Wow... so if you've read the last chapter you will have noticed that I named the story To Have a New Name... well that doesn't make THNM but... I don't really care! XP yeah... so....
This is a new chapter....
I was going to say something... but I forgot...
oh... here's one thing... the rating might go up later... why? well you just have to wait and see!
Chapter 2:
In which Snape is grumpy.
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She did not want to move. Her body felt groggy, as if she had been in an unnatural sleep. She was cold. And after a few minutes of having the chills, she decided to do something about it. She tried to move her arm as if to tuck the sheets under her chin, but her arm felt as if it weighed a thousand tonnes too much. Her bed felt comfortable, as she tried to bury deeper under the covers to escape from the chill of the room. She squinted, trying to see the room she was in. Her first guess was that this was a hospital, as that was where any respectable person would have taken her. But, where were the bright lights, the whiteness, and the horrible smell? Where were the noises of carts being pushed down the halls, of nurses chatting, and of terrified patients whispering as not to disturb the doctors.
There was complete silence. Except for the tiny rustle of the curtains, enclosing her bed, shivering in the drafty breeze.
Fear was bringing the missing strength back to her. She raised herself onto her elbows, and edged backwards until her head touched the wall. Something was not right. She rubbed her head against the wall to confirm her suspicion. The wall was made of stone. Big rough stone blocks. Like the ones that made up castles. Who would have been crazy enough to bring her to a castle instead of a hospital?
She could hear a heavy stone door opening. Footsteps echoed through out the room she was in, as someone was coming closer to her. She was frozen in fear. She was about to find out who it was that had brought her here, she wanted to be invisible, to merge with the blankets. So no one would notice her.
The curtains were thrown back in one swift motion.
It was taking awhile for her eyes to adjust to the light. It seemed that the curtains had been muffling the light. Whoever had thrown the curtains, was now busy, checking her pulse.
She blinked.
Her eyes were beginning to come into focus now. The woman before her, tsking under her breath, was the spitting image of a nurse from the nineteen hundreds.
She blinked again.
The nurse started muttering something and waved a twig around. A bottle started to fly towards the nurse's outstretched hand. The nurse caught it, and started to pour a green liquid into a goblet.
She blinked.
Flying bottles? Goblets? Her eyes went wide. As she realized other things that were out of place. Paintings that moved was just one of them.
She screamed.
The nurse dropped the bottle, and it broke into little pieces on the ground. The nurse glared at her. Took out that stick and muttered again. The next moment, the bottle was back in one piece, and there was no spill.
She screamed again, louder this time. Threw of the covers, and jumped out of the bed. She did not even think about what she was wearing, only wearing a thin robe. Normally she would have paused to consider why she was wearing such odd clothes or be grateful that she was not wearing a hospital gown. But trivial thoughts like that were far from being in top priority at the moment. She started to run towards a double door. Her energy was purely fueled by adrenaline. She was sprinting. Almost there.
The door opened, and a man dressed all in black strode in. Just in time for her to collide with him. She bounced off, and landed on the ground with a thud. Knocking herself unconscious.
* * *
Severus Snape was definitely annoyed. Scratch that, was irritated to the point of frustration. Okay, maybe he was just a tad furious. But that did not really matter.
What mattered was that he had gone into the hospital wing to check on the girl, just to see if she was still alive. He opened the door, and someone ran head first into him. It was that annoying girl. Merlin damn her. If she had enough energy to run like that, she should have enough energy to think clearly. As in DO NOT RUN INTO PEOPLE.
His chest still hurt.
It was not his fault that the girl had fallen after running into him. It was not his fault that she cracked her head on the stone floor. It was not his fault that she had fallen unconscious.
But, that damn mediwitch Pomfrey was making everything seem to be his fault. She was practically screaming at him right now. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it definitely felt like he was being screamed at. His pride still hurt.
"You could have had the decency of trying to catch her when she fell!" Pomfrey hissed at him. Her patient lying on a cot, head stitched, and now in a deep sleep. Snape's temper finally broke
"I, unlike some people, am not used to being run into by little girls," his words came out as a small hiss. "I, unlike some people, am not used to having to catch swooning girls." His eyes frosted over with an angry haze. He was not happy. He was not nice. He was pissed off.
He glared at Pomfrey for a full three seconds. Before spinning on his heal. His black cloak sweeping out behind him. He strode through the entrance way.
His walk was graceful because he was angry. It spoke of power. Each stride he took was laced with annoyance. It was a good thing that there were not any students in the school anymore. Otherwise they would have been victims to terrible wrath.
It was someway down one of the staircases on the way down to the dungeons, that his walked started to change. It was a gradual change, one that would not have been noticed, unless you compared it to what his walk had originally been like.
It was definitely a good thing that there were no students left in the school. Otherwise they might have had a heart attack. For they would have unmistakably seen their dreaded Potions Master stomping through the corridors, like an insolent child who had been told off for going to near a treat.
* * *
Dumbledore looked up. His fire was sputtering to life. He really like fire. It was one of his passions that he had kept from most people from knowing. In the muggle world, he would have been considered as being a bit of a pyromaniac.
A deliberate cough came from the flames. Madame Pomfrey's head was forming in between them.
"Headmaster?" She asked making sure that she had his attention. Dumbledore was known for looking off into space for long periods of time, while still being able to keep up the impression that he was actually paying attention.
"Poppy!" Dumbledore replied. "So, how is the little patient?" A look of annoyance passed over the mediwitch's face.
"She was doing quite well in fact. But she was knocked unconscious again." Dumbledore raised one of his eyebrows. "She ran into Severus, and fell, rendering herself unconscious." Dumbledore's other eyebrow joined the first raised one. "She is fine now, but I was worried for a bit." A hesitant look came across the witch's face.
"Is there anything else, Poppy?" asked the Headmaster after a short pause.
"Well," uncertainty laced her voice. "The reason she ran into Severus, is that she was running from me. I'm pretty certain I didn't do anything wrong. But, she was screaming every time I used magic."
"Well," Dumbledore said a bit surprised. "It seems that she might be a muggle." Pomfrey rolled her eyes with impatience. Dumbledore had a love of saying the obvious. She assumed it was for dramatic effect. His eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. "Though, she cannot be a muggle, otherwise she would not have been able to come anywhere near the school. I am assuming that she is a witch without any magical training."
"Really?" Pomfrey questioned. " I would have thought that one of the schools would have picked her up. There haven't been any rogue witches or wizards since the Agreement of Study in 1758."
"I wouldn't be so sure if I was you." Replied Dumbledore absent mindedly. "There are probably quite a few of them, we just do not ever hear of them. The Agreement of Study stated that all schools must accept students that have magical powers, and that no child should be overlooked. Since then, there have been a number of schools built or destroyed. The new schools have never singed any contracts since 1901. Among the schools that fell apart were ones that had signed the contract. There could be any number of children who never go to school and have no idea what their powers are." There was a awkward pause as Pomfrey tried and decide what to say next after digesting the information.
"Ah," was the only sound that the witch could manage. Her mind still reeling from the dangerous possibility of untrained magical children or even adults in the muggle world. The fear of prosecution of the underdogs had been a nightmare of the magical world ever since the first witch hunts. Dumbledore gave her a dim smile, his mind obviously on other matters.
"Maybe I should be there when the girl wakes up." the Headmaster suggested. "Or maybe even Severus." This comment earned him a stern glare from Pomfrey. "As he was the one who rescued the girl. He may be something familiar to her, help her make the transition into our world." Pomfrey was grumbling something underneath her breath. Dumbledore heard what she was saying of course, but he chose to ignore it. Besides, he didn't think that Severus would have appreciated Dumbledore sticking up for him. In fact the Headmaster knew for certain that Severus would have been quite embarrassed. "I'll be down in a few minutes." The Headmaster informed the witch's head. She nodded before magically disappearing, recognizing the dismissal.
The Headmaster sprinkled some powder onto his head.
"Severus's Chambers." He spoke. The next minute, he was seeing the inside of Snape's chambers. His lip curled in disgust. There was one word to describe these rooms. Black. He wished Severus would listen to him sometimes and add a bit of gold. Maybe even a bit of red. But, of course, Severus would always be a stubborn man, and he would not listen to Dumbledore's suggestions.
"Severus?" asked Dumbledore. He knew that the most likely place for the Snape to be would either be here, or in the Potions' lab.
"Headmaster," a curt greeting came from one of the armchairs that looked hard enough to break your bones if you tries to flop onto one of them. Snape was sitting there with one leg over the arm rest. It looked like the most uncomfortable position in such a horrible chair. But, then again Snape had always been different. He held a book in his hands. The cover was a tattered black, gray in some places, especially around the binding, showing that it had obviously had lots of use over the years. The book came from Snape's own collection. He hardly every used any in the library. For any book on potions in the library, Snape already owned. His study's walls were lined with book shelves. If there had ever been a profession for a librarian in a library completely dedicated to potions, Snape would have been right at home with it. Well, only if he still had time to experiment.
"I would like you to come down to the hospital wing, Severus." Dumbledore informed the wretched man. Snape started. He straightened up in his chair.
"What if I say no?" He said, rebellion clearly evident in his posture. Well only evident to the man who had known Snape for most of his life.
"If you say no," Dumbledore started, mischief shining in his eyes. "Well lets just say that Hagrid will receive an anonymous tip that you have developed a sudden passion for his rock cakes." Snape's eyes widden in horror. He had an encounter with Hagrid's cooking when he had been a student here. He still had nightmares about it sometimes. "Well then, in that case, I shall be expecting your presence in the hospital wing as soon as you can make it. You will stay there until I let you leave." Snape just nodded, his eyes still wide with terror.
Dumbledore's presence left Snape's study. Dumbledore let out a hearty chuckle as he remembered Snape's expression. Snape, on the other hand, was cursing himself for being gullible and Dumbledore for being such a manipulative old man.
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Woot!! I've finished another chapter!!! And its longer than the first!! XD
um okay...
so first of all
When I was talking about the Agreement of Study in 1758... I meant that there was an agreement between the schools to teach any child who had magical powers (or even squibs). This way there would be no children being punished for setting pythons on their cousins. If every child that was a witch or wizard was taught... the magical world would be much safer. Otherwise the witch hunts would start up again.
yeah...
I know my history *rolls eyes at self*
Oh and I have no clue as to how the heads magically appear in the fire.
They obviously don't use floo powder. Because that way their head would be transported to the other place....
besides... its not like they are going to stick their head into a fire place just to talk to someone. I don't think that would be very respectable. Just imagine. Walking around a house. And finding someone lying in front of a fire. With their head in the flames talking to themselves.