Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter Two.
Author: Woodland Goddess.
Rated: M
Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for the length delay on this. Since December I've been fairly busy, and have been struggling to find time to write and edit my work, but I hope the delay hasn't caused any disinterest. I'm going to try my best to post more regularly in the coming weeks and months. Thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy this instalment.
Chapter Two: Slytherin Dungeon
Headmaster Dumbledore dismissed the students once the opening feast had come to a close, the chatter dying away slowly as a sense of weariness settled over the Great Hall. Lucius rose elegantly from the bench at Severus' side, his platinum-blond hair shining in the flickering candlelight. Dark eyes watched discreetly, wonderingly, as the boy came to stand near Athena Catchlove, the girl who had helped Severus' mother up from the ground in Diagon Alley. Her expression tightening fractionally, Athena rose from her bench at the Ravenclaw table, her own waist-length blonde hair swept back in a tidy braid.
The nearby Ravenclaw seventh years fell silent, their shoulders tensing in anticipation as the pair of them stood rigidly in front of each other. Both of them drew themselves to their full height as Athena brought Lucius into quiet conversation. Their Head Boy and Girl badges gleamed upon their breasts. It was clear to all concerned that their civility was forced, but that hardly surprised Severus. As if sensing the weight of his gaze, Athena's silvery eyes flicked in Severus' direction; recognition flashed across her face, a smile curling her mouth.
The boy pulled his gaze away quickly, heat flooding his cheeks at being caught, and allowed his attention to be captured by an approaching figure. A tall and slim girl, perhaps sixteen years old, strode towards the newly sorted Slytherins. Like Lucius, she was platinum-blonde and sharp-featured, but the curve of her jaw was softer. She was quite lovely to look at despite the fact that she was confident to the point of pure arrogance. Her Prefect badge shimmered as she came to a stop nearby, her robes parted slightly to reveal the uniform beneath. "First years will follow me, please." Her cold and clear voice brooked no argument. "Quickly, now."
Severus was the first to rise from the bench, the others scrambling up after him. Blue eyes narrowed sharply, briefly resting upon each new face before she turned quickly and strode away without another word, expecting them to follow. Her free-flowing blonde hair bounced with her motion and it was oddly distracting. Brushing imaginary lint from his second-hand robes, Severus followed after the authoritative girl, whose gait spoke of impeccable breeding. She kept her back straight and her head held high. Her legs seemed impossibly long, judging by the length of her stride.
The gaggle of first years had to jog to keep up with her, throwing dismayed looks at each other as they did so. Severus, however, fought an amused smirk and was thankful for his friendship with Lily, which had given him ample opportunities for exercise as she dragged him around Cokeworth. The Prefect led them through a door quite close to the doors of the Great Hall, the heels of her shoes clicking and clacking sharply against the stone floor. Her black school robes swirled and billowed in her wake, bearing an emerald green hem that glimmered in the torchlight.
The door opened out onto a long corridor, which had several tributary corridors leading off it.
Obsidian eyes flicked in every direction and kept count of the corridors they passed, taking note of important markers. The girl led them down the third corridor on the right, then the fourth on the left, which opened out in to a large vestibule, though it was not quite as large as the Entrance Hall. Opposite the entrance they had used was a narrow archway that opened out onto a gloomy staircase that spiralled downwards. The ceiling of the vestibule was quite high and the room had large windows. Stars gleamed in the distance, bright against the inky sky. A large stone staircase framed by a sturdy wall to prevent students from falling over the edges led upwards to an arched passageway lit by a number of torches. Opposite the staircase stood a large set of wooden doors.
The Prefect paused in front of the staircase and turned to face the first years, who looked around curiously.
"This is the Long Gallery," she announced, her words echoing faintly in the reasonably spacious vestibule, "a term which refers to the central building of Hogwarts Castle. It encompasses all the rooms between the Viaduct Entrance," here, she gestured towards the large set of doors, "and the Bell Towers. Up the staircase you will the find the Tapestry Corridor, which – as the name suggests – houses a large collection of tapestries but, more importantly, also houses the portrait of Google Stump, a noted philosopher and Hufflepuff."
As she uttered the Wizard's name she made a moue of distaste. "The portrait, if you speak the correct password, will provide a shortcut to the first floor. In the coming days, one of the Slytherin Prefects will supply you with the necessary password, which is subject to change throughout the year. I would advise you all to memorise it as swiftly as possible." She tilted her head upward and bared a hint more of her neck. "We Slytherins pride ourselves on our punctuality; if any one of you should cast so much as a single blemish upon our record, we will be...very upset."
Blue eyes gleamed like steel blades.
"Yes, sir," said Evan Rosier, the boy with the ridiculous ears. Severus snorted and Merwyn Wilkes muffled a laugh behind his hand as the Prefect arched one elegant eyebrow, turning her sharp gaze upon Evan. It took several moments for the boy to realise his mistake and when he did he quickly ducked his head, his cheeks flushing scarlet in mortification. "I mean, ma'am," he mumbled, stuffing his long-fingered hands into the pockets of his robes. He shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.
The Prefect softened almost imperceptibly as she surveyed him. "Narcissa will do, Evan." The boy glanced up, a hesitant and surprised smile curling his mouth. The corner of Narcissa's lips twitched as though she were on the verge of breaking her stoic demeanour. Gesturing towards the Viaduct Entrance, she continued briskly, "these doors will lead you out onto the viaduct, which will take you to the courtyard. From there, finding the Greenhouses will be relatively simple; you should see them in the distance. Any questions?"
Silence answered her.
"Good."
Narcissa turned on her heel and made for the shadowy archway, crossing over the large Hogwarts crest that was embossed upon the stone floor. Severus followed after her swiftly and knew he would not like to cross her; she seemed to be a no nonsense sort. He considered it an admirable quality.
The group descended the narrow spiral staircase. Torches burst into fiery life as they proceeded and extinguished themselves after they had passed. It was a miracle that no one's hair was set ablaze, particularly when it came to the girls.
The staircase opened out onto a long corridor, which fed into another staircase that turned left at a right angle. The corridor itself was wide and lined with sturdy columns. On the left there were a series of doors nestled between the columns; on the right there were alcoves that housed a selection of exquisitely carved statues. Shadows fell across them, seeming to bring their faces to life in the darkness, white eyes watching intently as the students passed them.
"From the spiral stairs, the doors lead thusly: one – Potions Classroom; two – Potions Storeroom; three – Chapel; four – Armoury, which is disused as this point in time, of course."
Severus and Evan exchanged glances, the former curious, the latter nervous. "The weapons are a large part of this school's distinguished history," Narcissa continued as they passed the door to the armoury. "They are antique and still quite dangerous. No one is to enter the armoury without permission or escort. We wouldn't want any accidents." The smirk in her tone was laced with deviousness, as if she had entered the chamber on countless occasions and dared them to try it themselves.
Well, that's definitely out of the question, Severus thought wildly. I don't want to lose a limb on a fool's dare. They continued to the second staircase, which turned at right angles three times before opening out onto another long corridor. This one, unlike the previous one, was well-lit. The torches burned brightly, casting their flickering light everywhere. Opposite a blank stretch of wall was a portrait. The painting depicted a man with black hair, though grey had begun to seep in around his ears.
"By Jove," exclaimed the portrait in a rich voice, the man within straightening abruptly in his chair. A short and wide glass sat in his hand. The amber liquid swirled almost violently with his brisk movements. "That time of year already? It seems like only yesterday the miscreants had vacated the school." Angular, but bushy eyebrows knitted together in an irritated frown. His moustache and tidy facial hair did not disguise the fact that he was terribly unimpressed. "The school years should start later and end earlier, I say."
"Ah, Professor Viridian," greeted Narcissa, pausing in front of the portrait. She inclined her head politely, a lock of blonde hair falling to brush her pale cheek. "I'd normally agree with you, Sir, but I'd find myself missing your company."
Professor Viridian huffed within his portrait, twin spots of colour flaring across his cheekbones. "Codswallop," he rebuked, straightening his green silk cravat with a large hand. His stiff white shirt almost glowed against the fabric of his black coat, the bronze buttons of which shone brightly. He gesticulated towards her with the hand bearing his glass. "Don't presume I'm unaware of the students' regard for me, Ms Black." Dark eyes – so much like Severus' own that he began to ponder their possible genetic relations – narrowed as Professor Viridian peered out at them.
The heavy gaze rested briefly upon each face before him. His lips thinned infinitesimally, a trace of quiet wonder encroaching the man's eyes. Long legs crossed in an oddly feminine manner, the fabric of his breeches wrinkling slightly. "You, there," said the Professor crisply, gesturing to Severus with his glass. The boy startled, not having expected the man to call him out for the intrigue in his gaze. The other first years turned to look at him in surprise; Barberus Prince was silently infuriated; Evan was curious. "You seem to be thinking fairly hard, lad. May I ask the subject?"
Severus hesitated, dark hair framing his face as he avoided looking directly at the portrait. "The ancestry of my kin, Sir."
"Who are your kin?"
"The Princes, Sir." Glancing upwards, he caught the sharpening of Professor Viridian's gaze as the man sipped his drink.
"Snapes," corrected Barberus darkly. "You're no Prince."
"My mother was a Prince," answered Severus indignantly, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He drew himself up to his full height and glared at the other boy.
"Your mother was a blood-traitorous wh –"
"Enough," snapped the Professor in a loud voice, his hand tightening around his glass as he cut through Barberus' harsh insult. Severus' nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw, taking a step towards Barberus with murderous intent. No one had the privilege of insulting Eileen Snape and getting away with it. Professor Viridian coughed, clearing his throat and recapturing the boy's attention. His dark eyes glittered menacingly and when he continued speaking his voice was deadly quiet. "Your petty squabbles and family feuds have no place in these halls."
Elbow balanced on the arm of his chair, Professor Viridian buried his face in his free hand. The man's shoulders slumped wearily and he held his glass at a precarious angle, the amber liquid threatening to spill over at any moment.
"My apologies, Sir," said Narcissa as she inclined her head once more, though the portrait remained unaware of the action. "We'll be on our way forthwith and won't bother you again; I'm certain you have much better things to be dealing with." Eyes like blades glanced at the first years before she turned to face the blank stretch of wall. Her voice cold and clear, Narcissa said, "Aut inveniam viam aut faciam."
As if commanded by the few words of Latin voiced by the Prefect the wall moved. Much like the entrance to Diagon Alley, the wall shifted to reveal a hidden interior. "Welcome," she said, smirking, "to the Slytherin Dungeon."
Striding forward purposefully, Narcissa led them through the whole in the wall, down the short passage and out into the expansive Slytherin Common Room. The room had rough stone walls and ceiling, from which were hung large, round lamps on chains, casting an almost ghostly green light.
There was a fire lit in the hearth, its warm glow illuminating the elaborately carved mantelpiece before them and the skin of a bear stretched out across the floor, the flames reflected in its dark, lifeless eyes. Narcissa led them past the fireplace, through the myriad tables and darkly upholstered chairs that looked antique, upper-class and unbelievably comfortable simultaneously. Severus hesitated as he passed the fire, basking for a moment in the heat that fell upon him. His eyes drifted closed at the simple pleasure, the dull throbbing ache that had assailed his left arm ebbing away in the face of it.
Stopping in front of a door, the ebony wood gleaming under a layer of lacquer, Narcissa turned to face the students. Blue eyes gazed at them evenly. "The boys' dormitories and lavatories are through this door and down the stairs to your left; girls, the same on your right. You'll find your belongings have already been brought down." A hint of a smile graced her mouth, then, as she surveyed them. "Breakfast begins at seven in the morning; however, Professor Slughorn, our Head of House, will likely wish to have a few words with all of you beforehand, so I would advise that you get an early night." She snapped her fingers. "Well, hop to it!"
The group divided in two, the boys waiting as the girls moved past Narcissa and pushed open the door. When the boys made to follow after them, Narcissa said quietly, "Barberus, a word, please." The other boys kept their heads down as they hurried past Barberus, whose face paled spectacularly. Severus threw a sidelong glance in his direction as a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. His cousin met his gaze and glared, mouth twisting in a snarl. Feeling victorious, Severus allowed the door to fall shut behind him, leaving Barberus and the Prefect alone in the Common Room.
He descended the left staircase, noticing that unlike the previous ones, this staircase did not bend or turn in the slightest. It was a straight descent with four doors on either side, each opposing pair situated at a brief stretch of straight stone, before the descending steps began again. They found the correct door quickly enough, for it was marked: First Year. It was opposite the lavatory. Falco Borgin, the oily-haired boy, was the first to reach the door, opening it hesitantly, as though he were afraid something might jump out and bite him.
The dormitory, when it was revealed, was long and spacious. There were three beds on one side, two on the other, and each bed had twin sets of bedside lockers burdened with lamps that gave off green light. Their trunks had indeed been brought down; Mordred's empty bird cage sat upon one locker. At the far end of the room, beyond the beds and lockers, were five armoires and one tall bookcase filled with books on various subjects. Facing them was a stretch of reinforced glass built into the walls beyond the armoires. A small school of fish swam past as they watched.
Evan gasped in surprise and then clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, jolly good!"
Chuckling at the boy's easy happiness, Severus slipped past him and stepped fully into the room. Standing there, dark eyes flicking in every direction, he could feel the weight of a thousand years of history pressing on him and it was marvellous. He blinked away the sting in his eyes and looked at the large medieval tapestry that hung on the wall between the two beds. It depicted several things, but at the centre there was a sword embedded in stone. Two men stood by the sword, one grasping it, the other dressed in deep green robes, watching the first man closely.
"Merlin," said the young wizard, breathless, for there before his eyes was one of the most renowned Slytherins in Wizarding history, known even amongst Muggles. Something heavy settled in his chest and sent his heart racing as his lungs constricted painfully. Hands twitching at his sides, barely resisting the urge to touch, Severus felt a smile quirking his mouth. The expression was neither bright nor obvious, but it was true and heartfelt. If Merlin, a Wizard of such limited means, could become one of the greatest Wizards of his age, then, perhaps...
Perhaps there was hope for Severus, too.
"Well, chaps," said Merwyn as he climbed onto the bed that had been selected for him. The reserved boy seemed almost cheerful, his hands caressing the green and black blankets that decorated his bed. "It seems we got the best room in the house."
Severus, whose attention had been pulled from the tapestry, found himself nodding stiffly in agreement. He simply could not wait until morning, when he could go outside and whistle for Mordred, in order to write Mr Evans his first letter of the year. The man was certain to be appreciative of everything Severus elected to tell him.
"I doubt it," said Barberus, who came barrelling through the door, angry and shaken. "Do you really think any self-respecting Slytherin would be proud to have that Mudblood lover on their wall?" He threw a nasty glance in Severus' direction.
"If you're referencing what I think you are," snapped Severus, turning to face his cousin fiercely, "I'll ask that you stop right now, if you wish to remain attached to your tongue." Sneering, the boy turned away from Severus without another word, though his hands shook as he started pulling off his robes. Whatever Narcissa had said to him, while the boys had continued down to the dormitories, had clearly left an impression. Wondering what she might have said, Severus began getting ready for bed; he was certain he would need his wits about him in the morning...
To Be Continued.
This was a fun chapter to write, I must admit. I'm happy to see Narcissa Black making her debut at last; she will feature quite strongly throughout the second and third volumes as our Severus walks the path toward the rest of his life.
Aut inveniam viam aut faciam means "I shall either find a way or make one," which was recommended to me by a friend that has acted as a soundboard for this trilogy on numerous occasions. I think it has a very Slytherin touch to it, don't you?