Lantern-like eyes
prowled the darkened hallways of Hogwarts. The eyes made their way to a patch
of moonlight; revealing a scrawny, dust colored cat. Mrs. Norris continued her trek
down into the labyrinthine bowels of stairs that led to the dungeons, her
whiskers twitching nervously. She reached the door of the Potion's classroom
and stopped, her tawny fur raising along her spine. She hissed and began to
scratch at the door, attempting to open it.
A moment later Filch appeared out of the shadows, his lantern aloft.
"Wot is it, my sweet?" he asked, as he reached down and ran his
ringer across the fur of her back. Mrs. Norris looked up at her owner and let
out a nervous mew. Filch raised one eyebrow and checked the handle of the door
to the Potion's classroom. It opened easily and without resistance. Filch
hesitated, momentarily, before calling out.
" Hullo? Anyone there?"
Only a chilling silence answered him. He swung forth his lantern, illuminating
a still form on the ground.
"Dear god.." he gasped as he dropped his lantern to the floor.
* * * * * * * * *
Dark.
Black waves of nothingness washed over Snape as he came into awareness. The
sounds of echoing laughter bounced around his brain. One. No, two voices.
Laughing. It was a minute before he realized he knew those voices. Malfoy and
Karkaroff. And then, there was the terrified screaming.
The woman struggled under Snape's wiry frame as he firmly clamped a hand over
her mouth with one hand and grasped both her wrists with the other. "What the
Hell?! What the Hell am I doing?" He struggled against what he knew he was
going to do. But his body wasn't obeying him any better than the woman. He
forced his eyes open. Forced himself to bear witness to his own darkness. It
was the least he could do.
The musky smell of sweat filled his nostrils, a strong overly-sweet dark odor.
The woman bit into the flesh of his hand. He pulled it away, allowing her a
small cry before fastening it securely around her throat.
He felt so lightheaded, so out of control. This couldn't be happening. He found
himself looking down on the scene as a passive observer; Karkaroff and Lucius
egged him on as if it were a hideously twisted spectator sport.
He watched horrified and helpless as his other self bashed the woman's head
against the stone floor. Her eyes lost their focus, but she did not stop her
terrified whimpering and sobbing. Again and again he watched himself do this
until a small pool of blood formed beneath her and her eyes rolled back in her
head.
"Christ, I've killed her!" His observer-self thought, beginning to
panic. Dizziness overcame him and he fell to the floor alongside the gruesome
scene. He looked on the dead woman fearfully, the acrid taste of acid churning
in his stomach bit into his throat. But suddenly, the woman's eyes flew open in
what seemed like a spray of molten gold. Gold eyes. He looked again at her and
realized it was the woman from the bar. The dancer from this past morning, or
was it in his future? He had lost all sense of time, he felt ill and longed for
the darkness that didn't come. And still the laughter, pervading everything. He
looked on the hideous masks Lucius and Karkaroff wore as the laughter behind
them seemed to amplify and rise in pitch and meld together into a single voice.
It raised the hairs on the back of his neck. That laugh. He looked again
on the masks as they blended into one. A tall gaunt wizard stood in their
places and, laughing, held out his wand and pointed it at the woman.
"Avada Kedavra!" The flash of green issued forth from his wand and mingled with
the gold of the woman's eyes as the pools of melted sunlight died out and
recessed into the visage of a rotting corpse.
* * * * * *
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
He bolted upright in bed, his body bathed in sweat, and immediately regretted
it. His entire body throbbed with pain, especially his head. Ye gods, he
thought to himself, what a nightmare.. Never, ever again would he mix alcohol
again... at least, not if one of them was absinthe. His eyes felt gummed shut,
so he tried to raise his hand to rub them clear. His yelped in pain as a
stabbing pain shot up his arm, and his eyes snapped open. Everything was fuzzy,
but he could plainly see he was no longer in the Potion's classroom. Severus
blinked a few times to clear his vision and tried to lift his head. He was
rewarded with a wave a nausea and a vaguely light-headed sensation. He took
several deep breaths, waiting for his stomach to calm down, when he heard
Madame Pomfrey whisper to one of her nurses.
"He's awake. Go fetch the headmaster. He'll want to speak with him."
Severus sighed and waited for the inevitable.