A bit of light reading for Halloween. MWPP-Era.
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JK Rowlings. This bit of fluff would not be possible without them! :-)
The Light of the New Moon
By the light of the full moon, the Forbidden Forest could prove deadly. Werewolves roamed its trackless acres. But when the new moon ruled the night, though dark, the forest was safe enough. Severus Snape shifted his satchel on his shoulder and opened the great door that led from Hogwarts to the grounds beyond. A bitter chill snapped his bones as he started down the stairs. If this trip to the forest hadn't been for his NEWT level potions class, he would have turned around and went back to bed.
But he needed the bayberries. And they had to be gathered by the light of the new moon. Hmph, he thought, some authors thought they were so clever. The night sky above him did indeed host a new moon; as dark as the ebony night around it.
Snape hurried down the frosty lawn, his breath puffing out before him. As he neared the forest, a chill wind blasted his robes, slicing his bandy legs with icy teeth. He shivered, teeth beginning to chatter. A sharp, high giggle echoed through the darkness around him. Snape looked around uncertainly. The grounds were empty. Pull yourself together, he chided himself. He started off through the trees of the Forbidden Forest.
The deeper shadows of the trees engulfed him. "Lumos," he whispered, shining his wand at the trees. The light from the wand faded as he walked. Snape pulled up and looked at it. "Lumos," he hissed. The light returned for a moment, then faded away again. He tried a third time with the same results.
Snape looked around. It's impossible to see anything! He turned back around, ready to return to the school. No! I can't! I need those berries! And this is the last new moon of the term! The ghost of his father flitted behind his eyes, "I am not sending you another sickle! You ungrateful waste of skin! Wait until you get home!" Hands shaking from both anger and fear, Snape started through the enshrouding dark. Father won't buy me the pre-harvested bayberries. I have to get them tonight!
The forest grew quiet as he moved, night birds falling silent as he passed. Soon, the only sounds that remained were the wind sighing through the trees and his panting breaths. He had found the clump of bayberries earlier in the day and committed its location to memory. Now, it was just a matter of making his way through the trees until he reached them.
His hands soon brushed along the prickly brambles of the bayberry bushes. With a sigh, he removed his satchel and opened it. As he bent over, a sharp pain caught him across the back-side and sent him head first into the thorny bushes. Evil prickles lashed across his cheeks and forehead, tangled in his hair. High-pitched giggles filled the night.
Snape struggled to his feet, his robes tearing on the thorns of the bayberry bush. He glared into the darkness. It has to be that jumped-up Potter and his stooges! Anger seethed through him. Struggling out of the bush, he bent to retrieve his satchel. It was gone.
"Potter!" he hissed. "I know it's you! You will return my property!" There was no answer. Snape snapped a berry-laden branch from the bush and started back through the forest. "I'll be taking this up with the Headmaster, Potter!" he shouted into the darkness.
Snape stormed off towards the school. At the front door, he met Filch. "What are you doing out of bed!" Filch seethed.
"I have permission," Snape pulled the signed permission form from his pocket with a flourish. Filch read it, a sour grimace on his face. "But," Snape continued, "You will find Potter and his cohorts are out of their beds without permission. I'll wait here if you want to go check Gryffindor Tower, Sir." Filch eyed him cautiously.
"Yes, you wait here," he said at last. He turned and climbed the great staircase. Several minutes later he returned, bringing a great commotion with him. Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew in tow, clambering sleepily down the stairs.
Filch towered before him. "Is this your idea of a joke, Snape?! All four of them sound asleep in bed!"
"Don't fall for their deception, Sir!" Snape returned, glaring at Potter and Black each in turn. "They obviously used a secret passage to return to the dormitory before you and then pretended to be asleep! They were out in the forest! They stole my potions satchel!"
Potter yawned, "What are you going on about, Snivel?"
"I'd be afraid to touch anything of yours," Black sneered, returning the glare.
Fury coursed through him. He turned and threw open the door. There was his satchel, held out by two diaphanous hands. Snape looked up into two burning black eyes. The ghost smiled, his thin, pale lips parting. "You forgot this," it said in a wispy voice. Snape gaped. The pale boy handed him the satchel. He took it with numb hands. Then the ghost giggled, a high-pitched trill that filled the entry way, and faded away.
The End