Chapter Twelve: Sinking
Severus sighed deeply. He felt like he was being suffocated in the presence of Albus' constant optimism. Nothing will fix this, you old fool, so just leave me be! He closed his eyes for a few seconds and grimaced slightly, feeling guilty for thinking such thoughts about his dearest friend. Yet, as much as he cared for Albus he just wanted to be left alone.
As if sensing Severus' thoughts were regarding him, Albus' smiling face came into Severus' view, as he handed the Potions Master a small chalkboard. Albus tapped the board with his wand and said, "I'm going to perform a lip-reading spell. Just relax and close your eyes." The words appeared written on the board in the headmaster's elegant script.
Severus frowned but did as his friend asked. He heard nothing, of course, but Albus must've cast the spell. He could feel a faint tingling in his eyes, almost an itching sensation. In his mind's eye he saw a river of letters passing by. His eyes began to feel warm and then he could see a faceless mouth rapidly speaking. I can't understand this at all; it's not working. He then felt a wave of dizziness and his eyes started to feel cooler. The mouth's movements gradually slowed and as if a switch was flipped Severus could suddenly understand what the mouth was saying. It was reciting the recipe for lemon drops. "Very droll, Albus," Severus said, opening his eyes.
"It worked then? What did you see?" Albus looked very pleased with himself as Severus explained.
Severus felt like a heavy weight was lying on his chest. He couldn't remember when he had felt so weary. "I'd like to be alone now, to get some rest."
Albus was crestfallen but tried not to let on. "Are you sure? I can clear my schedule and spend the day."
Severus chose his words carefully. "I would really prefer to be alone, Albus."
Albus again tried unsuccessfully to hide his disappointment. "I understand. I'll come by this afternoon. Maybe you'll let me beat you in a game of Wizard's Chess?" Severus simply closed his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.
Albus frowned and stared at Severus for a bit, deep in thought. He then stopped in Poppy's office. "I'm worried about Severus. I think he should have constant supervision."
Poppy stopped filing to peer at the headmaster, over her shoulder. "Are you sure, Albus?"
"I have a bad feeling. I haven't had a feeling like this since Severus' mother died and I'm sure you remember what happened then?"
Poppy blanched. "Oh dear. I'll have a house-elf keep an eye on him, maybe Dobby?"
Albus shook his head and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Severus cannot know he is being watched. I should think Dobby, kind though he is, is not best known for stealth, but what about Winky? Since she has stopped the butterbeer she has been an exemplary worker and can be very unobtrusive."
Poppy nodded. "I'll stay close as well."
They both stared at the floor for a moment lost in their own thoughts. "Be sure to contact me if anything changes." With that, Albus took his leave.
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Ron stood, staring intently at the Gryffindor portrait entrance. The password had been abruptly changed after he was captured and the fat lady was not about to let him in without it. Thankfully, a group of third years came upon him and gave him the new one. Entering, he quickly took the stairs, two at a time, up to his dorm. He was still clad in his pajamas since he hadn't wanted to spend another second waiting for his clothes to be sent to the hospital wing. Everyone must still be at breakfast. He marveled that he wasn't hungry but felt comfortably full. Snape actually fed my body! He showered, quickly changed, and was sitting on the edge of his bed tying his shoes when the door burst open admitting Harry.
Harry's eyes bulged. "Ron!" He ran over to his best friend and clapped him on the shoulder. Ron rubbed his shoulder moaning and exaggerating his movements. Horrified, Harry stammered. "I…I'm sorry, mate. I—"
Ron grinned wildly. "I was just winding you up! I'm fine!"
Flushing, Harry picked the pillow from his bed and threw it at him. The ready smile left his face almost as soon as it arrived. "How are you, really?"
Ron hadn't given it much thought. "I…I guess I'm okay."
"Where were you taken and who took you?" Harry asked, seating himself on his own bed directly across from Ron. The question was quickly pushed aside as the door opened again and the rest of their dorm mates came in, gathering their things for class. They stood around awkwardly for a bit making small talk until the bell rang signaling that it was time to get to classes. They slipped out again, one by one, until only Harry and Ron remained.
Ron wasn't sure how much he should tell. The two sat on their beds and stared at the floor. "You'll be late for class."
"It's History of Magic, Ron," said Harry smirking.
Ron was gathering up his courage to begin when the door opened again. "Bloody hell!" Hermione stood in the doorway. "Sorry, Hermione. I thought you were one of the guys."
Hermione could find no words to express what she felt at seeing Ron again. She ran up to him and enfolded him in a huge hug. "We tried to get in to see you, in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let us in." She drew back and looked into his eyes, concern for him shining in her eyes. "How are you?"
"I'm really… okay." He was just about to say more when the bell rang to signal that classes were starting. "Look, I don't want to keep you. You'll be late for class. You guys go on ahead and I'll talk to you later."
Harry snorted. "Hmm. Let's see." He held out one hand, palm up. "On the one hand we have History of Magic." He now held his other hand up the same way. "On the other hand, we have a story from Ron that we will never hear the likes of again." He pretended to ponder the question raising and lowering his hands as though holding imaginary weights. "What to do, what to do…"
"I'm staying right here," said Hermione matter-of-factly. The two boys faced her, mouths agape. "What?"
Harry found his voice first. "YOU'RE skipping a class?"
"I want to hear what Ron has to say. He needs our support right now. Some things are more important than a class," She didn't mention that she had already asked four classmates to take notes for her, that way she would have different versions of the class and would hopefully not miss anything too important.
Ron smiled and then took a deep breath, not sure of how much too tell and in what detail.
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"A chocolate frog card! I would've fallen for that one too, except maybe not from Snape." Harry said, after Ron finished his story leading up to the hospital wing.
"I've never heard of a vampire spider. Is that vampire with an 'I' or a 'Y'?" Hermione asked, making quick notes.
"I've no idea."
"Do go on and finish," prodded Harry, his emerald eyes shining with excitement. "You jumped Malfoy on the bridge? Did you get a good punch in for me?"
"I'm not sure. He was out when his mum pulled him out but he may've hit his head on a rock."
"How is Professor Snape?" Hermione asked. "It sounds like he was very brave when you were being held captive."
"He's…er…I'm not sure how much I should say."
"Is he dead?" asked Harry.
"No, it's just…it may take him some time to recover." Ron started to shake a little as he neared the part of the story that still haunted him. "When they brought us back to the hospital wing, there was—"
The door banged open causing the three to jump. In the doorway stood Molly Weasley, hands on hips. "Ronald? Why did you leave the hospital wing before talking with me?"
"Mum! I asked Madam Pomfrey to let me come here. I've been resting." Harry and Hermione quickly made excuses and left mother and son alone.
"Get your things."
"WHAT! Mum you can't pull me out of school!"
"What are you going on about? I want to get you to the family Healer to be checked out, then we'll come back. Poppy said that it wasn't a bad idea, since what happened to you was rather rare." What she didn't tell him was that she would be deciding whether he should come home for a time, depending on how he did on this outing. She knew her son had been through a great ordeal and she feared for him after his strange reaction to the ward invasion by those hairy little bastards. She needed in her heart to know that he would be all right.
"Oh…How're Fred and George?"
"They'll be fine. They'll be hanging around home for a few days while repairs are made to the back of the shop." Her view of 'the shop' had changed since owning a business had mellowed her sons. They were both now dating and Fred was close to getting engaged. "Well, let's get going, then. We can get the Floo in Hogsmeade to take us directly to Diagon Alley."
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The deep crimson flow tapered to a trickle and the stopped. The potion simmered, after the initial hissing at the addition of Lucius Malfoy's blood. Voldemort peered into the cauldron as he stirred it twice clockwise and twice anti-clockwise. He glanced at the broken blond's body, slumped in the corner. "Wormtail? Do not let him die. We may need more blood if this spell is not effective."
"Yes, Master." Wormtail skittered over to where Malfoy lay and began tending to him.
Voldemort reread the spell in the book as the potion simmered. "All is ready... Wormtail? I will need you for a moment. I wish you to assist me." The Dark Lord began the long scrying incantation then he took his wand and lightly touched the surface of the simmering dark liquid. The surface rippled and then a silver hue began to bubble up from the center, slowly spreading outward over the entire surface. Colors then appeared coalescing into images showing the representation of Draco, Narcissa and their house-elf. The edges of this picture were hazy and indistinct but centrally it was clear. Narcissa was reading a book and Draco was sleeping on a bunk near her. Fluttering in the background was the house-elf. Voldemort pushed his wand a little more firmly into the surface, the wand seeming to draw the silver fluid through its tip. He motioned to Wormtail, who held out a map. As Voldemort touched his wand to the map the thick liquid oozed out and began to quickly spread, weaving a fine network of lines that formed a clear path from Lucius (and therefore Voldemort) to Draco.
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Ron sat, perched on the edge of the examining table, trying to cover his body as much as he could with his hands. He reached for his pile of clothes.
"Ronald, leave it! You'll get dressed when the Healer says you can."
The door opened and Healer Masters entered. "Everything is fine, child. Just be careful you don't start to get a craving for human blood." He chuckled to himself.
Gaping, Ron forgot all about his clothes "Is that possible? Am I a vampire now?"
"It was a joke, lad. That's not how vampires are made. At least I don't think it is." He looked very seriously at Ron, and then his face broke into a smile. "Gotcha!"
Twenty minutes later Ron and Molly were walking in Diagon Alley. Molly was drawn to a new display in the second-hand shop. "Mum! I'm not going clothes shopping!" He crossed his arms over his chest and rose one eyebrow imperiously.
Molly was distinctly reminded of one Potions Master. "It's okay, dear. I'll go in alone. Why don't you have a rest at the café and I'll be along in a few minutes." She motioned to the café two doors down. "We can get some lunch before heading back."
Ron smirked at his mother's retreating form. He sauntered over to the café but then heard the most glorious music coming from a shop down the road. As he entered the shop he recognized the music. It was from Peer Gynt, the composer was Edvard Grieg. Closing his eyes, he felt almost euphoric as he allowed the music to transport him to another time, another place, and another life.
The elderly witch came from behind the counter. "Can I help you, young lad? We don't get many patrons your age, sad to say. Are you looking for anything in particular?"
Ron's eyes opened and he felt a bit lightheaded. Without thinking he replied, "Have you obtained Mozart's Violin Concerto Number Three in G major yet?"
She looked at him, slightly taken aback. "Have you been here before? You don't look familiar." She laughed, shaking her head. "Anyway, very good taste, dear boy. Let me see." She walked over to the stacks of records and gently began to search through them.
He closed his eyes, allowing Hall of the Mountain King to bring a smile to his lips, flooded with memories of an outing to see Peer Gynt performed by the London Symphony Orchestra.
"Ronald Weasley! Are you trying to scare the wits out of your old mother?" Molly had spied Ron through the glass and entered the shop in a huff. "What are you up to, young man?"
Ron felt very dizzy and grabbed the counter to steady himself. "Mother?" He shook his head and stood upright again. He looked around the unfamiliar shop. "What am I doing in here?"
"You asked about Mozart's Violin Concerto Number Three in G major, young man," replied the helpful proprietress, who had stopped looking for the album and was now looking strangely at Ron.
Ron was gobsmacked. "Huh? Who's what?" Who is this woman and how did I get in here?
Molly now stood beside her youngest son, gently rubbing his back. "Are you alright, dear? Perhaps we should go back to the Healer?"
Not that, anything but that! "Mum, I'm fine. I was just having a bit of fun, is all," he lied. How could I have lost time? It's like I wasn't here at all!
Molly wasn't convinced. "Are you sure, dear?"
"Yeah, I'm fit as a fiddle." He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Whoa. Maybe I'm just hungry. "I'm famished. Can we get lunch now?"
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Remus sat up in bed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of his lunch tray. The house-elf blushed and smiled as he thanked her profusely. He was still feeling rather tired but still much better than before. He watched the house-elf take Severus his tray. "It's quite excellent, Severus."
Severus sneered at the tray laid out before him. His stomach did a little flip and he clenched his teeth, swallowing. Bloody hell, is it already time to eat another meal? Even the smell of the food tugged uncomfortably at his gut. He glanced at Remus who was eating and reading the Daily Prophet. Lupin is eating like he hasn't seen food in weeks. He smirked, he probably hasn't. He watched the house-elf make her way back to the table and pick up her feather duster. He had watched her dust the entire room twice already. Winky cast a quick glance at him over her shoulder. He stared blankly at his tray. Poppy will have my head if I don't eat something. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Winky glance at him again. His brows furrowed. Surely the house-elf doesn't have a thing for me? She continued to dust the same spot on the top of the cabinet. What is wrong with her? She looked at him again, quickly glancing away when she saw that he caught her. She's acting like someone has told her to…NO!…damn him! I'm not a child and I will not be watched like one! Damnit! Who does he think he is? I won't stand for it! I won't! Hot anger coursed through his veins and he snorted, calling Winky over to him. "Take this tray back. I require my meat cooked thoroughly but not like shoe leather. I wish to have another tray and I need you to wait until it is ready, is that understood?" Winky gaped at him. "NOW!"
Winky's huge eyes glistened. "Yes, Professor Snape, sir." Taking the tray in her shaky hands, she softly popped out.
Remus didn't like what he was hearing. "Look, Severus, I know you're not feeling well, but don't take it out on the staff." He blushed; realizing that Severus had not heard a word he said.
Severus began to maneuver himself out of the bed. He was still very weak but his fury burned, infusing him with its energy. He took one step and then another. He took one look back and saw Remus gesturing wildly. He could not hear what the lycanthrope was saying but was concerned that if he kept carrying on like this he would alert Poppy and that would simply not do. He drew his wand. "Silencio!" Severus could not be sure if it worked or not, but by the surprised look on Remus' face it must have. Before pocketing his wand he transfigured his nightshirt to appear as simple black robes. He then continued slowly on his way to the dungeons.
It did not take him long to discover that his strength was failing him. The power in his legs was rapidly dwindling and he felt his muscles begin to quiver with exhaustion. I cannot stop here. Classes will let out soon. I must continue. He forced one foot in front of the other, the sheer force of his will and stubbornness allowing him to continue on. He had reached the staircase leading to the dungeons when a wave of dizziness overcame him. He stopped and put a hand to the wall, waiting for the spell to pass.
Severus could swear he was in Diagon Alley and that he was hearing the most beautiful music. Music! He walked swiftly to the shop he often frequented in Diagon Alley. There he saw the shopkeeper with whom he often carried out his music searches. He asked if Mozart's Violin Concerto Number Three in G major had yet arrived. She had been looking for it for him amongst Muggle shops in London. As she checked through her archive he heard someone call for Ronald Weasley from the doorway, then he felt as if he was being thrust forward, wrenched from the body.
The dizziness was tenfold as he felt himself return to his body. He teetered forward and down the stone stairs leading to the dungeon, falling first to his shoulder and then rolling sideways. The sudden jolt to his shoulder caused him to cry out in pain. At the first landing he hit the wall with a hard thud. Instead of stopping there, the wall opened, revealing a long since forgotten passage and his body was swallowed into it leaving no trace behind that he had been there at all.
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