"I can here a voice from the other side of the room."
"It says yeah I live a lie because I like it more than the truth."
"I made my piece, I'm one with the war;"
"But here you are without any warning."
"I'm out of breath but I got to say, say, say, say;"
"Darling lately, I've been walking blind in the dark never seen the sun."
"You could save me."
"Give a little heat to the heart that was born to run."
"It was love in a minute, god I admit it."
"Let's make a break for the door."
"Be my baby."
"Keep me crazy."
"Whoa, oh, oh, uhh!"
Keep Me Crazy - Sheppard
The journey to Hogwarts was surprisingly uneventful, the train rumbling through the countryside as Severus and Regulus found an empty compartment. The rhythmic clattering of the tracks beneath them seemed to lull the older wizard into a contemplative silence. Regulus, however, was not about to let the quiet linger.
"Any idea what that dream was about?" he prodded, his pale eyes gleaming with curiosity even as his question had Severus' own dark eyes darting to him sharply.
"It's irrelevant. Just a dream."
Regulus chuckled. "Irrelevant? Snape, you've been brooding like a thunderbird that's been kicked out of the nest since this morning. And we both know you don't just dream for the fun of it," he stated with a knowing grin.
Severus sighed, leaning back against the seat. "It was... odd," he admitted, his eyebrows pinching together on his forehead in thought. "I can't remember all the details, just fragments; like the scattered pieces of a puzzle."
"Maybe it's a sign," Regulus offered, leaning forwards and his voice turning low as Severus just shot him another glare. "You can't deny you've been a bit of an arse lately, Severus. Ever since... well, you know," he continued, alluding to the incident with Lily that had fractured their friendship the year prior.
A scowl was all the younger wizard received in reply, however; memories of that fateful day flashing behind Severus dark eyes. The Marauders, Lily smiling before hurt and angry green eyes were glaring at him; reflecting back the very hatred he'd spilled forth in that singularly yet devastating word.
Mudblood...
It was such a simple yet vindictive 'pet' name that had severed the last remaining threads that connected him to the fiery-haired beauty that was Lily Evans.
"I know you got a lot on your mind, Snape," Regulus continued, his tone turning more serious. "But you really shouldn't let it consume you. You're starting your Seventh Year. Isn't it about time you focused on your future than that of a selfish bint who was seen snogging Potter at the Leaky last week?"
The scowl on Severus' lips remained. It was old news that Lily had been quick to hook up with the very wizard she'd called a toe-rag for the better part of six years, yet the bitterness still lingered within the teen; the knowledge that she'd somehow managed to forgive the arse of a boy who'd done nothing but torment him for his entire Hogwarts career, yet couldn't forgive one slip of the tongue - a single word said in a moment of anger...
Severus jerked his head in the affirmative, his resolve hardening with each passing moment. He knew Regulus was right. He had a future to focus on, a destiny that beckoned him forward, regardless of the ghosts that haunted his past.
The memory of Lily Evans - her fiery hair and emerald eyes - may indeed haunt him still; but they were nothing more a spectre of what could have been - what had ultimately been lost. Though as the Dark Mark itched beneath Severus's skin, a constant reminder of the path he had ultimately chosen, the sacrifices he had made, he let his gaze not linger on the past, but onto the future; toward the glimmer of hope - a spark of redemption that did light his way even on the darkest nights.
With Regulus by his side, Severus knew he could stepped into the unknown and face whatever trials awaited them both. The bitterness of his past would not define him. He would carve his own path, one step at a time, until the echoes of the yesterday faded into the shadows, and the promises of tomorrow were all that beckoned him onward.
Hogwarts bustled with its usual excitement and anticipation as students streamed into the Great Hall, their voices echoing off the stone walls adorned with glowing torches. The air was thick with the scent of enchanted candles and the promise of new beginnings as another sorting was about to begin; marking the start of another year within the castle's prestigious halls.
Along with the other Seventh Years, Severus took his usual seat at the Slytherin table, his dark eyes sweeping across the sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces that filled the hall. Among them, he caught a glimpse of Lily, her vibrant red hair a beacon amidst the sea of students that were crowded around the Gryffindor table. His gaze lingered for a moment before he tore his eyes away, the memories of their fractured friendship still fresh in his mind.
As the candles flickered and danced overhead, the Sorting Hat was placed upon the stool, its tattered brim casting shadows across the room. The murmur of the students, both new and old, faded into that of a hushed anticipation as the hat begun its melodic song, weaving tales of bravery, loyalty, knowledge, and ambition, and Severus couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting back to his own Sorting, the moment when the weight of destiny had seemed to settle upon his shoulders. He could recall the anticipation he'd felt, the uncertainty, and the vitally small whisper of hope that had lingered in his heart.
Yet he was drawn from his memories as, just as the Sorting Hat hesitated over where to place the last student, the doors of the Great Hall burst open with a dramatic flourish. A gust of wind swept through the hall, stirring the enchanted House banners that adorned the walls, and every head turned to see a figure standing in the doorway.
She was ethereal - a vision in silver and moonlight as her long platinum-blonde hair cascaded down her back like a shimmering waterfall. And her eyes, the colour of pale grey, sparkled with an otherworldly light as they scanned the room, a mixture of curiosity and determination shining in their depths.
The Professors all exchanged puzzled glances, eyebrows collectively raising in surprise at the unexpected arrival before the Headmaster cleared his throat and caused silence to descend once more upon the Great Hall.
The young woman in the doorway stepped into the hall with an air of confidence that bordered on regality. The silver hues of her hair seemed to shift and shimmer with each step, catching the attention of every eye in the room, and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, after recovering from her initial surprise, exchanged a curious glance with the other teachers behind her. But her gaze was drawn to the Headmaster, to the twinkle in his blue eyes and the look of recognition upon his features, as he rose from his chair.
"Ah, Miss Bluestone," he greeted the newcomer with a warm smile, his voice carrying across the hall and causing whispers to begin circulating through the students. "Welcome to Hogwarts. We've been expecting you."
Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed upon the Headmaster, though her attention was drawn back to Miss Bluestone as the teenager acknowledged the Headmaster's words with a graceful incline of her head; silver-grey eyes surveying the room even as she came to a stop before the Deputy Head.
"I thank you for having me, Headmaster," she spoke, her voice like an ethereal whisper that somehow resonated through the hall. However, and as her gaze shifted to Professor McGonagall and the Sorting Hat the elder witch did hold, a blend of curiosity, hesitation, and determination flickered across her features, and the Deputy couldn't help but feel some sympathy towards her.
"Students, Professors, and faculty, may I introduce Miss Pandora Bluestone, a Seventh-Year student who has chosen to join us at Hogwarts after six years of homeschooling. Please do make her feel welcomed."
The murmur of students, which had temporarily hushed, now resumed with a new wave of excitement and curiosity. Hogwarts had never had a transfer student before, and whispers begun to spread like wildfire, eyes following Pandora's every move as she approached the stool to be sorted.
"Definitely has to a be a Pureblood, but that name..." Severus heard another Slytherin mutter as they nudged their friend beside them, but the wizard couldn't draw his eyes away from the pale-haired witch, couldn't help but feel a prickling sense of anticipation climb its way up his spine and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. He watched the transfer student with avid interest, a strange mixture of curiosity and déjà vu settling over him.
It was as if he'd seen her somewhere before; not in the Great Hall, or even Hogwarts, but somewhere deep within the darkest recesses of his own thoughts - his memories.
As all eyes watched as Pandora sat herself down upon the three-legged, rickety stool before the Sorting Hat was descending onto her platinum-blonde hair. The Great Hall fell into an absolute silence, all awaiting for what the hat would decide, and after a moment that felt like an eternity, that really could have been seconds if any had a watch to check, the Sorting Hat declared, "Ravenclaw!"
A round of applause erupted, and the Ravenclaw table were quick to welcome Pandora into their midst with open arms as the enchanting silver and moonlight witch gracefully made her way to her new House, acknowledging the applause with a regal nod.
Severus, still grappling with the odd sense of familiarity he had felt, found himself torn between gratitude and a lingering sense of missed opportunity. Part of him wished Pandora had been sorted into Slytherin, hoping it would provide an easier path to get to know her. Yet, deep down, he knew it was probably for the best she hadn't ended up in the snake-pit, spared from the potential prejudices and expectations that came with the House of cunning ambition.
Although Hogwarts was a place the wizard had come to appreciate, Severus was acutely aware of its complexities. It wasn't just a school; it was a microcosm of the broader wizarding world, where not only snakes lurked in the grass but opportunistic wolves as well.
As the sorting ceremony came to an end, Severus's thoughts lingered on Pandora, her presence stirring something within him that he couldn't quite articulate. Despite the divide between their Houses, he couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were somehow destined to cross, and with a silent resolve, he vowed to keep a watchful eye over the witch, knowing that even in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, danger could lurk in the most unexpected places.
For now, he would bide his time, waiting for the moment when their fates would surely intertwine.
His wand was out - and so was hers. Yet Severus continued to stick to the shadows, continued to follow the pale-haired curiosity from a distance as Pandora made her way to what appeared to be the kitchens. His intrigue had grown into an almost outright obsession, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge - to know more about the enigmatic witch who had become the unexpected centre of his attention since the moment she'd stepped into the Great Hall.
The dimly lit corridor led Pandora past a portrait that caught Severus by surprise, however, as the usually quiet and stoic depiction painted within spoke; their voice slicing through the silence of the night and causing the young wizard to press himself against the wall in hopes he wouldn't be noticed as Pandora's steps slowed to a stop.
"Do you really think he won't notice?" Salazar Slytherin's painted voice echoed through the corridor, his tone carrying a mixture of amusement and challenge as his painted gaze watched the pale-haired witch come to a stop before his portrait.
The air was suddenly filled with an unspoken tension as the grip Pandora had on her wand tightened if for but a moment, and Severus couldn't help but feel a shiver crawl down his spine. Yet, and much to the hiding wizard's astonishment, the blonde turned to the painting, responding with a familiarity that seemed out of place for a transfer student.
More so when that transfer student had been homeschooled for six years...
"He notices more than you give him credit for," the witch stated, her voice confident yet laced with a touch of something not so easily deciphered.
The portrait regarded Pandora with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the canvas he'd been painted on. "And what makes you think you will be able to manipulate him so easily, my dear Bluestone?" Salazar questioned, eyes narrowing in scrutiny.
Pandora tilted her head slightly, regarding the portrait as a smirk begun to play upon her lips; something that was both familiar and not to Severus as he strained to listen from his hiding place. "Because, Slytherin, I know how to dance with snakes. I speak their language, and they, in turn, listen."
Severus struggled to hear more as his mind raced with questions. Who was this mysterious 'he' they were speaking about? And what connection did Pandora, a supposed homeschooled witch, have with one of the very Founders of Hogwarts - a wizard who had lived centuries ago?
However, as the pale-haired witch and source of his most current bout of confusion did continue, each word succeeded in sending a chill racing down Severus' spine.
"He won't even see it coming. I'll weave the threads of destiny, just as I always have, and by the time anyone realises, it'll be too late."
Yet surprisingly - and much to Severus' growing confusion - when Salazar replied, the portrait did so with an unbridled approval.
"You tread dangerous ground, Pandora," the Founder warned rather admirably. "But you underestimate the ties that bind, my dear, and the consequences could be rather severe," he continued with a voice that resonated through the dimly lit corridor and did echo with an ominous undertone.
"You know that consequences have never scared me, Salazar," Pandora chuckled, her laughter dancing through the air like an ethereal melody. "I thrive in the shadows, where secrets are born and destinies are shaped."
Severus, currently hidden in some of those very shadows, felt a surge of both fascination and trepidation. He couldn't comprehend the full extent of the conversation taking place, but he understood enough to know that Pandora not only possessed an in-depth knowledge of the Wizarding World, but knowledge of the very secrets of that world that went far beyond what any transfer student should possess. And as the conversation between Pandora and the portrait of Salazar Slytherin continued, the young wizard grappled with the conflicting emotions such revelations wrought.
He was utterly drawn to the mystery surrounding Pandora; where did she come from, what did she learn during her six years of homeschooling, had she been or done anything interesting (something other than hang out at a rundown and possible STD-riddled park with a supposed friend that had only hung around for what you could do for them)?
His curiosity had truly never burned brighter.
Yet, a nagging voice in his mind was screaming at him of the potential dangers that lurked within the light of the unknown.
"And what of Epime?"
"Epi-"
Severus' thoughts came to a screeching halt at the same time Pandora's silver eyes flickered with curiosity - and a subtle ripple of unease. "What does Epime have to do with my plans?" she asked, the name used carrying a weight of significance that stirred a shadow's shadow within the depths of the hiding wizard's heart.
Salazar's painted expression remained inscrutable, the lines of his portrait etched with ancient wisdom and foreboding. "Epime is but a pawn - has always been nothing more than a pawn in a game far greater than you could ever hope to fathom, my dear," he intoned cryptically. "And his actions have always had consequences, consequences that, even today, ripple through the very fabric of existence."
A frown creased Pandora's pale brow, her amusement fading into the darkness like a wisp of smoke. "And yet, are not consequences the harbingers of change?" she challenged, grey eyes narrowing upon the portrait. "Are you still so stuck in your ways that you cannot see that without change, there can be no growth - no victory?"
"My 'ways', as you so love to call them, have never allowed me to escape the repercussions of my actions. Have yours?" Salazar's gaze bore into Pandora with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the veil of time itself, and his words were measured; a deliberate vocalisation of the enigmatic threads that did weave their way through the pale-haired witch's heart, mind, and soul. "You cannot hope to escape the consequences of your actions, Pandora," he continued, his words heavy with a portentous gravity. "For you should know that the wolves have already been released, and they do so hunger for the taste of blood."
Pandora's breath caught in her throat, a shiver coursing through her slender frame. "The wolves?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath of air. "What do you mean? What has Epime done?!"
Salazar's eyes gleamed with a knowing glint, the flicker of torchlight casting eerie shadows across his painted features. "You know as well as I do, Pandora," he murmured, his voice a haunting echo in the stillness of the corridor. "With the wolves unleashed, it won't be long until he realises his own destiny."