others may think, he is absolutely certain that behind that modest-hero-facade the boy presents to the world he is just as bad as his father, always craving for attention and praise, always seeking to stand in the spotlight, arrogant and sure of himself. Granted, the events in the Department of Mysteries seem to have gotten through that thick skull of his and finally dimmed his recklessness somewhat over his sixth year, but that the boy will get into trouble before soon is as sure for the Head of Slytherin as the fact that the sun will rise in the morning.
'I just hope that Albus won't expect me to save Potter's sorry little hide this time. I have already enough to keep me occupied, thank you very much!'
The Dark Lord had changed his tactics after the disaster at the Ministry of Magic. He lay low and planned in his secret hiding-hole, trying to make Dumbledore look like a hysterical, old senile and Fudge like a fool for finally confirming the rumors of Voldemort's return. And the worst is that now, with no word whatsoever of any Death Eater attacks or other signs of the Dark Lord for over one year, people are starting to believe him.
He sighs again and flops gracefully down onto his favorite armchair. Voldemort has started to recruit again, subtly, discreetly, ambitious young witches and wizards in positions that might help him greatly later. The mood is tense in the Order, and Tonks and Shacklebolt are wondering how much longer they will be able to trust their fellow Aurors. Severus for his part thinks that they have already stopped doing that when they started to question their colleagues' loyalty. But he kept his opinion to himself. He has enough to worry about, as the Dark Lord still hasn't forgiven him for his absence on that first fateful meeting on the graveyard. Since the capture of Lucius and the others, the old Snake has kept them strictly on a need-to-know-basis, lest they reveal parts of his plan under the influence of Veritaserum, and he has aggravated the punishments for failing him, becoming rather ...creative due to his amount of free time.
The Potions Master shudders inwardly. The last year has been hell. Every Death Eater tried to get back into the Dark Lord's good graces, especially Bellatrix Lestrange, and that woman surpasses even Voldemort himself in her cold blood, cruelty and unscrupulousness. The battle for power in the Death Eaters' ranks was a harsh one, and is still going on. Severus wonders how much longer he will last. A few of the meetings were a near miss for him and it has been getting worse lately.
'Maybe I'm missing Potter. It's kind of relaxing to make the little jerk fight for control over his temper.'
He chuckles maliciously.
'Maybe I'll go and visit the Headquarters tomorrow, release a bit of tension and such...'
The beginning sneer on his face turns into a grimace, when a sharp jolt of pain in his arm tells him that his quiet Friday evening with the ancient potions tome he found yesterday in Diagon Alley and a glass of old Firewhiskey has just been canceled.
Growling, he rises and tosses a pinch of silver powder into the fire, the sign for Albus that he is gone, before he puts his shrunken attire into an inner pocket of his robe and leaves the dungeons to head to the edge of the Anti-Apparating Wards.
'Here I go,' he thinks sourly. 'Hopefully I'll come back once again this time.'
o^o^o^o^o^o^o^o
Masked and clad into his black Death Eater robes, Severus Snape stumbles and steadies himself against a wall.
'Merlin, I hate traveling by Portkey,' he thinks, disgusted by the feeling of being sucked into a void and spit out again. "I wonder where it is that we can't apparate to.'
His onyx eyes widen as he recognizes his surroundings.
'The Ministry of Magic! What the hell...?!'
Swallowing the feeling of dread that has risen in his throat, he slowly follows the corridor the Portkey has taken him to, wand at the ready.
Something is wrong here, very wrong. He should have known already when the Dark Mark took him to a clearing where a Death Eater novice handed him the small hourglass that brought him here. Something is going on and he doesn't know whether he really wants to find out what it might be.
Analyzing his position, Severus realizes he is in the Department of Mysteries, on his way to the Chamber of Death. His heartbeat quickens, and a thin layer of sweat begins to spread on his forehead. As he tries to calm himself, he notices that the sweating is not caused by anxiousness, but heat.
'Damn, why is it so hot here?'
The nearer he gets to the entrance of the chamber, the warmer and stuffier the air becomes. Preparing himself for the worst, he takes a deep breath and steps into the room.
Only to stop paralyzed by shock upon the sight that greets him.
The Chamber is a disaster.
Everything is burned and blackened.
Some stones in the walls are still glowing faintly with heat.
The air is hot and sears through his lungs, and the sickening smell of burnt flesh clings to it.
Three charred bodies lie on the floor, the half-molten axe next to one of them implying that it is Walden Macnair, since no other Death Eater would carry such a weapon with him. The other two offer no clue to their identity.
Smoke is rising faintly from piles of ashes, embers are still glowing.
Severus is horrified by the sheer amount of devastation that took place in the room.
Whatever has happened here must have involved one hell of a fire. But what kind of fire can be such deadly and strikes so quickly that a Death Eater like Macnair was unable to protect himself with a spell or flee in time?
Stepping farther into the room, the dark-haired Slytherin discovers a large spot that has been spared from the fire and is unmarred. Constantly alert, though a quick glance around told him that he seems to be the only living person present, he moves towards it and examines it carefully. It is approximately five or six feet in diameter, an irregularly formed circle, whose floor is stained with blood. A small trail of it leaves the spot at one side and looking up, he sees the second thing that remained untouched by the flames: the Archway with the Veil. The trail of blood leads straight into its direction and Severus follows it cautiously, clutching his wand tighter as he reflects briefly what kind of creature could leave such strange tracks.
His question is answered by a faint movement in front of the Veil, and snarling he raises his wand and leaps forward, poised to strike.
A pitiful whimper comes from his opponent, and a small, trembling figure tries to cringe away from his towering form.
Still wary, the Potions Master draws nearer and looks down at the creature.
Cowering about one yard away from the Archway is a small, pale rusty-red and golden dragon, trying desperately to hide behind its large wings.
It is covered with soot, which had hidden it from view before, and smeared with blood.
Its own blood, the Slytherin realizes as he bends down and the dragon struggles wearily to get away from him, but it is too weak.
Reaching out to the shaking creature, he lays his hand on the fragile neck in case it tries and turns around to breath its fire at him, but the dragon is so weakened that it can't move on its own. It whimpers again when the wizard's hand touches it, and its faint pulse races under his fingers. The smooth scales are strangely cold in the heat of the room, as if life was slowly leaking out of the small body.
'That's a bad sign.'
He has no idea how he knows that since he has never been particularly interested in dragons, aside of potions ingredients, that is.
But his instincts tell him that this little dragon is something special and might well be the key to what happened today, and that it will die if he doesn't help it.
Sighing, he crouches down beside it, and takes a gentle hold of the copper-coloured wings with the golden undersides. The dragon moans in pain, and Severus points his wand at the broken left upper wing-bone and mends it, before he examines the rest of the wounded creature. It doesn't look good. The broken limbs and ribs he can mend provisionally, but the wounds on its abdomen indicate internal bleedings and need to be taken care of by a professional.
Pondering his alternatives briefly, he decides on the only real one: To take the dragon to Hogwarts.
'Hagrid can look after it. He will without doubt be overjoyed to do so.'
Determined, he takes a small vial out of one of his many pockets, pries the slender jaws apart gently and softly massages the pale golden throat to make the little dragon swallow. A few moments later, the Pain-Numbing Potion has taken effect and he dares to lift his small patient into his arms, but with its pain dulled, the dragon panics at being picked up and struggles to escape.
Caught off balance, Severus has no choice but to let the creature down as gently as he manages, and curses colourfully as it scrambles away to hide behind the Archway.
Before he can follow it, however, the dragon makes a terrified sound and backs away from the backside of the Archway as fast as it can, moaning in distress, until it knocks into the legs of the Potions Master. With a pitiful whine, it puts its front claws on his lower leg, and hides under his robes like a child.
Freeing his leg gently, the Slytherin rises his wand again and peers around the Archway.
Another Death Eater is lying there, severely burned, but not as bad as the others due to the shelter the Archway provided.
All of a sudden, the man breaks into a coughing fit, and makes Severus realize that he is still alive.
In a swift motion the dark-haired wizard is at his side and knees down to help him.
The rest of his Numbing Potion and a vial of a strong healing potion that he didn't dare give to the dragon because it is explicitly for humans go down the poor git's throat and he clears up enough to look at the Slytherin with glassy eyes.
"Snape..." he croaks. "Thank Merlin.... "
"Rookwood," Severus says urgently, "what the hell happened here?"
The burnt man's lips twitch at his words.
"Hell... All hell ...broke loose," he mutters. "Potter and ...his friends were ...here today."
His breathing becomes shallower, and the Potions Master knows he will slip back into delirium soon.
"Try to hang on, Rookwood and tell me. I need to know what ...went wrong."
The other man coughs weakly.
"The Dark Lord... Ambush... Fight... Got them... But then.... out of nowhere... the dragon... the fire..."
Rookwood draws a deep, rattling breath and smiles.
"But... we got him ...in the end, ...Snape. There is no way ...Potter could have survived ...this."
And with the triumphant smile still on his face, the Death Eater's eyes drift shut and he loses consciousness again.
Severus rises and remains motionless for a moment, considering what he should do about Rookwood when the faint sound of distant footsteps leaks into the room.
Knowing that the other man will be tended to in a short while, he turns back to gather the dragon up, only to find it cowering behind him. His sudden movement startles the creature, and it backs away in fear. Sighing once more, the black-clad wizard knees down again, and drops his voice to the seductive, silken tones he saves for special purposes. The little dragon stops its frantic movements, half-closes its eyes and listens in rapt attention. Severus moves towards it, and soothed by the dark voice, the small golden and rust-coloured creature meets him halfway and allows him to cradle it in his arms. Though it is about the size of a large dog, it is strangely light-weight and he suspects that it is malnourished as well.
When the Potions Master fishes for the Emergency Portkey in his pocket with his left while steadying his burden with his right, the little dragon lifts its head shyly and for the first time, he can look directly into its eyes.
Its emerald eyes.
'No, that's impossible...'
His gaze flickers to the red and golden forehead, and sure enough a discreet zig-zagging line is embedded into the scales there.
Severus groans, though of relief or exasperation he couldn't tell.
"Potter! I should have known it's you again," is all he gets out before his searching fingers touch the Portkey and the world vanishes into a whirl of colours.
O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O
A/N:
Thanks for the reviews!!!
I never expected the first chapter to get such a positive feedback!
You see me flattered... *smiles happily*
A nicely polished Gold Star goes to Fallen Dragon for the very first review. *hands over shiny star*
Also, an extra flashy Shooting Star goes to Cassa-Andra for her kind offer of betaing this story. *sends sparkling shooting star on its way*
Maybe I'll come back to it later, but for now a friend at university has volunteered to proofread my chapters.
Chapter one and two are being reworked at the moment, I'll replace the current versions as soon as I get them back.
Any questions or comments to the story so far?
Feel free to review! *hint*
Next chapter: Arrival in Hogwarts...
Carpe Diem!
Greetings,
Scheckie