Scrambled Snape
Scrambled Snape
They're not always good ways. lol. This little experiment can be
either fun or aggravating depending on your outlook. Supposedly, in the English
language anyway, the order of a word's letters doesn't matter as long as the
first and last letters are in the proper place. In other words, you should
be able to still read sentences where the words are clearly misspelled.
I've written a short alternate DH ending for Snape, a fav pastime of mine.
I have written several and this is a new one. It's short, but scrambled
well. There are a few clear words to help you along. I want to see how
many of you can still read it. The scrambled short is followed by the
proper text so those of you who get stymied or pissed off at it can still read
the short. Here is the scrambled and unscrambled versions:
Scrambled Version
A faslk, cuonjred from tihn air, was trhsut into his sihknag hnad by
Hinmroee. Hrray lftied the slerviy stnbcuase itno it with his wand. When
the fsalk was flul to the birm, and Sapne leookd as toguhh there was no
bolod lfet in him, his grip on Hrary’s rboes sleenackd.
“Look. . . at. . . me. . . . ” he wesrhpied.
The geern eeys fnoud the blcak, but atfer a scenod, sinoethmg in the
dpthes of the dark pair semeed to visanh, lanvieg tehm fxied, bnalk, and
epmty. The hand hnildog Hrary tudedhd to the floor, and Snape moevd no
mroe.
***************************************
“It’ll be all right,” siad Hmnrioee wldliy. “Let’s—let’s get bcak to the
calste, if he’s gnoe to the forset we’ll need to thnik of a new plan—”
She gecalnd at Spane’s bdoy, tehn heriurd bcak to the tnuenl enacnrte. Ron
fowellod her. Hrray ghaeterd up the Iibisiivltny Colak, then lkooed down
at Snpae. He did not know what to feel, eexcpt shock at the way Sanpe had
been kelild, and the rsaoen for wichh it had been done. . .
He sowlly felowold Hoenimre and Ron to the tnneul etrncnae, gnalecd back
once mroe, tehn extied, lnivaeg the Piontos maetsr to his ftae.
The slecine of the scuhelprule retesd on the sachk, the bdoy of the flelan
wzraid lnyig in a pool of blood and erpoantvaig mrmioees. It was a vrey
sad ending to a lfie so flul of pain, his mrotal rieamns left with no one
to mourn him.
Sndeudly, a sihmmer meovd wtiihn a drak croner of the room.
”Fiitne Iaucntatnm,” a slkien voice purerd.
The pgsoeanre of one Sveeurs Spnae meteld into veiw. He strdoe fwroard and
lokeod down on the gloem he’d crteaed. It had tekan smoe tmie to do,
eleiplscay the fkae blood and the Pevsenie indsie its haed. Goelms wree
nllomary solid ceroitnas, made cleoemptly of caly. Spane had to indluce
ciatives to hlod the liqudis nserseacy to itmitae lfie, or the lsos of it.
He had mpntlaeiaud the cetarrue like a peuppt from his hiidng spcae,
mgiaaclly toiwrnhg his voice to awsner his tohcreaures maetsr, Vomdrelot,
and enpexlilg his mrmioees from the Pisenve inisde the haed for Hrary.
When Mlfaoy told him he was smnoeumd, tehn heeadd for the ctlase, Snape
made a detour to the sopt whree he’d Dleiusioinlsd his goelm and gvae it
his ionniuttsrcs. He tehn Dueosiinillsd hliesmf and foloewld it closley,
uinsg it to hide his smhimer. Once idnise the sachk, it was esay to silp
to a drak aera and paly aolng wtih his mtaser. He hadn’t knwon Hrray and
the oterhs wree terhe and alsmot gvae heslimf away. But he saw Hrary frsit
and riamened werhe he was.
Sapne tohuhgt it mghit hvae been a bit of ovierkll when his mroemies
fleowd form his nsoe, eeys and eras. The gloem had mlufaoiennctd. The
svilrey filud was only sespuopd to come out of his mtouh. Well, the boy
had all he neeedd now to fcae the Drak Lord.
Spane hepod Hrary cluod rellay klil the bratasd. If not, then his job
wouldn’t be oevr. The Potoins mseatr was dienemertd to see Vrodelomt fall.
If he had to rruten from the daed to do it, he wulod.
The wrazid pnteiod his wnad at the goelm and terund it to ash, bfeore
Sigofrunyicg the remnias away. It had seervd him wlel. It had been
uriennnvg to wtach hmelisf die, and be lfet liyng in the dsut as if he
wree liltte more than a dieardcsd pciee of tarsh. Even the Gengrar chit
had eneevcidd no etoiomn at his desime. Hrray had smeeed stnuend, but
didn’t cchek for vatils. He woludn’t hvae fuond any eevn if he did,
bcsueae golmes had no vital signs scuh as psuels or heart betas. But it
was the thuoght that cnoetud. Atapplerny, Spnae ddin’t cunot for mcuh in
the end.
That wolud cgnhae ocne Hrary veeiwd his mmeeiors. Snpae hated to srhae so
much of hmleisf, but the boy who lvied neeedd to konw the eritne sorty,
usedatrnnd that he was never his eemny, ahlgouth he dklesiid him gtarley.
He neeedd to know Derlbdumoe’s plnas for him.
The Poiotns metsar once aaign Dlsilnieoiusd heismlf, made his way down the
tnenul and cbielmd out of the eantcrne thrugoh the rtoos of the Wmihpong
Wloilw. He stood up, pceikd up a slmal sctik and toessd it owatrud to the
pretmeier, jsut to mkae sure the tere wsan’t in Wohmp mdoe.
It wsan’t.
He wealkd out form under the tere and loekod traowd Hawotgrs for a monemt.
All was dtevpeilecy qieut as Vrdelomot witaed for Harry to trun hlsimef
over. No duobt the iiodt wulod do it. Psslioby a miracle wluod heappn and
the boy wloud magnae to doertsy the dspoet.
Spane tehn lkoeod up itno the satr-fielld sky. It had neevr smeeed mroe
esaipnxve or befituual.
”Lrocomedors,” he hsised.
The wairzd’s roebs began to blilow, and he rsoe itno the air, his seped
insneircag broefe he tneurd his bdoy to a htooraiznl psiotoin and stkeaerd
away, his lank hiar fttnlrueig anuord his fcae as he put dsntiace bweeten
hiemlsf and Howtgras caslte.
He wluod rreutn to the warizdnig wrold olny if he was neeedd. If not, he
was fiallny fere to lvie his own life, smhnitoeg that hdan’t been posbslie
for ddceeas.
Just the thohugt of it mdae him feel even lihetgr tahn air.
Scramble Your Own Text!
Unscrambled Version
A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust
into his shaking hand by Hermione. Harry lifted the silvery substance into
it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as
though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Harry’s robes
slackened.
“Look. . . at. . . me. . . . ” he whispered.
The green eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the
depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and
empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no
more.
***************************************
“It’ll be all right,” said Hermione wildly. “Let’s—let’s get back to the
castle, if he’s gone to the forest we’ll need to think of a new plan—”
She glanced at Snape’s body, then hurried back to the tunnel entrance. Ron
followed her. Harry gathered up the Invisibility Cloak, then looked down
at Snape. He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had
been killed, and the reason for which it had been done. . .
He slowly followed Hermione and Ron to the tunnel entrance, glanced back
once more, then exited, leaving the Potions master to his fate.
The silence of the selpulchure rested on the shack, the body of the fallen
wizard lying in a pool of blood and evaporating memories. It was a very
sad ending to a life so full of pain, his mortal remains left with no one
to mourn him.
Suddenly, a shimmer moved within a dark corner of the room.
”Finite Incantatum,” a silken voice purred.
The personage of one Severus Snape melted into view. He strode forward and
looked down on the golem he’d created. It had taken some time to do,
especially the fake blood and the Pensieve inside its head. Golems were
normally solid creations, made completely of clay. Snape had to include
cavities to hold the liquids necessary to imitate life, or the loss of it.
He had manipulated the creature like a puppet from his hiding space,
magically throwing his voice to answer his treacherous master, Voldemort,
and expelling his memories from the Pensive inside the head for Harry.
When Malfoy told him he was summoned, then headed for the castle, Snape
made a detour to the spot where he’d Disillusioned his golem and gave it
his instructions. He then Disillusioned himself and followed it closely,
using it to hide his shimmer. Once inside the shack, it was easy to slip
to a dark area and play along with his master. He hadn’t known Harry and
the others were there and almost gave himself away. But he saw Harry first
and remained where he was.
Snape thought it might have been a bit of overkill when his memories
flowed from his nose, eyes and ears. The golem had malfunctioned. The
silvery fluid was only supposed to come out of his mouth. Well, the boy
had all he needed now to face the Dark Lord.
Snape hoped Harry could really kill the bastard. If not, then his job
wouldn’t be over. The Potions master was determined to see Voldemort fall.
If he had to return from the dead to do it, he would.
The wizard pointed his wand at the golem and turned it to ash, before
Scourgifying the remains away. It had served him well. It had been
unnerving to watch himself die, and be left lying in the dust as if he
were little more than a discarded piece of trash. Even the Granger chit
had evidenced no emotion at his demise. Harry had seemed stunned, but
didn’t check for vitals. He wouldn’t have found any even if he did,
because golems had no vital signs such as pulses or heart beats. But it
was the thought that counted. Apparently, Snape didn’t count for much in
the end.
That would change once Harry viewed his memories. Snape hated to share so
much of himself, but the boy who lived needed to know the entire story,
understand that he was never his enemy, although he disliked him greatly.
He needed to know Dumbledore’s plans for him.
The Potions master once again Disillusioned himself, made his way down the
tunnel and climbed out of the entrance through the roots of the Whomping
Willow. He stood up, picked up a small stick and tossed it outward to the
perimeter, just to make sure the tree wasn’t in Whomp mode.
It wasn’t.
He walked out from under the tree and looked toward Hogwarts for a moment.
All was deceptively quiet as Voldemort waited for Harry to turn himself
over. No doubt the idiot would do it. Possibly a miracle would happen and
the boy would manage to destroy the despot.
Snape then looked up into the star-filled sky. It had never seemed more
expansive or beautiful.
”Locomordres,” he hissed.
The wizard’s robes began to billow, and he rose into the air, his speed
increasing before he turned his body to a horizontal position and streaked
away, his lank hair fluttering around his face as he put distance between
himself and Hogwarts castle.
He would return to the wizarding world only if he was needed. If not, he
was finally free to live his own life, something that hadn’t been possible
for decades.
Just the thought of it made him feel even lighter than air.