Minister Fudge sat at his desk, reading the papers he'd been given before signing the appropriate ones. They were the usual type of paperwork for a man in his position and he almost regretted having this job.
It didn't last long.
A knock on the door and he called out, "Enter!"
"Minister Fudge," the woman greeted him. She was a tall, plump woman with dark gray hair cut short. Eyes the color of molasses coolly stared down at him, giving no indication as to her true thoughts about him.
"Arpai," he nodded. "What news?"
"We've seen no sigh of Sirius Black," she told him. "But there was some kind of disturbance at Hogwarts yesterday."
"So?" he asked. "There are many disturbances at Hogwarts. Headmaster Dumbledore keeps reminding me that it is a school full of high spirited children."
Her full lips compressed but she refrained from glaring at him. "Be that as it may, I doubt that the children brought in a bear trap. One was found in the Forbidden Forest yesterday by a Professor Snape." She elaborated, noting that some interest finally entered the minister's eyes. "The professor has also acquired a dog. This dog was found in the trap."
"Meaning?" he asked. Knowing that there had to be a point to this dog reference, though it seemed to be taking a while to get to it.
"We have come across a notation that Sirius Black is an unregistered animagus," she said.
"Really?" Now, the interest turned into sharp hunger. A hunger for the acclaim he would receive upon the recapture of Sirius Black.
"Indeed," she said. "It appears that he is a dog."
"Any way we can connect Professor Snape with the escape of Black?" he asked. That was another man he wanted hidden away from the public eye. Severus Snape had eluded his grasp once before, helped by Dumbledore's word that he had always been on their side.
Spy or not, the facts were clear. Severus Snape was a Death Eater. If he could prove that he had helped Black escape from Azkaban, he could get them both locked away. And guarantee a re-election.
She shook her head. "Sorry, sir. All sources prove the deep and abiding hatred that exists between Black and Snape. In fact, back in their fifth year, Black almost killed Snape."
"How?"
"A boating accident while gathering ingredients for a potion," she replied, her notes. "The class was separated out into groups of four, two Slytherins and two Gryffindors in every team. Professor Snape had never gotten along with Sirius Black or any of his friends. He found himself on a team with Black and another friend, a Professor Lupin. A very bad combination, I'm sure you will agree."
"Obviously," he murmured. "What happened?"
"When asked, Black claimed that the boat tipped over," she said. "Both Snape and Lupin nearly drowned. Headmaster Dumbledore rescued both of them."
Fudge let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. "I'll go to Hogwarts tomorrow and talk to Headmaster Dumbledore, find out what I can. If the dog is Black, the Headmaster will know. Thank you, Arpai. You may go home now."
She nodded and left him alone. Will he tell you? she mused once the door had closed behind her. Personally, she doubted the Minister would find out what he wanted to know. Publicly, she would support his decision and not allow any dissention.
777
"The third door down this hall is Professor Snape's," Draco informed them.
"That will be all," the leader of the trio dismissed him.
Nodding, he left. A part of him felt he should run ahead of the group and warn his professor about them. Yet he knew instinctively that he'd never make it.
That trio would strike him down before he got more than a step in front of them.
"And Malfoy, do not tell your father." The voice followed him down the hall.
The young Slytherin shivered hearing it.
"You have had your second warning."
Stopping, he turned to face the strange eyes. They looked right through him, piercing him.
"I only give two warnings-and only because I have been ordered to do so."
Swallowing audibly, he nodded and ran down the hall.
"I'm impressed," another voice spoke approvingly. It was the first time any of the other companions spoke and it chilled Draco to hear the voice. At least the leader's voice was somewhat friendly. This one sounded as though Hell would be too cold for him. "I didn't think you had it in you anymore."
A slow smile crawled its way across the inhuman face. Whether because of the compliment or the satisfactory reaction from Draco, it didn't matter in the end. That smile was spoke volumes on its own. "Just because I chose not speak so, does not mean that I have forgotten how to." It was slightly reproachful.
Approaching the door, the being rested its palm across it before swiping it hard and deep across the grain.
777
Severus entered her quarters and sat on the chair by the fireplace, ignoring the dog for the moment. Rubbing a hand over her face, she sighed and relaxed back into the cushions. The day had been a complete waste as far as she was concerned.
And that ridiculous idea he spouted about Potter's power had not improved her mood any.
The dog watched warily from his place on the cot across from the chair. This was the first moment he had had to observe his savior. What he saw puzzled him. There was a strange sense of odd magic about Snape.
An older, more ancient magic than he'd ever felt before. Deadly and beautiful at the same time, and he shivered to feel it.
After a moment, the professor leaned forward and, placing her hands on her legs, pushed herself up. Walking over to the cupboard, she withdrew a vial. "Time for your medicine, dog. I suppose I should name you seeing as how you'll be here for a while. What name do you want?"
The dog seemed to grimace, though he accepted the offered medicine, not really listening to the professor's mutterings. Though he did acknowledge the question of name, he was not planning to stay long enough to become comfortable with this person.
He could not deny his curiosity about the room, though.
Curious eyes looked about the room, taking in everything at a glance and making a few judgments about the person who lived there. Whether it was the medicine or the false sense of safety, the dog had lost much of his wariness when it came to Snape.
A definite Spartan feel existed in the furniture and color, all angles and harsh lines. Only the necessities were kept, while anything deemed extraneous was done away with. The room was empty of a sense of life; it lacked that certain warmth that breathed of pleasure.
It seemed rather sad to the animal who had been expecting something more. May be not color or family portraits, but some creature comforts at the very least. What it said was that his benefactor was a single minded, independent person who found little joy in life.
How could anyone live like this?
A scratch at the door caught Snape's ear and she turned, puzzled. "Who is it?"
"Abhorsen. Let me in."
The dark eyes widened and she gestured something the dog didn't quite catch. But the door opened and three animals entered the room. The white cat walked with royal tread that was matched by the black cat. Behind them, a waist high, fierce, and ugly looking dog followed.
"Mogget, what brings you here? And addressing me thusly?" Severus asked. The huge dog stopped, his thumping tail demanding her attention. "Hello, Disreputable Dog. How be ye?"
"I be vera well. How be ye?"
"Bin better," she shrugged. "How are you, Kerrigor?"
The black cat sniffed in her general direction and waltzed over to the couch, jumping up onto the cushion disdainfully. He then proceeded to clean his paws and dismissed them from mind entirely.
Turning to Mogget, she raised an eyebrow in query. The white cat looked back at her, ignoring the question and stared at the bandaged dog. "What is he doing here?"
"The dog? He was injured by a trap in the forest," Severus answered, confused. "Hagrid would've taken him in but feared that Fang would not allow him to heal."
The cat sniffed, "that is Sirius Black."
Severus leaped away from the dog and removed her wand, training it on him. "Black," she hissed, voice alive with hatred. "What game are you playing now?"
Knowing that the charade was over even before it had truly begun, he made the difficult transition from dog to man. Because of his wounds, it was a difficult change but he managed to pull it off. "Snape," he greeted warily.
Speaking the name unleashed many of his locked memories, chiefly those in regards to this person. Black eyes narrowed in remembered hatred and he glared.
A glare that was turned upon him with an equal amount of revulsion.
"Black," the reply was as cold as his had been.
