As for my reviewers:
Katriana: I am very flattered that I make the cut in your book ;)
The Dark Luna Angel: I look the type, don't I eh? *now knows how Severus feels for always being considered the culprit for everything. Yet here I am, uploading every single time I get online. I am glad you like the way I write Snape. hehehe.
t.a.g.: Yep, it is definately not Voldemort. The old Moldy is dead, buried, cremated, whatever they did to get rid of the muck he inhabited while he was still alive. heh.
Jaimynsfire: More Lupin eh? Are you sure? I don't write a good Lupin. But I will try for your sake, although Snape here, who's watching over my houlder is telling me to 'call the silly woman's bluff' *ducks*
Elizabeth Bathory: I am glad you like the story. I can't make the chapters longer, because I get tired after more than 3 pages and then Snape starts to drawl and wander off the point to other things, and he really becomes a pest rather than a narrator: in short, I can't keep it all tied up and moving along fast. As for more description, since it is through Snape's eyes, he wouldn't be describing in detail a place he is highly familiar with, nor a situation (such as Harry soaking his bed with blood) highly distressing to him. But I will try to give some more details, if I can squeeze them in.
by the way... what does rnrnrn mean!?
Now, on to the story
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The next house elf that comes asking me to eat something will be hexed out of the window and will not land until it has circumnavigated the globe twice. They are driving me mad! I am not hungry, or thirsty, or interested in any sort of pudding. But I am surrounded by imbeciles, or at least those disrespectful to my need, my utter need for concentration.
"Professor Snape?"
Speaking of which... Weasley. I do hope he is not here with more issues about his emotional state.
"Can't you see I am working, and working hard, Weasley? What is it?" The sound of my voice comes so forced through my clenched teeth that it resembles parseltongue.
"Sir, I was wondering..."
My nerves are frazzled. That is why I cannot tolerate any sound, and that includes Weasley blabbering.
"I don't care what you are wondering, Weasley. I don't have time for musings of deranged minds. I am far too busy racing the clock here to save your illustrious friend from getting kicked out of his body, so to speak, so I would be most grateful if you just were on your way."
Weasley's face falls, but I care not. He leaves and I go back to my mouldy book. It has to be at least 50 years old and its author favoured fancy language. My head is throbbing. If a house elf is not sufficiently traumatised and dares approach me again, I will send it to get me a headache relieving potion.
I write down in normal English what I learn, which is not much.
Most potent dark wizards were known to strive for immortality. It almost seems a common pattern, along with ruling the world they live in. Psyche Logaris looked into the matter of those advent Dark Arts users in 1946, and discovered that although they were quite potent in their magic usage, they seemed to be governed by something even higher than logic and common sense. She examined the wand of Grindelwald and found that not only there was a strong aura of darkness resonating, but also something even darker that seemed to be controlling the very core of the wand. She therefore put forward the unsupported and highly contested hypothesis that perhaps all truly evil overlords that actually did threaten the wizarding world with their power were not governed exclusively by their own impulses and wishes, and thus were led to making errors that at times were not characteristic of their intelligence.
This is all very interesting, but it is not pointing me to a clear direction of solving the problem at hand. Although, at the back of my mind, something is nagging me. The passage -is- pointing at a direction, at a particular step to take. There is a phrase in the small resume I had written that I cannot get off my mind: They were led to making errors uncharacteristic of their intelligence.
I shut the book and get up. Looking outside, I blink. The sun is at exactly the same level as when I entered the library. I obviously have been here more than a few minutes so... is it possible that I just spent 24 hours straight in the library?
As I come out, I bump into Minerva. Just my luck. I was planning to go crash for only a few minutes, just so that the letters would stop dancing on the pages. I say nothing, just look at her, with a decidedly stoic expression, I am sure. She looks anxious.
"Severus, I can't find Harry."
"What do you mean, you can't find him? He is in--", I cut off when my eyes meet hers. Oh, they didn't. "-- he is not in the infirmary. Who let him off?"
"He just walked away, Severus. Remus is already looking for him. I don't know where he is."
That doesn't sound comforting, and it certainly is not soothing to the nerves. I barely hear myself as I walk off snapping to Minerva, with no respect for her being Headmistress whatsoever, "And I suppose we run this place like a freaking hotel! I wouldn't be surprised if every remaining Death Eater came in here, dined and plundered, then left and we wouldn't even find his calling card!"
However much we search, in all the castle and even Hogsmeade, there is no trace of Potter. I get an idea then. I grab Lupin's arm, and he looks at me, aloof and pale.
"Lupin." I growl, virtually, but he is not paying attention to me. I shake him a little.
"Lupin, this is important! Do you still have that infernal Map? Does the boy have it?"
I would never be caught dead going through Potter's stuff in his dormitory, but Minerva and Remus do, and they find that loathed paper. It had, most of the times, been what had given Black the leverage to play pranks on me and avoid those that I tried to pull on him.
Instinctively, when Lupin comes forward with it, I take a step back. That brings a rather irritating light in the werewolf's eyes. He points his wand and says the once-desired password to the thing.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
We all peer into the outline of the castle, as Remus orders it to show each level. There is no sign of Harry in all the levels down to ground floor. Even in the dungeons. I am ready to give up and start to just shriek his name until he somehow hears me, when Lupin gets an idea.
"Wait. There is one place we have not checked. Revelo Camara."
The whole paper is painted an inky black, with oblong spaces connecting each other. All three of us paled. I did not know what to think. Harry Potter's dot appeared, and it was not moving.
Harry was in the Chamber of Secrets.
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Do not even try to convince me you expected that....