26. [ Choices ]
The Serpent's den is a component of the dungeons, its only light filtered through 50 feet of slightly murky lake water. Its underground position with walls and floors of basalt added to the cool damp darkness making it a gloomy place even on a sunny day. House banners of green and silver hung on the walls along with eerie tapestries of grey, black, brown, and shades of green depicting fierce bloody battle scenes between serpents and men.
Basalt is the main stone of Hogwarts foundation. It is one of the hardest rocks on earth, dark, solid, strong, unyielding, and difficult to hewn; so much like the members of the House of Slytherin. It was far cry from the bold pink and red granite and gold toned travertine of the Gryffindor Common room.
As such the statuary and carvings bent to the will of the basalt and the rough interpretation of the theme created a hideous beauty. The carved serpents coiled around pillars and crept along the floor, creating reptilian moulding and crown decorations. Many of the snakes emerged from the wall positioned to swallow whole the silver rat and rabbit shaped torches lighting the den, vividly representing a win or lose, eat or be eaten Slytherin view of the world.
Some carvings hid in the dark corners, their black fire opal or ruby eyes with inlaid onyx slits flashed in the firelight scaring first year Slytherins into hysterics and requiring prefects to alert the head of house to calm them down.
The shadows flickered over the walls and the moss green carpets on the floor gave the room a forbidden forest atmosphere. The constant chilliness of the air made people ill from time to time but not a real feeling of physically being cold. No, the physical cold could be chased away by the roaring fireplace and the warming spells rumoured to be placed by the headmaster on the whole of the castle. No, it was the cold feeling coursing through the veins, the pairs of eyes around every corner, the ears listening everywhere, demanding a level of wariness when in the common room. Not many people could stand this constant sensation of being silently observed and so naturally many students were out or stayed in their rooms.
Yet Draco Malfoy lounged across one of the green leather couches in the currently deserted Slytherin common room that was now his new home. It would probably stay empty for the rest of the night since most of the students were either home, dead, or being questioned at the Ministry about the attack on Halloween. Draco had already thoroughly been questioned by an angry, grim looking Alastor Moody and counselled by Remus Lupin after they found the lifeless body of his father. His mother was arrested and thrown in Azkaban. where she was awaiting interrogation about his fathers' Death Eater activities, and she would be lucky if she got away with a simple sentence of imprisonment.
Rampant rumours informed him that the majority of the Wizard's Council were in favour of administering the Dementor's kiss to the incarcerated and he deeply feared for his mother. Even though Albus Dumbledore held dominion over the captured wizards and witches it would only be a matter of time until a public outcry for justice would follow the deaths of several students. Hogwarts was empty given that all the teachers and students were gone; most of them either at home or injured in St. Mungo's being treated on various hexes and curses- the worst being Madame Sprout who was held under the Cruciatus Curse for several minutes.
The fire burned down to embers but the tall, pale, blond boy didn't feel anything anymore. He rather gathered his robes closer around his body trying to sink deeper into the sofa cushions in a vain attempt to draw some comfort in the warmth. Once again the images of his father's body invaded his mind torturing him again with the memories of the night Moody dragged him out of bed and down to the great hall to identify the remains.
After it was clear the attack failed, the aurors swarmed around the castle. He ran back to the common room and hid in bed not even aware of what he was hiding from, dragging the covers over his head. A few hours passed when he felt Moody ripping away the bedding, abruptly yanking him up by the shoulders and taking his wand. "Won't be needing that for a while", Moody growled.
"Come on now boy. There is something I want you to see. You need to see the rewards for being a Death Eater." Barked the craggy old auror shoving Draco in front of him and jabbing his wand into the boy's back forcing him down the stairs and into the dark dungeon hallways.
The two walked silently with Draco stumbling with each shove, recalling the click clump sound of Moody's artificial limb against the stone. He could still feel Moody's wand poking into his back making him acutely aware that Moody could easily cast the killing curse and excuse it as an attack later. When they reached the empty hall Draco heard shouting voices elsewhere in the castle and suspected aurors where searching the place for any hidden Death Eaters.
Orange and black shreds of crepe paper littered the floor everywhere, and smashed pumpkins were smeared on tables and walls. A clearing in the middle of the hall acted as a temporary morgue where several bodies covered by robes lay still in rows. Moody pushed Draco nearer to one figure on the floor. Draco tried to mentally prepare for what he was about to see but he had nothing to fortify against this confrontation with the dead, especially his father. "Tell me who this is, boy." growled Moody as he whipped the black robe away from the corpse.
The body wasn't mangled, the only indication that he was dead and not napping was his wide open and empty grey eyes that used to dance with mirth and glint with cunning. The face was flawless as usual and a strand of silver hair covered part of the right cheek. Draco slowly dropped to one knee and with lightly shaking fingers swept the hair away from the staring face, next gently closing the lids of the eyes while dropping his head trying to chase away the grief that threatened to consume him. Shaking his head and desperately fighting the tears; he would not break down in front of this self satisfied auror, he was a Slytherin damn it. Rising while still staring at the face of his dead father, he felt like succumbing to numbness.
"Have a good look, laddy because you might just end up exactly like him. Snuffed out by a clean killing curse. I presume you are aquatinted with those, aren't you?" Moody pointed his wand at the boy and sneered, somehow it looked more vicious than Snape's usual sneer. Maybe because the Potion Master never pointed a wand at you while he lectured.
Draco awaited either a hex or detainment but not being dragged to another cloak covered body, this time a smaller one and Moody lifted the robe away with his wand. For a moment all air left Draco's lungs and he gasped when he saw a face he had seen daily in charms and potions. There laid Justin Finch-Fletchley, a mudblood Hufflepuff, his face twisted in agony, the hand gripping the wand so hard that the knuckles were still white. Draco jerked realising with a start that he was killed with a continuos application of the cruciatus curse.
He felt stinging acid hit his throat and turned away quickly before vomiting the little he ate at the ball slumping onto the hard stone floor trying to banish from his mind the thought that killings like these were a speciality of his aunt Bellatrix. He heard steps approaching and prepared for a curse when instead he felt the comfort of a heavy hand on his back which began to rub in a soothing manner until he felt his stomach settling down again.
"I know this is hard for you," The headmaster's voice sounded calming and soothing when Draco looked up and he was grateful when the older man helped him on his shaky legs with a surprisingly strong grip. The blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles searched the boy's face before he let him go gently. "How are you feeling, Draco?"
Draco inhaled deeply and avoided looking down again. "I am alright, Sir." His voices quaver betraying him.
Dumbledore sighed softly and placed his hand once again on the slender boy's shoulder. "I am not pleased by Alastor Moody's actions tonight and I can only apologise for it."
Draco scrutinized him for a moment, and then simply nodding mutely.
"Do you wish to return to your common room or would you care to have a cup of tea in my office? I could use one right now." The calm voice was laced with concern and understanding.
It was a simple enough question but loaded with many layers, the Slytherin den or the Headmaster's office? Somehow Draco knew that right here and now he had to make a choice and for one tiny second he remembered the agony-ridden face of his classmate- then he turned around to face the Headmaster.
"I think I could use a cup as well."
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They had talked for hours, not about Voldemort or Death Eaters but about growing up as a pureblood and Draco was surprised to hear that Dumbledore himself came from a pureblood family. The office had been warm and a merry fire flickered in the hearth somehow easing some of the terrible pictures of last night. Images of Death Eaters pointing their wands ready to kill, not caring whether they hit their own flesh, the screams of fear and terror and the many flashes of green light Draco witnessed in the hall with students going down without any defence.
"How should they defend themselves against a heavily trained and armed Death Eater? Most were children, unarmed for the night and in the mood for some pumpkin juice and some snogging, their only worries being caught by Snape who would no doubt take off house points."
For the first time Draco was acutely aware how much these castle rules and procedures were a stabilising factor in a constantly shifting world that was now his life. It wasn't that he liked muggleborns or that he didn't think that some of the ideas Voldemort pursued were worth considering, like so many wizards had thought before his first rising, but he had not been prepared for this onslaught of violence, this killing without questioning, this lack of complete rational control.
If he really faced the situation he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. He could stay as he was, waiting how things turned out with his mother and waiting till he left Hogwarts to follow his father's footsteps- in every way. Or he could turn away from it all, turn away from his mother, the Malfoy fortune, and the principles he had been taught all his life. His hands gripped his wand tightly, as he looked into the now empty fireplace trying to make yet another choice that would impact his whole life. What was he to do?
"Good evening, Draco." The rich melancholy feminine voice was soft and deep emanated from the other end of the room, which was currently in darkness with only some flickering candle light bathing the space into an orange light.
Draco turned his face to see who was talking to him and to his utter surprise he saw a tall, pale lady with long black hair floating eerily about untamed, dressed in a floor length flowing emerald green robe. She instantly reminded him of somebody, somebody he knew well.
"I am Bloodwen Snape, child." She smirked when she saw the barely concealed surprise on Draco's face. "I am here to help you make a decision in a truly Slytherin way."
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The next morning found Hermione alone in bed again. A slight tugging emanating from the necklace made her quickly get up despite the predawn darkness. She hurriedly dressed in jeans and a brown jumper and ran down the stairs into the foyer with her hand clutching the pendant of the necklace. To her surprise Keira, the little girl ghost, was floating in mid air softly humming a haunting tune glancing towards the parlour.
When she obviously heard Hermione she turned around in mid-air so quickly that the momentum made her drift in the direction of the front door. She giggled and righted herself once again with a mischievous grin.
"Oops. Good morning, Hermione." She still had the same sad smile when they first met as she floated through the big hall all the time staring at the other girl. "I have been waiting for you for such a long time."
Stepping into the living room scanning the scene Hermione impatiently enquired "Where is Severus?" The parlour was deserted but strangely the necklace radiated peace now that she was here. "Have you triggered the necklace?" She stepped back into the hallway staring at the petite spirit. Keira nodded and looked almost proud.
"Yes, I don't even know how I did it but I have to show you something." She giggled once again and pointed at a huge wardrobe. "Can you move this?"
Hermione took one look at the heavy wood and shook her head thinking about Harry's experiences with letters from Mafalda Hopkirk. "No. But why would I move a wardrobe? What's behind it?" Suspicion creeping into her voice, "Ghosts are not be trusted, remember?"
Keira grinning in delight stated in a lyrical voice, "Something to understand the past, Hermione Snape. Behind that wardrobe are loads of answers to understanding your new family."
Hermione sighed and stared at the wardrobe in speculation and a bit of mistrust. She clearly couldn't move this wardrobe on her own but possible with Harry and Ron's help. Hemione's Gryffindor curiosity getting the better of her, "But what could be behind it that leads to answers in the past, answer you need?" Slowly she stepped towards the wardrobe and then it hit her. Keira had said yesterday that Severus had hid under the stairs when his parents were arguing and behind this wall was his secret hiding place.
She looked in disappointment noticing Keira disappeared. She took one last look at the stately wardrobe and then jolted up the stairs.
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"I can't believe I am moving this damn heavy wardrobe in Snape Manor at some bloody awful hour in the morning. Honestly Hermione, what is supposed to be behind this monstrous thing? I hope its a fortune and not another cache of Snape's arts collections." Ron sighed gripping and shoving the huge piece of furniture once again. His face red and sweaty, and clearly not happy with the task. "Ready Neville, alright now, heave ho!"
Neville looked uneasy not trusting the wardrobe not to eat him, but nodded bravely. Trying again, the two pushing and pulling with all their might the heavy furniture moved enough to expose a small wooden pocket door.
" Oh Merlin! This looks a bit like the place Harry had to live in at his muggle aunt and uncle, doesn't it?" Ron stepped next to Hermione and stared at the door. "I wonder where Harry is. I mean he shouldn't be wandering around this spooky house alone."
Hermione raised one brow. "He is probably just sitting somewhere and thinking. Ginny is looking for him and I have absolutely no doubt that he is perfectly safe in the manor."
Ron shrugged. "Yes, but you are biased."
His friend sighed, exasperated, "I wish you would just grow up Ron. He is on our side, he is a member of the Order after all," she added softly just above a whisper, "and I happen to love him."
"I have grown up Hermione or I would not have accepted so many things without - killing him." responding shortly.
"Then what is your problem?" Hermione asking angrily. "All you have been doing since last summer is whining and complaining about everything regarding him."
Ron's face began turning purple, the blush starting behind his ears and instantly his expression shifting to one of defiance. "That's none of your business Hermione Gra-!" snapping his mouth shut. "I think I need some fresh air as well! Come on Neville, we'll go and have a look for Harry ourselves!"
With that he turned around and stormed out of the parlour towards the kitchen to access the garden from there. Neville looked at Hermione uncomfortably clearly uncertain what to do.
"Go on then!" she ordered, "Somebody has to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."
In a split second, Neville was gone and Hermione was left alone in the slowly brightening room, staring intensely at the small pocket door as if waiting for an explanation. But as usual none was offered. She sighed moving closer towards the old wooden door with wear marks made by small fingers on its right side. The entrance was very small, barely over four feet tall, and even Hermione had to bend down to go through it. It was hard to imagine someone of Severus' height feeling comfortable in the room behind the door if the ceiling was that low. "Merlin, how young was he whenno. What happened to him when he could no longer hide"
One last look at the door and she extended her hand and carefully set her hands on the tiny wear marks slowly sliding open the barrier hiding the secrets she so desperately wanted to know.
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The early morning sun created bizarre shadows in the gardens of Snape Manor as Harry trotted through the high hedges trying to find his way out of this maze. When he ran from the kitchens he had not paid any attention on where he was going or in which direction he was heading and now he had to admit he was stuck. Lost in a maze that so far was not attacking him or doing anything else to harm him. He wouldn't put it beyond the Snape family that these hedges were hexed and that in a couple of minutes a boggart would attack him, just like the maze during the Triwizards tournament.
An evil voice whispered in Harry's mind, like so many times over the last summer, that he had been obviously not good enough to save Sirius from being killed. He instantly tried to banish these thoughts but they persisted.
Sighing, he quickly contemplated trying another spell to get himself out of this maze but so far the others had failed, reinforcing his theory that spells were an integral part of the maze. Turning another corner he entered into a wide circular clearing located in the centre of the maze. It looked like a park. Situated in the centre of it all stood a circular, colonnaded ancient looking structure in the classic style. Illuminated within by the soft orange light of an enchanted flame, it bathed the whole area around it in warmth.
Very slowly Harry crept around the small cedars that dotted the lawn, getting closer to the open rotunda. To his utter surprise he saw that inside, the dome was filled with enchanted candles. Small stone benches rose from the floor just inside the columns.
Snape sat on one of the benches leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped in silent contemplation. Opposite from him a translucent figure floated inside the enchanted flame, her silver white hair done into a complicated pattern on the back of her head. She was dressed in a white shroud and her face was moved into a sympathetic expression.
"Severus, I know it may seem impossible but this young woman is so much more than you ever thought. Why would you doubt her now when I know you appreciate her and trust her with your life?" Her soulful voice was gentle as she carefully placed her shimmering hand an inch over the dark material covering the Potions Masters arms.
"It's not lack of trust as you very well know, Nana. I would trust her with the most complicated potion in a heart beat, but introducing her to the host of manor ghosts, I fear, would be overwhelming without any preparation." He sighed, his head slipping lower towards his knees. "You did not witness her mistreatment by the paintings. Slinky told me the morning after. He had to exchange them all with your Scottish highland paintings. How will our ancestors react if the paintings already showed that much cruel contempt?"
The woman, obviously Snape's grandmother, let out a sarcastic laugh, "I wouldn't worry about that, Severus. I already gave them a stern lecture and with one or two exceptions they are ready to give her a chance. Snape Manor needs a lady of the house and one day you will want to live with her here, won't you?" She stared into his unmoving and carefully neutral face. "Severus. Don't tell me you are honestly thinking about deserting the manor? Your home, the place you were born, my only home and haven these days? How could you even consider it?" Accusation rang heavy in her voice.
Snape sighed once again. "I don't have the best memories of this place as you very well know and right now my place is at Hogwarts. Maybe if the war is won, and Hermione has decided what she wants to do with her life, we may move here but I won't force this on her. Try to understand me, Nana!"
The woman floated some inches higher. "I do understand you my dear one, but she is already bonding to this house and the sooner she starts the better for her. You never saw how I struggled when your grandfather brought me here without any explanation and suddenly I had to be lady of the manor. You would do her more harm than good with keeping her too long from this place."
Snape nodded slowly. "I will think about it, Nana."
The ghost, obviously satisfied floated back to the flame and Harry standing hidden in the shadows of the yews decided to return to the maze to think about what he had heard. The moment he moved he heard the ghost's voice wafting outward.
"However what I can't understand my dear grandson is that so far you have not deemed it appropriate to introduce me to the most famous boy in the wizarding world. Why, pray tell me, have I never met Harry Potter until this morning?"
Harry froze in his steps and turned slowly around. The woman was looking into his direction, her eyes twinkling with barely suppressed amusement as her dark penetrating eyes bored themselves into Harry's emerald ones, only conveying understanding. Snape still looking at the ghost not seeing Potter, sneered.
"Of course, the boy who lived!" he clipped sitting straight up. "How could I have forgotten to show him the most sacred place on this estate. Honestly Nana, I thought you know how I feel about this little show-off!"
"He is not a show-off and you do him great injustice by holding a grudge against somebody who is no longer alive and who meant so much to the boy. Additionally I would suggest not let him wander through the damn maze next time if you do not want to have him stumble onto my home these days." She smiled warmly. "Welcome to the rotunda, Harry. I am most pleased to finally meet you my dear boy."
Snape's head snapped into Harry direction and lines of annoyance showed deeply on his face. "What are you doing here, Potter?"
His grandmother floated to the boy and blocked Harry's view of Snapes rolling eyes. "Ignore him when he is like that Harry. Unfortunately I could never teach him the finer arts of social interaction due to my demise early in his life. Hopefully Hermione can get my grandson to become less of a ill mannered hermit." Her smile was so genuine and heart felt that Harry's mouth stretched into the first honest smile since last summer. "That's better my boy. Why don't you sit down a bit and we can talk some about how you like this manor and Hogwarts. I have not seen the school for a while. Is the Bloody Baron still as grumpy as he was when I attended the school?"
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B/N Beta notes: Dear readers please blame me partially for the slow updates. I tell Snapesgirl that college and health comes first, so beat me up I'm tough. It sometimes takes us over 4 weeks to get an update out.
A/Ns The imagery of the Slytherin common room using basalt was inspired by a story called Fracture Mechanics, a brilliant one shot incorporating mineral themes. Most of the ideas for the Serpent's den were added by the lovely droxy, my trusted beta.
Next chapter will have some HG/SS kissing and some more Ginny action. We are getting closer to the final battle, folks. Please be patient with me, my new college semester started a week ago and it may take me some time to get a new chapter up. But real life and my education are the top priority in my life.
Thanks for the reviews in the last weeks and be sure, this story will be finished but not all story threads will be ended. Please read and review, even if its only to say you are reading the story.
Wow, this note was almost longer than the chapter ;)
~ Snapesgirl
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