The Guardian

The Guardian
by M. Starlight

This is an idea I'm working with, please give me feedback!


The smell of smoke overpowered Severus Snape; had him coughing as he quickly brandished his wand, aiming squirts of water everywhere he could to no avail. His eyes burned, but the man kept them open as he stolidly made his way through the small country home, searching for any sign of life.

Dumbledore had called him, drat the aging wizard. Called him up in the middle of the night, just as Severus had been relaxing into his most favorite armchair with a mug of ale and a grave headache after dealing with a bunch of bird-brained numbskulls and facing the grim prospect of endless reams of papers to grade. He wondered why on earth he had ever offered to fill in as a temporary Professor at Hogwarts. It must have been during a moment of insanity when Severus had been terminally bored of spending life as a carefree Death Eater for the most terrifying Dark Lord the wizarding world had ever known, as well as being the secret member of the Order of the Phoenix, as well as attempting to keep his own shoddy affairs at the Snape Manor in order. After all, wasn't teaching such a gratifying job?- shaping young minds, helping to build the next generation... what a bunch of Merlin's molding bullocks.

The honest answer was that Albus Dumbledore was not a man to be refused, and Severus well knew it. But this... this was really pushing the limits of Severus' loosely reined patience.

As if the latter occupations weren't enough, he was now being utilized as a man of labor. It was enough to drive a man mad, not to mention leading him on the fast track to an early death. At the young age of one and twenty, Severus rarely had more than a handful of hours of sleep, forget about a social life. Not that he was a very accomodating person by any stretch, but a man does need his small diversions.

While Snape had been enjoying the precious moments of solitude and quiet in his own home, the marble fireplace had flared vibrantly green and out had come the old wizard, his robes dusty with the ashes. Severus, having spent long hours with the older man, immediately noted the lusterless look in the normally twinkling azure eyes and sighed, "What now, Albus?" Perhaps it hadn't been the politest of responses, but he had to be cut some slack. He had been extremely weary.

"I haven't the time to explain now, but there is a crisis at hand. Work of your master's. You must go, in utter secret. Here's my Invisibility Cloak. You must save the girl."

"Albus... what on earth are you-"

The wizard's eyes flashed. "No time for that! All will be clear later! Go!" And with that, Severus had been shoved a glowing Portkey and pulled to the devastation before him.

Cursing his ill luck, he drew the folds of the invisibility cloak tightly around him, careful that no part of his body be revealed. The Death Eaters assigned to this might still be on the premises, and he could not take a chance at being seen.

Before entering, Severus murmured "Repellio Flareus", a spell that would repel fire from him and kept his wand poised at the ready, though tucked beneath the sleeve of the cloak. He was appalled at the sight of destruction, though he should have been used to it by now. The revels of the Dark Lord were always quite gruesome.

Still, he had to swallow back the acrid vomit that rose to his throat at the sight of the dismembered bodies that lay charring, the faces of which he knew he would never forget. The metallic, sickly sweet odor of blood mixed with the burning heat of the fire nearly made Severus dizzy, but he went on, looking for the girl that couldn't possibly have survived Voldemort's attack, from the looks of it.


He was about to give up when he heard voices from upstairs. Swiftly and silently, Severus made his way up the stairs, listening to the conversation between two Death Eaters.

"Not a sight of the little Mudblood bitch! They must have had warning," growled one disgustedly, who Severus could immediately tell was Crabbe from the deep grunt of his voice.

"Well, you know what that means. We're going to have to search the whole goddamned forest. Search the entire village if we have to... we're going to find her and bring her dead carcass to the Dark Lord," responded another Death Eater. Severus stiffened. It was Lucius Malfoy.

"We can have our fun with her, can't we?" Crabbe asked eagerly. "Ain't nothing more I like than fresh pussy!"

"She's a Mudblood, Crabbe. Hardly worth the long scrubbing you'll require to take her filth off you," said Malfoy in his coldest tones. "But you may do as you wish."

Crabbe laughed gutturally. "Aye, Malfoy, aye."

Without knowing what he was doing, the wizard hissed, "Accio Wands!" The two wizards' wands hurtled into his hand, and the Death Eaters swirled around with a snarl, wondering who dared to commit this act against them.

Severus' hood slipped down at this very moment, leaving his features open to speculation. Lucius Malfoy's cold gray eyes narrowed, his lips curling upward and downwards simultaneously into a crooked grimace that promised retribution. "Why, Snape, imagine you being here."

Crabbe on the other hand was bristling with anger, every muscle in his thickset body straining against his extra-large robes. "You'll die for this treachery, scum!" he yelled, hurtling towards the slim man. Before he could do bodily harm to Severus, the quick wizard had cast a Full-Body Bind on him and Crabbe had fallen with a heavy thud onto the floor.

"He's right, you know. The Lord will hear of this and you will die," Lucius said quietly, his gaze malicious. "But really, I shouldn't be surprised. You do consort with that Mudblood loving fool, Albus Dumbledore... that sort of thing does rub off."

Severus didn't even blink. "Obliviate," he said silkily.

*

The girl was fast, quicker than the wind and as silent as the stars, as her father had laughingly said. She was running now, using this advantage of speed, as well as the energy of youth, to run and run, away from the burning ruins that had once been her home.

Tears were tracking their way down her dirt smeared cheeks, but no sobs escaped her lips. She couldn't cry, even though a knob of pain had lodged itself down her throat that she could not manage to get down, no matter how much she swallowed. If she made so much as a whimper, she would be dead.

She knew in her heart that her parents had perished. She had heard their screams, the agonizing tear of flesh, the gush of crimson blood. Even as her mother had pushed her out the door, whispering at her violently to run away, she had seen the whole thing in her mind. She had seen the man, his silvery hair like woven moonlight, his eyes like glaciers. Inhuman eyes. Eyes that had watched death as it passed through his fingers.

"Let them die as Muggles," he had said, although by then she was so far away that it was impossible that she could hear him. What were muggles and why were they after them? Why had they come to kill her?

She fell to her knees, uncaring of the mud that would befoul the muslin gown, her chest heaving with her efforts. Hiding behind a thick, knotted tree, her mind sped. Why had they come? Her parents were not involved in any illicit activities. They were a simple merchanting family, with no royal ties or even much money. Then, it struck her as horror sped through her veins.

They must have been witch hunters. From the moment of her birth, the girl had been different from any other children in the village. She had changed her mother's milk to sparkling cider as a mere babe apparently, and caused the most beautiful flowers to bloom in her bedroom at night. When she was angered, sparks of blue flew around her. Many people in the village avoided her, as a matter of fact, always crossing themselves if they saw the small, bushy haired little girl playing by the riverside.

With her sorcery, the girl had led her parents to a horrible death. At that terrible thought, she started to weep, ugly sounds creeping from her throat. What did it matter if she were to die? She had nothing to live for anymore. Perhaps she should now throw herself into the dark deep river that flowed dangerously at this time of year. Yes, it was a fitting demise.

She teetered over the edge of the gorge, looking out into the blackness of the water. Closing her eyes, she got ready to take her final step when she heard someone snap angrily, "You foolish girl, what do you think you are doing?"

With a gasp of surprise, Hermione fell.

*

For the umpteenth time that night, Severus Snape cursed Albus' long curling nose hairs. He heard the plop of a body falling into water, and after swearing wildly for another few seconds, Severus plunged in after her.

The icy water slashed straight to his heart, piercing through his organs and forcing a gasp of pain to escape from his lips. Sluggishly, Severus cut through the churning dark river, trying desperately to grasp for the girl's small body.

Each movement evoked pain, and required more energy. Just swishing his legs was a huge effort, and Severus was quickly becoming tired.

"Lumos!" he gurgled, casting his wand furiously through the river as he swam, and feeling a rush of relief when he saw a damp tangle of bushy brown hair about ten feet from him.

"You are one lucky witch," he ground out, clutching the small girl to his chest as he Apparated them both to Hogwarts.

*

Lady Pomfrey, a distant cousin of Dumbledore's and a renowned Healer, gasped when she saw Severus Snape rap at her door. Her gray curls escaping out of her chignon, she clutched a heavy robe and tied it at the waist before opening it.

"Severus, what can you be doing here at this hour?" she whispered, her weak blue eyes round with wonder. She cried out when she saw the wrapped bundle in his arms, dripping and shivering.

"She needs medical attention right away, Poppy," Severus said grittily, blinking as water trickled into his eyes. Without further ado, Poppy nodded and told the young man to follow her as she walked quickly to a spare bedroom.

He laid the girl down on the bed, and looked at her for the first time that night. Whoever she was that Dumbledore had found so necessary to save, the chit didn't look like much. The girl seemed to be made up mostly of her hair, which was wildly bushy and seemed to be very dark. She was small and fine-boned, even for a child, and she looked all of eight years old. Her clumped lashes were startlingly black against the opaque paleness of her skin, but that might have just been from the icy cold of the night. It had been a chilly November, and with that dipping in the river...

Poppy shooed him away, withdrawing her wand and prodding the unconscious girl with it. "She seems to be all right, although she has a slight cold. I'll make her some of my peppermint tea, and she'll be right in a jiffy," she said relievedly.

Nodding curtly, Severus left the room, closing the door behind him softly. Being wretchedly cold, he used a Drying spell which helped matters considerably but still left him with an awful sense of vulnerability. He could still feel the roiling water ram against him. Shuddering, Severus decided he could use a cup of hot tea along with an explanation, in Dumbledore's office.

"Severus," Albus stood up when he heard the door creak open. He winced at the sight of the tall young man before him, looking utterly miserable and wretched. "I trust it was not an easy night," the old wizard sighed, settling back into his chair. "Please, take a seat."

The dark-haired man did so, his eyes on Albus' the entire time.

"Why were the Death Eaters after her? Who is she?" he asked suddenly.

Dumbledore sighed. "It's complicated."

"Albus... " Severus said warningly.

"I will tell you in simple terms. That witch that you saved tonight may very well be the single hope of wizardkind winning against Voldemort," the wizard said, his blue eyes solemn.

Utter silence. Then- "Well, then we're screwed, aren't we?"