Author's notes: If you're a MWPP fan, just remember whose PoV this is ;)
No, the little owl in the Owlery is not Pig.
I want to thank my readers for leaving constructive criticism. They've helped me with ideas for this rewritten and revised version of my fic. Chapters 1-3 have been severely changed. Harry, Ron and Neville are no longer in Ancient Runes.
The chapters fit canon now and have been changed to account for that. Please either try to forget that they were ever in Runes, or read the chapters again ;)
Beta-reader appreciation: A special thanks to the wonderful Splatt. I couldn't have gotten better beta-reader. Thank you so much for helping me with this chapter – I know it was a terrible challenge. Thanks to Miss K for reading it over as well.
---
Chapter 2 - Poor Defence
On Halloween morning Snape walked towards the Owlery deep in thought. He was sending an order to The Apothecary in Diagon Alley. His supply of fluxweed, knotgrass and wolfsbane was running low, and he'd also written down a rather large order for gillyweed, which he thought would be interesting to test it in various potions. He had recently had the brilliant idea of melting gillyweed in sap of Woodspring plant, and by adding a touch of alrun root he might be able to discover a new way of -
Before he realized it he was outside the door to the Owlery and paused as he heard two people talking inside.
"It really doesn't make any sense that Sirius would betray James, I still find it hard to believe when I think back." Snape recognized the voice as Lupin's and held his breath. What did Lupin know about Black's escape?
"You know what they were like at school," Lupin continued.
The door was partly open and Snape moved closer to get a better look. The walls were covered with perches, each supporting the weight of a sleeping owl. The floor was covered with hay and owl droppings, particularly under the perches. Daylight was shining through the large windows and by one of them stood Isolde and Lupin, facing each other.
"Yes I do," Isolde answered curtly, "However, I've discovered that a lot of people changed after leaving school," she paused, "I'm still getting used to the idea of Lily being gone, but I wouldn't put it past Sirius to betray her and James." She looked up at Lupin with a cold, angry glimpse in her eye, "You know what he was like at school."
"Oh, come now, Izzy. You know that he wasn't all that bad. Well, he may have been a little arrogant and reckless, but he really was a good kid with a heart in the right place." Lupin smiled, but then in a sympathetic tone he added, "Look, what happened to -"
"I do not wish to discuss the past Remus!" Isolde interrupted and turned away from him, to look at a tiny owl that was twitting madly on the windowsill.
Snape thought that their conversation had gone far enough and walked into the Owlery, his eyes fixed on Lupin, who greeted Snape with a nod and then joined Isolde in looking at the twitting owl, chuckling.
"Fancy meeting the two of you here," Snape muttered as he passed them, glancing at the owl and wondering what could possibly be so fascinating about it.
"We were just discussing the matter of Sirius Black," said Lupin casually, looking back at Snape. He was wearing old and shabby robes and the fringe of his greying brown hair was partly covering his eyes.
"Indeed?" said Snape and grabbed a school owl from the nearest perch. He was certain that Lupin knew something about Black's escape. Even now Lupin seemed to be defending the murderer.
There was an awkward silence. Snape's eyes meet Lupin's, but in the background he saw that Isolde was still focusing on the owl, which was now running in little circles and flapping its wings. Was that a smile on her face? No, he felt he must have imagined it.
"You'll both be attending the Halloween feast tonight I presume?" Snape asked calmly to break the silence, ignoring the disgruntled hooting coming from the owl he was clutching.
"Yes, I wouldn't miss it," Lupin answered cheerfully, rubbing his hands together.
"Isolde?" Snape asked, curious as to what her response would be.
"Professor Dumbledore has requested that I be there," Isolde answered coolly, now looking out the window, keeping her back pointedly turned.
Snape clenched the parchment order in his hand and was about to say something, but then Lupin spoke. "Ah, there's Harry. I'll see you both tonight then?" and he left the Owlery.
Aware of Isolde moving away from the window, Snape looked at her, but without a word she too left the room, and he was left tying the order roughly to the owl's leg and returning to his office and the Wolfsbane Potion.
---
The feast was a great success. The food was delicious and everyone seemed to be in good humour. Everyone, that is except for Snape and Isolde. Snape kept looking at Lupin, who was in deep conversation with an excited Professor Flitwick. Snape was aware that Isolde kept looking over at him with an expression of great dislike, but by ignoring her, he was determined not to give her the cool pleasure of his attention.
As always, the professors lingered in the Great Hall while waiting for all the students to return to their dormitories. Snape could hear Madam Hooch talking with Professor McGonagall about the upcoming Quiddich match, Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff, and the current score of the Houses. He was about to listen in on the conversation when he looked up and saw Isolde approach Lupin.
"You don't look well, Remus," she said with a tiniest hint of worry, but otherwise she kept her expression coolly masked, holding one of her hands in the other.
"I'm all right. I seem to have caught the flu," Lupin said smiling and caught Snape's eyes as he talked. Snape glared back at him resentfully. "If it gets worse, Severus has kindly agreed to take over my lessons for a few days."
Snape bared his teeth and got restlessly to his feet, watching two 4th year Ravenclaws walk out of the Great Hall with sweets sticking out of their pockets. He decided he'd had enough of socialising for the evening and swept into the small room beside the Hall. He really hated Halloween... He walked over to the old fireplace and stared down his hooked nose, into the flames, his mind wandering...
He was walking along a corridor after the Halloween feast in his
third year at Hogwarts, feeling exceptionally pleased with himself
for discovering new use of the Pixie Crystal Potion. He had been
awarded 20 points for it in class.
The Slytherins were sharing Potions with the Gryffindors that year
and that annoying Potter and his friends had been suppressing laughs
when Professor Lamdon had been complementing him, but he knew that
they were envious.
He was heading to the library to get some more books on Pixie
Crystals before going to bed. He heard noise behind him and turned
around swiftly.
"Hey Snivellus," Sirius Black said in a smug voice, "Quite an
impression you made on old Lamdon yesterday. He was quite beside
himself with excitement."
His equally smug friends were standing behind him. James Potter was
tossing his wand in the air and catching it when it was right in
front of him. Peter Pettigrew was picking up his own wand of the
floor after a failed attempt to copy Potter. Remus Lupin stood in
the back, looking down the corridor over his shoulder.
"Yeah, it's not every day that someone discovers a way to dry up
slug slime," Potter said, smirking, "Tell me, did you come up with
the idea by looking in the mirror?" he continued savagely while
catching his wand.
Snape was alertly clutching his own wand in his robes. He was
expecting an attack any minute now. A payback for a clever trick
he'd played on them the day before. They still had small, red
rashes on their faces as a reminder.
Black was laughing, "Why don't you try mixing it with shampoo and
test it on yourself?"
His brilliant suggestion made Pettigrew roar with laughter.
Snape pulled out his wand, but Black and Potter had already pulled
out theirs. Pettigrew's eyes looked like they would pop out any
moment with excitement as he tamed his laughter. Lupin stood behind
them with his back against the wall.
"What are you going to do, Snivellus?" said Black, pointing his wand
at Snape's head, aiming steadily with one eye closed.
Snape realized that as he was outnumbered, he'd never be able to
jinx them all at once. He took a step backwards, thinking that he
had to learn who to attack more than one people at a time – if such
a spell existed.
"Going somewhere?" Potter asked determinedly, his words bouncing of
the walls in an echo followed by a loud "EXPELLIARMUS!"
Snape's wand flew high into the air and landed behind Lupin.
"Don't touch it Remus, you could catch something," said Black,
keeping his eyes on Snape. "James?"
"Yes," Potter answered casually.
"Did you like the Halloween decoration in the Great Hall?" he asked
lightly, looking at the two candle holders that Snape knew were
hanging on the wall behind him – opposite Black.
"I don't know," he replied, "There seemed to be something missing..."
"Exactly what I was thinking," Black said, "I'm gonna need help with
this one." They all took a step closer to Snape, forming half a
circle. With a swish and flick from four wands Snape levitated into
the air and landed harshly with his back on the wall behind him. He
managed to grab onto each candle holder and he saw the candles fall
down on the stone floor, the flames extinguishing on impact,
splattering the floor with wax. As he was too far from the ground
to jump, all he could do was to hang on.
"Perfect," Black said, "now we have our scarecrow."
Pettigrew started laughing again at Black's witty remark.
"Not quite," said Potter and flicked his wand, "Stramineus!"
Snape glared at Potter and thinned his lips. He knew very well what
was about to happen. He felt extreme pain in his fingertips, feet
and ears. He looked at his fingers and saw them grow into a batch
of straws. He quickly looked down and found better hold on the
candle holders. He felt straw growing out of his ears and feet. It
made his eyes water, but he didn't show them that he was hurting -
He wouldn't give them the pleasure.
The boys were roaring with laughter. A group of Gryffindors and
Ravenclaws were approaching...
"Severus!"
With a jolt, Snape looked up and rapidly gathered his thoughts. Professor McGonagall was talking to him with a furrowed forehead.
"Yes?"
"Haven't you heard a word I've said? Dumbledore has sent for us. Apparently something's happened to the Fat Lady."
---
"Sirius Black inside the castle!? How did he get in!?" Professor McGonagall was utterly bewildered as the teachers stood in the gloomy corridor, talking in whispered voices.
"We must find him immediately," said Snape quietly. He narrowed his eyes as he took notice that Lupin didn't look very concerned. He was certain that Lupin knew something about Black – his behaviour was very suspicious. They had, after all, been very close friends.
"I don't think he's still in the castle," said Lupin and shrugged, "He'll be long gone by now." His face was pale and taken and he looked like he would collapse any minute. Clearly the effect of his moon cycle...
The only noticeable difference in Isolde's behaviour was that she seemed absentminded, looking down the stairs, as if she was in her own universe for the time being. He thought he heard her mutter something under her breath, but with Lupin standing between them, Snape couldn't be sure. He thought he'd heard her whisper the name 'Sirius Black' in a cold and resentful tone.
They searched the castle that night but didn't find any trace of Black. They had many theories about how he'd managed to get in, but they found no evidence. For the next days, Sirius Black was all the teachers talked about in the staffroom. The only two people who didn't participate in the conversations were Snape and Isolde, who sat each in their corner, minding their own business.
In a wave of heightened security measures, teachers had been instructed to escort students between lessons. Snape never failed to notice that Isolde, when bringing students to Potions, stood motionless at the top of the last flight of steps, watching until the students were safely inside, before turning on her heel and leaving. If they ever happened to pass in the hallways, she either looked the other way or threw him a disgruntled look before sweeping past him. Whenever he did meet her eyes, he'd keep his expression calm, and perhaps smirked at her once in a while, just to see if she would react in any way.
---
The day before the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match Snape walked into the staffroom, ignoring the Quidditch discussions. To his relief though, the teachers had finally stopped discussing the Sirius Black incident. He had temporarily taken over Lupin's lessons, seeing that his werewolf conditions were getting worse. Snape was very pleased as he'd always wanted to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was much more qualified than Lupin or any other.
He had a sneer on his face as he sat down in his usual armchair and picked up an empty piece of parchment lying on the table. He felt pleased with himself for taking the total of 10 points from the third year Gryffindors and putting Ronald Weasley in detention. Not bad for a day's work. Weasley really shouldn't have defended his precious know-it-all Granger. Why did she always have to prove that she was the smartest student in class?
He crumpled up the parchment he was clutching in his hand and threw it into the fire. It was really irritating, seeing her jumping up and down in her seat, overly keen on answering a question. He really should have put her in detention... That's what she'd deserve for the insolence of answering a question without being asked!
Isolde walked in with a thick book in her arms and sat down in the other end of the room next to Professor McGonagall, placing the book on the table.
"Isolde!" Professor Sprout called and leaned over the table, "Since Ravenclaw isn't playing, who will you be siding with?" she asked expectantly, unknowingly scratching at a hole in the table with her chipped fingernail.
"Miss Montage doesn't follow Quidditch," Snape smoothly informed Sprout, trying to hold back a smirk while glancing over at Isolde. The chattering of the teachers faded into silence and they either looked at him or Isolde, some in amazement, some in alertness.
Isolde shot him a venomous look. "I don't follow Quidditch," she said and smiled stiffly, looking at Sprout who furrowed her brow and looked from Snape to Isolde.
"So, you're not attending the match at all?" Sprout asked in a shocked tone.
Isolde pulled some parchment out of her book and started paging through them. After a while, clearly realizing that the teachers were still waiting for an answer – or reaction, she looked up and cast Snape another look before answering. "I will be attending," she said coolly, "It is after all a tradition for the teachers to attend, isn't it?"
The room filled with buzzing discussions again and Snape stood up from the table to leave the room after exchanging a quick look with McGonagall.
---
On the match day itself, the weather was terrible. The rain was cold and lightning were restlessly lighting up the sky. Snape didn't really mind the weather, although he was standing grumpily amongst the teachers, who were gathered in the stands. He preferred cold weather and having thunders and lightning only added to the atmosphere. He wasn't paying much attention to the game as watching players battle the wind wasn't exactly his idea of quality Quidditch. He stared at the sky ahead, waiting for the next lightning.
The positive side of the match going so badly was that they wouldn't be able to score many points, which was good for Slytherin. He clutched his cloak closer to his chest and after the lightning burst out behind the dark clouds, flashing the gathering around the field, he observed the other teachers.
Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, was arguing about the match with Professor Trelawney, whose ability to foresee daily events was about as successful as Hagrid's cooking. Professor McGonagall, her back pointedly turned to the Divination professor, was waging a friendly bet with Professor Sprout, the two Heads of House backing their own teams solidly. The others were just too cold to remove the thick scarves from around their faces and contribute to the debate of which team would win.
"This really is terrible weather," McGonagall shouted over her shoulder. "At least we have some shelter, but the poor players... It's impossible to play under these circumstances!"
Snape smirked behind her and raised an eyebrow, "Come, come, Minerva. No use in blaming it on the weather..."
The teachers had to hang on to Professor Flitwick who had almost been blown away three times by sudden gusts of wind. "Well, I just hope the Ravenclaws will get better weather in the next match," he said in his high pinched voice that could hardly be heard because of the roaring wind.
Snape looked over the field. The players were kicking off the ground after a time-out called by Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team captain. After a clap of thunder, he saw Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker, zoom across the field in pursuit of the golden snitch. Shortly after, he saw Harry Potter heading in Diggory's direction, leaning heavily on his broom.
Suddenly, McGonagall gasped for breath and clutched Dumbledore, who was sitting next to her. "Albus! Look!" she pointed down to the field.
All around them, students were standing up from their seats, some screaming, others too terrified to make a sound. They either pushed their way to get out of the stands or stood frozen, pointing down at the hundreds of dementors that glided onto the field.
The players clearly hadn't noticed since they were still playing the game, with the exception of one. Snape saw Potter staring down at the dementors through his glasses, stiffly sitting on his broom high in the air.
"NO!" Dumbledore shouted forcefully and stood up swiftly. He sprinted towards the field with his wand aloft and McGonagall on his heels.
Snape quickly followed her and the rest of the teachers, and passed Sprout, who was still holding onto Flitwick to prevent him from being blown away. Snape saw that Potter was falling off his broomstick, pale faced and unconscious, clearly affected by the dementors. Snape raised his wand to slow his fall, but Dumbledore beat him to it.
Snape looked over his shoulder and noticed a group of the dementors suddenly turning towards the teachers. He saw that Isolde was nearest to them, fumbling through her robes and finally pulling out her wand.
"Expecto Patronum -" she tried, but her wand didn't produce a patronus. "Exp..." Snape saw her helplessly close her eyes and fall to the ground.
"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted and a clear silvery form of a large falcon shot out of his wand, and gracefully chased away the dementors surrounding Isolde.
He looked back to the field and saw that Dumbledore was chasing away the rest of the dementors with his phoenix patronus. As Dumbledore seemed to be in control of the situation, Snape hurried over to Isolde and bent over her. She was shivering on the ground, unconscious, cold and wet. He took of his cloak, wrapped it tightly around her and carried her toward the castle, bowing his head against the raging wind.
---
The wind had stopped and there was cold silence. She heard a low, desperate voice in the distance, a woman crying "...help me, please...help me..." A cold voice answered "Crucio..."
She opened her eyes and the high ceiling of the hospital wing slowly came into focus. What had happened? How did she get here? She tried to sit up but stopped as she heard voices talking in the far end of the wing. One of the voices she recognized as Hermione Granger's, and she listened to her talk about Dumbledore attacking the dementors. The dementors... Why couldn't she make a patronus? She had been able to do it before...but now that she thought about it, she'd never really faced a real dementor until just now... She had focused on a happy memory...but then realized that it wasn't really a happy memory. She heard voices in the hall - Professor McGonagall was talking in a hushed voice with Snape and someone else. What were they saying...? She couldn't hear because the kids were talking about Harry's broomstick, which had apparently been shattered into pieces. She sighed and looked at the side table and saw a large piece of chocolate sitting on it.
Professor McGonagall came to see her shortly. "Isolde, how are you feeling?" she asked in a worried tone, sitting in a chair next to Isolde's bed and grabbing her hand.
"I'm all right," Isolde whispered, placing her loose hand on her forehead and closing her eyes with a sigh.
"Severus and I were on our way to see you, but Poppy wouldn't allow both of us in at the same time. She has just thrown out the Weasleys and Miss Granger," she sighed and added, "I'm only allowed to visit you briefly."
"I really don't want to see him," Isolde said weakly and looked at Professor McGonagall. "Where's Dumbledore?" she asked.
"He's talking to Mr. Fudge. He's furious, understandably. I mean really! Having dementors at Hogwarts," she shuddered and stroked her hair back, as if to make sure it was still sitting tightly in a bun. "I do hope they catch Sirius Black soon so that things can go back to normal."
"Yes, me too," Isolde answered. "...Professor," she said in a low voice, curling the corner of her bed sheet, "...did Lily... suffer...?"
Professor McGonagall took a deep breath and glanced at Harry, who appeared to be sleeping. "She was killed immediately and there were no sign of the Cruciatus Curse being used. ...But she would have known that James was dead by then and that You-Know-Who was going to kill Harry." She talked in a low voice, looking at Harry again.
Isolde glanced at the chocolate beside her, "I hope I don't have to eat that."
"Chocolate used to be your favourite," Professor McGonagall smiled. "I remember seeing you and Lily with full pockets of it after every Hogsmeade weekend."
"Used to be..." Isolde sighed and pushed away the memory. She suddenly sat up with a gasp and immediately felt disoriented. Professor McGonagall stood up from her seat and pushed Isolde back down.
"What are you doing?" she asked wide eyed.
"Claresco Potion! I need it. Now!" Isolde insisted and tried to sit up again. She assumed that she had been unconscious for a while and she hadn't taken her daily dose that day.
Professor McGonagall held her down and Madam Pomfrey came running in, holding a vile of yellow liquid.
"Albus told me to have this ready for you, but you need to lay still, Miss Montage" Madam Pomfrey said and poured the thick, horribly tasting potion into Isolde's mouth.
Isolde coughed violently and grabbed the water goblet from the side table. "It's not enough, I need more," she said in between short breaths. That had barely been half her dose!
"Albus explicitly told me not to give you more than this. He said it would be enough," she said and examined Isolde's eyes and ears, snapping her fingers loudly right up against them.
Isolde wasn't happy with this at all. She was certain that the dose was insufficient, but there was little she could do about it. If she knew Dumbledore correctly, he had made sure that the nurse didn't have any more of the potion. She slid back down onto her pillow and closed her eyes. The best she could do was to wait and see...
---
Snape sat in his office and went over the dementor incident in his mind. Cornelius Fudge had managed to convince Dumbledore to allow the dementors to stay. Fudge had been very apologetic, but he was convinced the dementors could find and capture Black.
Snape stood up and started pacing the floor. Why had she collapsed...? he thought for what was probably the fiftieth time that evening, as he stopped in front of his desk and then started pacing again. She had produced patronus before...he thought as he looked at a jar full of dead spiders, picked it up and placed it back on the shelf.
He walked towards his chair. He, Severus Snape would show the Ministry... Snape sat down, closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He would catch Sirius Black himself... Next time Black ventured into the castle, he'd be ready...
Snape opened his eyes, picked up his quill and rolled it between his fingers, feeling the light breeze from the feather touch his chin. He of all people knew she could produce a patronus - he remembered it well. He dropped the quill and closed his eyes again.
I hope Black shows up on my watch – I'm going to catch him...he thought with relish.
He was sitting in a carriage, which was attached to a Thestral. He
knew that most of the other students couldn't see Thestrals, but he,
Severus Snape, could see them quite clearly. He was dreading the
summer holiday as he didn't want to go back to his aunt. After his
uncle died she'd become unbearably bitter. How had his uncle put up
with the old hag? He couldn't wait to start his fifth year next
September...
The door opened. It was that Ravenclaw girl. He couldn't remember
her name.
"Oh, hello," she said smiling. "Is it okay if my friend and I share
your carriage? All the other ones are taken."
What was she smiling at? He wanted to be left alone!
"Fine."
"Thank you," she said, still smiling. "Lily, there's room in here,"
she called over her shoulder.
Great! That annoying Gryffindor Mudblood! That's all he needed.
The girls sat down in the carriage and the Gryffindor girl, Lily
Evans, was laughing. Why did she have to laugh? It was quite
irritating... She looked at him and whispered something to the
Ravenclaw girl as the carriage took off.
"Come on, Lily," the Ravenclaw girl said in a hushed voice,
"Everywhere else was taken. Besides, why do you mind him?"
They weren't talking loudly, but he could hear every word they were
saying in spite of the rattling of the carriage as it travelled over
uneven grounds, and from the corner of his eyes he could see
everything they were doing.
"Isolde Montage!" Evans said while giggling into her hand, which
covered her mouth. "Really, don't you know who that is? It's
Snivellus," she whispered quietly.
"Who?" Isolde curiously glanced at him sideways.
"That's what some of the Gryffindors call him, although I never do.
Just thought you'd recognize him by that name. His real name is
Severus Snape. He's a Slytherin. You know, the one Sirius and
James are always bullying," she giggled.
"Oh, him," Isolde glanced at him again. "I don't like the way
Sirius and his friends treat other students. It's mean. And it's
not funny!" she scowled at Evans, who was still giggling.
"I wasn't laughing at that, Izzy, I was just thinking that you've
been sharing lessons with him for four years now and you don't know
who he is."
"Well... I've only shared History of Magic and Ancient Runes with
the Slytherins..." said Isolde while playing with a dark lock of her
hair and rolled her eyes thoughtfully at the ceiling of the
carriage, frowning, as if trying to remember other times when she
should have noticed him.
"I know, I know, you pay too much attention in class," Evans smiled,
"It's so typical of you not to notice the people sitting behind
you."
After a moment of silence Evans looked out the window. "James asked
me to go with him to Hogsmeade next Halloween."
"I know you like him, even though you won't admit it," Isolde smiled
again, taunting her friend.
"No, I don't! But I know how much you like Sirius, so I told James
that I'd go out with him when you'd say you'd go out with Sirius."
The girls were laughing uncontrollably.
"Well," said Isolde, "That's never going to happen then. He's too
arrogant for my taste, but he is cute."
They kept talking and laughing. Isolde sometimes glanced at him
curiously. Was she going to mock him? he thought and tried to
ignore her. He wouldn't stand for that, he'd jinx her first – at
least cast a Silencing Charm on her and her friend! And did she
constantly have to smile? It was terribly annoying. And what was
that banging sound!
Snape woke up with a start. It took him a moment to realize that someone was knocking on his door. "Just a moment," he snarled at the unknown visitor.
He thought about his dream, which wasn't really a dream because it had happened years ago. He remembered that in the following fifth year, the Slytherins shared Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws and Isolde had approached him after one lesson to ask him to help her with the Proteco Spell. When he had walked away, ignoring her, Sirius Black had offered to help her...
He stood up and opened the door. It was Neville Longbottom, looking terribly frightened.
"Yes? What is it?" Snape asked sharply.
"I...you...you..." Pale faced, Longbottom seemed to be at the verge of fainting.
"Well!?" He was very irritated by the sight of the boy, "What is it Longbottom?"
"I...uh...d-detention..." he managed to stutter, now with a red face and sweaty palms.
"Right," remembering that he'd put him in detention for messing up his potion again the day before. "I'm sure Mr. Filch has some use for you. Well, come along then," he spat as he swept out of his office.
---
To be continued in chapter 3 - Memories Revealed
I apologize for any grammatical errors – English is not my first language. Also, this is my first fiction, so please bear with me ;)