(A/N: Next chapter uploaded! Sorry for the delay - I went camping over the weekend! Caught some awesomely HUGE fish (no, really, they were like thiiiiiiiiiis big!) and then when I got home I was super tired, but I didn't forget about you awesome readers and reviewers who are painstakingly waiting for this next chapter - and soooo, without further ado, please read this chapter and let me know what you think and why you think it! Your thoughts make me type all the more faster! Wonderwhiterabbit hopping off)

In the Head of the Snake

Chapter 12: Diverse Breeds

His head felt like a burning rod had prodded itself through his one ear, throbbing and burning through his brain only to exit out the other side. Such was the metaphor Snape conjured up for his headache. Blood loss could do that, he supposed. But it felt like something else as well; like his head was throbbing from relief. No, not his head: his thoughts. They beat up against his open black eyes in flurries of colour, reliving themselves for no other apparent reason than to taunt Snape about the past. Why was his head playing such a dirty trick on him?

He sat up slowly in his chair. Surely the girl would have known to give him the potions? There they were, green and red glistening bottles sitting patiently on the desk for him to greet them with his lips. And yet he resisted. He knew that the revitalisation potion would help with the headache. And the blood replenishment potion would definitely give him the pick-me-up he needed.

But he also knew that as soon as he took those potions, the magical feeling about him would leave. Something had happened after he had passed out.

There was a knock on his door. Getting groggily to his feet, Severus walked over to the door and opened it a crack – enough for an eye and some greasy hair to breech the gap. His one eye opened a bit at his visitor in surprise, but he opened the door properly to greet his large guest.

"Yes, Hagrid?"

"Professor Snape, g'mornin' firs' of all."

"To you too," Snape nodded his head curtly. Although the oaf was, well, an oaf, Snape had great respect for how much Hagrid endured. Both with his birth right and with the encounter that put a stopper to his magical abilities. Ah yes, once again things all came back to Tom Riddle. To Lord Voldemort. To He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Yes, there were many names for him. But You-Know-Who only had one true name in Severus' mind; evil.

He returned his thoughts to the man in front of him. Hagrid was wringing his hands silently, green pus oozing slowly out of large cuts along his fingers. Similar cuts adorned his face, his one eye covered in a large purple bruise.

"I, er, was wonderin' if you could, yeah know, maybe, er, help me with somethin'?" he stammered out, his hands wringing each other in a strangle hold.

"I am sure that the current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would be more than capable of helping with any sort of Dark Creatures who may have run amuck in your caravan park, Hagrid."

"Well tha's just the thing, you see. I can' ask Umbridge fer help – she'd try ta kill him!"

"Kill him? Kill who?"

"Firs' I just wanna know if you'll promise ta keep this to yerself? 'Cause Dumbledore said I should come ter you if I needed help, but I'd still feel, er, safer if I had yer word?"

"If Dumbledore said you could come to me in secrecy, then I assure you that you can come to me in secrecy and that I will help. Dumbledore has that effect on people."

Hagrid puffed his chest out.

"He right well does!" Hagrid said with pride, but then deflated a bit while giving Snape a shifty glance.

"Hagrid, I don't have all day."

"Na I was jus' thinking tha' it's a bit chilly out there," he pointed upwards above ground.

"Give me two moments," Snape said before closing the door in Hagrid's face and turning back to his desk. There sat the two vile of potion, still patiently awaiting him. He glugged them down with a smirk at his own flavouring – mint and cherry – before summoning his cloak with his wand.

Closing the door behind him, Snape said, "Lead the way, Hagrid."

He could feel his head slowly regaining a regular pound similar to that of an average headache. With each easing beat of full blood through his veins, so Snape could think clearer. He scowled at his own physical weakness. The clear air cut through his thoughts and he looked out at the misty morning grounds. What time was it? Certainly not later than five or so? Not even a lone early-bird student was eating breakfast in the great hall. Snape felt slightly sick thinking of food, but breathed deeply as they strode across the grounds, their feet leaving dark impressions against the dew settled on the tall grass.

"I jus' need someone ta help a bit with magical things and the like, now that Dumbledore is gone," Hagrid said as soon as they were well out of hearing range of the castle entrance. "I mean he did the general things and what not but I jus' don' want him running away."
"You know that Dumbledore is gone?" asked Snape, hiding his greed for knowledge.

"Yeah, I saw him on his way out," Hagrid nodded his large head, never taking his eyes off of the path that he was walking.

"Did he say why he was leaving?"

"Na, jus' somethin' abou' a hunch, tha's all he said."

"He said something similar to me," Snape said quietly, but Hagrid still heard.

"Well if he wants ta tell us abou' his missions and the like, then I'm sure he will. But Dumbledore is a very important person, an' I'm sure he deals with very important stuff, so it don't matter to me if he tells me stuff or not. He trusts me. Dumbledore is a great man."

But Snape couldn't help but wonder at that. Dumbledore was surely powerful, and surely great, but what type of greatness can be reached without the help of others. Why wasn't Dumbledore asking for his help?

"Righ' we're jus' gonna pop into the Forest now."

Snape shook off his thoughts and turned to face the mass of green that stood before him. The Forbidden Forest. As a child, he had often gone wandering into its depths looking for particular potion ingredients or, most of the time, looking for solace from the silence as he hid from his childhood torturers. James Potter. And his Minions. Simply put, they were bullies. And Lily had fallen for them in the end. Fallen for the tricks and the jokes and the stupidity. She always loved to laugh...

Severus, serious as ever, strode purposefully after Hagrid who had (surprisingly despite his size,) disappeared behind the first large tree trunk.

The Forest was quiet, only the sound of scrunching leaves under their feet and the gentle swish of cloaks to accompany them as they trudged through the Forest's undergrowth.

"Are you going to tell me what I need to do, Hagrid?" asked Snape lazily as he jumped over an extended root with apparent boredom. Inside, though, his body was relishing the physical activity. Too long had he been shoved from one side of the war to the next, each time being beaten in a different sense; more than not physically on the Dark side, or emotionally of the Light. Light and Dark. Was that really what the war had come to? Then what was he? In a world of black and white, where did red belong? For surely he was red – tainted by blood and by passion. And, if anything, by love.

"Yeah," Harid's voice brought Snape back to the present. "Yeah I will tell ya...I'm jus' not so sure how you're gonna take it, is all."

"At this point, Hagrid, I don't think anything could surprise me."

"Allrigh' then. Well, ya know that I had a mission at the end of last school year, righ'?"

"Yes, you were sent to create an alliance with the giants. You failed."

"Yeah," Hagrid grumbled slightly, blood rushing to his face. "Anyway, so then I was supposed ter come straight back ter Hogwarts for the new year, but I was late."

"Am I about to find out," Snape asked silkily, "why you were absent from school for so long?"

"Yeah," Hagrid said again, giving a shifty glance at Snape. Snape's lip turned up slightly at the corners – Hagrid was acting just like a child who was having second thoughts about ratting out his friends. But Hagrid gained his composure, grunting loudly, before turning off the path and towards thicker brush.

"Righ' so I was late to school because of one simple reason; I was bringin' back my brother."

They veered off to the side again and Snape found himself in a sudden opening in the forest. He took a step backwards; the clearing was not, as it should have been, clear. It was inhabited by something large. Something monstrous. Something that Snape could not clearly identify as being a relative of Hagrid.

"Professor, meet my brother, Grawp."

Snape's face, momentarily covered in shock, reverted to a placid form. His mind was swirling inside; how many giants did Voldemort have? How much larger were they than this one? But surely having at least one giant opposing Voldemort was a start, right? Tactics shifted from one form to the next. Defences formed then fell then reformed.

"How tame is he?" asked Snape brusquely.

"Tame? He's not an animal! He's my brother!"

"Let me rephrase; how learned is he in the ways of the magical world?" Snape rolled his eyes at his own politically correctness.

"Well he's still afraid of magic. He likes water but he doesn't like fire and sparks and the like."

"And his English?"

"Gettin' there. The big problem is tha' he's bored an' he's tryin' to escape."

"Escape?"

"Yeah," Hagrid nodded his head. "He wants ter be near the lake. He saw it on the way into the grounds when we firs' came here. I asked Dumbledore ter put some barriers up so he can't run away or be seen, bu' he was in a rush so he said I had ter ask you."

"If he is bored, and he is not an animal, it would do good to let him have free reign."

"Bu' what if he hurts someone by accident? He don' mean no harm, but others don' see it like tha'!"

"Allright," sighed Snape. "I'll see what I can do, but against a Giant...there isn't much."

"But you'll do what you can?"

"The very best that I can, yes Hagrid." Hagrid beamed at Snape as if he was Father Christmas. "But I will be giving him more space to roam around in. He is a giant, Hagrid; he can't live in a cage."

"Anythin' you say, Professor!" Hagrid clapped his large saucer hands together and Snape, rolling up his sleeves, started to approach the giant (literally) figure on the ground.

Grawp, as Hagrid had called him, was sleeping with his face against the ground, and his large rear-end facing the sky. Hot breathe shot out of lopsided nostrils as the sleeping Grawp snored softly in and out. He was not a big giant, Snape mused, but he had strong arms and sturdy legs. Grawp reminded Snape of a rhinoceros, whereas other larger giants were elephants. But that was ok – even rhinos were deadly. Sizing the giant up, Snape decided on a radius of one hundred meters – that would be enough to allow the Giant to explore and learn about the Forest after living in the mountains for so long.

He pointed his wand upwards, and, muttering incantations quickly, did a swirl over his head. A green ward with the consistency of a bubble shot high up and stretched first outwards then upwards, falling slowly to settle on the quiet forest. The bubble then melted away into thin air.

"That should do it, Hagrid," Snape turned to Hagrid who's small eyes were watering with unshed tears of thanks. "What breed is he?" Snape pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the giant.

"Grawp? Well my mum was a Fighter, so I know he's a cross between tha' at least."

"But he's small."

"Yeah I think me mum liked them smaller'n her. Look at me dad – he was tiny."

"I'd rather not go into that. But he definitely has Fighter blood in him?"

"Yeah, bu' you gotta remember tha' giants've got a lo' of breeds, since mos' of 'em were shoved together in the same place."

"Diverse breeds are common in all dying out species, Hagrid. Look at Wizards. We've bred ourselves into the smallest pool possible of purebloods."

"Pureblood smureblood," grumbled Hagrid. "Don' mean nothing now."

"It means very much now, Hagrid. Blood is a status. Blood is a reason to die or kill. Blood is a reason to live."

"I don' understand tha'," Hagrid shook his mane of a head. "Blood is blood. Everyone's got it an' everyone needs it."

"I wish that were the case," Snape shook his head sadly and looked to the floor. Still now he was fighting his half-blood status. Still now he was referred to as half a wizard. Would that ever change? Would there ever be a day where people were, just, people?

"I think I need to get back to the castle, Hagrid. Classes will be starting soon."

Hagrid dipped his head in gratitude and then let the man walk himself back to the castle.

As he followed their previous dew footprints which were now slowly melting away, Snape couldn't help but wonder about blood. How it is spilt so easily. How it is given away so unnecessarily. How blood is the very last thing that is connected to magic.

Blood was not power. Magic was power. And magic was not connected to blood, was it? Magic was something deeper than proteins floating around in veins. It was something propelled from within. Deeper. Yes. Deeper than blood. Deeper than a physical being. Magic was will and strength and hope and...love? No. The Dark Lord had no love for anything, and yet he was inches away from holding the Magical community in his hands. Was love magic? Dumbledore seemed to think so.

Love. It was not something good. It was something ultimately bad. More evil than anything else. It was what drove people to die. It was what forced them to fight. It was what made people's lives miserable.

Snape halted. No. Love was not what made people's lives miserable. Love was what had made his life miserable.

But like Giants, surely love had different breeds too? Surely there was hope for those currently in love?

Then Snape realised it. It was something that he had not thought of before in Ginny's case. Ginny was just a child after all. But maybe...just maybe...Ginny hadn't just been tainted by evil down in the Chamber. Maybe she had been tainted by good too. By love.

A different breed of love. But love none the less.

With a sudden leap in his chest, Snape ran towards the castle and burst through the doors of the Great Hall. His eyes searched fruitlessly for any red heads at the red and gold table. There was Ron. There sat George and Fred, heads bent together with Lee Jordan. And. That was it. There weren't any other Weasleys at the table.

Walking silently up to the teacher's table, eyes still darting from the Gryffindore table the Great Hall's entrance, Snape couldn't help but wonder once again; what happened last night?

And, where was Ginny?

(A/N: Yet another chapter written and read! I must admit - writing Hagrid's speach was dreadfully difficult! Mainly because I had to imagine him saying everything in that accent of his. Living in South Africa, where the most I get is a really bad Afrikaans or Zulu tainted English, this was quite difficult! Anyway, let me know what you think! Wonderwhiterabbit hopping off!)