Shadows of the Past

A/N All Hail J.K. Rowling author extraordinaire – we’re just borrowing your people for a bit. No money crossed our palms

Chapter 5

The dream team had just finished their classes and were heading to the Great Hall. The day had not been bad, with the usual exception of Divination, where Prof. Trelawney had again predicted Harry’s imminent death as well as other disasters.

Their last class had been DADA, with the next successor to the teacher’s position, Professor Al Amir. Professor Al Amir was tall and dark with the swarthy complexion common to those from North Africa. He spoke with a heavy accent, which could have placed his ancestry from any one of a number of countries but no one knew for sure where his roots lay.

Today, Professor Al Amir announced that his classes would host a special guest, a former pupil of his. The guest would bring with them a very rare and exotic animal, an Azor. This wondrous creature was the source of much magical power. Like the Phoenix, the Azor could heal those close to death and sooth the souls of the tormented. However, more importantly, within the creature there was harnessed such magic that a knowing and talented wizard with the ability, could channel and direct the power for his own use either light or dark. A Wizard without the skills and latent talent could die in the attempt.

A ripple of excitement washed over the class. Even the normally jaded Slytherins perked up in their seats in anticipation.
The animal in question, an Azor, resembled a unicorn but was black with wings and icy blue-grey coloured eyes. This animal could be the most powerful familiar a wizard might ever have or be his damnation. It all depended on the aura of magic surrounding the witch or wizard and how the magical creature first perceived it. The Azor was very temperamental and could be either brutal or kind. He was unique in a world of incredible creatures.

To prepare for this visit, the Professor assigned an essay to be no shorter than eight feet of parchment, on the characteristics of the Azor, how the creature had been used in the past and the safety precautions required in handling the animal. The resulting groans of protest from the class were somewhat more muted that usual due to the general excitement surrounding the forthcoming visit.
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At dinner in the Great Hall, Harry surveyed the Head Table as had become his custom. He noticed that Professor Snape was again leaving earlier than usual. He walked briskly out the teacher’s door with a deeper than usual scowl on his face, his left forearm clasped to his chest. Harry thought he caught expression of pain on the professor’s face.

“Hey ‘Mione, Snape just left! I think he was called!” whispered Harry

“I noticed Harry, but we better not speak of it in here. We’ll talk in the common room.” said Hermione in low voice.

Hurriedly finishing their dinner, the three friends headed to the Gryffindor Tower.

Later in the evening, by the fire, the three friends sat in their favourite chairs talking in low voices, about Harry’s dreams.

“You know Harry; you should try to remember your dreams. Write them down in a journal as soon as you wake up, with all the details you can.” said Hermione, in her all knowing voice.

“Harry, you usually wake me up. I’ll help. Mum always said it’s not good to be alone after a nightmare.” Offered Ron, with concern in his voice.

“Look, I’ll try, ok?” snapped Harry feeling uncomfortable, wanting to change the subject.

“Harry, I’ve been doing some research into what you have seen when you dream and it turns out there are some spells and a potion for releasing sealed magic.” Hermione was using her most professional lecturing voice causing the boys to roll their eyes.

“However, the data on how and what spells are used was very scarce.” Continued Hermione.

“There was nothing in Moste Potente Potions other than a mention that the potion did exist and that it was dangerous to both the one who made it and the one who would consume it. We need to get into the Restricted Section of the library.” She said finally.

“You’ve been looking for that?” asked Harry, his voice incredulous.

“What else did you find out ‘Mione?” asked Ron.

“Yes Harry, I’ve been researching.” Snapped Hermione. “It’s important that we understand what Voldemort is doing. If it’s so vitally important to him, that he connected to you, then we must find out what it is.” said Hermione in her most serious tone that made her two friends shiver. That tone of voice always showed up just before they managed to get into trouble.

Later that evening, using Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, the three best friends undertook a late night trip to the library, more precisely to the Restricted Section. While Hermione searched vigorously through the many tomes old and not so old, Harry illuminated her with his wand. Ron stood guard, keeping an eye on the entrance of the room watching for Filch, Mrs Norris or worse Snape.

The search went on for hours and all Hermione found were vague references and cross-references that lead to nowhere. Finally, exhausted, they left the library in the wee hours of the morning.

While crossing the Entrance Hall to enter the corridor that would take them to the stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower, they heard the front doors to the castle open.

A figure clothed in shadows entered and leaned heavily against the great doors to close them. While the trio watched, the cloaked man staggered blindly forward. He moaned in evident pain before collapsing to the cold stone floor.
Without a second thought, Hermione stepped out of the cover of the Invisibly Cloak, and ran towards the prone figure.

Harry and Ron were paralyzed, realizing Hermione had revealed herself.

Hermione knelt beside the figure and gently pushed back the hood covering the face of the stranger.

“Professor! Oh Merlin! What have they done to you?” exclaimed an alarmed Hermione.

She covered her mouth in shock but recovered quickly knowing Professor Snape needed help immediately. Sending a glance to the place where Harry and Ron were, she signalled them to carry on to Gryffindor Tower.

Taking her wand out Hermione said “Mobilicorpus” and stood up. Using the spell, she moved the professor towards his chambers.

To Harry and Ron’s utter amazement, Hermione levitated the body and headed towards the dungeons and not the Infirmary, as they had assumed she would. They headed back to the tower to await her return as she had instructed.

Carefully, Hermione manoeuvred Snape’s unconscious body down the stairs and along the hallway leading to his dungeon office. Hermione turned right, still motioning Professor Snape unconscious body in front of her. Finally, Hermione reached the office door of Professor Snape. She tried every opening spell she knew but the wards were too strong and unknown to her.
Chewing her bottom lip, Hermione was thinking hard. The professor must have away to enter when he was injured or wanted to be silent. She searched for the wand pocket on Snapes robes and when she found it, Hermione pressed the wand into the hand of her unconscious charge. Touching the wand to the door of the office, she hoped the wards would recognize the occupant of the chambers and recognize his distress.

In the air signals begun to form in different colours and positions, Hermione recognised them as runes and not a moment to soon for they disappeared almost immediately.

“Very ingenious,” she thought “and so simple, no one would think of it!”

Quickly Hermione proceeded to lower the wards and motioned Professor Snape’s body inside his office. Looking around quickly, she decided she needed more light in order to treat her professor.

“Incendio” called Hermione while pointing her wand at the torches around the room. She walked over to the fireplace and pointed her wand at the hearth. “Incendio.” Once more and the fire lit to warm the room. Looking about her, she set eyes on the old oaken desk. Seeing nothing more suitable, she muttered and incantation to transform the desk into a bed to rest the professor on.

With gentle motion, Hermione moved Snape over the bed. While he was still levitated, she removed the heavy death eater robe and set it aside. Ever so softly, Snape was lowered down to rest. Hermione began to assess Severus’ injuries. (When had she started to think of him as Severus? She shook her head)

Casting some simple diagnostic spells Madam Pomfrey had shown her, Hermione worked to systematically to see what damage had been done.

“Broken ribs, nasty bump on the head and a lot of cuts and bruises“she muttered to herself. She stood back and noticed the spasms and tremors.

“Cruciatus.” Hermione was sickened thinking of the torture the man before her had undergone.

Hermione decided to heal the obvious wounds first, the broken ribs then the cuts. She used a gentle spell to clean and seal the open wounds that was less likely to leave a scar. The DA had learned basic Wizarding First Aid and the training stood her in good stead this night.

Surveying her work, while listening very closely to the respiratory rhythm, she turned her attention to the head.

“A nasty bump, no doubt about that,” she thought. She gently lifted his eyelids and looked at the pupils. “Thanks Merlin, no serious concussion.”

Working as fast as she could, Hermione soon finished. The tremors and cramping continued from the Cruciatus but she had no potion to give him.

“Wait a minute; if I can find the muscle relaxing balm we made in class, it may help.”

Hermione began searching but at that precise moment, Professor Snape opened his eyes and saw the small curly head figure snooping around his cabinets. Trying to move quietly, a small cry of pain escaped his lips, alerting Hermione to his condition.

“Professor Snape, don’t move Sir, please,” she implored. “I’m trying to find the muscle relaxing balm we made in class.” Said Hermione in a soft, calming voice.

“How dare you enter my office without permission? What could you possibly be doing in my dungeons at this time of night, you silly girl! I’m going….”
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Hermione, for the first time in her life, interrupted a professor.

Using the same voice she used with Ron and Harry, “Professor, in the morning you can take all the points you wish, you can give me all the detentions you want, but right now you will let me take care of you. If you refuse, I will be forced to call Madam Pomfrey.”

Hermione’s tone left no room for arguments. Professor Snape was taken aback by the little Gryffindor know-it-all’s temper.

“Left drawer, password Hermes.” said Professor Snape briskly.

Moving as fast as she could Hermione, was both amazed and fearful of how fast Professor Snape had given in, accepting help.

“He must be in a lot of pain or he would never have accepted help, especially my help.” Thought Hermione.

Whispering the password, Hermione retrieved her bottle of the balm; after all, she knew she had brewed correctly.

Hermione began to apply the balm on the professor’s face and hands; carefully massaging the area feeling the cramping and tremors reduce under her hands.

Afraid to overstep her boundaries, Hermione carefully opened the black coat as slowly as she could. She then opened the buttons of the cuffs. “Why” she wondered, “did this man have so many buttons.”

Realizing what she was doing, Snape stiffened and grabbed at her hands.

Opening his mouth to protest, he was silenced by Hermione, who put a finger on his lips and whispered, “Let me help, please!”

Rolling his sleeves up, she saw the dark mark on his left arm. Without flinching, she very calmly, very slowly, began to massage his arm applying feather touches, so as not to cause more pain.
Finishing both arms, Hermione them moved to his feet. She knew the worst after affects of the post-Cruciatus curse were the pulsing, spasmodic muscle contractions at the body extremities. She removed with equal care the black dragon hide boots and his black socks. Massaging his feet with equal attention, Hermione took special care with the toes. She notated how perfect his toes were, how white his skin was, how soft he felt under her fingers.

“Snap out of it girl” she thought, “He’s in pain.”

When the massage was finished, Hermione saw that the Professor had fallen asleep.

Hermione quickly transfigured the black cloak into a blanket and covered her professor. Taking one last look around, she extinguished all but one of the torches. As she left, she restored the wards as she had found them.

Moving quickly, Hermione traversed the corridors and stairs that would lead her to the Gryffindor Tower hoping she would not be found.

Halfway there, Hermione sensed someone. She could almost feel the shadow following her, she gave a sharp turn when she felt the touch of cold fingers on her shoulder and gasped.

“It’s us,” said Harry.

“We were waiting for you, you crazy girl.” Said Ron.

“Get under the cloak, fast!” urged Harry.

“Let’s get to the tower now and call it a night.” suggested Ron. “We’ll talk later.”

“Ok, sounds good.” Said Hermione, suddenly feeling very tired.

A few minutes later, standing in the common room by the dying fire, the three friends stood in a sleepy three-way hug

“Guys, we’ll talk in the morning, let’s sleep now. Ok?” said Hermione.

“You must mean in a couple of hours from now! It’s 5 in the morning!” said Ron grumpily.

“See you later ‘Mione.” Said Harry.

All three friends went to bed. Hermione’s last thought was “What have I done? I’m so in trouble with Sev…Snape.” She shook her head. “It was worth it” and then sleep claimed her.
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To say the night had been unsettling for Claire would be an understatement. The sounds she had heard through her closed door were bloodcurdling, at times loud enough to wake the dead. She finally fell asleep only to be tormented by dreams that felt frighteningly real. Claire had dreamt of her mother who was trying desperately to communicate something but had left Claire confused.

Her mother, Maria, had warned her that Voldemort was dark and dangerous. Her dream mother told her the only way to survive would be to cooperate and tell the truth as best as Claire understood it but not to reveal too much. She would have to guard her emotions and not allow them to have control over her, as Voldemort would use these against her. Her mother told her to learn all she could but she should not judge what she had not lived. She needed to keep an open mind remembering there were two sides to every story. Lastly, Maria reminded her daughter she was created and born from love. The final image she remembered was her mother pleading to her to remember what she had always told her about her father. ‘I loved him Claire; find Albus, your father.’
These were the last dream memories had as she floated awake to her frightening reality.

Claire had always been a sceptic regarding divination, dream interpretation and other such nonsense. Since her mother’s passing, however, Claire had found in times of stress, her mother would often come in the form of dreams, to advise and reassure her. She knew she should heed the warning and follow the advice her mother gave her.

Claire began her, now normal, morning routine of calming meditation and bathing. When she finally was ready to breakfast, she decided to go to the living room, since no one had bothered to bring the meal to her. Very carefully, Claire opened the heavy, dark, wooden door and peered outside.

“Ah, thank God, no snake! “ She thought, walking slowly, through the corridor that would lead her to the living room.

When Claire arrived at the entrance of the room, her nostrils were assaulted with a strong smell of copper and sweat; red stains were still visible on the floor.
Claire shuddered.

“Ah! My dear, I see you are an early riser.,” said Lord Voldemort, from a far corner on her right. Did the creature even sleep?

“Yes.” said a very startled Claire, “I assumed I should come here for breakfast.”

“Excellent my dear. I have some good news for you, but first, come; let us eat some breakfast...” said Lord Voldemort in a soft hiss.

Claire ate sparingly of the repast, the smells were too disturbing.

Lord Voldemort noticed this and asked, “Not hungry my dear?”

“No Sir, I never eat much in the morning.” she said, taking another sip of tea. “Lord Voldemort, you said you had news for me?”

“Ah, yes. Last night I met with my inner circle of servants. Among them, I have the best potions master in Europe, perhaps the best in the world.” Voldemort gestured about him for emphasis.

“I have managed to persuade him to help you. He is now researching the ritual and potion ingredients that are necessary to proceed with the release of your magic. After your magic is freed, my loyal servant and I will teach you. The fewer people who know about you, the better!” Voldemort sat back in his chair, a gruesome smile on his face.

“I do pride myself, of having no traitors in my ranks, but one can never be too careful.”

Claire only nodded and sipped her, now, cold tea.

“What should I do in the meantime, Lord Voldemort?” asked Claire trying her best to be at least interested if not enthusiastic about her fate.

“Well my dear, I believe, you must begin to instruct yourself about our world, or should I say your new world. I will select the appropriate books. You will also need ink, a quill and parchment of course.” The Dark Lord looked as if he enjoyed his role of benevolent sponsor.

“Quill? Parchment? I’m sorry; I do not understand the words, Sir.” said Claire lowering her eyes demurely

‘Ah, of course my dear, I do tend to forget you are not a native English speaker. Come let me show you.”

After showing Claire what parchment, ink and quill were, Lord Voldemort moved them to the library where he picked up some books, on potions and basic spells.

Then he announced,” Here my dear, you must read and memorize the words, movements and meanings of the spells in this book.” He handed Claire a large tome, which contained as many illustrations as it did written instructions.

“This one is on potions. I want you to understand exactly the content of this book, committing as much as you can to memory.” He handed her another book, which also had many pictures though not as many as the first.

“Tomorrow, I’ll ask you a few questions, to see if you are grasping the knowledge. Now it’s time for you to go to your quarters, and learn. You need to be educated!” Voldemort clasped his hands in front of him looking for the entire world like a proud parent and led her towards the doors.

Claire recognized an order when she heard one, so she took the books and writing implements and left without a word.

A minute later, by the fire in her quarters, Claire was wondering, “Why is it always cold in here? People teach their children that hell is hot!” She shook her head to clear her mind and began organizing her thoughts. “Now! First, learn every thing I can from these books and then rationalize what I have learned. Second, I must try not to reveal how much I really know to the old creep. Third, figure out how to use what I have learned to my advantage. I wonder if this so called Potions Master is one of the bastards that brought me here.”

“Enough musing.” Thought Claire and she eagerly began reading, only being slowed by the difficulty she with the unfamiliar parchment, ink and the damn quill.

Claire’s day went by while she made notes and cross references. Memorization came easily as Claire had always been a sponge for knowledge. It had set her apart in school with her classmates thinking her a little odd.

She took a break from her study, closing her eyes for a moment. As she tried to relax, memories of the previous night flooded her mind. The sounds and smells crowded in behind her eyes and she wondered if the lauded potions master was the recipient of the tortuous persuasion. What manners of person could this be who could be so ill-used yet return to serve? Why would anyone submit so and not seek to flee?

The thoughts continued to plague her has she picked up her quill and began her studies once more. She stopped working only when Roedor brought her the Spartan meals provided.

“Agh! The name truly suited him.” Thought Claire.

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Severus Snape awoke the next morning disoriented in his present surroundings. Looking about him, he realized he was in his dungeon office lying on a surprisingly comfortable bed in the place where his desk normally stood.
Taking a moment, he took some deep breaths willing his mind to cast back to the previous evening. As if on a fast forward screen, the scenes played out in his brain beginning with the call received at dinner to the Granger chit soothing his pain.

Hurriedly, Professor Snape rose and grabbed his death eater robe come blanket. Turning, he transfigured the bed back into his desk and the blanket into the infamous robe. Passing through the hidden door to his private chambers, he hurriedly stripped to shower and change before meeting Dumbledore. Snape had urgent news and it could wait no longer.

Standing under the water flow, Snape thought of a certain resident Gryffindor know–it–all and her actions the night before. He secretly admired her determination and thought back to her soothing hands on his face…...

“Put that out of your mind Snape.” He muttered as he scrubbed himself harder.

“Well, after all this I had better deduct points from Gryffindor just to remind her of her place!“ He thought smirking to himself. Some things brought their own reward.

With that last thought, Professor Snape dressed and left for the headmaster’s office.

Hermione Granger was beside herself that morning. Mortified would be a better word. While showering and dressing in her private room, the privilege of Hogwarts Head Girl, she kept thinking on how she would face Snape in the coming days. Even worse, what would he say to her, no correction, what would he do to her!

Bearing that in mind, Hermione entered the common room, where Harry and Ron were already awaiting her to go to breakfast.

“Hi ‘Mione.” greeted Harry in a light-hearted tone.

“Morning ‘Mione” echoed Ron looking quite sheepish this morning.

“G’morning guys.” said Hermione more lightly than she really felt. She knew they would be looking for answers.

“’Mione what happened last night?” asked Harry, feeling brave enough to ask knowing Hermione would give him the Look. She had that look!!!

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip and slowly began to answer.

“Well,” she looked around to make sure they were alone in the common room,” you see guys, nothing really major happened.” her voice was evasive.

“You’re joking ‘Mione! You went to help Snape and moved him down to his dungeons while he was unconscious! Don’t you remember? Why are you even bothering to help him? He’d never help us that is for sure!” said Ron not stopping to take a breath.

“Don’t you dare Ronald Weasley! Professor Snape has saved us many times in the past! And what was I supposed to do? Leave him lying there? I couldn’t do that! Not to anyone, not even to a Malfoy!” hissed Hermione in a low whisper of pure outrage.

“‘Mione, why didn’t you take Snape to the infirmary? I don’t know… we could have called Madam Pomfrey.” said Harry in a confused tone.

“Harry, Ron, I couldn’t leave anyone behind, going to bed while knowing he could be dead in the entrance hall. Not even Snape!” Hermione began pacing in agitation. ”I had to help him as best I could. I knew he would not have wanted to go to the hospital wing or to have Madam Pomfrey attend him. He was trying to reach the dungeons.”

She stopped pacing and looked both her friends in the face. “I take full responsibility for what I have done. I am the head girl, I do have the right to go and see if something is amiss at any time of day or night. “Hermione having finished her speech turned and made her way through the portrait hole. The boys shrugged at each other and followed her to breakfast.

Professor Snape climbed the stairs leading to the gargoyle entrance to the Headmaster’s office. He took a deep breath and said the password. Immediately the huge stone gargoyle that guarded the stairs that leading up to the headmaster’s office, opened. Professor Snape climbed the last steps and stepped inside the headmaster’s office. The Headmaster was sitting behind his desk obviously expecting the professor.

“Hello Severus.” Professor Dumbledore greeted professor Snape. “Do take a seat. I can see it didn’t go quite as you had hoped.” said Dumbledore, sitting quietly behind his desk.

Professor Dumbledore, looked as if he hadn’t gone to bed the previous night, however he did have some of his twinkling back in his eyes.

“Headmaster, last nights meeting was very informative.” Snape concentrated and began to recount his experience.

“The Dark Lord started the evening in an apparently very happy mood; pleased with himself I should say. The meeting was only for members of the Inner Circle and so was fairly intimate.” Severus shifted in his chair before continuing. “Malfoy approached the Dark Lord with a proposition to be of assistance in taming a certain present he had given to the Dark Lord. He showed his displeasure to Malfoy by punishing him with several rounds of Cruciatus for his presumption.”

“The Dark Lord said that victory was closer now than ever. That he would see you dead and Potter begging at his feet as his mother had done. Nothing new, so far.” Snape considered what he was to say next.

“I was most surprised when he dismissed the Inner Circle and requested that I stay behind.” Snape paused and took a sip at the tea the headmaster had conjured.

“The Dark Lord has a girl who has had her magic blocked since birth. I am to brew a potion, which is part of a very old and dark ritual. The ritual is composed of three stages. The first stage is to brew a potion created by mixing baby unicorn blood, Azor hair, Aqua Vigo produced during copulation between the brewer and subject and finally the blood of the subject, if she is a virgin it then must be her virginal blood.”

Snape stood, his agitation growing. “The second stage is a complex spell requiring two wizards, one of whom is the potion maker. The third and last stage must be fulfilled on the full moon. The potion maker and the subject cut their palms with an athame and bind their hands together to allow their blood to mix. Under the light of the moon they must comsume the potion and again, copulate. The third stage must completed within 30 days of the first stage.”

Turning to his mentor, Severus shared the direst piece of information he had. “This ritual has the ability to pull the dark magic resident in the subject witch. It is extremely dangerous. “Any mistake and the person for whom the ritual is being performed will die, loosing their soul for eternity. It is also potentially deadly for the potion maker. This ritual was taken from the Book of Death, presumably created by Toth himself.”

Professor Snape paused once more to sip his now very cold tea, before continuing in a detached voice. “I have not yet seen the girl. Headmaster, the situation is critical. This girl’s power besides being revealed, will be enhanced by the ritual! The Dark Lord wants to make sure that she will have great power, dark magic.”

Snape leaned forward, visibly agitated. “I tried to suggest to the Dark Lord that the moon stone ritual would be less dangerous, however the dark lord was not very receptive to such a suggestion.” Severus remembered the Cruciatus curses the night before. “I’m afraid I failed to move him, Sir.” Professor Snape went quiet, having given his report of the night.

The headmaster looked very concerned. “Severus, there is no way you can avoid doing this potion, is there? No, I don’t think so…,” said Dumbledore more to himself, than to Professor Snape. “Severus do you know what will happen after the ritual?”

Professor Snape moved uncomfortably in his chair and said, “Headmaster, if everything goes has planned; the Dark Lord requires that I train this girl in potions and offensive spells.”

“Severus, let me think on the matter for a few hours. We will speak of it tonight.”

Professor Snape understood the dismissal and bid the Headmaster a good day leaving the office for the Great Hall.
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When Professor Snape reached the High Table in the Great Hall, Hermione Granger and the rest of the dream team were already there. Snape surveyed the room, not allowing his eyes to stop at the Gryffindor table.

While the Professor was biting his toast, he couldn’t help but think what he could do to a certain Gryffindor and even more importantly, what she would say. Had she told her friends about last night? Were they there too? They were probably laughing at him right now!!!
Suddenly, Professor Snape noticed the glare that Hermione Granger was bestowing upon the two boys.

“Troubles in the dream team? I wonder why? “Thought Snape.

Hermione was fuming “Those two idiotic brats. Were they totally stupid? Couldn’t they look past their hate for Snape? Couldn’t they see how much he suffered?” She shook her head in annoyance.

“What about the importance of the professor’s work for the order? That, without him, the order would be working blind. What a pair of narrow minded, immature, broom polishing twits you both are.” Hermione’s ire knew no end this morning.

As the morning went on, tension grew among the three friends. The boys still could not, understand their friend and by lunchtime things had not improved.

Harry was still worried about Professor Dumbledore; he looked like he was aging more rapidly than ever before. It seemed he was bearing a burden far too heavy for his aged shoulders.

“Well guy’s,” began Harry in an upbeat tone, “next class is Double potions!”

Both of his friends just glared at him and looked very worried for very different reasons.


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