The Raven

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting new chapters. Part of the delay was due to Hurricane Katrina. I was trapped at the New Orleans Convention Center, and to answer your question before you ask: yes, every bad thing you heard was TRUE! I was then evacuated to Arkansas (not by choice; not even the pilot knew where we would land). As for our lovely Snape... ohhhh, I got so pissed at the end of the sixth book! So I decided that my story will not follow canon, even though I had wanted to keep close to it... Nope, can’t do that now! I’ll have to keep up with the story plot as originally planned.

Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I would not still be in Arkansas.


Severus Snape sat behind his desk, trying to stop the bleeding of his now broken nose. He stopped holding the cloth to his nose when he noticed that the bleeding had finally stopped, but the pain still lingered along with his anger at Harry Bloody Potter. If Hermione hadn’t take their wands when she did, there would have been casualties.

He took out a small silver mirror to examine his face. Sighing deeply, he started to use his wand to fix his nose when a soft knock came at his door.

“Enter,” he uttered in an angry tone. He hated being disturbed when he had to deal with something he didn’t want to deal with in the first place.

Looking up, he saw Hermione Granger standing there, holding a damp clean cloth in her hand.

“Go away,” he snarled as he once again picked up his wand and mirror.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” she said softly when she noticed what he was about to do. She quietly walked up to him and removed the mirror from his hand.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?” He glared at her and tried to retrieve his mirror that she kept just out of reach. He gave her a cold glare so she would take the hint and leave him alone, but she only smiled sweetly at him.

“Did you? I didn’t quite catch that, sorry,” she said as she lifted the clean cloth to his face to wipe off the dried blood.

Snape quickly reached up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her from finishing. He leaned closer to her in a threatening manner, as his eyes locked with hers.

“I do not need your or anyone’s help, Miss Granger!”

Even though his voice was cold, it still felt like dark silk sliding across her skin. Hermione swallowed hard, trying to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. She prayed that he didn’t notice the jump in her heart rate, since his fingertips now rested on her inner wrist, burning every atom of her skin where he was touching.

“I . . . I know. That is why I’m helping.” Suddenly becoming shy, she lowered her gaze to look anywhere but in his penetrating eyes. Unfortunately, her gaze only went as far as his lips.

“Are you telling me you wanted to help me ‘because’ I don’t want help? How very Gryffindor of you.” He sneered.

Hermione didn’t even hear his words. She was aware of only the silky texture of his voice, and the sensual movements of his mouth.

Snape noticed all this, as well as the suddenly rapid beating of her pulse beneath his fingertips. Disgusted at his own lack of control, he still found himself staring at her lips in turn.

“Well, Miss Granger?” he whispered as he leaned closer to her.

“Hmmm?” Her gaze still locked onto his lips; only on a basic level did she even know he had spoken to her. All she wanted to know was whether his lips were warm or hard, soft or cold; and mostly, what did they taste like?

She had to know. As if pulled by an invisible force, she leaned closer to him, as at the same time he leaned closer to her. Both of them were only a breath away from unlocking all the mysterious knowledge that was held within a single kiss.

Hermione half-closed her eyes and took an airless breath in anticipation. Snape tried to reason with himself why this should not be happening, but all thought left his mind as he heard her whispered breath. All he wanted to do was crush his lips to hers, and just before that last inch, all his control broke.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Snape and Hermione jumped back and away from each other, as if burned. They were looking at each other wide-eyed, and breathing hard from the sudden intrusion of reality.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Taking a deep breath, Hermione moved to the front of his desk as he called out.

“Enter!” His voice was harsh and angry, not only with the interloper but also at himself. He had almost kissed a student, for Merlin’s sake!

Madam Pomfrey came bustling into the Potions master’s office.

“I just ran into Albus,” she said as she stormed up to Snape. Looking down at his desk, she saw his mirror, wand and a bloody cloth. She put her fingers under his chin and made him turn his face to and fro, as she would have done to a reluctant child.

“Well, I see I have come just in time to prevent you from trying to mend your broken nose yourself . . . again, and we both know how that went last time.”

“Last time?” Hermione questioned.

“Yes, last time.” The school nurse picked up the clean cloth and smelled the mixture of herbs that clung to it. “Your doing, I take it,” she said, looking at Hermione.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey.”

The older witch only nodded, and turned back to Severus.

“Well, Severus, let’s get this over with. The sooner you stop squirming, the sooner I’m done with you.”

“Woman, I do NOT squirm” he snapped at her, as she took her wand out of her apron pocket.

“Don’t you ‘Woman’ me! I have been patching you up most of your entire life. Now shut up and sit still.” Her recalcitrant patient had a demanding and take-charge personality, but right now she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Madam Pomfrey expertly performed a few examination spells, making sure there was no internal damage, before she fixed his broken nose.

“There now, all done. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Snape only grunted as an answer.

“Come along, Miss Granger; nothing to do here now, and it’s also curfew. If I remember correctly, you do not have patrol this evening, so off to your dormitory, and we shall leave this grumpy man to his own devices.”

~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sat before Professor Dumbledore’s huge desk, waiting for the Headmaster to arrive. He looked around anxiously, trying to calm his nerves. There were fewer gadgets and gizmos then before his temper tantrum a few years back. Sighing, he gave himself a few moments to feel guilty for his actions that day.

A gold glimmer caught his eye, and he got up to investigate. The glimmer was from a frame that was covered in a black cloth, so it almost looked like the shadow itself.

With a gentle push, the cloth easily slipped off to settle into a pool on the floor, revealing a gold-leaf frame; it was nice, but nothing too special. The frame was only about one square foot; and if it was hanging on the wall, Harry doubted if anyone would even see it there.

His curiosity was growing by the minute. What was it about this mirror that made it so special that it was not only in the Headmaster’s office, but ‘hidden’ in the Headmaster’s office?

About then, another idea hit him about the mirror. The glass was black, and upon closer inspection he couldn’t see his reflection within it. ’What kind of mirror doesn’t give off any kind of reflection,’ he thought to himself.

Before he could even think of moving away from the mirror, his mind was caught up in a series of memories.

The first memory was of a flash of deadly green light, and a scream that he knew to be his mother’s; grief washed over him so strongly that he was amazed that he was still standing. The second memory that came was when his cousin Dudley and his gang would chase him down the street, while Harry was living with the Dursleys. Then, before the angry feeling overcame him, another memory came, this one more pleasant. It was the day Hagrid came to tell him that he was a wizard and he was going to a new life, then the memories of when he first met Ron and Hermione. The memories were rapidly hitting him one after another, each emotion blending into the next, to the point of feverish pitch. Breathing hard, Harry wondered if he could take much more of this.

“I think that is enough for now, Harry,” a soft voice came to him, as the spell was broken when the black cloth was placed over the mirror once again.

Shaking his head, Harry turned to see the Headmaster looking at him with an indescribable look.

Feeling guilty for being caught doing something he wasn’t suppose to do yet again, he hung his head and went back to his seat before Dumbledore’s desk.

Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and templed his fingers, never taking his eyes off Harry.

“Well, Harry, it seems that again we find ourselves wondering what to do with you,” he said sadly.

“I’m sorry about the mirror sir, I . . . I didn’t know what it was.”

“Yes, well, it was hidden back there for a reason, Harry. If you had looked into it too long, your spirit and your mind would have been sucked into it.”

Harry gasped, shocked that such a simple mirror could be so dangerous.

“But that is not all that I was talking about, Harry.” He gave him a pointed look over his moon-shaped glasses. “I’m sure you know what I’m speaking of”

“Snape,” Harry said the name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Professor Snape, Harry. Please kindly remember that.” Though Dumbledore’s voice was soft, there was a cold demanding undercurrent.

“Yes, sir, but it sounded like he was killing her; that scream sounded so painful! What should I have done, just leave her there?”

“No, Harry, that is not what I’m saying. It is good that you would come to a friend’s aid when you think they are in peril, but you MUST work on your reactions… you MUST learn to ‘respond’ to situations, not just ‘react’ blindly.”

Sighing deeply, Harry didn’t quite know how to respond. He knew that he had overreacted, and by all circumstances he should be expelled.

“Now, Harry, what do you think your punishment should be?”

“Well, I guess if I were you, I would expel me.”

“Do you wish to be expelled, Harry?”

“No, sir, I do not.”

“Then why do you always get into situations that force my hand to do just that? Do you know how many of my own rules I have had to break to keep you within these walls?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Far too many, but that is neither here nor there.” Dumbledore motioned his hand as if he was dismissing the subject like a pesky fly of no consequence.

“I am not going to expel you, Harry.”

Harry looked up in shock and relief, even though he knew that Dumbledore wouldn’t send him back to the Dursleys’ so soon; he knew they needed him to defeat Lord Voldemort, a task which they all believed that only he could do. This gave him a little more leeway to get what he wanted, not that he abused it too badly, or so he believed.

“But your actions today will not go unpunished.”

Many ideas ran though Harry’s mind on what that punishment would be. Perhaps a life sentence of working for Filch, or having Quidditch taken away from him. Or having to clean all the school bathrooms with his toothbrush. . . without magic. That idea came from a Muggle show he saw on TV during the summer.

“Have you ever heard of the saying ‘let the punishment fit the crime,’ Harry?”

“Y-yes, sir… Umm, does that mean that you’re going to let Snape hit me, sir?”

“No, Harry.” Dumbledore gave a little chuckle. “What I am going to suggest is that you remain here after graduation.”

Harry’s face broke out in a wide grin.

“But before you get too happy, you have to go under extreme training. Some of the professors and I even invited a few more instructors to join us. You will be going though your toughest training to date.”

Harry nodded, looking forward to what he thought would be what he had wanted since the beginning.

“But sir, may I ask why that would be a punishment?”

“Well, you see, Harry, I am going to be gone for about a month or more during the summer; the information of where and why is not of your concern. The next person in line to oversee Hogwarts would be Professor McGonagall, but she is accompanying me on this trip. That leaves Professor Snape, who will be in authority.”

Harry’s jaw hit the floor. “But, but sir, how can you trust him? With you gone and Snape in control, Voldemort would take over Hogwarts easily.”

“I am not going to tell you again; it’s PROFESSOR SNAPE. Now, Harry, I trust Professor Snape even more than I trust you. And you WILL follow his instructions as if they were my own, is that clear?” The Headmaster’s voice did not leave room for arguments.

“Yes, sir, very clear.” Harry’s face was downcast in despair from the very thought of spending the summer under his most hated professor.

“But you will not be alone. Miss Granger has decided to postpone going to college to remain and train as well. The Weasley clan will also be around from time to time. They all will not be here all the time, but they too are going though the vigorous training sessions this summer as well.”

Harry cheered up a little bit, but then another thought came to him. . .

“I feel there is something more here, sir.”

“Very perceptive of you, Harry. Yes, as punishment you will be an assistant of sorts to the professor in command. This means you MUST do what they tell you to do. So if Professor Snape wants you to wash the bathrooms with your toothbrush without magic, you will do so without complaint.”

In shock, Harry looked at Dumbledore’s sparking blue eyes. . . ‘How does he do that?!’ thought Harry. ‘It’s too creepy.’

“Oh, yes - before I forget, you will also help with
some less then desirable tasks for Madam Pomfrey. We
will discuss this later; you are free to return to
your dormitory, and Harry - no detours this time,
please.” With that, he turned to some paperwork on his
desk.

Harry knew that this was all the Headmaster was going
to say. He counted his lucky stars that he was not
going to be expelled, even though it was so close to
final exams.


A/N: I would like to thank June the ohhh Great and Powerful (not to mention patient) Bata on the planet! Also a BIG thanks to all my friends that reviewed! Thank you for your patients and understanding. This chapter is for all of you!