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Lost Raven	By : Rosencrantz Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11004 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Author's Notes:
Robin:
I don't mind honest readers. In fact, I am glad that you care enough about my story to tell me how I could do better instead of simply stopping reading. Thanks for taking the time to review!
Chapter 9

Lucius sighed deeply, absentmindedly straightening his robes and pushing his hair back beneath the hood of his dark cloak as soon as the pull of the portkey vanished. He hated sunday nights. It was always the same. Activate the portkey, travel to only-Merlin-knew where, wait in some dark, dirty place that was sure to ruin his robes - or at least another cloak - and receive even more orders.
Tonight's location was a forest. And of course it just had to be deep, dark and damp. There were days - sundays of course - when he thought that the person he met picked these places just to annoy him. Not that he would ever voice that thought. He still had too much of the Malfoy survivor instinct. Even though he sometimes sincerely doubted that. He forced himself not to sigh again.

"You are late," a cold, male voice suddenly interrupted him. Lucius frowned. Why could he never hear the other approach? "Why was I here before you then?" he asked, frowning.

"What news do you have for me?" The other man asked instead, looming ominiously over Lucius. Somehow he managed to do that in spite of being smaller.

"My son received his orders." Lucius supressed a shudder. "And it seems that he has enlisted Severus to help him. I fear he may actually succeed."

"Snape." The stranger's voice was still cold, but a new tone had entered it. It was neither interest nor dismissal, just the necessity of knowing something. "How much do you know about Snape?"

"I know him well enough to know that he may be of too much help for Draco." Lucius paused, pretending to study a bat's quivering flight nearby. "I fear his allegiance undoubtedly lies on the other side."

The other was quiet for a while. His hood, which was filled with nothing but blackness, peered thoughtfully at the blond wizard. "So he is a traitor after all." The cold voice was emotionless again.

"I fear so," Lucius shook his head. "His return was nothing but a lie, he still clings to his old ways."

"I see." Another heavy silence hung deadly in the air.

"Sir?" Lucius' voice wobbled slightly. "Do I have your permission to proceed and rid us of the Snape problem?"

The blond wizard shivered as the seemingly empty cloak in front of him cocked its head as though deep in thought. "Aye," the stranger said after a while. "You have. Just make sure that he cannot return. I shall expect your report next sunday. The portkey will come to you."

"Yes, Sir." Lucius bowed slightly. When he looked up again, the soft breeze of chilly night air was once more his only companion. He hated sundays. Sighing deeply he caressed his ring, the portkey that would always bring him safely home. Now he had not only his son to worry about but also a Snape to get rid of. Life was unfair.

~***~

Monday morning started out just like it usually did. At precisely half past six the doors to the great hall flared open, revealing a tall, dark figure in billowing black robes. Severus strode through the hall, ignoring the half-scared, half-hateful glances the students were giving him. They always looked at him like that.
He forced his lips not to form into a satisfied smirk. They were still scared of him. It had to be a basic human instinct to fear that, which one cannot comprehend. It seemed to be one of the few things the dunderheads he was forced to teach were able to memorize for more than just a few, short seconds.
He stepped up to the head table, swivelled to the side and stopped dead in his tracks. And from there on things continued to go downhill for everyone. Something was wrong. Severus' baleful glare immediately settled on Minerva. How could she do this to im? Granted, he had been even less nicer to her lately than he usually was, but this was a decleration of war.
Suddenly he became aware of the surprised and curious glances aimed at him. Growling he continued his walk and slid gracefully into his seat, immediately pushing the basket of bread away, that was standing in front of his plate.

"Minerva." Severus' voice was cold enough to probably chill even Voldemort to the bone as he raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Where is the raspberry jam?"
Severus supressed another growl as Minerva just stared at him, mirroring his expression.

"I have no idea what you are talking about Severus." The bread basket charred over the table cloth as she pulled it back to its previous position. "The house elves are responsible for setting the table, not I."

"So you asked them not to serve any raspberry jam today."

"Really Severus," Minerva shook her head, nonchalantly heaping some blueberry jam onto her toast. "This is getting ridiculous. Do you have nothing else to worry about?"

"My dear friends," the headmaster's booming voice effectively cut off Severus' biting retort. "If I could have your attention for a moment."

Severus grimaced as another flash of pain stabbed through his temples. He hated the sonorous charm. Granted, it made one's voice louder, but it also gave him a headache. Always. Damn the headmaster.

"Now," the headmaster continued, glancing at the assembled students over the rim of his half-moon glasses. "As you all know, phoenixes are very rare in the wizarding world and thus very precious to us."
Severus stared at the headmaster in shock. Was Dumbledore just announcing that his phoenix had vanished? How stupid could a single person be?

"Yesterday evening I received a letter from a high-ranking ministry employee and... silence!" He called, waiting for the students' agitated whispers to die down. An eternity seemed to pass before he finally picked up his speech again. "A letter informing me, that a wild phoenix has been sighted in this area."
Snape's relieved sigh drowned in the collective surprised gasp. Obviously the headmaster was not as stupid as he had been inclined to believe.

"All residents of Hogwarts are hereby asked to report any sighting of a phoenix immeditely to me," Dumbledore finished. "I will then pass on the information to the people in charge of the search. Enjoy your breakfast." With a last nod at the quiet hall he sat down, grabbing another poached egg. He could only hope that one of them had seem Fawkes.

~***~

The whole school was alive with gossip. Harry frowned, as he once more climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower. Was there anything worse than Divination? Except for Snape and his potions, of course. There simply could be nothing worse than that.

"Harry!" Hermione's cheeks were reddened as she finally managed to catch up with her friend. "What is the matter today? You were the first one to leave the table." She was still breathing heavily, as she fell in step with Harry. "Seamus had a very interesting theory why the ministry could be searching for a wild phoenix and Neville..."

"Let me guess," Harry's voice was heavy with sarcasm ,"Neville is sure that Snape is trying to catch and kill the phoenix because he wants to eat him or use him in some dark and deathly potion."

"Why yes," Hermione's cheeks became even redder, "But really, Harry. There's no need to talk like that. You know how scared poor Neville is of him."

"Almost as scared as he is of Mrs Norris, I know," Harry waved absentmindedly at his friend. "Didn't you listen Mione? The ministry is searching for the phoenix. They'll know if Snape tries to kill it."

"But Harry!" Harry almost bumped into his friend as she suddenly stopped. "Phoenixes rarely leave their homes! They hate travelling. Someone must have forced the phoenix to leave or..."

"Or what?" Harry stepped resolutely around her. "Someone must have put it under the Imperius? You know that is impossible."

Hermione cocked her head, staring after Harry in wonder. He had never been so quick to dismiss an option only because it seemed impossible. Something about the way he behaved was off. Now, if she could only figure out what. And why.

~***~

"Harry! Get a grip on yourself! She could come in any minute now."

"Sorry 'Mione," Harry grimaced, absentmindedly rubbing his shin where Hermione had just kicked him. "Is it really necessary to almost break my bones?"

"Is it really necessary to almost fall asleep just because the teacher is late?" the ginger-haired girl retorted. Her scowl was almost murderous. "What if Trelawney walks in and you're snoring fitfully on your desk? You -"

"I'd be having the best divination lesson ever," Harry interrupted her, grinning wildly. "Calm down Mione, red is not the best colour for you face."

"Sometimes you even sound like him," Hermione huffed, shaking her head. "It's impossible."

Harry stared at his friend, genuine surprise evident in his gaze. "Sometimes I sound like whom?"

"Like Snape," his friend elaborated. "The thing about my blush could have been straight from him."

"Like Snape?" More than just a few strange glances settled on Harry as the boy-who-lived suddenly began to laugh. "Mione, I would rather kill myself than say anything that sounds like Snape!"

Hermione just shook her head at her laughing friend. No matter how much Harry denied it, sometimes talking to him was exactly like talking to Snape. Or at least like she imagined talking to Snape would be like.

"What is he doing here?"

Harry's surprised question suddenly interrupted her thoughts. She quickly forced her mouth to close again as her gaze encountered a star-spangled robe in front of the class.

"Thanks for calming down so quickly children," Dumbledore's smile was just as warm as always but his eyes seemed to have lost their twinkle. "I am sorry to inform you, that your lesson has been cancelled. Professor Trelawney has suddenly been called away on urgent business and we have not managed to find a substitute teacher on such short notice. You all have a free peroid to enjoy. Or to sleep a little longer," he added with a conspiratory glance at Harry.

"Sir?"

Harry groaned. Of course Hermione just had to be the first one to ask a question.

Dumbledore's robes sparkled in time with his smile. "Yes Miss Granger?"

"How long will Professor Trelawney be away? And will there be a substitute teacher and..."

"Now, now, Miss Granger," Dumbledore scowled briefly at a crystal ball but quickly smiled again. "There is no need to panick. You will still learn everything you have to know for your exams."

"Yes Sir." Hermione was still a little breathless. "Thank you."

Harry's frown deeped as his gaze met the headmaster's. Which kind of business could probably draw Trelawney away from the teaching position she was so proud of? And why now, right after she had made another prediction? The last prediction before the one about the chalice had been the one about his birth. Harry's green eyes narrowed throughtfully. The chalice had to be important. Maybe even more important than the raven.

"Sweet Merlin..." he choked as a thought suddenly invaded his mind. Trelawney had said that the bird would lead them to the chalice. What if the bird she had meant was not the raven but perhaps the wild phoenix? And if Snape was really trying to kill the phoenix, then Voldemort had to know Trelawney's last propecy as well. Maybe Voldemort even knew what the prophecy was supposed to mean. Or he was trying to find out. Harry's hand froze in midair, never reaching the quill he had been reaching for. What if Voldemort did not know what the prophecy meant and was trying to find out? What if that was the reason for Trelawney's absence? Would the headmaster lie to them?

"Harry?" Hermione asked for the third time, shaking her friend's elbow. "Are you coming? We can spend the free period in the library and.. Harry?" Her shocked eyes stared after her friend, who had just left her standing in the middle of the empty classroom.
"What in Merlin's name is the matter with you?" She whispered, already running after the green-eyed Gryffindor. He had never left her like that before, no matter how deep in thought he was. The frown that was etched onto her face only deepened. A lot of people were behaving strangely lately. What if everything was connected somehow?

"Ouch!" The floor raced towards her, right after she had rounded the corner and hid something solid. Dazed she stared at the hand offered to her.

"Let me help you up," a smooth voice offered. "Are you unhurt?"

Hermione was at a loss for words as she stared at the concerned face in front of her. Draco Malfoy was being nice. What was the world coming to?

~***~

She whimpered in her sleep-like state as the small, scrawny boy reached for her, his dark brown eyes alight with happiness.
"Raven!"

She smiled softly at the boy, gently picking the six-year old up. "Hello there, my little one. Have you missed me?"

"Always," dirty hands entangled themselves in her hair. "Why did you go flying again?"

"I had to visit someone." Raven brushed some twigs out of her path as she picker her way through the shrubbery. The woods around her were of a sparkling green, almost glittering like sun-caressed emeralds. Flowers sprang up from the lush grass, that was richly interwoven with an intricate web of moss. Everything seemed to be more alive here than it was on the mainland, even the smallest plants and animals.

"Are your parents home?" She asked instead as they finally reached a stony path, that led them steadily uphill.

"Mum's with the speaking stones," the boy told her, his head resting against her shoulder and his long, black hair fanning out over her simple woollen dress. "She's preparing the ritual for Cuda." He paused for a moment. "Will you teach me to fly? Just like you?"

"Maybe I will one day, my little Raven." The boy turned immediately back to her as she set him down. "But not today. No," she held up her hand, already knowing his next question. "And not tomorrow, either. You are still too small."

"But I want to become a real raven too!"

Raven whimpered again, helplessly rolling to the side as the coldness of her surroundings once more invaded her body and thoughts. She knew that it was nothing but a dream, nothing but a memory. The boy she had once loved so much had become someone else, had been living as somebody else for longer than she dared to think. And she hated to speculate on what the darkness he had chosen to taint himself with might have turned him into. But still he was calling for her. Always calling for her in her sleep, in her visions. She knew that he needed her, her little Raven needed her and yet she was unable to help, was unable to face what he had become.

For just a moment she opened her green eyes, but even the dim light in the cave was too much to bear. "Master..." she whispered, as another picture entered her mind. She was standing in a cave with the boy, reassuringly squeezing his hands. A green-golden glow filled the room, softening the shadows on the brown stonewalls. A few small trees were scattered around the cave, opening to a clearing in the middle. At the east side of the clearing lay a statue, which seemed to sleep on a bed of moss and wild roses. It was the statue of a tall, bulky man with shoulderlong hair and a ruggedly handsome face. He looked peaceful and content in spite of the sword in his hands. Ancient runes covered the sword and the armour he was wearing. The silver metal of the mailshirt bore a stark contrast to the red dragon that was curled protectively around his stony body.

"He needs you," a male voice she had not heard for centuries whispered in her mind. "He needs you Raven, he is lost."
"I cannot help him..." she whispered helplessly, not even noticing that she was turning into her bird form. "I have been asleep for so long... how could I face the world outside again?"

The vision vanished and merciful blackness and silence ruled her sleep once more. She knew she was needed, knew that there was a war, but she could not go. She had made her decision years ago, when a dark wizard had risen. A wizard she had been unable to stop, because the Morrigan had decided to use him for her own, misguided purposes. She would not leave her cave again and instead sleep and dream on, always hoping that one day the gentle touch of death would reach for her and finally break the gift the Great Mother had given her.
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Lost Raven