Title: Astray
By: Melusina
Category: angst
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Many thanks again to my beta Mairi. She checked this story for me. If you find any remaining blunders, blame me for them...
Summary The ultimate answer to the question whether Snape is straight or gay: he is both. But he's not bi. Must be magic - but it's not.
Astray
Part One - Transition
It was a bright, sunny and beautiful day when Michael Carey walked the long path along Loch Ossian. His big, black dog ran around him and was almost continually half a mile ahead of him. Michael walked in a brisk pace and thoroughly enjoyed his surroundings. He rarely came this far. The land around Loch Ossian was somehow covered in darkness. Legend had it that there were ghosts around the shores. Michael didn't believe this, but he always felt the somewhat gloomy atmosphere around there. But the lake itself was lovely. Usually when he got closer to it, Michael was reminded of the warm comfort at home and started to long for a hot cup of chocolate.
But not so today. He was too upset to mind the gloominess of the atmosphere. He wanted to have this lonely exercise to think. In the last two years after the death of his wife, he had somehow got used to the loneliness. His job as a veterinarian assured him of daily contact with the local farmers, and he often enjoyed their warm hospitality. But it wasn't enough. The nightmares that had started about two years ago increasingly haunted his dreams. The most disturbing thing was their apparent inner coherency. Often, the same people returned in it, names were screamed; men, women and children were slaughtered in a mysterious manner. And everything seemed to be covered with darkness and despair.
At first, Michael had thought that these dreams were his way of dealing with his wife's death, but he was no longer very sure of that. He would still have shrugged it off, but now he began to dream almost twice or thrice a week. He wanted to find if there were more recurring elements in it, that might give him a clue what it was all about.
For a long time he walked along the shores of the lake. It was as if his surroundings gradually adapted themselves to his memories. Although the sun still shone and the weather was as bright as ever, he shivered. He was forcibly reminded of the warm comfortableness of his own home. He suddenly recalled that he had a letter to his sister left unfinished on his desk. Since it was far too long that he had been writing to her anyway, he suddenly felt so guilty, that he had almost turned around to go home.
Once or twice he thought he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye, a man or a large animal moving. But when he turned his head, there was nothing. Once he thought he saw a movement in the water, as if a very large fish had stuck its head out. Yet the water seemed very still. But he was determined to go on and his dog, Jack, seemed to be unaware of anything unusual. He knew he would not easily reach the decision to systematically go through his dreams again. Looking up, he saw the old ruin at the far end of the lake. He had come quite close to it. He decided to climb it and to sit down on the top of it to think.
As he walked on, he slowly became confused. It was as if the air in front of him was moving. As if it was very hot. Michael blinked, not quite believing what he saw in front of him. The ruin seemed to change slightly, appearing larger than Michael had thought it would be. Hesitatingly he went on. The dust under his feet seemed to take strange, indefinable forms. It was as if a visible wind was surrounding him for a moment. For a moment he was threatened to be overtaken by blind panic, visited by unfamiliar but haunting figures. Creatures fit to haunt his nightmares dancing in front of his eyes. Then he blinked again and the world around him changed entirely.
He shook his head, feeling dizzy for a moment, not believing what was in front of him. A large castle with an innumerable number of towers and lots and lots of windows was standing near the lake. A large gateway, made of black iron, appeared in front of him, preventing his moving on. With a slightly shaking hand, he pushed against it, and it opened.
He moved on and rubbed his eyes to be certain that he wasn't dreaming again. The strangest thing was that the castle didn't look unfamiliar, although he was sure he had never seen it before. Shaking and a bit dizzy he went on until the sound of a voice startled him.
By: Melusina
Category: angst
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Many thanks again to my beta Mairi. She checked this story for me. If you find any remaining blunders, blame me for them...
Summary The ultimate answer to the question whether Snape is straight or gay: he is both. But he's not bi. Must be magic - but it's not.
Astray
Part One - Transition
It was a bright, sunny and beautiful day when Michael Carey walked the long path along Loch Ossian. His big, black dog ran around him and was almost continually half a mile ahead of him. Michael walked in a brisk pace and thoroughly enjoyed his surroundings. He rarely came this far. The land around Loch Ossian was somehow covered in darkness. Legend had it that there were ghosts around the shores. Michael didn't believe this, but he always felt the somewhat gloomy atmosphere around there. But the lake itself was lovely. Usually when he got closer to it, Michael was reminded of the warm comfort at home and started to long for a hot cup of chocolate.
But not so today. He was too upset to mind the gloominess of the atmosphere. He wanted to have this lonely exercise to think. In the last two years after the death of his wife, he had somehow got used to the loneliness. His job as a veterinarian assured him of daily contact with the local farmers, and he often enjoyed their warm hospitality. But it wasn't enough. The nightmares that had started about two years ago increasingly haunted his dreams. The most disturbing thing was their apparent inner coherency. Often, the same people returned in it, names were screamed; men, women and children were slaughtered in a mysterious manner. And everything seemed to be covered with darkness and despair.
At first, Michael had thought that these dreams were his way of dealing with his wife's death, but he was no longer very sure of that. He would still have shrugged it off, but now he began to dream almost twice or thrice a week. He wanted to find if there were more recurring elements in it, that might give him a clue what it was all about.
For a long time he walked along the shores of the lake. It was as if his surroundings gradually adapted themselves to his memories. Although the sun still shone and the weather was as bright as ever, he shivered. He was forcibly reminded of the warm comfortableness of his own home. He suddenly recalled that he had a letter to his sister left unfinished on his desk. Since it was far too long that he had been writing to her anyway, he suddenly felt so guilty, that he had almost turned around to go home.
Once or twice he thought he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye, a man or a large animal moving. But when he turned his head, there was nothing. Once he thought he saw a movement in the water, as if a very large fish had stuck its head out. Yet the water seemed very still. But he was determined to go on and his dog, Jack, seemed to be unaware of anything unusual. He knew he would not easily reach the decision to systematically go through his dreams again. Looking up, he saw the old ruin at the far end of the lake. He had come quite close to it. He decided to climb it and to sit down on the top of it to think.
As he walked on, he slowly became confused. It was as if the air in front of him was moving. As if it was very hot. Michael blinked, not quite believing what he saw in front of him. The ruin seemed to change slightly, appearing larger than Michael had thought it would be. Hesitatingly he went on. The dust under his feet seemed to take strange, indefinable forms. It was as if a visible wind was surrounding him for a moment. For a moment he was threatened to be overtaken by blind panic, visited by unfamiliar but haunting figures. Creatures fit to haunt his nightmares dancing in front of his eyes. Then he blinked again and the world around him changed entirely.
He shook his head, feeling dizzy for a moment, not believing what was in front of him. A large castle with an innumerable number of towers and lots and lots of windows was standing near the lake. A large gateway, made of black iron, appeared in front of him, preventing his moving on. With a slightly shaking hand, he pushed against it, and it opened.
He moved on and rubbed his eyes to be certain that he wasn't dreaming again. The strangest thing was that the castle didn't look unfamiliar, although he was sure he had never seen it before. Shaking and a bit dizzy he went on until the sound of a voice startled him.