Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Elena. All credit goes to the lovely Ms. Rowling.
And on with the show…
4
Elena watched Severus as he sat stiffly in the chair in front of her. His hostility at discovering her presence had been unpleasant, but expected. Severus Snape was most definitely not a people person…or a ghost person, for that matter.
She had decided to approach Severus first. The decision had been made on the basis of two factors. One, he was the first, and only, person to spot her as she practiced shifting into a visible form. Two, he was probably the staff member most likely to understand betrayal and disillusionment. Severus had lived a truly screwed up life as a double agent; he knew pain, both corporeal and spiritual agony.
Describing her life to the perpetually twinkly-eyed Dumbledore would have been unbearable. Not that Dumbledore was naïve; on the contrary, he could be quite the realist, especially in light of the war. Elena was simply convinced that he would not understand her experiences.
Thus, she had decided to approach Severus, despite the fact that he often made her uncomfortable. What was a little discomfort when she was going to have to relive the most unbearable experiences of her thousand-year existence?
Almost a month after she had her run-in with the Potions Master, Elena had drifted into the dungeons to meet with him. She knew the general region in which his quarters were located, but the exact location had never been a piece of knowledge she was particularly interested in.
Looking down the dark corridor that hid the entrance to his chambers, Elena decided to enlist the aid of the castle. Walking up to a particularly ugly gargoyle that perched on a large, skull shaped boulder, she carefully sent out a tendril of power. The creature moved slightly, the stone shifted and crackling as he awoke from his slumber.
The creature, whose face was an awkward mixture of bear and wild boar, yawned, exposing an impressive rack of sharp teeth. He shook his massive head, causing dust to drift from his craggy features.
Focusing upon her as he became aware of his surroundings, the gargoyle gave her smile that could have been either menacing or welcoming. Elena, deciding on the latter interpretation, shot a smile back at him.
"Good, afternoon," she said politely. She had learned, over the years, that Hogwarts' permanent residents could be quite touchy when it came to formalities.
"Good afternoon, yerself," he grumbled in an appropriately gravelly voice. "Why did you wake me, lass?"
Adopting an expression of feminine helplessness, Elena replied, "I was wondering if you might be able to direct me to Professor Snape's quarters. I'm afraid I'm lost."
He gave her an appraising look. "Newly dead, are ye?"
Smirking slightly – she was most likely older than him – Elena nodded, hoping for pity. These gargoyles could be exceedingly tight-mouthed when it came to handing out information.
"Dinna worry, love. It'll get easier with time." His eyes grew shrewd. "Now why would a wee thing like you be looking for the Potions bastard? Ye'd be better off with the company of the ghosts upstairs. I canna say that the Bloody Baron is particularly good company, but Nearly-Headless Nick a gallant enough."
Digging for an excuse, Elena blurted, "I had him as my Potions professor. He was just dreadful…he made me cry. I wanted to give him a bit of a scare now that he can't take house points," she finished with a grin.
The gargoyle let out a bark of laughter. "Now, there's a lass. I hope you scare the robes off 'im."
Elena smiles, and replied, "I certainly hope not. I don't want to die again."
With another laugh, the gargoyle pointed at a snake statue down the corridor. "That's his guardian. A rude beast by the name o' Sarutin. I think the password is lycanthrope, or sometin' like that. Then again, I guess you won't be needed a password, aye?"
"Aye," she agreed. "Thank you very much for your help."
"I hope you scare the greasy bastard, right well. Deserves it, 'e does. Haven't seen a nastier piece o' work in a good long while." When he finished wishing ill upon Professor Snape the gargoyle resumed his original position and froze into stone sleep. Well, not quite his original position, Elena noted wryly. He had a small smile lighting his ugly features now.
Heading toward the snake statue, Elena felt coldness descend on her. With a shudder, Elena noted how close she was to Salazar's old passageway. Dismissing the chill that spread down her spine she stopped before the guardian.
It was a beautifully made monument, with each scale wrought in delicate detail. It was also an amazingly obvious choice for the concealment of the chambers of the Head of Slytherin. She had though Severus would be a little less obvious, but then shrugged. Clichés were clichés for a reason. Snakes and Slytherins went together like Chinese dasgas and fire pixies.
She simply passed through the stolid serpent and found herself in what must have been Severus' living room. It was a surprisingly comfortable space. She had imagined a reproduction of his classroom. A few uncomfortable oak benches, a cauldron simmering in the corner, cold stone floors, and maybe a head floating in murky formaldehyde as a decorative centerpiece.
Instead, the floors were covered with old, but rich Persian carpets. The furniture was a combination of rich green and deep maple, and looked very comfortable. A lovely globe, eighteenth century, if Elena remembered correctly, decorated one corner, and moving paintings depicting various cities around the world graced his walls. The Viennese and Florentine views were particularly appealing, in her opinion.
With a smile, Elena noted that a cauldron was indeed simmering in another corner. At least she had been right about something. Walking closer to see what the Poitions Master was brewing, Elena caught sight of a tapestry that decorated the wall that contained the door through which she had entered.
If she had held any color, Elena was sure it would have drained from her face. On the wall, Salazar Slytherin stood in all his beautiful, horrible glory. A surprisingly lifelike rendering, she noted with peculiar detatchment. Long black hair tied back in a queue, angular, almost delicate features, sensuous lips, and those leaf-green eyes that seemed to glitter with ambition and power.
He looked like an angel. She supposed that he had always been an angel in her eyes. First, he had been the angel Gabriel, rescuing her from the dullness of her existence. Then he transformed into Lucifer; still almost unearthly in his beauty, but with an aura of cruel power lingering about him.
She barely resisted the impulse to reach out with her powers to snatch the offensive tapestry from the wall and toss it into the small fire that smoldered in Severus' fireplace. Unable to remain in the presence of that disturbing image, Elena wandered over to a door that was slightly ajar.
Floating through the barrier Elena found herself in what must have been Severus' study. It was lined with hundreds of potions texts and scrolls. A leather sofa and armchair, both well-used, filled up the space that wasn't occupied by books. Grinning at the opportunity to explore Severus' collection, Elena began perusing the titles.
She still loved potions, despite the many painful connotations it carried for her, and delighted in the advances that the art had made over time. She had avidly tracked the breakthroughs made by the masters of each successive age. Elena had been delighted when she had found that Severus would join the faculty, some eighteen years ago. He was well-established in the field, and destined for great things.
Although Elena's personal discomfort with the Potions Master had kept her from witnessing many of his experiments, Elena had enjoyed his accomplishments. The Wolfsbane Potion had been an exceptionally delightful invention that had kept Elena grinning for a week. Absolutely brilliant.
Noticing a copy of Moste Potente Potions, IV, Elena let out a small cry of delight and levitated it off the shelf. She had been aware that a new volume had been released, but the prudish Pince had yet to order a copy for the main library. Settling onto the couch, or, to be more accurate, floating millimeters above the couch's surface, Elena opened the book and began scanning the new entries.
5
Faced with a very pissed Potions Master, Elena had second thoughts about bearing her rather ancient and bruised soul. She didn't expect hugs and cookies to have greeted her appearance, but she had a difficult story to tell and she wanted at least a pinch of compassion. Deciding that the hasty appearance in the study of a compassionate Snape was about as likely as the arrival of a dancing Jobjuh beast, Elena gathered her strength and settled back onto the couch.
"It's a long story," she began, "and it has come time for me to tell it." Severus quirked an eyebrow, as if to say, 'let's hurry this along, shall we?' Shooting him a dirty glance she continued.
"My name is Elena Morreton. I was a member of Hogwarts' first entering class, nearly one-thousand years ago. There were only twenty-seven students total, that year, and no houses had been established, yet. We were the guinea pigs, as muggles would say, and the founders were still testing their system. The founders were also the only professors at the school."
"Rowena Ravenclaw taught transfiguration and ruins. Godric Gryffindor was professor of charms and magical creatures, and Helga Hufflepuff taught healing arts and earth magic. Salazar Sytherin taught potions and the dark arts…there was no such thing as defense in my time."
"I was a good student, perhaps the best." At Severus' smirk, she snapped, "I'm not being arrogant, Professor. Having a few hundred years to reflect on the past tends to provide perspective and detachment. Now, can I continue?"
"Of course," he replied, with apparent disinterest, but Elena could tell that he was already fascinated by her story. One didn't get a direct line to the era of the founders very often.
"As I was saying, I was a good student. I excelled in every subject, with the minor exception of magical creature, but my deepest interest lay in your own field…potions."
Deviating slightly from her tale, Elena couldn't help injecting, "Your quite talented, by the way, and I have seen a great deal of potions masters come and go." If Elena wasn't mistaken, she actually saw color rise in his sallow skin. Who would have thought? She had just embarrassed Severus Snape.
Smiling to herself, Elena continued. "I was already studying advanced potions in my sixth year when Professor Slytherin approached me with an offer to serve as his apprentice. I was flattered by his proposal. He was a harsh and demanding taskmaster, and any sign of approval was a rare and precious gift. I imagine your students view you in much the same way, Severus."
"I was also quite enamored of my Potions Master. He was a handsome and deeply compelling man, and wore his power around himself like a mantle. I accepted his offer with naïve enthusiasm. Over the next year I fell painfully in love with him."
She paused, thinking back to what had been the happiest time of her life. Salazar had shown her magic that she hadn't even imagined, and opened her eyes to a world of wonder and enchantment. He had also introduced her to the delights of sex. Salazar had been as talented a lover as he was a potions master, enthralling her body and heart. Her reminiscences were interrupted by Severus.
"Ah…unrequited young love. I adore these stories," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
She raised a delicate brow in quiet censure. "Quite the contrary, Severus. Slazar returned my affections with enthusiasm."
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