Disclaimer: all bow to j.k. rowling, queen of all you survey. unless that which is surveyed doesn't seem familiar. if something that you survey strikes a wary cord of unfamiliarity, then i am the reigning monarch. let it be duly noted that if you bow to me, you will go down in the book o' cool. number of residents within said book o' cool presently stand at: three. (not very impressive, but i'm a new matriarch, so cut me some slack.) hmm...this isn't turning out to be much of a disclaimer, is it? oh well. let's hear it for the cool cats who reviewed! huzzah! we now return to the regularly scheduled chapter...

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Nine: Chance Meetings

***

Later in the week, after Dove had fixed Raven's nicks and cuts (gradually, as it might otherwise have garnered a bit of unwanted attention), and had fully recovered from her own untreated scratches, the two received a short note from Professor McGonagall requesting a meeting. Dove and Raven both admired Professor McGonagall greatly, as she was one of the leading experts in the magical field of Transfiguration. And as Transfiguration was such a favorite with the girls, it was only right that the Gryffindor Head of House also be a favorite.

The meeting was put off until the middle of the week due to a few late essays that the professor had to grade. But early Wednesday evening, the girls found their way to the Transfiguration corridor and headed into the quiet classroom. Stepping inside, they noted the rich solitude that usually failed to permeate the unruly Fifth Year classes. McGonagall was sitting at her desk at the farther end of the classroom, apparently running over a scrap of parchment or two. The girls approached cautiously, not wishing to disturb her. They made their way to the front of the class and perched themselves on the student desk closest to the professor.

So, what do you think we should tell her? Surely, she doesn't know everything. What if she asks too many questions? Dove wondered to Raven.

If she asks too many questions, we'll dodge like we always do. But we'll tell her as much of the truth as we can. No reason to tangle ourselves any further right now, especially not with her.

Do you think she knows that we know why she asked to meet us?

Hmm...I'm not sure. Raven got a curious light in her eye, and Dove smiled involuntarily. Her sister was up to something. Something small perhaps, as it was McGonagall, but still...

Professor McGonagall set down the parchment and looked up. She smiled graciously and removed her glasses to look over the two girls. Ruffling through a few papers, it was clear that she was trying to conceal her enthusiasm for the subject that she was about to broach. But as she opened her mouth to speak, Raven jumped in.

"So, shall we show you what we can do?" Her eyes glittered with triumph at the utter look of surprise that conjured itself onto McGonagall's face.

"But- How did you...how did..." McGonagall took a deep breath and steadied herself, then continued. "How did you know that was why I wanted to speak to you?"

Raven grinned at Dove. "Well, we had our suspicions. You are the Transfiguration professor, after all. Surely, you must have some interest in Animergence."

Once again, Professor McGonagall's eyes shot up with wonder. But this time, she refrained from her stuttering questions. "Yes, quite right." She looked both girls up and down, taking in every aspect of them. She fixed her eyes in concentrated effort and forced herself to speak. "May I, then? May I see you do it?"

Raven nodded her head slightly in agreement. Dove noticed the unspoken question also directed at her and proclaimed quickly, "Well, of course you can. We'll show you and then you can ask us whatever you'd like. I'll show you the back and Raven can show you the front."

Raven spoke up unexpectedly then. "Actually, perhaps I should show her the back. The black stands out better, and she'll be able to see it much easier." Dove nodded in agreement and both girls reached to remove their robes. Beneath their robes, the girls wore the usual school uniform minus one thing. Instead of the required blouse and tie, they wore regular Muggle tank tops. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows in wonder, and Raven answered before she spoke. "They're tank tops. Muggle thing. Quite scandalous, really, but they're very good for the wings. Easy access, you understand. Just this once."

McGonagall nodded in understanding, and the girls threw their robes over the table behind them. They stood up casually and Raven turned her back to the curious teacher. Dove asked if she was ready and waited for the quick nod. Then, as McGonagall looked on in unmasked fascination, they began the change. It was spectacular to watch, and the professor could hardly contain the gasps that sought to escape her. She could see the intense concentration on Dove's face, her clenched hands and flexed arms. Muscles she'd never considered before were suddenly very distinct. Even Dove's chest seemed to expand slightly with each strong breath.

Her gaze shifted over to Raven to study the rest of the remarkable transformation. She could now see, thanks to the peculiar Muggle top that the girl wore, the very skin between her shoulders moving about with the shifts taking place beneath. She could see the muscles contracting and relaxing as they shifted and contorted, fixing themselves to bones that seemed to come out of nowhere. As the bones and muscles displaced and replaced each other, the shoulder blades spread further from the spine to allow two thick bones begin to extend from her back. They grew and stretched and spawned more, albeit much smaller, bones which curved off and spouted feathers. The feathers fluffed and settled a few times in rapid succession, organizing themselves over the new structure.

In less than a minute, both girls were sporting rather miraculous wing formations. Raven turned expectantly to the woman who trembled in silent appreciation. Spreading her wings to allow sitting room, she planted herself unceremoniously on the desk once more and smiled. After her sister was quietly seated next to her, she spoke. "So? What'd you think? Any questions?" For nearly two hours, the three ladies occupied the room, talking incessantly, questioning and answering, and revealing only that which could be revealed.

Dove and Raven were surprised only once during the length of the conversation, when McGonagall said something fleeting about Snape mentioning a poem years before. The two girls were immediately interested, but chose not to pursue the subject as they didn't wish for any unwanted suspicions to arise. They would just have to speak to Snape again and ask him about it. Perhaps he could finish the cryptic puzzle for them.

Afterwards, a contented Transfiguration professor excused them to their dormitory, where the two slept happily until morning.

***

The next day, after Potions, as Raven ran off to confront Fred Weasley and Chris Tofer about a rather ridiculous prank, Dove stayed behind. She waited patiently as Professor Snape demolished the Longbottom boy and sent him away in a hurry with a heavy growl. She noted the tiny hint of surprise in Snape's eyes as he noticed her lingering by the door. It was hardly noticeable, but she caught it and filed it carefully away for later reference. He straightened himself and walked dutifully back to his desk before officially recognizing her.

"Yes, Miss Thomas?" He picked at a stack of tests on his desk as he spoke, running through them quickly, scanning for any obvious mistakes.

Dove walked up to his desk, pausing momentarily before speaking. "I was wondering, sir, if you knew anything about the poem?" She braced herself for whatever reaction may come, as she was still unsure of precisely how much Dumbledore had told her Head of House. Snape's eyes glittered momentarily before cooling into a steely liquid color.

"Yes, I know about the poem." He sat in the chair behind his desk and laid his hands before him, folding the fingers into each other and preparing for her questions. For her own part, Dove retained the impressively vacant look she'd begun with, silencing the regret at his knowledge with the heartfelt optimism that he may be able to help them.

"Well, we'd like to know how it ends." At the slightly questioning look on her professor's face, she elaborated. "The last line of the poem is missing. We don't know how it ends."

Snape nodded silently, contemplating his answer. He didn't wish to frighten the girls with their future, but neither did he escape the consideration that their ignorance on the subject might prove harmful somehow. With a heavy sigh, he began to recite the poem.

"The Winged Serpents shall return/Their feathers bent and scarred/Shall carry them to seek and learn/And soften hearts long hard" He looked quickly over at Dove to ensure that she was not startled by what she was hearing. At the unchanged look on her face, he forced himself to continue. "Beware the Two of Light and Dark/They will not mercy show/But find the wound and heal the mark/For either Friend or Foe" He paused once more. The last verse seemed the hardest, as it was the verse which proclaimed their ultimate loss. But he could not, in good conscience, guard them from the truth of their fates. "The one shall feel the nightly urge/The other feel the sun/But when the moon and star converge/The Two shall lose the One" Snape flinched inwardly at the morbid conclusion, and searched the girl's face for any sign of horror or sadness. But she remained entirely impassive, as if she hadn't heard him speak at all.

Dove listened intently as he spoke, barely able to hide the nervous shakes that threatened to consume her as he began the last verse. When he spoke, she froze. The Two shall lose the One. The phrase threw itself awkwardly around inside her head. She was too stunned to react. She stood, unmoving, unflinching, unthinking, until she heard her name being called. She snapped back, suddenly aware that Snape's eyes hadn't left her own. But he hadn't spoken, it hadn't been his voice. She turned to see Raven bouncing about in the doorway.

"Hey, come on. I just got Fred and Chris back with a bit of help from George, he wasn't too happy about being left out of the last prank, and I want to get back to the common room before they have a chance to recover. Come on!" Her excited babbling hesitated at the empty look her sister held. "Dove? Hey, heart, what is it?" She looked, without comprehension, between Dove and Snape before piecing it together. She let out a little breath and fixed her posture. "Oh. Right," she said. Thinking quickly, she managed to erase any possible emotions that may have occupied her face before she walked over to Dove. Grabbing hold of her sister's arm, she softly nudged her toward the door. "Come on, before the boys find us."

Dove nodded solemnly and left the classroom with only a slight nod to Snape. As she exited, Raven turned back to the Professor. "Don't worry, 'Fess. I'll have her straightened out before dinner. It's just been a crazy week is all. She'll be back to her annoying self before you can say 'detention'." She forced a smile onto her face and waved before walking out the door. As soon as she was out of sight, she dropped the fake smile and ran after her sister. They had a few things to discuss.

***

It wasn't until classes were out of the way for the day that Raven had a chance to scour Dove for answers. Back in their dorm, Dove had just finished explaining the cause of her strange reaction to Raven. She was sitting on her bed, quietly trying to sort things out in her mind. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. What did the poem mean? They'll lose the One, but who's the One? Surely it wasn't either of them, was it? Did it mean that one of them would...die? She shivered involuntarily and tried to force her thoughts back into some logical semblance.

Raven, for her part, was stalking back and forth across the room. Her face was tight with emotion, her jaw clenched in anger. Her fists were extending into wide arrays of fingers and melting back into fists in rapid succession. She was not happy. As she heaved herself closer to the fireplace, she jerked a leg out and kicked at the closest chair, splintering the back. She began to mumble under her breath loudly, nonsense streaming from her lips. Dove looked on at her sister in worry. If Raven got too wrapped up in her fury...

Suddenly, there was a loud noise from the common room. Both girls looked up, confusion and wonder stealing across their faces momentarily. Raven murmured something, and the grave rage returned to her face with full force. She threw herself out the door. Dove jumped up, startled at the emotional waves that Raven was going through, and raced after her.

In the common room, a few dozen Slytherin students were gathered around the fireplace. In the center of the crowd stood two figures, a small girl in her first year...and Goyle. Dove found it strange that Goyle appeared to be on his own. She could see neither Crabbe or Malfoy egging on their compatriot. She surveyed the scene, piecing together what might have happened. Judging from the tears streaming down the girl's face, and the ragged lump of cloth that was charring in the fireplace, it seemed that Goyle had stolen the girl's stuffed animal and thrown it in. To what end, Dove could not be sure, but she was sure that things were about to get incredibly awkward. Raven was pushing through the crowd straight towards Goyle.

She shoved the last few unhappy Slyths out of her way and stood in front of the hulking Third Year. Narrowing her eyes and affecting an intimidating growl, she demanded to know what had happened. Malfoy practically materialized from behind Goyle, along with the lunkhead Crabbe.

"Stupid girl was defending Potter. Said he 'seemed nice'." Malfoy affected an irritating little girl impression as he spoke. "She said he was 'a lot nicer than Crabbe and Goyle, and cuter too'." He sneered at the trembling girl. "What can I say? She was right."

The girl began her gentle sobs anew as she looked in at the soft embers surrounding her lost possession. Raven watched her, unmoved, before turning back to Malfoy.

"And who did that?" She pointed to the fireplace.

Malfoy prodded Goyle. "Goyle. He didn't appreciate the insinuations against his character."

Raven nodded. "Ah. Makes sense." She looked back at the struggling girl crouched behind her, then back at Malfoy. Shrugging her shoulders, she gave a look of "oh-well-what're-you-gonna-do" before pulling back her (extremely muscular) right arm and slamming it forward into Goyle's face. Goyle staggered back under the force of the punch before collapsing to the ground, cradling his bleeding nose. Malfoy and Crabbe looked up at Raven in terror and backed away, neither bending to assist their wounded friend. All of the other students gave a collective gasp and took a step back from the dark-haired girl.

Raven stood silent, an empty look on her face again. She stood as if nothing had happened at all. If one had walked in just then, they might have assumed she was just asking someone for help with her homework. From the back of the crowd, a muffled "Dammit, Raven." could just be heard as Dove struggled to bust through the crowd to her slightly less aggravated sister. Finally, she broke through and walked up to Raven. "Great. Nice job. Why couldn't you just hex him? But oooooooohhhh, no. You had to punch the stupid bastard. You are going to be in so much trouble."

Raven glared back at her sister. "He was being an arsehole. He deserved it." She looked up at everyone standing around her, daring them to disagree. Fortunately, most of the Slyths agreed with her anyway, without the threat she silently held over them. As she looked around her, Goyle began to stagger to his feet, ignorant fury painted across his features. Raven turned back to him just as he prepared to lunge forward at her. Raven kept still, readying herself to grab at his hands and throw him off balance, hopefully giving herself enough time to hit him again. She grabbed his forearms as he came at her, spinning him to the side. But as she reached back to gain momentum for the hit, she felt a strong hand grip her arm.

Surprised at the resistance she now encountered, she looked back. Her eyes hit upon a mass of black cloth. Raising her eyes to the source of the darkness, she found...Snape. The violent temper immediately drained out of her, but she kept her face. She made no move to lower her arm or contract the muscles he gripped so easily. She just stared into his bottomless eyes, searching for an explanation for the interruption.

"Miss Thomas. I believe you have some explaining to do," he snarled. His face gave nothing away, but his grip remained as strong as ever. Raven steadied herself beneath his gaze before speaking, unwilling that her voice might break under some fierce attention.

"I apologise, sir. I was angry. Goyle was unfortunate enough to have done something incredibly stupid while under threat of my presence just as my temper had become rather..." She struggled to find just the right word. "Rather, erm...volatile. I released my aggression with as much speed and satisfaction as I could find at hand. A sort of violently instant gratification, which, I am sorry to say, I used to delight in quite frequently when I was younger. I will try to overcome such unseemly urges in the future. It won't happen again." She looked back at Goyle's wary form, and gave a menacing stare. "I hope." Goyle shrank beneath her eyes, and she turned back to Snape.

He seemed to be judging her, the way his eyes bore into her own. She had no desire to be observed so openly without explanation, so she raised her eyebrows in hope of a response. He seemed a bit taken aback that she would challenge him for an answer, but recovered himself immediately.

"Very well." He threw his own glare at Goyle and spoke in a dangerously low tone. "Mr. Goyle, you will learn to weigh the outcomes of your actions, as well as your opponents, before proceeding with such disdain for intelligent forethought. Infirmary. Now." He returned his gaze to Raven, and lowered his voice one more notch, to the point that she nearly collapsed from the intensity of it. "And you, Miss Thomas...Fifteen points to Slytherin for your remarkably swift response. Let us hope that you are as quick mentally as you appear to be physically." He stared a moment longer, unblinking, then seemed to realize he was still gripping her arm. He released her immediately, and with a satisfying flurry of his robes, left the common room.

The rest of the students milled about in dazed conversation before heading to the Great Hall. Dove and Raven remained in front of the fireplace a bit longer, trying to sort through things. Raven found herself describing Professor Snape's touch to her sister in eager detail, unable to determine how he had exacted such a chilling response from her body. Dove nodded, in obvious agreement. After a few quiet moments, they made a hurried effort to pull themselves together and hurried off to eat.

***

Severus immediately went to his office. From his office, he walked straight to the farthest wall and muttered a few words. Tapping his finger on the wall in a strange rhythm, it turned to gray mist before him and he walked through into his private rooms. The wall solidified once more as he threw himself into a heavy chair in front of the fireplace, breathing heavily. What the hell was that? he thought to himself, angrily. I must be going out of my mind.

He thought back over the events of the last few minutes. He recalled hearing a slight commotion as he'd passed the hidden entrance to the common room and had entered on suspicion alone. Nobody bothered to turn at the sound of his appearance. When he'd noticed the scene before him, he had taken the time to soak everything in before making a move. He'd heard the last of Malfoy's remarks, and had observed the casual complacency that settled onto Raven's face as she seemed to make a satisfying decision. He'd been just as startled as the rest of them, however, when she'd slugged the Goyle boy.

His first thought had been to stop the scuffle immediately. But another, stronger, part of him was dreadfully impressed at her reaction, and wanted to know where it would go. He'd witnessed the calm look on her face as everyone had stumbled back in alarm, and was nearly tempted to smile at her bold actions. But he's restrained himself carefully, and had stepped forward when he realized that she could easily pound the boy into pulp, and might happily have done so without his intervention. He'd placed his hand on her bicep to control her, but was struck by the strength that presented itself. No doubt a result of such rigorous Quidditch training, and perhaps even flying, he worried that she might manage to pull out of his grip and hit the boy anyway. So he had immediately increased his own strength to match hers.

He'd said his piece and growled as he found necessary. But he was surprised at a couple of things. First, at the tone he'd somehow managed to take on when speaking to the girl. It was a tone he rarely used, and appeared to have some small effect on her. It was probably just my imagination, he thought wryly. But he could not blame the goosebumps, which had erupted on her arm as he spoke, on his imagination alone. The other unexpected bit of insight had hit him just as he had finished speaking. She had not drawn away when she'd realized who was holding onto her. Neither had she shrunk beneath his heavy gaze. She had not tried to back down, or even to one-up him, only matched him look for look. He found himself admiring the girl, and berated himself for such useless emotion.

No wonder I had to get out of there so quickly. Another moment and I may have gone completely mad. He grinned at his own self-deprecating humor, and cleared his head. He stood up easily and headed towards his office, then to the Great Hall. I suddenly get the feeling that this is going to be a long year.

***

Classes ran smoothly, and Quidditch practice put the girls in an easier mood. They managed to put the poem out of their minds and focus on other things. They made a distinct effort to hang around Drew and Alex as much as possible, eager to keep their minds aimed at the frivolous and fleeting. Before long, the first Hogsmeade weekend was upon them. The six friends made plans to head down to the little town together the Friday before. Saturday morning, everyone was up and dressed and ready to go by noon. The first stop was Honeyduke's for a lunch of magical sweets.

After a bit of light roaming, the group finally decided to split up, allowing their different personalities to lead them on. Chris found his way over to Zonko's with the Weasley twins, intent on finding something suitable to use on Raven in their next Potions lesson. Alex and Kello made their way over to Dervish and Banges to search out some new quills. Drew headed off to the Three Broomsticks to have a butterbeer with a couple of handsome Slyth Sixth Years. Dove and Raven, finding themselves without any distinct purpose, decided to take a light stroll and allow themselves to enjoy the day.

As they walked, they came upon Gladrags wizardwear, and Dove suddenly made a slight noise of remembrance. "Hey, didn't we want to get some new sleeping robes?"

"Yes, of course. I'd nearly forgotten. Come on, let's see what they've got." Raven ushered her sister in ahead of her, clambering into the store with ease. Inside, they found themselves faced with every possible article of clothing in every imaginable size and color. Heading quickly past the latest dress robes and the newest shipment of designer cloaks, the girls made their way into the back left corner where the witches' sleepwear and lingerie were located. Struggling not to laugh at some of the frilly things on display, they sorted through a splendid array of sleeping robes, determined to find something they wouldn't later regret.

Raven giggled hysterically, holding up a crazy concoction of lace and ribbons that didn't give the impression of comfort she preferred. "Look at this, Dove. Who would wear this?"

Dove looked up and immediately chuckled at the sight of the strange feminine article that Raven held. "Who could wear that is a better question." Both girls erupted into an endless fit of giggles, resulting in a very stern woman approaching them from the front of the store.

"Can I help you two?" she demanded. She stood with her hands on her hips, but didn't give off too much severity in her tone. The girls settled their laughter and Raven replaced the tiny negligee before speaking.

"We're sorry. We're just looking for some suitable sleeping robes. Our old ones are getting kind of worn out, and we've never really bought any for ourselves." The older witch smiled at this and relaxed her features.

"Oh, of course. Well, my name is Gilda Gladrags, I own this shop. I'd be happy to assist you both. Is there anything particular you're looking for?"

The two girls shrugged and shook their heads no. Dove scratched at the back of her neck as she began. "Not really. We just want something special. But nothing silly, like that." She pointed at the lacey thing and Raven stifled another giggle. "We don't really know what to look for though."

Gilda surveyed them both up and down. "By 'special', do you mean something you might expect someone else to see? Like  boyfriend, perhaps? Or just something comfortable you can relax in?"

The girls smiled at the thought. "Well, I don't know, really. Why not both?" said Raven. Dove rolled her eyes at the mischief that sparked on her sister's face.

"Well, then, right this way. I think I may have just the thing." Gilda pointed excitedly and hurried a bit further toward the back of the shop. "These just came in last week, I haven't even been able to unpack them yet. They aren't your usual sleeping robes, mind you. They were designed by a witch who's made most of her fortune designing clothes for Muggles, so they rather resemble a Muggle sleeping gown. But they're made out of a delightful enchanted fabric that she created call Everflowing Satin. Here, feel this." She reached into a heavy wooden box and pulled out a pile of silky cloth. Holding it up by the straps, the girls surveyed it curiously.

It was a red ankle-length nightgown, very simple in appearance, but obviously deigned to show off a witch's figure. Two slits ran up each leg, thigh-high, and the material itself appeared to be made of water. It was beautiful. Cautiously, each girl stretched out a hand to grasp the cloth, gasping at the texture. It felt like cool, melted satin. It flowed beneath their fingertips, softly and gently, igniting the senses in their fingertips. Their eyes closed simultaneously at the luxurious feeling. Abruptly, both girls reached back and snapped their eyes open.

As one, they spoke. "We'll take them."

Minutes later, they were both heading to the front register. Dove was cradling a small bundle of tailored black cloth, and Raven held a similar bundle of white. They spoke happily with Gilda as they pulled out the required galleons and passed them over the counter.

"Would you like me to wrap those up for you?" Gilda asked, delighted at her first sale of the new Everflowing Satin nightrobes.

"Oh no," said Dove quickly. "We'll just carry them like this, thanks." She smiled conspiratorially at an amused shop owner and made to exit the store. As she and Raven stepped outside however, they bumped into someone. It was Professor Snape.

"Well," cried Raven in a laughing tone, "We're just running into you everywhere."

Snape raised his eyebrows at her lack of intimidated fear, his lip twitching in a near-smile. "Yes, it appears so. Perhaps you two should pay more attention to your environs."

Dove giggled at his subtle humor. "What are you doing here anyway? Can't wait to lay your hands on the newest designer robes, eh?" Raven stifled a loud chuckle, her cheeks turning pink in good humor. Snape rolled his eyes, but failed to berate them.

"No, Misses Thomas. I was having a new Warming Charm put on my cloak for this coming winter. I suggest you two do the same." He gave a mock-glare at the two, determined to beat them out. Before he could continue, however, his curiosity overcame him. "You two seem in rather good moods, what exactly are you doing here?"

"Ha, wouldn't you like to know." Dove flashed a smile at Raven, who barely contained her laughter. They continued this strange exchange of looks and understanding under Snape's curious eyes. He shrugged and shook his head at them, and they sped along down the street, giggling.

As Snape stepped forward into the shop, Dove called out over her shoulder, "Later, 'Fess! Hope that Warming Charm doesn't cause you to overheat!" Snape sighed heavily, carefully burying the smile that attempted to escape, and went inside. I'll never understand those girls.

***