Author's Notes: We see the stress of life as a double agent beginning to
take its toll on our beloved Potions master. A short angsty chapter, with
a brief appearance of our mystery woman, Mira. (The story's just getting
started, many chapters ready to be posted, and a few still left to write.)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then it's in no way mine. (As Mira pats me on the hand and says: "There there dear, at least you've still got me.")
Chapter 4: Reminders of a past life.
The tavern was busy, but not as crowded as it usually was. People were edgy and sticking close to home in the evenings since the attacks had begun to intensify. Most of the customers were shopkeepers and other locals. The Hog's Head tavern attracted a less festive crowd. It was where the locals came to drink and where many of the town's shady characters gathered. It wasn't a family establishment like Rosemerta ran over at the Three Broomsticks. You wouldn't find a bottle of butterbeer anywhere in the Hog's Head. Snape looked around, recognized Hagrid and a couple of shopkeepers sitting at a table close to the fireplace. By the level of their laughter, it was obvious that they were not on their first drink of the evening. There were a few other townspeople gathered at some of the tables closest to the fire, but overall, the tavern was having a slow night. The door opened, and two men in dark robes slinked in and settled into a booth not more than ten feet from where Snape sat. He shifted in his seat, and increased his alertness. He recognized their voices instantly, newly inducted Death Eaters. They were former students of his. He was getting more and more concerned at just how young the new recruits to the service of the Dark Lord were. He wondered when there would be Death Eater students at Hogwarts to contend with. Not if, but when.
The men spoke furtively, in hushed voices, and looked up as a third dark cloaked man entered the tavern and crossed the room to join them. Snape took a sip of his ale and strained his ears to hear their conversation more clearly. The men were talking low, but Snape could distinctly make out something about a "major attack" and "putting the fear of Hell into those muggle loving bastards in the ministry". Something was definitely in the works, and from the sound of it, it was going to be big. Snape had not been ordered to participate in this attack by Voldemort, his reputation and status among the Death Eaters had been damaged when his loyalty was brought into question. He was only assigned the most minor and degrading of tasks after the summoning at which he met with his punishment. He shuddered at the memory of that night, and downed the rest of the mug of ale.
The jingle of the door chimes was followed by the sound of female laughter. Two women entered the tavern and took a table near the trio of Death Eaters. He recognized the voice, but it took a moment for him to place it. It was the woman from the tailor shop, but she was not in her usual muggle- ish attire. She had on a simple robe with embroidered trim and a little cap with matching embroidery. "At least she has the prudence to dress like a witch when she ventures outside of the tailor shop." He thought. Flaunting muggle attire was asking for trouble these days. Even the children wore more traditional wizarding clothing under their robes when not in their school uniforms. Nobody wanted to stand out as being affiliated with the muggles after the increase in attacks against muggle sympathizers and the muggle born. "Belle" was talking to a slightly younger blonde witch about the upcoming festival. They had shopping parcels with them, it was obvious that this was what the muggles call a "girls' night out". The barmaid came to their table and took their order, brandied tea for both. The women talked in a hushed voice, breaking into fits of giggles every now and again. The young Death Eaters had stopped talking to each other and were eavesdropping on the two women. One of them made a crude comment about having two women at once, and the one in the middle suggested lying in wait for them in the alleyway that ran along the side of the tavern and grabbing them when they passed by. The third described in graphic and gruesome detail what he would like to do to Belle's blonde friend, and how they would dispose of the women after taking their pleasure and having a little "fun" with them.
Snape felt his stomach tighten and a brief wave of panic shot through him as he remembered what some Death Eaters considered to be "a little fun". "No" he thought. He knew he would have to stop them, possibly take all three of them on in that alley at once. He remembered witnessing and even participating in such attacks on women in the past. He felt very dirty and foul for ever having been like those young men. But that was a lifetime in the past. He could only make amends for his past by his actions here and now. And if taking on these three young Death Eaters in an alley to protect two innocent women was what he had to do to make amends for his past, he was ready and willing.
The door swung open and a large wizard made his way through the room to join the women. He kissed Mirabelle's companion on the cheek and sat down and ordered a drink. He was obviously a husband or lover of the blonde witch. The novice Death Eaters decided that taking on two women and a large man in a dark alley was more risky than taking on only two women. They ditched their plan and got up and left the tavern. Snape breathed a sigh of relief and got up, tossed a few coins on the table to cover the cost of his drink, and followed them out the door. He lost them at the corner, where they apparated into the night. Confident that they would not return to harm Mirabelle and her companions, he walked back to the bridge, making sure he was not being followed, and removed a small silver matchbox from his pocket. It was a special portkey that would instantly transport him to the edge of the forest on the Hogwarts grounds, just behind Hagrid's hut. It was a very special exception to the Hogwarts security system that Dumbledore entrusted with him to assist him on his missions. He arrived unseen by human eyes, and made his way back into the castle and down into his chambers where he composed a quick note to Dumbledore regarding what he had overheard in the tavern. He summoned a house elf to deliver it, and fell across his bed, almost instantly into a deep but fitful sleep still in his trousers and shirt.
He dreamed about his days as one of the cruelest and most efficient Death Eaters to ever have served the Dark Lord. He relived his crimes in his dreams. The faces of his victims were blurred, but he could hear the screams of pain and terror, and smell the blood and sickly sweet smell of burning flesh. He learned very early on to block out their faces. "Block out their faces and they can't haunt you in your dreams" one senior Death Eater had advised him. But the man lied. His dreams were still haunted by the ghosts of the victims of his past life. Every time he took a human life or caused intense human suffering, he felt a little bit of himself die as well. Not his physical self, but his humanity. If he wound up giving his life in the fight against Voldemort, he still would not have come close to making amends for the suffering he had caused. The best he felt he could do was to hold on as long as possible and take as many other Death Eaters out with him when his time was finally up.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then it's in no way mine. (As Mira pats me on the hand and says: "There there dear, at least you've still got me.")
Chapter 4: Reminders of a past life.
The tavern was busy, but not as crowded as it usually was. People were edgy and sticking close to home in the evenings since the attacks had begun to intensify. Most of the customers were shopkeepers and other locals. The Hog's Head tavern attracted a less festive crowd. It was where the locals came to drink and where many of the town's shady characters gathered. It wasn't a family establishment like Rosemerta ran over at the Three Broomsticks. You wouldn't find a bottle of butterbeer anywhere in the Hog's Head. Snape looked around, recognized Hagrid and a couple of shopkeepers sitting at a table close to the fireplace. By the level of their laughter, it was obvious that they were not on their first drink of the evening. There were a few other townspeople gathered at some of the tables closest to the fire, but overall, the tavern was having a slow night. The door opened, and two men in dark robes slinked in and settled into a booth not more than ten feet from where Snape sat. He shifted in his seat, and increased his alertness. He recognized their voices instantly, newly inducted Death Eaters. They were former students of his. He was getting more and more concerned at just how young the new recruits to the service of the Dark Lord were. He wondered when there would be Death Eater students at Hogwarts to contend with. Not if, but when.
The men spoke furtively, in hushed voices, and looked up as a third dark cloaked man entered the tavern and crossed the room to join them. Snape took a sip of his ale and strained his ears to hear their conversation more clearly. The men were talking low, but Snape could distinctly make out something about a "major attack" and "putting the fear of Hell into those muggle loving bastards in the ministry". Something was definitely in the works, and from the sound of it, it was going to be big. Snape had not been ordered to participate in this attack by Voldemort, his reputation and status among the Death Eaters had been damaged when his loyalty was brought into question. He was only assigned the most minor and degrading of tasks after the summoning at which he met with his punishment. He shuddered at the memory of that night, and downed the rest of the mug of ale.
The jingle of the door chimes was followed by the sound of female laughter. Two women entered the tavern and took a table near the trio of Death Eaters. He recognized the voice, but it took a moment for him to place it. It was the woman from the tailor shop, but she was not in her usual muggle- ish attire. She had on a simple robe with embroidered trim and a little cap with matching embroidery. "At least she has the prudence to dress like a witch when she ventures outside of the tailor shop." He thought. Flaunting muggle attire was asking for trouble these days. Even the children wore more traditional wizarding clothing under their robes when not in their school uniforms. Nobody wanted to stand out as being affiliated with the muggles after the increase in attacks against muggle sympathizers and the muggle born. "Belle" was talking to a slightly younger blonde witch about the upcoming festival. They had shopping parcels with them, it was obvious that this was what the muggles call a "girls' night out". The barmaid came to their table and took their order, brandied tea for both. The women talked in a hushed voice, breaking into fits of giggles every now and again. The young Death Eaters had stopped talking to each other and were eavesdropping on the two women. One of them made a crude comment about having two women at once, and the one in the middle suggested lying in wait for them in the alleyway that ran along the side of the tavern and grabbing them when they passed by. The third described in graphic and gruesome detail what he would like to do to Belle's blonde friend, and how they would dispose of the women after taking their pleasure and having a little "fun" with them.
Snape felt his stomach tighten and a brief wave of panic shot through him as he remembered what some Death Eaters considered to be "a little fun". "No" he thought. He knew he would have to stop them, possibly take all three of them on in that alley at once. He remembered witnessing and even participating in such attacks on women in the past. He felt very dirty and foul for ever having been like those young men. But that was a lifetime in the past. He could only make amends for his past by his actions here and now. And if taking on these three young Death Eaters in an alley to protect two innocent women was what he had to do to make amends for his past, he was ready and willing.
The door swung open and a large wizard made his way through the room to join the women. He kissed Mirabelle's companion on the cheek and sat down and ordered a drink. He was obviously a husband or lover of the blonde witch. The novice Death Eaters decided that taking on two women and a large man in a dark alley was more risky than taking on only two women. They ditched their plan and got up and left the tavern. Snape breathed a sigh of relief and got up, tossed a few coins on the table to cover the cost of his drink, and followed them out the door. He lost them at the corner, where they apparated into the night. Confident that they would not return to harm Mirabelle and her companions, he walked back to the bridge, making sure he was not being followed, and removed a small silver matchbox from his pocket. It was a special portkey that would instantly transport him to the edge of the forest on the Hogwarts grounds, just behind Hagrid's hut. It was a very special exception to the Hogwarts security system that Dumbledore entrusted with him to assist him on his missions. He arrived unseen by human eyes, and made his way back into the castle and down into his chambers where he composed a quick note to Dumbledore regarding what he had overheard in the tavern. He summoned a house elf to deliver it, and fell across his bed, almost instantly into a deep but fitful sleep still in his trousers and shirt.
He dreamed about his days as one of the cruelest and most efficient Death Eaters to ever have served the Dark Lord. He relived his crimes in his dreams. The faces of his victims were blurred, but he could hear the screams of pain and terror, and smell the blood and sickly sweet smell of burning flesh. He learned very early on to block out their faces. "Block out their faces and they can't haunt you in your dreams" one senior Death Eater had advised him. But the man lied. His dreams were still haunted by the ghosts of the victims of his past life. Every time he took a human life or caused intense human suffering, he felt a little bit of himself die as well. Not his physical self, but his humanity. If he wound up giving his life in the fight against Voldemort, he still would not have come close to making amends for the suffering he had caused. The best he felt he could do was to hold on as long as possible and take as many other Death Eaters out with him when his time was finally up.