Ival Pythonica

A/N: I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, etc. They are all the property of J.K. Rowling. For no profit of any kind, I am simply borrowing her characters for a short while. Only the Original Character of Megan Malfoy is my own, though her last name
is borrowed from J.K. Rowling.

While Megan sat by the lake with Lupin, others were inside Hogwarts discussing her fate . . .

******
“It is Ival Pythonica? Are you sure Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

Snape starred out the window at the inky night sky, Megan’s visions floating before his eyes.

He faced away from Dumbledore and McGonagall for a moment to gather his thoughts and steady his expression to betray no emotions about Megan. Those he would sort out later in the privacy of his rooms . . . alone. Taking a deep breath, face composed, Snape
turned back to Dumbledore.

“Positive.” His voice had a slight undertone of worry and anger.

“How can you be sure?” McGonagall asked.

She stood by the large fireplace, her hand clutching the collar of her green night robes, an alarmed look on her face.

“I have once witnessed the execution of this curse by the Dark Lord.”

“Please explain, Severus.” Dumbledore leaned forward, chin balancing on his tented fingers.

Snape tightened his lips and rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. After another deep breath, he looked up at Dumbledore.

“The Dark Lord was curious how long his followers could stay awake if a long battle ensued and how long their magical strength would last. He picked a female Death Eater who had been a particular . . . disappointment to him . . . and cursed her with Ival Pythonica. His contract, which I was ordered to take dictation of, required that she go without sleeping. However, he had no interest in freeing her of the contracted curse. So, he required the stipulation for her freedom be that she must turn against him in order to ever sleep again, which he knew as a loyal worshiper, she would never do. She would rather die serving him than turn against him. She slowly became more and more exhausted, until she could no longer stand. She simply laid at his feet at every gathering and he would question her. He inquired how she felt each day and more importantly, tested her magical skills at every opportunity. She and her magic became weaker and weaker. By the middle of the third week, she could no longer speak or even lift her wand to cast a simple spell or defend herself from attack. From that point on, The Dark Lord kept her on a dais in his inner chambers and watched her carefully to see how she was . . . deteriorating. Soon, she slipped into comma and he lost interest, leaving her there to her . . . fate.” Snape said coldly and grimly, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

Snape turned towards the window again, closing his eyes. He suddenly had an image of Megan Malfoy lying on that same cold metal dais, eyes closed, breathing swallow, limbs limply dangling off the dais, skin white as a sheet, blonde hair splayed out behind her, dim and dingy. He shook his head against the ghastly image and closed his eyes tighter, trying not to see the picture swimming in front of his eyes. Suddenly, Dumbledore coughed, clearing his throat. Snape turned back around.

“What was her fate?” McGonagall inquired, practically shaking.

Snape starred at her coldly, his voice like solid ice.

“Death.”

“Merlin!” McGonagall exclaimed. “Megan cannot fall to the same fate as that young woman!”

“No, she cannot.” Snape stated, his lips tightening in anger.

“I can assure you both I will do everything in my power to make sure Megan Malfoy DOES NOT receive a similar fate. Moreover, I know the unfortunate details of Ival Pythonica and have begun searching for the person or persons responsible for her current state, the book they used, and their contract.”

Dumbledore stood and walked over to a glass cabinet, which with a wave of his hand, a series of locks behind the glass clicked open. He carefully reached inside the cabinet and gingerly grabbed a large, shiny, black book with a silver binding. With the utmost care, Dumbledore turned and walked back behind his desk, setting down the book as if it would break at the slightest touch. He had a grimace on his face as he grabbed a handkerchief and sat down.

“Albus, are you alright?” Snape came to his side, reaching for his hands.

“I will survive. But if you would not mind healing my hands?” He held out his hands, bleeding from what looked like cuts from large rose thorns.

“Albus!” McGonagall quickly came to his side with her own wand.

“It is just an unfortunate side effect of touching the book. I would heal it myself but my left hand is not, I fear, as good with my wand as the left.” He said with slight chuckle, flinching a little as McGonagall healed his left hand and Snape healed the right.

After they were finished healing Dumbledore’s hands, they all starred tentatively at the book. It was glinting in the candlelight of his office. The cuts on Dumbledore’s hands were quickly explained by looking closer at the cover. It was coated entirely in sharp dragon scales, silver on the binding, black on the cover, except for the title, which was red dragon scales. The title suddenly shimmered brighter as Snape read the title of the tome out loud.

“Rare Dark Spells, Potions, and Curses.”

“Where on Earth did you find this book, Albus?” McGonagall starred at it in wonder and disgust.
“I inherited.” He simply shrugged.

Snape raised his left eyebrow at Dumbledore, his voice full of disbelief.

“You inherited it? From whom would you inherit such a foul item?”

“From the last Headmaster, as he inherited it from his predecessor, and so on.” Dumbledore’s tone was very matter-of-fact.

“Since when do Hogwarts Headmasters pass down Dark Arts books, especially one of this ilk?”

“It is has been since the beginning of time, Severus, for situations just as this one. Such details do not matter at this time. Just be glad, Severus, that I have an available copy. ”

Snape opened his mouth to say something but Dumbledore gave him a look that said Snape should leave the subject alone.

“That’s all well and fine,” McGonagall began, waving her arm in the air, “but how does THIS book help us find the book that cursed MEGAN?”

She huffed, crossing her arms. McGonagall gave Dumbledore an angry and questioning look.

“Through a series of spells and combination of magical power, it will give us the answers we seek.” He smiled.

“Albus, I do not mean to question your knowledge, however, a dark book giving up secrets that easily?" Snape looked at him oddly.

“Yes, it is possible Severus. There are five copies of this book in existence; all made at the exact same time, each a duplicate of the original, duplicated by magical printing. Therefore, the original can locate any or all of the other four with the proper power and spell.” He reached for his wand. “Please take up your wands; I need three wizards to execute this spell.”

“But Albus, how do you know that is the original?” McGonagall wondered.

McGonagall grabbed her wand as Snape did the same.

“You shall see.” Dumbledore whispered.

Dumbledore gestured with a tap of his wand at each of the four corners while announcing:

“I am of purest blood. Please reveal your secrets to me.”

The book slowly opened, the heavy cover making surprisingly no sound as it hit Dumbledore’s desk. McGonagall and Snape scanned the title page. She gasped and he scoffed.

“That’s why I know.” Dumbledore said, using his wand to point to a name.

“Now it all makes sense.” Snape muttered, sarcastically.

Written on the first page, under the title, was the name of the original owner and creator. In curvy script was written: “Salazar Slytherin, Creator of Slytherin House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland.”

“So, where are the other four copies?” Snape said without looking up from the book.

“One copy was produced for each of the four creators of Hogwarts and the original bequeathed by Salazar Slytherin to the first ever Headmaster. It was, as I said before, to be passed down to each subsequent Headmaster for knowledge in case of emergency. The other four copies were supposed to be passed down through each wizarding family or, if thought to be in danger of malicious use, turned over to a safe party such as the Ministry of Magic. However, over the hundreds of years the copies fell into dark hands. The copy in Voldemort’s possession along with two other copies has since been recovered. They are now housed in the Ministry of Magic. I already explained how I acquired my copy, which is registered with the Ministry. The last book’s whereabouts have yet to be disclosed. The Ministry believes it is because the book and its location are carefully magically concealed. No raids to date have recovered it nor given hints to its whereabouts.” He shrugged again.

“But why not use this volume to recover the last one?” Snape huffed in anger. “Then Megan could have been spared this unfortunate curse?”

“As you witnessed by the injury to my hands, it is a very dangerous book to touch, let alone open. The Ministry felt it would eventually recover the last book and wanted to avoid my copy from being used.”

“Sounds like something Fudge would say . . . bumbling idiot.” Snape hissed.

“Why would Fudge think it dangerous to do? Well, other than the obvious.” McGonagall gestured to Dumbledore’s hands.

“Frankly, because we are not as of yet, quite sure the depth of the book’s power and what side effects come from reading or using this volume. It was thought this book, the original was the most potent of the five, was the most dangerous. The presumption was wrong, I am afraid.”

“Why, dare I ask, was the presumption wrong?” Snape inquired.

“As the Ministry recovered the second, third, and fourth editions, they discovered each was more powerful than the one before. This is rare. Usually when a dark book, such as this one, is copied, each volume has less potency or power than the predecessor. However, in the case of this tome, each copy became stronger than the one it was copied from and its predecessors combined. The fifth book is the volume missing, as we all know. It is believed to be stronger than the original by five times and because it was never copied into a sixth, as the others were copied, it holds even greater power. Any power the fifth book might have passed on is still held within its pages, along with the quintupled power. This is a grievous problem . . .”

Dumbledore trailed off, as he saw the shock on McGonagall and Snape’s faces.

“Maybe I missed something in all my years of Dark Arts but what could be more ‘grievous’ than what you already said?” Snape’s tone was sarcastic and biting.

“It is grievous, Severus, because the book that cursed Megan Malfoy has not only the power of five of these books,“ Dumbledore gestured to the tome on his desk “but it’s pages still contain every drop of that power. Duplicating it would have zapped some of its power. No duplication, no loss of power. I fear, if I am correct, that the book used to curse Megan Malfoy is the strongest Dark Arts book still available to human or wizarding hands. Moreover, if a wizard knows how to use its power, it makes any spell . . .”

“. . . the most potent and deadly curse possible to cast, other than an Unforgivable.” Snape whispered in disbelief, his voice trembling slightly.

Snape looked at McGonagall who was pasty white and trembling herself. He just blinked, wide-eyed in realization, face pale, mouth partly open. He could no longer hide his fear about Megan’s fate.

However, McGonagall swallowed hard and stood up to full height, summoning all her courage.

“Well, we opened it. What now?” McGonagall asked as a slight shiver she could not contain ran through her.

“All three of us have to point our wands at the title page, keeping Megan in mind. The book will know what to do and an incantation will appear. I need all three of us to say the incantation at the same time. The book should then reveal the exact location of the fifth book, the location of its last contract, the names involved, and where the owner or original curser is now.”

He placed the tip of his wand on the page.

“Let’s get this over with.” Snape stated, placing his wand tip on the page directly next to Dumbledore’s.

McGonagall just nodded and placed her wand tip on the page opposite of Dumbledore’s wand, and then she jumped. Red, curvy words had appeared on the top of the page. It knew, as Dumbledore had said, by the touch of their wands their intention.

“On my count of three, say loudly the words that just appeared but with all the inner strength you can muster, while picturing Megan. Ready? One . . . two . . . three!”

“FIND THE OWNER OF THE BOOK THAT HAS MANAGED,
WITH YOUR TWIN TO DO THIS MALICIOUS DAMAGE,
FIND THE CONTRACT WRITTEN AGAINST THIS GIRL
LET THE MYSTERY OF HER DEADLY FATE UNFURL!”

The book jumped and spun wildly. All three wizards jumped backwards as the book rose and spun violently above Dumbledore’s desk. A howling wind suddenly blew through the room, nearly knocking the three wizards over. Objects flew across Dumbledore’s office, knocked from their tables and magically suspended places. It blew out the candles and the fireplace.

For a moment there was nothing but darkness and howling wind. Everyone closed their eyes against the strong wind, grabbing onto whatever was available. Dumbledore managed to grip his desk chair, while McGonagall and Snape were both thrown backwards. McGonagall landed on her backside on the stone floor. Snape had crashed into a pillar. He reached behind himself, grabbing the pillar, holding on for dear life.

Without warning, the wind stopped and there was silence, causing all three wizards to open their eyes. The room was cast into an eerie, bright, red glow.

Dumbledore stepped forward first, closely followed by McGonagall and Snape. The book hung in mid air; the title page now had a glowing red border, spindly, large, red words scribbled across the old, dry parchment. A dark voice read the page aloud, lighting up each word in red neon as it was pronounced. All three wizards listened and read along, silently.

“I HAVE THE ANSWERS YOU NOW DESPERATELY MUST SEEK,
THE OWNER IS A MAN, EVIL, CUNNING, OLD, BUT VERY MEEK.
NO, ALAS, IT IS NOT HIM WHO HAS DONE THIS TERRIBLE DEED,
IT IS HIS DAUGHTER AND HER FRIENDS WHOM YOU WILL NEED.
IT IS THESE SLYTHERIN ELDERS WHO CAST THIS CRUEL CHARM,
WITH THE IVAL PYTHONICA THEY WISHED TO DO GREAT HARM.
GO TO THE LIBRARY IN THE MANOR OF THE CRAFTY KENNINGS,
THERE YOU WILL FIND MY TWIN WHICH WILL BE VERY WILLING.
HER CHARM SURRENDERS THE CONTRACT IN TERRIFIC HATE MADE,
THIS CONTRACT WILL STATE THE ORDERS THE GIRLS HAVE BADE.
ANNA KENNINGS IS THE ONE TO GIVE THE SECRET BINDING CHARM,
TO KEEP MY TWIN SAFE FROM THOSE WHO WOULD STOP ITS HARM.
THIS MUST BE DONE QUICKLY TO BEGIN THE CURSE’S MENDING,
OR MEGAN MALFOY’S LIFE WILL, NO DOUBT, SOON BE ENDING!”

The book then spun violently again, red light illuminating the room. The howling wind returned for a moment, stronger this time. Dumbledore grabbed onto his desk, McGonagall grabbed onto Dumbledore, but Snape was knocked backwards once again. This time he landed on the floor, sliding backward into the base of the same pillar. All shut their eyes tightly, waiting for what would happen next. However, as suddenly as it started again, it was over.

A loud smacking sound echoed through the room which made the three wizards open their eyes. The book had landed on Dumbledore’s desk. The fireplace and candle were blazing again, as if nothing had happened. Everyone starred at the book.

With a loud boom, like the sound of thunder, the book shut itself.

“Anna Kenning.” Snape growled.

Standing up, but not bothering to brush off his robes, he quickly strode from the room.
Dumbledore took the book back to its glass cabinet and shut the doors with a bloody wave of his hand. The other side of the glass clicked several times. McGonagall rushed to heal his bleeding hands. She brushed off his robes, straightened them and began to smooth his beard. Dumbledore grabbed both her hands and smiled at her softly, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips.

“My dear, please don’t fuss, I am fine now. I must contact the Ministry immediately to obtain the book.” He rushed over to his fireplace and grabbed some floo powder.

“You’re going to the Ministry at this hour? Can it not wait until dawn at least? What about Anna Kenning and the others? What shall we do with them until you return?”

“You and Severus will round up Anna and the other Slytherin Seventh Years. Bring them to my office immediately and wait. I will return with the book as soon as I can. I feel I must go directly to the Ministry, even at this late hour. An owl to the Ministry will not get the book soon enough. We need it in our possession as soon as possible and a raid of the Kenning Manor will require many hands and wands. In the mean time, I suggest you run after Severus and assist him in gathering the girls, since he cannot enter their dormitory. Besides, I fear his love for Megan may override his sense of duty as a professor.”

“Of course I will, Albus. Anything I can do for this poor girl, I will.”

She began to walk away but suddenly turned back towards him, a confused look on her face.

“Snape is in love with Megan Malfoy!?” She was completely startled.

“Sometimes, my darling, there are things I see and know that others do not. Those who have the situation starring them in the face have a tendency to miss the details.” He winked.

McGonagall smiled, recalling being unaware of her own love for Albus because it, too, was starring her in the face. That is, until he pointed it out.

“Don’t say anything! They must discover it on their own. Knowing how stubborn Severus is and how moral Megan is, I have a feeling bring it to their attention would ruin things. Love, as with nature, has to take a course. In time they will see what I do and what you may now see with this knowledge. It is now more important than ever that you hurry. Severus will lose his temper at the girls because they have hurt Megan. He needs to handle this as quietly and professionally as possible, even if she is in VERY deep trouble.”

McGonagall tightened her lips in a disgusted and angry grimace. She nodded seriously and turned, running from the room.

******
Meanwhile, Snape had made it all the way to the Slytherin Common Room at almost a run. He spat the password at the brick wall and the wall melted quickly before him. He stormed into the Common Room and walked over to the entrance to the Girl’s Dormitory. His face bright red with rage, he banged on the door and bellowed, nearly waking the entire Slytherin House.

“ALL OF THESLYTHERIN SEVENTH YEARS! GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT! THAT INCLUDES YOU, MISS KENNING!”

Squeaks were heard from the other side and the clamor of people moving around. Snape backed away from the door, fuming. The wall behind Snape dissolved as McGonagall stepped through to enter the Slytherin Common Room. She strode over to Snape’s side, the look of disgust and anger having returned to her face.

The door opened and Anna Kenning, with an innocent smile walked out, followed by the other five Seventh Year girls. They stood there; Britney OcMaken and Alison Courtney looked wide-eyed with fear. Meredith Hallent shuffled her feet, while starring at the floor. Only Anna Kennings and Gina Martin were smiling, hands folded neatly in front of them.

“You wanted to see us, Professor Snape?” Anna asked her voice falsely sugar-sweet.

“Your damn right I do!” He bellowed.

“Professor Snape!” Gina said, grabbing her chest and raising her eyebrows incredulously. ‘Whatever have we done wrong?”

“That’s enough with the dramatics. You know full well what you have done.” McGonagall warned, her dark tone almost rivaling Snape’s.

“And what,” Anna said batting her eyelashes, “have we done so wrong?”

Snape loomed in closer to her, his face barely inches from hers. Yet, Anna didn’t flinch.

“Ival Pythonica ring a bell, Miss Kenning?” His tone was icy and sarcastic.

“Oh, that!” Anna grinned widely. “So, you finally noticed something was wrong with your Potions Pet?” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you going to save her? Be her knight in shining armor?”

Anna laughed heartily and walked past Snape and McGonagall, plopping down into an armchair by the fireplace.

“Well, dear Professor Snape, I am afraid it is too late for your sweetheart. She’s got 8 days left. In fact, she will probably be in a comma by Christmas. It will make for quite a sad Holiday Season, I’m afraid. But you are very accustomed to wearing black, so it shouldn’t be too taxing on you”

Gina laughed heartily now.

“Yes and poor Professor Lupin!” She said clutching a hand to her heart and placing a hand on her brow in mock despair. “Whatever will he do when his lady love is gone?”

She walked over and leaned on the edge of the armchair Anna sat in.

“Maybe take to screwing dogs, I hear they are as close to humans and werewolves as one can find.” Anna said, shrugging.

The two girls fell into fits of hysterical laughing.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Snape hollered, shaking with fury.

“You will come with us, all of you, to Professor Dumbledore’s office. He will return shortly. He will be accompanied by Aurors. The Ministry Officials in the Dark Arts Department will, I am sure, have many questions for you.”

McGonagall announced, ushering everyone toward the door.

“Oh, I see. Is he going to attempt to find the book? Even if the Headmaster is able to retrieve the volume, he cannot open it without my help. If you think I am giving you anything to help the situation, you are sadly mistaken. You cannot force the answers out of me and it takes at least five days for the LEGAL use of Veritaserum to be decreed. She’ll be too far gone by then. You can try all you like, but she’s as good as dead.” Anna grinned, a dark mischievous smile.

Snape grabbed her roughly by the arm and started to drag her toward the door.

“Unhand me! A Professor can’t manhandle a student like this! I will have you fired! Let go of me you over-grown bat!” Anna squealed.

Snape stopped at the threshold and turned, starring her in the face. His eyes were flashing with anger, his teeth bared, and lips tightened so hard, they were nearly white.

“Over-grown bat? If you remember Miss Kenning, I was in the same group of Death Eaters as your father and I can assure you . . .” He smirked, face twitching. “I do not need Veritaserum to retrieve answers from anyone. Furthermore, I do not need a potion to make someone do what I want.” His voice snarled at her in a whisper.

Anna laughed in his face, eyes twinkling.

“You can’t do anything to harm a student. You could be arrested for retrieving information through illegal means. The Ministry can’t do it either.”

“No, they cannot hurt a student. However, I have a feeling by the time they’re done with you will have a cell right next to dear old dad.”

“Azkaban doesn’t scare me!” Anna declared as her head rose in defiance.

Snape merely backed his face away and shrugged.

“From what I hear, the Dementors love youthful, sweet, young women, like you. There is always so much happiness to feed off of and so much despair to inflict when it comes to the young. They are so easily . . . broken.” Snape purposely annunciated the last word sharply, as if imitating the word itself.

“They can’t send us to Azkaban! We’re just young girls! It’s never been done!" Britney squeaked.

“It’s been done, just not recently. You girls are in more trouble than you ever dreamed.” McGonagall snapped at them.

All the girls over heard this and quaked from head to toe, walking after McGonagall. Anna and Gina, with no sign of fear, only triumph, were pushed by Snape to follow after the others. He followed behind the group to make sure nobody tried anything smart.
Suddenly, he felt a distinctive pull on his being. He turned and looked back into the Slytherin Common Room.

There stood Megan at the doorway to the Girls Dormitory, her face white as a sheet, her body shaking. She leaned against the door frame and slid down to the floor. Her face was a map of shock, horror and disgust. He locked eyes with her, Megan’s eyes said everything. She was scared and helpless, alone. She began to sob as the wall reformed, closing off the doorway to the room. Even after it closed Snape stared at the stones, as if he could still see her face and could distantly hear her crying. The sound was gut-wrenching to Snape, worse than any torture he ever experienced.

Snape swallowed and sighed heavily, realizing something horrible.

She had heard and seen the whole thing.

As he walked down the hallway, after the girls, the look in Megan’s eyes continued to haunt him.

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