Chapter 14 - Snape the intruded.
**********
Hangrid threw more wood on the fire. It was indeed and very cold night. The air stood frozen in the air, the fire thawing it out with smoke. Fang sat by it, his head on his master's feet. Hangrid had made himself a warm mug of strong tea and was enjoying it immensely, when he heard something outside. Hangrid sat up. No, he hadn't heard anything; he had felt something, a bit like a shift in the air.
Hangrid ignored it, and settled down in his chair again. Hangrid listened to the crackle of the fire. It was comforting on such a cold night.....
But then he heard something he couldn't ignore. It sounded like a hippogriff, but a few octaves higher and far raspier. He heard branches cracking underneath something, and the sound started again. Hangrid put down his hug quickly, and picking up his 'umbrella' on the way out, went to investigate the noise.
**********
The boy fell into a shallow river as he stumbled around in the dark. The things were after him. They wanted him dead. He picked himself up out of the sludge, his black hair dripping with dirty river water and waded through it as fast as he could. They were gaining on him. They screeched again, and turning around he gasped, but ran onwards, feeling in his pocket for a weapon.
They pursued him, concealing themselves in shadows as he ran, gasping for breath. The boy, covered in mud, twigs in his hair and his heart beating fast enough to kill any normal human, stumbled amongst the untidy tree roots and the occasional bones. The boy, his eyes full of fear tried to see in the dark, but to no avail. The moon only lit up shadows in an eerie blue, filling his heart with more fear. He hadn't got his night sight yet, and all he wanted was to get out of the forest.
As he passed a branch it cut him cruelly along his arm. The boy barely noticed it, even though it throbbed with pain, but the things that chassed him, as they passed in the light let out a loud shriek. They smelt blood. The boy quickened pace, forgetting about his blindness. He ran, his wet, dirty hair flying in the wind, his feet squelching the mud, getting into his canvas shoes. His clothes were caked in fresh mud, although some was drying on him now, but he ran, he ran in fear of his life.
As a shaft of moonlight hit the things they showed their true form. They were silvery white, like ghosts, but were covered in orange sores. Their heads looked like decaying sheep's heads, flesh hanging off them, eyes missing, replaced with maggots. Long cloaks covered their body, but their hands were like rusted stickles, their rancid teeth like decedent diamonds. They let out another scream and disappeared into shadow.
The boy ran, hoping that he would be saved. Then disaster struck. He fell over a tree stump that he hadn't seen and heard a crack. Pain blotted out by other pain, the boy barely noticed the blood running from his ankle, the twisted, mangled state of it, the cut going right up his leg. The things came closer, he could hear the wriggling of maggots and smelt the decaying of flesh and the rust and he felt the fear, fear hitting him, disabling him more than any wound could do.
The boy turned on his back, and sitting up, whipped his wand out and screamed, most likely because his life depended on it, "STUPIFY!"
He screwed his eyes shut and shouted again, hoping that against all odds that there was a chance he would live. He opened his eyes, suddenly acclimatised to the meagre light and saw that the things still rounded on him, their breath like a death rattle, and the sound of squirming larvae filling his ears. He swore he heard the soft sound of terror as they came closer. The spell had no effect. The boy, managing to stumble backwards shouted, "impervious!" and like a bolt of lightening the spell hit one of the things. But it had no effect.
The boy, terrified racked his brains for help as he dragged his body along the ground, trying to get help. In his state only one spell came to mind that might help get rid of these things. It was dangerous, nearly illegal, but he had to use it. He grabbed onto a tree and pulled himself up, practically leaning on it as if it were a crutch. Then, grabbing his wand in both hands he closed his eyes and with as much force as his weak body could muster he screamed hoarsely, "LEXURICHEIF!"
His eyelids burned with the warmth of the blue light, the things scream like a bird that died defending it's young, and then, like a sudden rainfall he felt warm blood fall all over his body. He opened his eyes. He was covered in warm, semi-translucent grey blood; long cloaks lay scattered on the floor like leaves, sheep skulls half buried. The boy, his heart palpitating, fell to the ground, and started to crawl, looking for a light.
*********
When Hangrid turned around he saw a deathly figure walking out of the Forbidden Forrest. It walked with a limp; it's left trouser leg torn and bloody. There was a glazed expression on its face, occasionally punctuated with pain. It staggered in a zigzag line, narrowing its eyes as it came close to the light of the hut. It was covered in grey goo, it's long black hair hanging in rat-tails, and it's blue eyes glassy and pained and it's face, bruised and bloodied. It staggered out of the forest, leaving a trail of mud behind it, it's clothes and skin virtually brown from the dirt. It was soaked to the skin, shivering, a truly pathetic site.
"Who's there!" shouted Hangrid.
The boy looked up and fell to his knees. A wild look in its eyes it tried to stumble back up, and after a third time of slipping in the mud it did, wincing every time he stood on his bad leg. He ran towards Hangrid and shouted, "Please, you've got to help me! They're after me! They're going after me, please, please, Hangrid? Hangrid, is that you? Please Hangrid, you've got to help me, get help! There could be more! Lots more!"
Hangrid grabbed the boy gently by the wrist and said, "Who are ye?"
"Hangrid?" asked the boy, his eyes full of incomprehension, "Hangrid, you've got to help me! They might attack the school to night!"
"What are 'they', and who in Merlin's name are you?" asked Hangrid.
The boy was about to speak again when he stopped, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water.
"Hangrid, this isn't a joke. I'm not mucking around....." He stopped, and looked at Hangrid who looked rather bemused. "You mean you really don't know?" he asked, his pale face going paper white.
Hangrid shook his head.
"Really?" he asked, panicking. Hangrid said nothing. The boy sighed and said, "What the hell happened to me?" he wiped his mud-encrusted hand over his dirty face and through his dirty wet hair, "I can't believe this....." the boy was quiet for a minute and said, "Could you please take me to Severus Snape please? Any of them?"
Hangrid gave him a suspicious look. "Who are ye?" he repeated.
The boy, trying to look as dignified as a person can when they are covered in blood, mud and are shivering from the cold wind in their drenched clothes replied, "Michael Snape."
*********
Snape was in Sev's mind; he was in a memory, a memory on the astronomy tower. He stood there, feeling the windless stale air on a winter night. Snape looked around. He didn't remember anything like this. He'd never snuck out after hour to the astronomy tower in his life? Why has his double here? Probably to meet Rya, he sneered to himself. He looked up into the sky, but then, he saw a figure sitting on the wall of the tower. He had long, black greasy hair, a large nose and a Slytherin uniform on, except for the red and green scarf he held in his hands, sighing. It was young Snape.
Snape went to grab him by the shoulder, but his hand when through the figure. The young Snape looked miserable. No, not miserable, he looked as if his world had crumbled around him and then had been burned to ash. He looked like a boy who had seen pain. The young Snape threw the scarf on the ground angrily, and then with a sound halfway between a sob and a scream he stood up on the wall, looking up into the sky. His face flickered with fear, but sighing again the boy whispered, his voice shaking slightly," There's nothing left to do now..... " Then, extending his arms like angel wings he fell forward, off the tower...
"PROTEGO!" screamed a voice. Snape was cast out of Sev's mind, falling the to floor. Then, both of them shouted at the same time "LEGIMENTS!"
Both wand streams met. There is a strange phenomenon when two of the same wands meet each other. And this is what happened when they fired the spell at each other. The two wands, vibrating, we connected with a burst of bright, gold light. Neither of them could have let go, even if they had wanted to. They both roared with anger, trying to make their wand stronger, but they couldn't. But neither would back down. They both held their wands, vibrating, hate in their hearts and determination in their eyes. They wanted each other dead. Everything around them, the whole building began to vibrate! Jars began to vibrate, looking as if they might exploded, books on the walls of Snape's room began to fall off the shelves, even Dumbledore looked slightly worried. There was a loud crash as chairs fell over, and a fizz as cauldrons began to melt around the room. Glass began to shatter as they continued, intent on seeing each other dead. Neither lost eye contact. This was a game of double or nothing. Either one of them would win, or neither would. As the large candelabra in the middle of the room broke, Sev looked up, and throwing himself to the floor broke the connection.
"What is it?" sneered Snape, "Scared?"
"Run you idiot!" shouted Sev. Dumbledore finally intervened. He grabbed Snape by his wand hand, and pulled him out the way just as the candelabra hit the floor, candles rolling everywhere.
There was an ear crushing silence as, for a good minute, Dumbledore standing as still as a statue, as if examining the air, Sev panting as he began to sit up, and Snape, burning with unspent fury.
"Something's changed." rasped Sev, holding his wand out as he got up, " Just now, something's just happened. "
"Stop being so stupid, " hissed Snape, "Nothings changed."
Dumbledore, who had for the last few minutes been listening said, "Severus, I believe your double is right."
"How can you tell?" asked Snape.
"Because I can hear Hangrid and a stranger walking down the hall. " answered Dumbledore simply.
Snape turned around. As he did a dark shadow appeared at the doorway. Hangrid stood in the entrance and said, "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snapes.....I've been asked by a young man to take him here. I never seed him before, and he seemed to know me, so I'm hoping you can throw some light on it." Hangrid ushered the boy in, still covered in mud, blood and ditchwater, and stood there, least anything should happen.
The boy grinned unhappily at Snape and said, "Hi, Dad."
Snape felt odd for a second. He might have described it as repulsion because he was glued to the spot, or fear because his blood ran cold, or even anger was he felt so much resentment in his body, but Snape had no way to describe how he felt as he stared at the boy. He had called him dad. He had been someone's father....he didn't know whether to correct the boy, or play along.
It was at this moment that Snape realised that the boy had been staring past him to Sev, standing behind him. Sev had stridden past and exclaimed, "Michael! What are you doing here, how did you get here, I wasn't told, Michael..."
"Dad!" exclaimed Michael, and without thinking the shaking boy ran towards Sev and Sev, without thinking, embraced him.
*********
Notes? You get them in songs, and in my stories.
1/ yeah, I had to get Michael into this somehow. So sue me? (Better not, because I can't afford it)
2/ The Morturie - yes, the same as everyone else's nightmares, but I think that they're just as creepy as dementors. More on them later, plus they are influenced by all hooded monsters (Tolkien, Rowling or otherwise) and the Magdalines in D101 (more on that MUCH, MUCH later!)
3/ Okay, explanations for why I always come up with weird spell names - I can't speak Latin, but I can speak the language of the aliens in this story (yes folks, it Does have a structure, and isn't just me hitting my head against the keyboard!) so I'm merely using the spell names they might use.
4/ Why does Michael act like he's in a 1920's film when he meets Hangrid? For the life of me I don't know! Any minute now Friz Lang is going to pop out of the works :) yes, I know it's a little wrong, but that's the best I can do at the moment. Please forgive me.
5/ At the start, when Snape the second came through, there was a shaking of everything, but where is it here? It happens at the same time as the two Snape's wands meet. Hence the fact that things start exploding. In GoF you will find that there were few effects to that sort of description when Harry and Voldermort duelled. They also don't fight long enough to find out who they killed. But a few, rather interesting flashbacks to my own time- line thing. I promise that I'll get around to writing them up! It's all to do with when they parted realities. (I.e., we know it couldn't have happened when Snape was eight, or when he was twenty, so it narrows it down a bit.)
6/ I know, cute ending. That will be made up for as well. :). This isn't my best chapter, but I hope you can stick with me.
Love and hugs -
Xandra the Blue.
**********
Hangrid threw more wood on the fire. It was indeed and very cold night. The air stood frozen in the air, the fire thawing it out with smoke. Fang sat by it, his head on his master's feet. Hangrid had made himself a warm mug of strong tea and was enjoying it immensely, when he heard something outside. Hangrid sat up. No, he hadn't heard anything; he had felt something, a bit like a shift in the air.
Hangrid ignored it, and settled down in his chair again. Hangrid listened to the crackle of the fire. It was comforting on such a cold night.....
But then he heard something he couldn't ignore. It sounded like a hippogriff, but a few octaves higher and far raspier. He heard branches cracking underneath something, and the sound started again. Hangrid put down his hug quickly, and picking up his 'umbrella' on the way out, went to investigate the noise.
**********
The boy fell into a shallow river as he stumbled around in the dark. The things were after him. They wanted him dead. He picked himself up out of the sludge, his black hair dripping with dirty river water and waded through it as fast as he could. They were gaining on him. They screeched again, and turning around he gasped, but ran onwards, feeling in his pocket for a weapon.
They pursued him, concealing themselves in shadows as he ran, gasping for breath. The boy, covered in mud, twigs in his hair and his heart beating fast enough to kill any normal human, stumbled amongst the untidy tree roots and the occasional bones. The boy, his eyes full of fear tried to see in the dark, but to no avail. The moon only lit up shadows in an eerie blue, filling his heart with more fear. He hadn't got his night sight yet, and all he wanted was to get out of the forest.
As he passed a branch it cut him cruelly along his arm. The boy barely noticed it, even though it throbbed with pain, but the things that chassed him, as they passed in the light let out a loud shriek. They smelt blood. The boy quickened pace, forgetting about his blindness. He ran, his wet, dirty hair flying in the wind, his feet squelching the mud, getting into his canvas shoes. His clothes were caked in fresh mud, although some was drying on him now, but he ran, he ran in fear of his life.
As a shaft of moonlight hit the things they showed their true form. They were silvery white, like ghosts, but were covered in orange sores. Their heads looked like decaying sheep's heads, flesh hanging off them, eyes missing, replaced with maggots. Long cloaks covered their body, but their hands were like rusted stickles, their rancid teeth like decedent diamonds. They let out another scream and disappeared into shadow.
The boy ran, hoping that he would be saved. Then disaster struck. He fell over a tree stump that he hadn't seen and heard a crack. Pain blotted out by other pain, the boy barely noticed the blood running from his ankle, the twisted, mangled state of it, the cut going right up his leg. The things came closer, he could hear the wriggling of maggots and smelt the decaying of flesh and the rust and he felt the fear, fear hitting him, disabling him more than any wound could do.
The boy turned on his back, and sitting up, whipped his wand out and screamed, most likely because his life depended on it, "STUPIFY!"
He screwed his eyes shut and shouted again, hoping that against all odds that there was a chance he would live. He opened his eyes, suddenly acclimatised to the meagre light and saw that the things still rounded on him, their breath like a death rattle, and the sound of squirming larvae filling his ears. He swore he heard the soft sound of terror as they came closer. The spell had no effect. The boy, managing to stumble backwards shouted, "impervious!" and like a bolt of lightening the spell hit one of the things. But it had no effect.
The boy, terrified racked his brains for help as he dragged his body along the ground, trying to get help. In his state only one spell came to mind that might help get rid of these things. It was dangerous, nearly illegal, but he had to use it. He grabbed onto a tree and pulled himself up, practically leaning on it as if it were a crutch. Then, grabbing his wand in both hands he closed his eyes and with as much force as his weak body could muster he screamed hoarsely, "LEXURICHEIF!"
His eyelids burned with the warmth of the blue light, the things scream like a bird that died defending it's young, and then, like a sudden rainfall he felt warm blood fall all over his body. He opened his eyes. He was covered in warm, semi-translucent grey blood; long cloaks lay scattered on the floor like leaves, sheep skulls half buried. The boy, his heart palpitating, fell to the ground, and started to crawl, looking for a light.
*********
When Hangrid turned around he saw a deathly figure walking out of the Forbidden Forrest. It walked with a limp; it's left trouser leg torn and bloody. There was a glazed expression on its face, occasionally punctuated with pain. It staggered in a zigzag line, narrowing its eyes as it came close to the light of the hut. It was covered in grey goo, it's long black hair hanging in rat-tails, and it's blue eyes glassy and pained and it's face, bruised and bloodied. It staggered out of the forest, leaving a trail of mud behind it, it's clothes and skin virtually brown from the dirt. It was soaked to the skin, shivering, a truly pathetic site.
"Who's there!" shouted Hangrid.
The boy looked up and fell to his knees. A wild look in its eyes it tried to stumble back up, and after a third time of slipping in the mud it did, wincing every time he stood on his bad leg. He ran towards Hangrid and shouted, "Please, you've got to help me! They're after me! They're going after me, please, please, Hangrid? Hangrid, is that you? Please Hangrid, you've got to help me, get help! There could be more! Lots more!"
Hangrid grabbed the boy gently by the wrist and said, "Who are ye?"
"Hangrid?" asked the boy, his eyes full of incomprehension, "Hangrid, you've got to help me! They might attack the school to night!"
"What are 'they', and who in Merlin's name are you?" asked Hangrid.
The boy was about to speak again when he stopped, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water.
"Hangrid, this isn't a joke. I'm not mucking around....." He stopped, and looked at Hangrid who looked rather bemused. "You mean you really don't know?" he asked, his pale face going paper white.
Hangrid shook his head.
"Really?" he asked, panicking. Hangrid said nothing. The boy sighed and said, "What the hell happened to me?" he wiped his mud-encrusted hand over his dirty face and through his dirty wet hair, "I can't believe this....." the boy was quiet for a minute and said, "Could you please take me to Severus Snape please? Any of them?"
Hangrid gave him a suspicious look. "Who are ye?" he repeated.
The boy, trying to look as dignified as a person can when they are covered in blood, mud and are shivering from the cold wind in their drenched clothes replied, "Michael Snape."
*********
Snape was in Sev's mind; he was in a memory, a memory on the astronomy tower. He stood there, feeling the windless stale air on a winter night. Snape looked around. He didn't remember anything like this. He'd never snuck out after hour to the astronomy tower in his life? Why has his double here? Probably to meet Rya, he sneered to himself. He looked up into the sky, but then, he saw a figure sitting on the wall of the tower. He had long, black greasy hair, a large nose and a Slytherin uniform on, except for the red and green scarf he held in his hands, sighing. It was young Snape.
Snape went to grab him by the shoulder, but his hand when through the figure. The young Snape looked miserable. No, not miserable, he looked as if his world had crumbled around him and then had been burned to ash. He looked like a boy who had seen pain. The young Snape threw the scarf on the ground angrily, and then with a sound halfway between a sob and a scream he stood up on the wall, looking up into the sky. His face flickered with fear, but sighing again the boy whispered, his voice shaking slightly," There's nothing left to do now..... " Then, extending his arms like angel wings he fell forward, off the tower...
"PROTEGO!" screamed a voice. Snape was cast out of Sev's mind, falling the to floor. Then, both of them shouted at the same time "LEGIMENTS!"
Both wand streams met. There is a strange phenomenon when two of the same wands meet each other. And this is what happened when they fired the spell at each other. The two wands, vibrating, we connected with a burst of bright, gold light. Neither of them could have let go, even if they had wanted to. They both roared with anger, trying to make their wand stronger, but they couldn't. But neither would back down. They both held their wands, vibrating, hate in their hearts and determination in their eyes. They wanted each other dead. Everything around them, the whole building began to vibrate! Jars began to vibrate, looking as if they might exploded, books on the walls of Snape's room began to fall off the shelves, even Dumbledore looked slightly worried. There was a loud crash as chairs fell over, and a fizz as cauldrons began to melt around the room. Glass began to shatter as they continued, intent on seeing each other dead. Neither lost eye contact. This was a game of double or nothing. Either one of them would win, or neither would. As the large candelabra in the middle of the room broke, Sev looked up, and throwing himself to the floor broke the connection.
"What is it?" sneered Snape, "Scared?"
"Run you idiot!" shouted Sev. Dumbledore finally intervened. He grabbed Snape by his wand hand, and pulled him out the way just as the candelabra hit the floor, candles rolling everywhere.
There was an ear crushing silence as, for a good minute, Dumbledore standing as still as a statue, as if examining the air, Sev panting as he began to sit up, and Snape, burning with unspent fury.
"Something's changed." rasped Sev, holding his wand out as he got up, " Just now, something's just happened. "
"Stop being so stupid, " hissed Snape, "Nothings changed."
Dumbledore, who had for the last few minutes been listening said, "Severus, I believe your double is right."
"How can you tell?" asked Snape.
"Because I can hear Hangrid and a stranger walking down the hall. " answered Dumbledore simply.
Snape turned around. As he did a dark shadow appeared at the doorway. Hangrid stood in the entrance and said, "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snapes.....I've been asked by a young man to take him here. I never seed him before, and he seemed to know me, so I'm hoping you can throw some light on it." Hangrid ushered the boy in, still covered in mud, blood and ditchwater, and stood there, least anything should happen.
The boy grinned unhappily at Snape and said, "Hi, Dad."
Snape felt odd for a second. He might have described it as repulsion because he was glued to the spot, or fear because his blood ran cold, or even anger was he felt so much resentment in his body, but Snape had no way to describe how he felt as he stared at the boy. He had called him dad. He had been someone's father....he didn't know whether to correct the boy, or play along.
It was at this moment that Snape realised that the boy had been staring past him to Sev, standing behind him. Sev had stridden past and exclaimed, "Michael! What are you doing here, how did you get here, I wasn't told, Michael..."
"Dad!" exclaimed Michael, and without thinking the shaking boy ran towards Sev and Sev, without thinking, embraced him.
*********
Notes? You get them in songs, and in my stories.
1/ yeah, I had to get Michael into this somehow. So sue me? (Better not, because I can't afford it)
2/ The Morturie - yes, the same as everyone else's nightmares, but I think that they're just as creepy as dementors. More on them later, plus they are influenced by all hooded monsters (Tolkien, Rowling or otherwise) and the Magdalines in D101 (more on that MUCH, MUCH later!)
3/ Okay, explanations for why I always come up with weird spell names - I can't speak Latin, but I can speak the language of the aliens in this story (yes folks, it Does have a structure, and isn't just me hitting my head against the keyboard!) so I'm merely using the spell names they might use.
4/ Why does Michael act like he's in a 1920's film when he meets Hangrid? For the life of me I don't know! Any minute now Friz Lang is going to pop out of the works :) yes, I know it's a little wrong, but that's the best I can do at the moment. Please forgive me.
5/ At the start, when Snape the second came through, there was a shaking of everything, but where is it here? It happens at the same time as the two Snape's wands meet. Hence the fact that things start exploding. In GoF you will find that there were few effects to that sort of description when Harry and Voldermort duelled. They also don't fight long enough to find out who they killed. But a few, rather interesting flashbacks to my own time- line thing. I promise that I'll get around to writing them up! It's all to do with when they parted realities. (I.e., we know it couldn't have happened when Snape was eight, or when he was twenty, so it narrows it down a bit.)
6/ I know, cute ending. That will be made up for as well. :). This isn't my best chapter, but I hope you can stick with me.
Love and hugs -
Xandra the Blue.