A soft breeze drifted the clouds that hung over Hogwart's Castle, the serene scene giving little indication of the march towards war that took place behind its solid walls. A lone figure stood in the overhang of the large main door, clothed in a long black robe, a small flicker of light visible within a thin, pale hand.
"That's an awful Muggle habit," stated a distinctive male voice over the figure's shoulder.
"So are snooping, too many sweets, and hair grease," retorted the dark-robbed figure, a light soprano laugh flowing out from behind the deep-set hood. The thin, spindly hand drew a stubby cigarette back up to under the hood, a curl of smoke spreading out into the autumn air. "That doesn't stop some here," the female-voiced figure continued after a pause.
"What do we owe your return to, Miss Baserette," continued Severus Snape as he stepped into the light, a contemplative glance towards the cloaked female in front of him. He scanned her over with his eyes, attempting to see what was visible from the dark covering of her black velvet robe. His searching however, was careful and considerate, never glancing higher than the figure's shoulders, out of respect or some latent fear.
"I think we know well enough, Severus...it is brewing, the Second War. Albus has asked me to enlighten the children of the more...interesting natures that might be at...his disposal." The figure's voice trailed off after a moment, the remnants of the cigarette falling from her pale, spindly fingers. After a moment, a small, high-heeled clad shoe ground it into the grass near the doorframe, and the figure tilted her cloaked head back to Snape.
"You believe it best...your place in this?" Snape inquired, in a slow, insinuating drawl.
"Ah...Severus, one of few with the ambition to still speak to me so but then being the trolley between the light and the darkness must leave you with a more girdered fear system. But...do I believe it best? No..the best thing would have been for Thomas to stay in his orphanage and become a banker, or a doctor not a necromancer bent on the destruction of those things he despises, because he cannot have them. Or, that Lockhart hadn't passed on that pointless and ridiculous book of his, full of folk tales, rumours, and nonsense," the female figure posed in the doorway replied with little emotion, her words flowing easily, and unlike most gave little hitch or pause when mentioning the Muggle-given name of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
"Still so lenient with what we call him?" inquired Snape, keeping his plodded distance between he and the woman in front of him. A hand moved out from his robe, running over his floppy black hair a moment, and finding its place back at his side.
"A rose by any other name...Severus. And I shall not be one who adds...to his one man propaganda campaign...by instilling fear and shakes from the highest levels of Wizardom by meer the mention of his name. I have not, do not, and will not fear him, in my...long aged eyes...he is like many who have come before him and many who will come after. Thomas believes himself unique, and inspiring, and worthy of admiration and/or fear...depending on your...views. Fear is nothing more than refusing to see the solution to a problem, or the blatant truth that lies in front of you." The figure waits for a moment, pausing in her long-winded speech to carefully choose her next words.
"Thomas seeks the road to immortality..." The woman stopped to laugh haughtily into the crisp morning air, her high but soothing trill floating through the empty hall. "He would find himself disappointed that it grows...tiresome at best, unbearable at worst in quite a short time. I believe he only needs a reminder of that. I am that reminder."
"The rest of your kind...do not agree with your decision to join us...do they?" asked Snape, his voice careful and quiet, the normal mocking tone he used towards pupils seeming lost entirely.
"The rest of mykind, as you put in delicately..Severus, have never understood anything I have done...from sleeping above ground, to not flaunting my condition. I am a child of dusk and dawn, Severus, but neither of morning or twilight. I belong everywhere, and yet nowhere. I am trusted neither by Muggle or Wizard, and yet on occasion needed by both. I have long stopped caring what the rest of my kindred believe. I retained what they lack a conscience, free-will and they dislike and deplore me for it. I'll leave them to their painless hell, for in the dark days to come, they'll likely find those two skills might be the most needed." A long, dead silence filled the conversation, only the rustle of leaves on nearby trees taking up the void.
"Quirrel he died for his efforts didn't he," inquired the well-covered female, for the first time tilting her hidden glance towards Snape, glancing him up and down, smiling wryly under her hood. Her eyes became visible as she stepped slightly from her perch, her pupils shining in the shadow under her hood. A sharp blue color, they would likely frighten the unsuspecting Muggle, they appeared like the flat calm of an endless sea, revealing little to no emotion.
Snape grew steadily more uncomfortable as the woman's roving eyes worked over him, his normally cool and smooth demeanor obviously lost on her. He shifted his weight back and forth, the swish of his robe cutting the air.
"Yes " Snape replied simply, dropping his gaze away from the glancing woman.
"Hmm was he still convinced I was going to find him? Hmm and smell like a mutton roast?" A light floating laugh drew out from the woman's cloaked form. She quirked an eyebrow underneath her robe at Snape, who continued to look nervous and wary.
"I'm no Death Eater Severus do I truly make you so nervous? I don't bite often." The robed woman laughed loudly, her voice echoing off the stone walls. As she tilted her head to address Snape with a smirk, two long pearlescent fangs. fell into view from the light shining under her deep hood. With a fluid movement, she stood next to Snape suddenly, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek, stepping back from him just as quickly. With a last wave towards Snape with her pale hand, she disappeared into the doorway, only the flutter of her robe announcing her departure, leaving the stunned Potions Master to blink slowly.