#7 ~ The Ghost and Lady Snape
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
20,766
Reviews:
261
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
20,766
Reviews:
261
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Dragon is Summoned
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR (except Marcus Delaluci). All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 8 ~ The Dragon is Summoned
Marcus was eating supper in the Great Hall when Raucous arrived with a loud namesake squawk and a small parchment tied to his leg. The raven landed in front of him, and Marcus could have sworn the bird purposely stepped into his peas and rice before sticking out his leg. Marcus untied the parchment warily, not trusting the fierce look in the bird’s eye. Once the parchment was removed, Raucous leapt from the table and departed, but not before leaving a large, sloppy dropping in Marcus’ plate. The wizard pushed it away in disgust and unrolled the parchment. It read:
Mr. Delaluci,
Please accept my invitation to meet my wife and myself in my rooms immediately after supper. We have much to discuss.
Severus Snape
Potions Master
Marcus folded the parchment and put it into his robes pocket. At last they’d come around. He’d bet a knut to a galleon that Hermione was in a world of trouble by the time Snape got to her. The Potions Master must have done all right though, because the note clearly stated he would be meeting with them both. So whatever happened, she survived it, and it shook them up enough to put aside the fact that he had tried to bust up or bust in on their twisted little relationship. Best of all, he knew that it was eating them alive to do it. Marcus grinned. He wasn’t going to make it easy on them either. He was an ungracious loser after all. If he had attended Hogwarts, he would have certainly been a Slytherin in good standing.
Attendance to supper in the Great Hall was greatly reduced. All day students had been arriving at the Hogwarts infirmary with all types of ailments and complaints, so many in fact, that Pomfrey had to send to St. Mungo’s for an assistant medi-witch to help tend them all. The symptoms ranged from sudden bloody noses, to vomiting, to fainting spells, to full-blown unexplainable seizures. These illnesses affected students of every house except that of Slytherin. Pomfrey was having the halls of Hogwarts carefully checked for magical viruses. So far, nothing turned up. Checking the food stores was next. If Pomfrey had not been so mentally and physically stressed from taking care of all her patients, she might have noticed that every ill student was a muggle-born. But someone did notice. Albus Dumbledore.
Severus had contacted the Headmaster late in the afternoon, requesting that a substitute be found for his Potions classes for the next several days. When Albus asked the reason, the Potions Master, for the first time in their relationship was purposely evasive, promising to reveal the full details of the matter on the morrow. The Headmaster agreed, knowing that Severus would keep his word, and inform him fully of the situation, and made the arrangements. Raucous’ delivery to Marcus hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Headmaster. He was painfully aware of the animosity that existed between Severus, Marcus and Hermione. He was somewhat surprised at the delivery and knew only something of grave importance could bring Severus to contact the DA teacher. Marcus was most likely a piece to this puzzle.
Albus sighed. He didn’t receive the position of Headmaster by acting in haste. He suspected that what Severus had to tell him, and the mysterious illnesses happening to the muggle-borns were probably connected. As none of the illnesses were life-threatening, although frightening…such as the seizures which were easily ended by the use of the Relaxo spell, the Headmaster decided it would be in his best interest to let Severus sort it out and present him with viable facts, causes and solutions. Then he would be free to act. He popped a strawberry in his mouth, and chewed it thoughtfully.
*******************************
Peeves was in the main hall, amusing himself by loosening all the bolts on the hanging lamps, and shooting spitballs at passing students. The poltergeist was a staple at Hogwarts, having been in residence for more than two hundred havoc-filled years. His continued presence at Hogwarts was a mystery to the current caretaker, Argus Filch, who yearly filed a petition with Dumbledore to have the bothersome creature exorcised, and was yearly denied. The truth was, Peeves served a purpose at Hogwarts. A poltergeist is the manifestation of adolescent angst and anger. Hogwarts students were full of both. Peeves served as a magnet for these forces, and drew those energies away from the student body like a spiritual sponge, making them easier to control. They were what fueled him, and gave him his purpose. Without him, Hogwarts’ relative peace would be shattered.
Peeves was happily masticating parchment for his next round of spitball attacks, when he became aware of something dark drifting along the corridor. He flitted closer, and shuddered at the hatred it emitted. This was a ghost, but not a ghost…it was much like him, but not.
The presence stilled when the poltergeist flew toward him, realizing he was detected. He studied the spirit. It wore an orange bow-tie, loud, outlandish clothing and a bell-covered hat. The creature was solid, and could interact with the world. It could be useful.
Peeves.
The poltergeist started. The presence had called him.
“Who are you, ghostie?” the poltergeist asked, flitting backwards, hopefully out of range. The energy the presence radiated, was so hateful it was almost painful. The Bloody Baron radiated a similar energy but far, far weaker.
I am Alistar. I have come to finish my work.
Peeves frowned. “Your work, ghostie? What is your work?”
Suddenly the poltergeist was hit with a burst of energy that made him burst apart, the pieces flying everywhere. There was so much pain. Slowly, his pieces drew together and he reformed, disoriented.
My name is Alistar. Not ghostie you ignorant creature. Address me by it.
The poltergeist nodded, thinking of fleeing but too frightened to move. Alistar’s power was great. Greater than the Baron’s.
My work is to gain power.
“Nice work if you can get it,” Peeves replied. He was immediately aware of great displeasure coming from Alistar. He removed his bell-covered hat and ducked his head apologetically.
You can see me. That makes you a liability, Peeves. You can help them find me before I am ready.
“I helps nobody, sir. I only aggravates them.
You may help me. Or be destroyed. Your choice.
The poltergeist faltered a moment. He was a pain in the ass, but he was loyal to Hogwarts. He did all he could do. He turned invisible and fled. Luckily, he caught the spirit Alistar off guard and escaped. Alistar was enraged, but couldn’t match the speed of Peeves yet. He was stronger, yes, but not willing to waste energy. He would deal with the poltergeist later.
His thirst was returning. His shameful desire. His lust, his hatred. The terrible need for the blood. He needed access to the mudblood witch who released him. Without her power he could not succeed in finishing his work. He would have to return for her. He would have to kill her husband and finish taking her. Find him when he was alone and kill him far from the power of her love.
*********************************
His dinner ruined by Raucous, Marcus decided it was time to head to the dungeons and meet with the Snapes. He rose from the High Table and exited out the staff door, discreetly observed by Dumbledore. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked slowly toward the dungeon entrance, deep in thought. How would they greet him? Would they try to hide information or be forthcoming? Will they try to kick his ass thinking he had something to do with this?
He entered the main hall, and his eyes instantly telescoped painfully. He stopped and looked around. Something wasn’t right here. It was as if the air were thickening and he couldn’t breathe. His skin began to tingle, and he became aware of his own blood flowing in his veins, feeling the hot liquid coursing through his limbs, circulating through his lungs, filling and refilling the cavities of his heart. This had never happened before.
Marcus didn’t draw his wand, he knew it would be useless. Instead, his instinct for self-preservation kicked in, and he bolted for Severus’ rooms.
*********************************
Alistar recoiled when Marcus entered the main hall. Wondering at his response, the ghost reached out delicately and probed his energy. The blonde wizard was pureblood, but more than pureblood. He had power, a great power that inspired thirst in the spirit, a thirst almost as strong as for the mudblood woman. Alistar drew closer. Oh, great darkness there! He could touch him. The spirit drifted down quickly. The wizard hesitated, then ran.
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A/N: Nest chapter, Marcus, Hermione and Severus meet.
*******************************
Chapter 8 ~ The Dragon is Summoned
Marcus was eating supper in the Great Hall when Raucous arrived with a loud namesake squawk and a small parchment tied to his leg. The raven landed in front of him, and Marcus could have sworn the bird purposely stepped into his peas and rice before sticking out his leg. Marcus untied the parchment warily, not trusting the fierce look in the bird’s eye. Once the parchment was removed, Raucous leapt from the table and departed, but not before leaving a large, sloppy dropping in Marcus’ plate. The wizard pushed it away in disgust and unrolled the parchment. It read:
Mr. Delaluci,
Please accept my invitation to meet my wife and myself in my rooms immediately after supper. We have much to discuss.
Severus Snape
Potions Master
Marcus folded the parchment and put it into his robes pocket. At last they’d come around. He’d bet a knut to a galleon that Hermione was in a world of trouble by the time Snape got to her. The Potions Master must have done all right though, because the note clearly stated he would be meeting with them both. So whatever happened, she survived it, and it shook them up enough to put aside the fact that he had tried to bust up or bust in on their twisted little relationship. Best of all, he knew that it was eating them alive to do it. Marcus grinned. He wasn’t going to make it easy on them either. He was an ungracious loser after all. If he had attended Hogwarts, he would have certainly been a Slytherin in good standing.
Attendance to supper in the Great Hall was greatly reduced. All day students had been arriving at the Hogwarts infirmary with all types of ailments and complaints, so many in fact, that Pomfrey had to send to St. Mungo’s for an assistant medi-witch to help tend them all. The symptoms ranged from sudden bloody noses, to vomiting, to fainting spells, to full-blown unexplainable seizures. These illnesses affected students of every house except that of Slytherin. Pomfrey was having the halls of Hogwarts carefully checked for magical viruses. So far, nothing turned up. Checking the food stores was next. If Pomfrey had not been so mentally and physically stressed from taking care of all her patients, she might have noticed that every ill student was a muggle-born. But someone did notice. Albus Dumbledore.
Severus had contacted the Headmaster late in the afternoon, requesting that a substitute be found for his Potions classes for the next several days. When Albus asked the reason, the Potions Master, for the first time in their relationship was purposely evasive, promising to reveal the full details of the matter on the morrow. The Headmaster agreed, knowing that Severus would keep his word, and inform him fully of the situation, and made the arrangements. Raucous’ delivery to Marcus hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Headmaster. He was painfully aware of the animosity that existed between Severus, Marcus and Hermione. He was somewhat surprised at the delivery and knew only something of grave importance could bring Severus to contact the DA teacher. Marcus was most likely a piece to this puzzle.
Albus sighed. He didn’t receive the position of Headmaster by acting in haste. He suspected that what Severus had to tell him, and the mysterious illnesses happening to the muggle-borns were probably connected. As none of the illnesses were life-threatening, although frightening…such as the seizures which were easily ended by the use of the Relaxo spell, the Headmaster decided it would be in his best interest to let Severus sort it out and present him with viable facts, causes and solutions. Then he would be free to act. He popped a strawberry in his mouth, and chewed it thoughtfully.
*******************************
Peeves was in the main hall, amusing himself by loosening all the bolts on the hanging lamps, and shooting spitballs at passing students. The poltergeist was a staple at Hogwarts, having been in residence for more than two hundred havoc-filled years. His continued presence at Hogwarts was a mystery to the current caretaker, Argus Filch, who yearly filed a petition with Dumbledore to have the bothersome creature exorcised, and was yearly denied. The truth was, Peeves served a purpose at Hogwarts. A poltergeist is the manifestation of adolescent angst and anger. Hogwarts students were full of both. Peeves served as a magnet for these forces, and drew those energies away from the student body like a spiritual sponge, making them easier to control. They were what fueled him, and gave him his purpose. Without him, Hogwarts’ relative peace would be shattered.
Peeves was happily masticating parchment for his next round of spitball attacks, when he became aware of something dark drifting along the corridor. He flitted closer, and shuddered at the hatred it emitted. This was a ghost, but not a ghost…it was much like him, but not.
The presence stilled when the poltergeist flew toward him, realizing he was detected. He studied the spirit. It wore an orange bow-tie, loud, outlandish clothing and a bell-covered hat. The creature was solid, and could interact with the world. It could be useful.
Peeves.
The poltergeist started. The presence had called him.
“Who are you, ghostie?” the poltergeist asked, flitting backwards, hopefully out of range. The energy the presence radiated, was so hateful it was almost painful. The Bloody Baron radiated a similar energy but far, far weaker.
I am Alistar. I have come to finish my work.
Peeves frowned. “Your work, ghostie? What is your work?”
Suddenly the poltergeist was hit with a burst of energy that made him burst apart, the pieces flying everywhere. There was so much pain. Slowly, his pieces drew together and he reformed, disoriented.
My name is Alistar. Not ghostie you ignorant creature. Address me by it.
The poltergeist nodded, thinking of fleeing but too frightened to move. Alistar’s power was great. Greater than the Baron’s.
My work is to gain power.
“Nice work if you can get it,” Peeves replied. He was immediately aware of great displeasure coming from Alistar. He removed his bell-covered hat and ducked his head apologetically.
You can see me. That makes you a liability, Peeves. You can help them find me before I am ready.
“I helps nobody, sir. I only aggravates them.
You may help me. Or be destroyed. Your choice.
The poltergeist faltered a moment. He was a pain in the ass, but he was loyal to Hogwarts. He did all he could do. He turned invisible and fled. Luckily, he caught the spirit Alistar off guard and escaped. Alistar was enraged, but couldn’t match the speed of Peeves yet. He was stronger, yes, but not willing to waste energy. He would deal with the poltergeist later.
His thirst was returning. His shameful desire. His lust, his hatred. The terrible need for the blood. He needed access to the mudblood witch who released him. Without her power he could not succeed in finishing his work. He would have to return for her. He would have to kill her husband and finish taking her. Find him when he was alone and kill him far from the power of her love.
*********************************
His dinner ruined by Raucous, Marcus decided it was time to head to the dungeons and meet with the Snapes. He rose from the High Table and exited out the staff door, discreetly observed by Dumbledore. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked slowly toward the dungeon entrance, deep in thought. How would they greet him? Would they try to hide information or be forthcoming? Will they try to kick his ass thinking he had something to do with this?
He entered the main hall, and his eyes instantly telescoped painfully. He stopped and looked around. Something wasn’t right here. It was as if the air were thickening and he couldn’t breathe. His skin began to tingle, and he became aware of his own blood flowing in his veins, feeling the hot liquid coursing through his limbs, circulating through his lungs, filling and refilling the cavities of his heart. This had never happened before.
Marcus didn’t draw his wand, he knew it would be useless. Instead, his instinct for self-preservation kicked in, and he bolted for Severus’ rooms.
*********************************
Alistar recoiled when Marcus entered the main hall. Wondering at his response, the ghost reached out delicately and probed his energy. The blonde wizard was pureblood, but more than pureblood. He had power, a great power that inspired thirst in the spirit, a thirst almost as strong as for the mudblood woman. Alistar drew closer. Oh, great darkness there! He could touch him. The spirit drifted down quickly. The wizard hesitated, then ran.
********************************
A/N: Nest chapter, Marcus, Hermione and Severus meet.