Authoritrix Notes: This one came out of no where.
The Faking Spell
By: TrSolarCat / RocketSolarCat
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The best of luck had struck him. He was partnered with his worst enemy, Sirius Black—and he was on his way to meet another formidable acquaintance of his: Remus Lupin. Snape didn't feel like hearing Sirius' obviously rude comments—or Lupin's equally obvious nice comments towards him.
The cold air nipped at his face, the wind was moaning deeply as he hugged his sides, grease-matted hair strung—the rain was bitterly frosty that night. He was not wearing his wizardly outfit instead a muggle's attire—a lengthy trench coat that was jet black, navy pants and a dressy shirt (that was everything but matching).
He found that even though he was dressed as a muggle, people still found him strange. Maybe it was his mannerism—he had an odd habit of scowling at the muggles he passed (saying something rancid about their lineage or the fact that he was saving a primitive race of beings who were known to hate the wizarding world anyhow). Naturally, they couldn't possibly hear him, but they still avoided him in the most apparent ways.
The mission was this, he needn't relayed in his head, but found there wasn't anything better to do at the time: Meet Sirius Black, get on the train—go to Lupin. Simple enough, he had wondered hastily if Albus Dumbledore was patronizing him. He had even asked the old sorcerer if he was being condescending. Naturally, Dumbledore would give him one of those cheery smiles and say— "Now why would I be doing that, Severus?"
That was enough proof for him to be certain Dumbledore actually was patronizing him.
When he reached the train station Snape seen the ticket master and headed in that direction. As he began to go further—he noticed a rather large black dog at his heels the loathsome creature was trailing behind him aimlessly. This went on several seconds as he approached the ticket booth soundlessly—then he abruptly stopped—the dog hit his feet.
Giving an annoying yelp, as he looked up at Snape, who in turn was looking down at him with a nasty look curling his lip in disgust— "Get!"
He yelled, but the dog didn't budge—instead aimed to hike its leg.
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"You should've seen the look on that ol' git's face!" Sirius laughed heartily from one side of the darkened room closest to the fire. To his right sat Remus Lupin who was also laughing in his hysterical voice, overly loud.
Snape was sitting in the opposite corner of the chamber—pretending not to hear a thing. After all it wasn't his place to stop Sirius' jokes from making his companion's laughing. And laugh Lupin was doing—a royal festival of laughs—Snape wondered if Lupin was even breathing at all.
It had been the most horrid trip he had ever taken—the legs of his pants were soaked in animal urine, he was surrounded by Mud-Bloods and he was with Sirius the whole time. He remembered sometime in the trip thinking to himself: "Does this git ever sleep?" Sleep is what he wanted to do—ever sense he'd been called to be a spy once more, he wasn't given any full nights of slumber. It wouldn't have been such a bad trip if he had Dumbledore's permission to hit Sirius over the head (repeatedly with a blunt object)—and get some much-needed sleep.
The two Marauders were having a hardy laugh at his account—just like the good old days, he supposed. Except this time, he fortunately didn't end up in the Hospital Wing—so far.
"Now…" Lupin couldn't cease his laughter but was trying in vain, "We have…a…mission to do."
"Indeed." Snape replied from his hidden place in the corner, "So, if you two have had enough…fun…I suggest we get to it. Or would you rather talk about animal urine more?"
"As tempting as that is—." Sirius began, but seen Snape's eyes provokingly shift towards the a large walking stick that was situated beside him, he changed his mood rapidly, still holding the irritating smile on his face, "We really should get to business."
"Well, Dumbledore wants you to spy on Voldemort, you know—but he is worried about you getting caught."
Lupin was talking idly, in his eccentric way again. Snape found himself tuning the man's voice out completely, hearing the last part perfectly—"So you report to me, and I report to Sirius—that way everyone is out of danger."
"Fine." Severus growled, slanting his eyes at the man, "Lets just go already, Lupin, before I age further!"
Lupin gave a curt shrug of his shoulders, coolly saying. "Alright."
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Severus' eyes ached—his head was splitting with agony. In pain he tried to lift himself carefully—he was face up against a cold cobblestone floor, his back arched in a spasmodic way as he continued to try getting up.
"Where in bloody hell am I?" He wondered, through his ragged breaths, he tried once more to pull himself up. Putting a hand successfully under him—he felt a warm liquid under him. His hand went up onto the back of his head—blood was pouring from a deep gash at the base of his neck.
Wincing he stood up, glancing about him, he found that he was in a back alley—somewhere close to Knock-turn Alley.
The mission wasn't supposed to be in Diagon Alley at all.
"Are you sure he ran down this way?" Came a voice yet it sounded as if it was coming through a thick panel of glass—it was faded and hard to understand.
"Yes, the damn traitor! He came down here—but remember—don't harm him. Voldemort wants him alive!" Lucius Malfoy's voice called out, and then from the opposite end of the alley he emerged, wearing the black veil of the Death Eaters. Eyes piercing through him—Lucius gave a grunt as he seen Severus. "Here!"
Snape instinctively groped through his outfit pockets for his hickory wand—shockingly aiming at Malfoy. Preparing to shout his warning at the blond Death Eater—but then another Death Eater came forth standing at the blond's side.
"You check down here—I'm going around Knock-Turn alley again." Lucius demanded pushing the Death Eater down into the alley.
Doesn't he see me? I'm right in front of him. The professor wondered, his face screwed up in awe—yet as the other Death Eater came closer—he too didn't act as though he had seen Snape.
"G'ddamn that man, Lucius. You check this alley—I'll go in the lighted one." The hooded figure groaned in complaint, as he passed right by Snape—without as much as a glance to him.
"Expelliousa!" Snape yelled aiming his wand briskly at the hooded man, but nothing leapt from the tip of the wand.
That's when he realized something was wrong with him—not the Death Eaters. No spells, hearing things incoherently—he suddenly glanced down at the ground, covered in tiny rivulets of water. Looking deeply into a puddle he comprehend at last—that he was invisible.
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Authoritrix Notes: That was off the cuff, and I don't know where it is goin'. Tell me if you liked/disliked it. I don't expect many to like it, actually, so….It's just what I wrote one day whilst I was sick.