A Turn for the Better

Chapter 60 ~ The Hardest Obstacle to Face . . .

Snape met Lucius’ attack, blocking the blow, the two wizards standing face to face for a moment, the pureblood giving Snape a crooked smile before they parted, swords at the ready. The Potions master took a quick measure of the terrain and his opponent.

Snape would have to fight him here in the light. If he attempted to drive Lucius back, Lucius would have the advantage of darkness behind him. Ideally, if Snape could switch positions with him, he’d have the advantage.
”No time to think, Severus,” Lucius said, attempting to strike at Snape’s legs. The sword wouldn’t cut him, but the impact of a slash would hurt like hell. Snape parried, then thrust at Lucius’ loins. Thankfully he missed, Lucius managing to divert the direction of the blow with his blade.

“My, that’s dirty Quidditch, Snape,” Lucius said, waggling a finger at him.

”You should know. You taught it to me, Lucius,” Snape said, attacking again.

The sound of blade clashing against blade rang through the maze as the wizards went at each other, robes billowing and bathed in torchlight as they danced back and forth. Lucius’ long blonde hair flailed and bounced dramatically as if he were a hero from a cheesy romance novel. He did look dashing however, and that only made Snape want to knock his block off even more. Lucius was the original pretty boy.

Snape attempted to get past Lucius, but Lucius side-stepped and blocked his way every time. There was no spinning in this fight and they kept it close, their swords held in the middle position, protecting the torso to the head when they paused. This was the best position for parrying and counterstriking.

”There’s an awful amount of roses here,” Lucius said, driving Snape back with a barrage of blows, but unable to make contact as the Potions master parried. “Your wife must not know you very well, unless she did this to purposely put you off your game.”

Snape knew Lucius was goading him in an attempt to make him make an error in judgment.

”It will take more than a few bloody flowers to put me off my game, Lucius. I’ve a witch to get to,” he growled, driving Lucius back with his own barrage of blows.

The wizards were both panting now. The swords they had were not only dull, but heavy, and seemed to be getting heavier by the minute.

”You could go to your witch and save us a lot of perspiration if you would only fire the blasted spark,” Lucius panted at him, twisting to block a blow aimed at his shoulder. But he wasn’t able to recover quickly enough and Snape punched him in the side of the face, with his fist, staggering him sideways. He then attempted to run past him, but Lucius stuck out his foot and tripped him, then ran in front of him, blocking the way as he gingerly rubbed his bruised cheek.

”Ouch,” he commented briefly before going on point again.

Snape got off the ground, brushing at his robes, his dark eyes glittering as he looked at the wizard. This was taking far too long and they were evenly matched. Too evenly.

”I’m tired of this,” he said to Lucius, who lowered his sword.

”Are you ready to admit defeat and fire the spark?” the pureblood asked him, victory in his gray eyes.

”Not exactly,” Snape said, pulling his wand out.

Lucius’ eyes went wide.

”Snape! I don’t have my wand,” Lucius hissed at him. “This is completely dishonorable!”

”I don’t have time for honor, Lucius. As I said before, I have a witch to get to. Stupefy!”

Snape blasted Lucius with a stunner and the wizard crumpled. Snape looked down at his unconscious foe and wondered if he should bind him. No doubt Lucius would be furious when he awoke and might attempt to follow him.

Snape sheathed his sword, then picked up Lucius’ weapon and threw it into the hedge to be on the safe side. He walked back and picked up his divining rod, then walked back to Lucius, pointing his wand at him. Better safe than ambushed from behind at the most inopportune moment.

Suddenly, several vines snaked out from the lowest section of the maze, wrapped around the pureblood and drew him into the hedge, covering him with foliage. Snape blinked. Was Devil’s Snare carnivorous? Hm. He couldn’t recall the plant ever actually eating a victim. Strangling one to death? Yes. But not actually eating one. But the vines didn’t seem to be crushing Lucius. Maybe it was the way the maze kept itself pristine.

Whatever. More than likely Lucius would be fine. Snape held up the divining rod again and waited for it to guide him. It moved forward, the wizard following.

Stunning Lucius had been rather dirty, but satisfying. Besides, Severus was a Slytherin and all Slytherins had a less than noble side that they utilized when necessary.

Well, in this case it was necessary.

The divining rod drew him through the dark area and the torch spacing returned to normal. It hesitated and turned left, leading him through another opening in the hedge, then turning right. Snape followed the rod for more than forty-five minutes before it shuddered and stopped in front of another dark area.

Snape put the rod down on the ground and drew his sword as he peered into the darkness.

”Come out!” he hissed, brandishing the sword. Again, there was movement. Snape backed up as the shape took on form. Something was walking slowly toward him, on four legs.
Four legs?

Snape quickly pulled out his wand. He faltered a little as he saw the face of an almond eyed woman, her eyes slightly slanted, and her skin olive-complexioned. It wore a very sexy smile as the rest of its body emerged from the darkness. It had the body of a very large lion, with huge paws and what seemed like huger claws. The creature sat down in the middle of the row, effectively blocking the wizard from continuing on. It eyed Snape, swishing its tufted tail.

”Your wand won’t work on me,” the sphinx said in a deep, hoarse voice. “So put it away.”

The creature sounded very different than what Snape expected. So, if there was a sphinx, that meant there would be a riddle he’d have to answer. He put his wand away.

”I imagine you have a question for me,” Snape said to the sphinx, whose eyes narrowed.

”Of course. That is the purpose of being a sphinx. To ask humans questions, then strangle and devour them when they cannot answer,” the sphinx said with a rather predatory smile. Then it frowned slightly.

”However, in your case, I can only make you turn and take another path, drat the luck. I owed Hagrid a favor. It had to do with a thorn in my paw,” the sphinx said.

Snape wasn’t interested in the details.

”Ask your question, sphinx,” he said shortly, looking impatient.

”Ah, yes. There’s a female waiting for you in a cottage,” the sphinx said, sniffing at him delicately. “I can smell the testosterone from here. Very well, here is the riddle . . .”

Snape listened carefully, expecting to hear something that would stump a normal human being.

”What creature,” the sphinx said importantly, “in the morning goes on four feet, at noon on two, and in the evening upon three?"

Snape blinked at the sphinx. Was it serious?

”That’s your question?” he asked it in disbelief.

The sphinx nodded.

”The answer is a man. He crawls as an infant in his youth, walks on two legs in his prime and uses a cane in his old age. Oedipus answered that riddle in Sophocles' play centuries ago. Everyone knows the answer to that riddle,” Snape told the sphinx, which looked very surprised.

”Hm, so you’ve read it, then?” the sphinx asked him.

”Everyone’s read it,” Snape said dryly. “Now, please remove yourself from my path.”

The sphinx blinked at him.

”That was just a trial riddle,” it said, trying to recoup its losses. Damn, it needed some new riddles. “What’s green and gray and red all over?”

”No, I’ve answered your riddle, let me pass,” Snape said, picking up the divining rod and approaching the sphinx now.

”A frog in a blender, but that’s all right. I know more,” the sphinx said quickly as Snape sidled by it. “What’s the quickest way to count cows?”

”I don’t know and I don’t care,” Snape called back.

”Use a cow-culator,” the sphinx said, following him now.

”Get away from me,” Snape said, urging the divining rod to pull faster. The sphinx slowed down. It wasn’t supposed to follow him. It tried one more riddle.

”Why does a golfer always carry an extra pair of trousers with him?”

”Leave me alone, blast you!”

”In case he gets a hole-in-one,” the sphinx cried as Snape turned into another opening. Thank the gods. And the sphinx was supposed to be incredibly wise?

Incredibly annoying seemed to describe the creature more accurately.

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Snape walked in a straight line for what seemed to be a mile. He had seen no openings in the hedge at all, which was strange. The divining rod passed a lot of openings as it guided him, but in this case, there were none. Suddenly he saw darkness ahead of him. But it wasn’t a darkness caused by the spacing of torches. A huge tree with a trunk that almost touched the sides of the maze stood rooted before him. But, there was enough space for him to squeeze pass it. Or so he thought.

There wasn’t hedge next to the tree, but stone columns on either side, purposely placed there to stop his progress. But they were still part of the maze. If he tried to destroy them, he had no doubt something very unpleasant would happen. He was surrounded by hedges now. If those vines came out . . .

Snape studied the tree. Hm. Maybe he could gouge out some of the trunk with his wand and then get through. He put down the divining rod and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the tree’s trunk, carefully angling the tip so the spell wouldn’t accidentally hit the hedge..

”Reducto!” Snape cried.

A very small piece of the tree was blasted away. Damn. This was going to take some time. Maybe if he focused his intent more it would work faster.

Suddenly, Snape heard angry chittering coming from above him. He looked up to see a number of what looked like flat-faced little stick men made of bark and twigs. They were all pointing long sharp fingers at him as they chattered angrily.

”Bowtruckles,” Snape breathed, slowly backing away from the tree as he pointed his wand at them. There had to be hundreds of the little creatures. And he had fucked with their tree.

Bowtruckles were insect-eating tree dwellers. They had long sharp fingers, two on each hand, and were known to do damage with them when angered. Well, these were some very angry bowthuckles. They leapt out of the tree, raining down on Snape, who blasted a few out of the air, kicked and flailed at them and started to run back up the row. But bowthuckles were fast, and he hissed with pain as several leapt on his legs and started pricking him with their sharp fingers. He tried to kick them off, but they held on, and the others were pursuing, some running alongside the hedge horizontally. He tried to Disapparate, but couldn’t. Damn it. The maze had anti-Apparition spells on it. Flitwick again. Maybe the wizards weren’t that benevolent. And Hagrid had supplied the bowtruckles.

Snape was about to be overcome by the little creatures. He was going to have to send up that flare to save himself. But he didn’t want to do that. A bowtruckle swung around his pouch and tried to prick him in the chest. Snape crushed it in his hand and flung it away, which caused a newly enraged round of chittering from the others.

His pouch! Still running, Snape ripped the pouch open and grabbed the only item he had in it, the squirming bag of woodlice. He spun, shaking the bag of lice on the ground. Every single bowtruckle, including the ones clinging to his legs and climbing up his back, stopped what they were doing to enjoy a meal. Wood lice were the bowtruckles favorite food.

Snape gingerly picked his way back through the bowtruckles. A few passed him, hurrying toward the feast. As soon as he was clear of them, he ran for the tree again. He wasted no time blasting an opening between the trunk and column, then grabbed his divining rod and sidled through. Dear gods. He’d almost been completely skewered.
Hermione better have some healing potion at that cottage. He was going to need it. Dots of crimson peppered the back of his white shirt, showing just where the bowtruckles had pricked him.

Snape scowled as he walked down the row led by the divining rod. After all this, Hermione might need a bit of healing potion too by the time he was finished with her.

He made a left and stopped short, his eyes rounding. Someone was standing in the path. Someone he could clearly see and recognize. Someone absolutely chilling.

”You killed me,” a silken voice hissed.

Snape didn’t say anything as he stared at his own image, staring back at him. But this version was very gaunt, his cheekbones sharp and nearly skeletal, and his skin so sallow it was nearly yellow. His hair was lifeless and lank, and a bit too long. His robes were stark and severe as was the double’s demeanor.

”I worked all my life to survive, and you, you destroyed me. I had a right to exist, a right to my life as piteous as it was. You murdered me. You and your little Mudblood wife,” Snape said to Snape, who simply stared at him—unable to speak at all.

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A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter, particularly the sphinx. Man, those riddles were so horrible. I was cracking up the entire time I was writing that part. Poor Snape. Lol. I bet you all thought Snape was facing Tom Riddle. But I thought facing himself would be more chilling. Anyway, thanks for reading.