Chapter 2
~Shadows of The Past~
His boot heels clacked against the ancient stones as he quickly took to the main hall, hoping to reach the staircase before a fellow teacher or wayward student accosted him. His head was already buzzing at the change made from the quiet, cold stillness of the outside to the raucous nature the castle and its hundreds of inhabitants offered. Students raced down the corridors, ghosts floated overhead in a silvery parade, bursts of magic popped and whizzed in the air, along with paper airplanes, owls, and small fireworks. He was also quite certain he detected a whiff of dissipating dungbomb. Total bedlam, as always.
The students made way for him, curtailing their trickery until he'd passed, not wanting to earn a detention on an evening such as this. Truth be told though, he wasn't nearly the tyrant he was before the end of the war, and while no student was foolish enough to provoke him, they no longer cowered in fear of his wrath. Truthfully though, he no more wished to dole out a punishment than they wished to receive one, not on this Hallowed Evening. As it was, he reached the stairs with little more than a ringing in his ears. The stairs themselves, thankfully, were in a benevolent mood and moved with haste in the direction he desired, towards the Ravenclaw tower.
He climbed as the stairs swept across the great expanse of the hall and latched onto the upper landing. Lost in thought, and watching the tumultuous procession below, he only now looked up. And when he did, his own screams of terror filled his ears. An immense silver snake, its fangs bared, its malicious eyes staring into his own, lunged for his throat, hissing as it came. He closed his eyes, fearing the sight, waiting for the fearsome bite, but it never came. The snake had melted to vapor at first contact. Snape stumbled backwards and caught himself by the handrail of the staircase, his mind reeling, tears streaming unbidden from his eyes, his heart pounding so hard he could hear nothing but its beating. But then, there it was, laughter. Peeves.
Peeves. Damn him!
"What's the matter Snapey Pie? Did the snakey make you cry? Hahaha!"
Peeves whirled and spun and laughed making faces and blowing raspberries at Snape. Snape's mouth twisted into a maw of humiliated rage. He withdrew his wand and pointed it at the poltergeist, casting a spell so fast that Peeves had no time to dodge. The silvery figure shrieked in outrage as the magic hit him. Suddenly, the little ghost's ears grew to three times their normal size, as did his nose. His mouth meanwhile shrank into nothingness, and an overly large pigs tail sprouted from his backside. His hands and feet too were now replaced with the large fur frilled hooves of draft horse. Snape gathered himself up, wiping the tear tracks from his face.
"Well, well Peeves, aren't you quite the sight. All ready for Halloween are we now?" he said with a malevolent smile.
Peeves flew at him, waving his hoof hands, his ears flapping, muffled obscenities caught in his lipless mouth. He passed through Snape, still unable to voice his rage as he slipped through the ceiling, off to hide his hideous change. Snape chuckled at the now powerless poltergeist, but he could still feel the lingering shakes of fear in his knees. The image of that ghostly serpent still danced in his eye's mind. With a deep breath, and an even deeper thankfulness that no students had borne witness to the incident, he made his way to down a little used corridor.
Whispering an incantation, a simple, wooden door appeared with a brass plaque inscribed "The Viewing Room" upon it. He turned the latch and entered. It was dark now and the lone window provided little light from the outside. However, an otherworldly glow caught his eye from the corner of the room. As he stepped inside, suddenly, there appeared a head, pale and waxen, seemingly lit from within. It was a face with red, vindictive eyes, a nose comprised of slits, and mouth of sharp teeth, behind which the very fires of Hell seemed to stir. A swirl of robes could be heard as the floating head came towards him. Snape's heart leapt to his throat as the long dead visage came at him. He backed up, slamming into the door, a cold sweat broke out on his brow and his tongue felt like wool in his mouth. He reached for his wand, but his fingers trembled, causing his grasp to slip again, and again, and again.
It was almost to him now, this terrible ghost that couldn't be, this horrible monster returned from the shadows of death. Finally, his hand fixed fast around his wand and he drew it up, pointing it at the glowing face of darkness itself.
"Reducto!" he screamed out with a tremulous voice, the only spell his terrified brain could muster.
As the jet of light issued from his wand, he gasped at what he saw as the luminous face of Voldemort, the Dark Lord exploded before him.
AN: Well, I tried to have this uploaded on Halloween, but I have no computer at home, and the one I usually use to upload no longer allows me to do so. I hope you don't mind a Halloween story a little after the fact. Please R&R.