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Italics indicate something written or a memory.
Chapter 7
Severus sighed deeply as he sank down on one of his kitchen chairs. He could have sworn that the firewhisky was glaring at him through the door of the kitchen cabinet, demanding to be drunk. Maybe he should just give in? Sighing he curled his fingers around his cup of tea. It was too early to get drunk again. Comforting warmth seeped into his skin, reminding him that his white robe was not nearly warm enough for the chilly dungeon air. Another sigh escaped his lips. His nostrils flared appreciatively as the aromatic smell of the tea reached his nose. He closed his eyes, easily recalling the first vision he had seen after drinking the draught he had made for the ritual.
He recalled the pain that had spiralled through him as his spirit left his body, but quickly pushed the memory away.The first scene his spirit had been whisked to had been a barren field.
Cold, decayed crops were strewn across the lifeless earth. He slowly walked across the dead field, until he came to stand in front of an enourmos oak tree. A tree, that was not dead. It was the only living thing in the vision, even though it was already decaying. And quickly, judging by the withered leaves surrounding it. The lowest branch was the only one still carrying leaves. A hot, stinging wind full of charring sand rustled through them. Two birds were sitting on the branch and two pairs of beady, lidless eyes glared at him. The wind picked up strength as he reached for them. He ignored he crow and reached for the bird on the left, the raven. Shivers ran through him as the bird shifted its weight, gently touched his fingers with its beak. Helplessly Severus stared at the bird. The raven was aging rapidly, the feathers lost their shimmer and began to float to the ground, the beak lost its sharpness and the eye that had been staring at him turned blind. Within seconds the raven was reduced to nothing but a pile of dust and feathers. Severus wanted to scream, wanted to make it stop, but no sound came over his lips. His throat hurt, but no matter how much he tried, he could not utter a single word. Helplessly he stared at the crow, backing up as it started to change as well.
For just a moment he thought that the crow would die as well, but then he noticed that the bird was merely changing its size and colour. Black became maroon and finally turned into red. The feathers shimmered in the strange twilight of the broken sun, glistening like wet blood. Severus took another step backwards as the bird became bigger. A big, blood-red raven stared balefully at him. Severus stumbled, tried to shield his face with his hands and fell as the bird jumped at him. Flapping winds roared around him, drowning out all other sound, pain flared through his back as he hit the unforgiving earth. Dazedly he stared after the retreating bird. It had attacked him. The Raven had attacked him. Or was it still a crow somehow? Slowly he shook his head. His gaze fell to the pile of feathers that had been the first raven. Gulping he scrambled to his knees, trembling like a leaf as his hands came into contact with the lifeless earth. The wind had lost its bite, but it was still hot. His eyes widened impossibly as the dusty remnants of the first raven suddenly incinerated. Fire flickered around the phoenix that had appeared without Severus really noticing it. A shrill cry echoed over the field. Severus looked up. The bloody raven was back. And this time it was carrying a large cudgeon in its beak. It was heading straight for the phoenix.
Severus gulped, almost choking on his now cold tea. He shook himself out of the memory. The vision should be easy to interpret but he was absolutely helpless. He knew what most of the symbols in the vision meant, but he had no idea what they were supposed to mean as a whole. He had concentrated on raven, had wanted to find the raven or at least information about the lost raven but instead he had found a dying raven that turned into a phoenix and a crow that turned into a bloody raven and attacked the phoenix. The tree was quite clear, he had seen it before. It was the sign of Avalon. A sharp pain pulled at his heart. He knew that Avalon was dying, knew that it was ever so slowly disappearing, a process that had started with Merlin's death, but it still hurt to see it shown so clearly. What really worried him was the cudgeon the bloody raven had been carrying. The club was usual a symbol of Thagda, the leader of the Tuatha Dé Dannan and the master of all knowledge. But Thagda had never been known to attack or interfere in a war or fight of any kind unless there was no other option or he was being directly threatened. What was his role in all of this?
Severus poured another cup of tea, gulping around the painful lump in his throat. He was totally lost. Who could be supposed to understand such a vision? He snorted into his tea. Albus might be able to do that, he told himself. He's probably crazy enough without being completely insane. The only catch was that he did not want to ask Albus. Still shivering he concentrated on the second vision he had seen - or not seen - on his spirit journey.
Everything arounf him had vanished just a few seconds before the raven would have reached the phoenix. He was standing in a black void, unable to see anything he was standing on. Cold wind howled around him, pricking his skin with myriads of icy needles. Severus shuddered, gingerly taking a step forwards. It would not do to fall. If he could even fall in this void. Voices whispered on the wind, but even though he had heard them before he knew none of them, could not put any face to them. Slowly he trudged on, testing the safety of each step before he shifted his feet. "My little one," a voice on the wind suddenly sighed, "You are more lost now than you were ever before."
"Who goes there?" Severus whipped around, wand at the ready. When had he got his wand back. He frowned. The void around him was still just as dark and empty as it had been. There was no one there. After a few moe pained steps he stopped again. A new voice had replaced the first one, a voice he at least believed to be familiar. Very familiar.
The time is coming!" The voice shrieked, "Soon things will draw to an end. The bird will lead you to the chalice! The bird!"
His tea was cold again as his eyes focused on the simple, black tea cup once more. The second voice had been nothing like Trelawney's, but it had said the same words. What could that mean? Was the bird the voice had spoken of the lost raven they were looking for? And if so, what was the chalice they were looking for? If teh bird was indeed the raven, then it was needed to support Harry. Severus never let go of his tea as he started massaging his temples with his left hand. But if the bird and the chalice - whatever and whereever it may be - were connected, then could Harry have the support of the raven without finding the chalice first? And how in Merlin's name were they supposed to follow a non-existant bird to a chalice?
"Time to ask Albus!" the damned clock announced from outside. Severus frowned. Hadn't he banished the damned thing from his rooms? "Time to ask Albus, right now!" the clock insisted.
Groaning Severus got up, grabbed some floo powder and stalked to the fire place. The sparks marred the whole room for a second as he threw them in, fists clenching in anger.
"Albus Dumbledore." He snapped at the helpless flames.
xxxSS/HPxxx
At the same time, in the Slytherin common room, Draco Malfoy had just decided that the day could hardly get any weirder. Or maybe his father was finally losing his wits. It could not be that their Lord was suddenly going mental, so it had to be his father. Sighing he stared at the letter in his lap.
"Draco?" Crabbe finally opened his mouth, "Has your father sent you new orders?"
Draco simply raised an eyebrow in an almost perfect imitation of hos godfather, "And why do you think should I steep so low as to share the orders I may have been given with you?"
"What?" Goyle had decided to aid his friend, "We were only asking."
"Why do I keep you around when it's obvious that your intellect equals that of blast-ended screwts?" Draco relaxed further into the leather of the big arm chair he was lounging in, idly inspecting his dragonhide boots, "Unfortunately you are still quite useful. Go on, harass some Gryffindors, I need to think." He returned his attention to the letter, rereading the last few sentences. It was impossible. How could the Dark Lord be interested in that? Irritatedly he glared up. "Why are you two still here? I said get out!"
A self-satisfied smile played across his lips as Crabbe and Goyle hurried out of the room. Merlin, but he really couldn't await the day when he would not need those two imbeciles any longer. A last time his gaze came to linger on the letter. Our beloved Dark Lord has expressed an interest in the brat's dreams, his father has written, He seems to be especially interested in a black haire woman, who is part of these dreams. His orders for you are simple. Find out what they mean, befriend the boy if necessary.
Draco shook his head. Befriend the Potter brat? What on earth was happening? He grimaced at the last sentence. Do not disappoint me or our Lord, Draco or you may not live to rue it. Just great. He glared at his father's embellished signature. How in Merlin's name was he supposed to befriend Potter of all people? And which interest could the Dark Lord have in what might be only some wet dreams about some black-haired woman?
"Incendio." Ash rained to the floor as flames tore the letter apart. Always best to leave no evidence. Draco smirked. He had a plan. Now he only had to visit a certain someone.
xxxSS/HPxxx
"I am glad you agree with me that this is better discussed in person than through a fire."
Snape glared almost hatefully at the headmaster as he stepped from the fireplace, brushing some ash from his robes.
"Albus," he growled, "How can you be so appallingly cheerful about the whole matter?"
"Tea, Severus?" Dumbledore pushed a cup over the table.
"No. Why are you always trying to force that stuff on me?" he asked irritably. The chair in the headmaster's office was just as uncomfortable as always. Which was probably the old man's intention; his way of keeping a potential opponent on edge. "It is getting out of hand," he announced, shifting angrily on the chair.
"Stop squirming, Severus." Dumbledore reached across the table to pat his friend's hand, "And why don't you just transfigure my chair if it is too uncomfortable for you?"
"This chair is not uncomfortable." Snape almost bit his tongue as he forced himself to remain calm.
"Excellent!" A broad smile lit the old man's face, "Now tell me what is going out of hand."
"The whole Potter and Raven problem, what else?"
Dumbledore sighed deeply, shaking his head. "What has he done this time?"
Severus forced himself to hide his surprise. "What has who done this time?"
"Harry," elaborated the headmaster, "This is about him, I presume? What has he done to bring your wrath upon him this time?" Dumbledore downed the tea in his cup in one gulp and then rattled on without even waiting for Snape's answer. "Did he challenge you again? Has he perhaps sneaked into your rooms or-"
"No." Snape said coldly, sitting motionless in the chair as he waited for his answer to sink in.
"And why has he... " Albus trailed off, "No?" he repeated finally.
"Just no," Snape's fingers were drumming on the arm rest of his chair now, "Potter has not done anything... this time," he added as an afterthought.
"Then what is bothering you?"
"My vision." Snape stopped his drumming on the arm rest as he waited for the headmaster to answer. Why did Albus always make these dramitic pauses if he wasn't twinkling?
"Just tell me one thing," Albus toyed with the empty cup for a moment before refilling it, "Why are you suddenly worried enough to ask me ?"
"This has nothing to do with how worried I am." Severus pushed another tray of sweets away, "I told you I wnated to sort through my memories before I talked about them."
"Very well," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling again as he relaxed back into his chair, which looked quite comfortable, Severus thought almost enviously. "Tell me about that vision of yours then."
xxxSS/HPxxx
Harry stared angrily at the parchment in his lap, ignoring Ron and Hermione in favour of observing every dot on the map. Snape was visiting Dumbledore. Again. Or maybe the headmaster had kept his promise and was trying to talk to Snape. Harry scowled. Snape was still a Death Eater, and he was pretty sure that the potions master was still serving Voldemort. Not that Dumbledore would ever accept that. He was just too determined to see something good in everybody. Even in Snape.
"Harry," Ron called over, "Come on mate! We'll never get Mione onto the quidditch pit again! Stop scowling at the map!"
Harry glanced over to where his friends were plaing with some bludgers, sending them back and forth between them. The hits echoed over the field. Strangely enough no other students had decided to spend their sunday on the quidditch pit.
"Mischief managed," he whispered at the map, his eyes glued to the dot labelled Snape until it had faded as well, "I will show you all." He frowned as a familiar shilhouette appeared, topped by silver blond hair. Malfoy. Heading straight for Ron and Hermione.
"Fuck!" Harry jumped up, forcing himself not to run over to his friends.
xxxSS/HPxxx
"Are you quite sure?" The twinkle had disappeared from Dumbledore's eyes again, "The words you heard were exactly the ones Sybil spoke?"
"Yes." Snape's back stiffened, "Even though she has no notion of what divination should be."
"I noticed that your method seems to differ from hers," Dumbledore raised a mocking eyebrow, "I doubt she'd be willing to try yours."
"A pity," Snape slowly returned the smile, "She might actually see something useful."
"So it seems that we do not only have to search for that raven, but also for some chalice."
"Yes." Snape gazed out of the window for a moment, before he continued nonchalantly, "I think you should consider invloving the order in this."
"And how am I to explain it to them?" Dumbledored leant forward, locking gazes with Severus, "I can hardly come up with some age old myth to explain our search for an immortal raven and the supposed heir of Merlin, how am I supposed to explain that they are also supposed to search for a chalice? A chalice we know nothing about, if you don't mind me saying that."
"I know that it is difficult," Severus frowned, "But if this raven was once human..." he trailed off.
"Yes?" Dumbledore's eyebrows were almost disappearing into his hairline, "It sounds as though you might have an idea."
"If this raven was once human, then shouldn't an owl or a bord with strong magical abilities be able to find it?"
"It should indeed!" Even the stars on Dumbledore's robe sparkeled excitedly, "It sounds like the perfect assignment for Fawks..."
Severus frowned as Dumbledore suddenly trailed off again. Slowly he followed the headmaster's gaze, his mouth dropping open unceremoniously as he noticed the empty perch. Fawkes was gone.