Corvus Fallere | By : Mouse Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 7248 -:- 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 2
"Come now, Mr. Potter, you can't have truly believed that Hogwarts hadn't fallen before now? With your illustrious presence gone, the whole light side simply rolled over. The fighting has been over with for months." Snape gestured vaguely with one hand; the other held a tumbler of liquid that he sipped while he reclined on the large pillows, back against the stone wall.
We were sitting with Snape in a shadowed alcove, somewhat unwillingly watching the auction. There were many more people here, now, as the audience gathered and they brought out more merchandise. I recognized students that had gone missing before us, and some that I had thought had escaped, as well as many people who were not familiar. The three of us had been separated from the rest before it had begun and had been told to sit here. Snape soon joined us, giving the three of us water and commenting snarkily on our despondency. I had replied, "What's the point of fighting, if Hogwarts has been turned into a slave market?"
Snape's eyebrows had drawn down, and stayed that way. He was baiting me now, I could tell, but I just didn't feel up to rising to his challenge. I didn't answer his question, only rested my head on the overstuffed pillows.
Ron was abnormally quiet; curled up on his side on a pillow, he appeared to be looking at the stage, but his eyes were shadowed and blank. One finger after another journeyed to his mouth to be slowly striped of the nail. He'd be down to blood, soon, I though absently. Hermione had her arms around her knees and was weeping softly, I think. I didn't blame her; I wanted to cry myself, but my eyes were hot and dry.
On stage a Death Eater held a struggling Lavender. He had stripped the tatters of her robe off, and was holding up by her wrists, her toes barely touching the floor. The last few months had melted almost a stone from her, I saw, and she had the patina of grime that we all had acquired. At least they let her keep her underwear, I thought. The audience was disturbingly silent; I could hear her pants and cries clearly as they turned her.
"Ah, Miss Brown. She'll go to House Dorcas, almost certainly." Snape's voice was conversational.
"House Dorcas?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.
"Yes, Mr. Potter. Even new world orders have their factions. House Dorcas is comprised of sweet, lean things. Easy on the eye." His eyes roamed over Lavender. "I don't think that the others will try to outbid Dorcas this early on."
"But what is House Dor-"
"Hush. Watch."
Shrugging, I did as he said. I just didn't feel like fighting anymore. I felt as though I was wrapped in cotton wool, muffling my feelings. Before all of this happened, I'd have been trying to figure out how to get his wand, how to strangle him with the pillow fringe, how to get out of here. Now it didn't seem to matter.
Sure enough, after some unspoken signal, Lavender was "Purchased by House Dorcas, in the name of Our Lord." I shot a look at Snape. He was grinning smugly, eyes somehow amused and irritated.
"I told you. Predictable. I don't know why we pretend to auction you off; you go to whom you belong with anyway. I chance I can guess at least seventy-five percent of this batch."
I roused myself again, a bit of annoyance at his offhanded manner seeping through my dejection. "So good at slave auctions, Snape? Attend many?"
"Actually, yes. One is expected to go to these things, when one holds my position." He rested his head on the wall behind him, looking at me through half lidded eyes.
"Oh, and what would that be? Prince Bastard?"
He snorted. "Hardly. I think that even you'd agree that there are worse men than I in line for *that* throne. No, I hold the only position that I would want in this new world."
"And that is?"
"Head of House Corvus."
It was my turn to snort. "House Crow? How appropriate. I always thought you looked like a carrion eater." I half expected him to hit me for the insult, but he just gave a sharp bark of laughter.
"I suppose I would to you, Mr. Potter. Now, shall we see if my predictions are correct?" He turned his attention back to the auction.
A small, angry looking boy was pushed on stage. I vaguely recognized him as a Hufflepuff a year behind me. To my surprise he was viciously fighting the Death Eater attempting to remove his robe. The spectators laughed as the Death Eater suddenly howled; the Hufflepuff had gotten his teeth into his hand and was holding on tight.
"Ah. That one. House Hystrix, unquestionably."
He was right. In fact, he was right every time. I sat, watching my friends and schoolmates auctioned into House Hystrix, Dorcas, Ovis, or Acredula. Eventually Snape seemed to tire of his game, and shut his eyes. I followed suit; I felt like I could sleep for a hundred years, or maybe forever.
I woke to a terrible ruckus. Snape was standing with his back to the three of us, arguing with a short, bristly man in a brown robe that I could barely see from my prone position. I decided to stay put; sometimes you hear more when you are "asleep' than you are supposed to. I couldn't make out what they were arguing about at first, but I soon found out.
"You can't do that!" the short man was saying angrily.
"I am the host of this auction, and I can do whatever I please, Hystrix." Snape said, his arms folded across his chest. "I get first pick and I pick them."
"But" But those three are celebrities! Ovis, Acredula, back me up. We won't stand for this. You can't deny us the chance to bid on them!"
"I can and I have."
"You can't just claim Harry Potter, for Rasputin's sake, Corvus! He" He undoubtedly belongs in Hystrix."
"I disagree, Hystrix. All three of them belong in Corvus, and even if they were the dead-eyed wretches that Ovis takes, they would still be Corvus'. End of discussion. Or do I have to trouble our Lord with this?"
I could hear the raised eyebrow in that statement. I propped myself on one elbow to catch Hystrix's expression; I thought he would pass out for a moment, his face was so red. I also noticed him fingering a long coil of worn leather clipped to the sash on his robe. A whip, he was wearing a whip. And he looked like he would like to take it to Snape, right this second. A shudder ripped through me; this was the man in charge of that Hufflepuff boy, this angry, sadistic fellow. I was suddenly, pathetically grateful to Snape; the evil you know, or think you know, anyway, is better than the unknown. I wanted to hex this man, hit him, anger boiling up out of me suddenly, burning off the haze of despondency. I found myself glaring at Hystrix, pushing myself into a seated position.
"Fah, you've even got the damn boy on your side. You probably started training all of them before our victory, despoiling them over the classroom table while marking assignments. Soiled already. I swear to you, Corvus, one of these days the Lord is going to see you for what you are, you and those"—things you turn out, and purge the lot of you. No proper training or manners. Good riddance to the lot of you." Hystrix stalked off, his robe billowing behind him.
Snape turned to look at me, eyebrow raised almost to the hairline. "Isn't he pleasant? At least that farce is over. Up, now. I promised you a bath after that little... display."
I scrambled to stand, glancing at Hermione standing at my side. Ron hadn't moved.
"Ron? Come on, mate, get up now." I shook his shoulder, but he didn't move. I noticed that he hadn't touched his water; indeed, he looked like he hadn't moved at all since curling up there, other than to mangle his poor bloodied fingernails. I glanced at Snape warily. I didn't want Ron to be hurt, but I didn't think I could carry him.
"Mr. Weasley still upset? Hmmm. Can't have one of you down on me. Move, Potter." Snape had his wand out and was pointing it at Ron. I shielded him with my body. Hermione only stared absently at the stage where the last of the audience was leaving, new "possessions' in tow.
"Don't! I'll carry him, just give me a moment."
"Really, Mr. Potter, all this macho posing is unnecessary. I am merely going to move your lethargic friend so that we may be on our way. I didn't go to the trouble of assuring you away from Hystrix and his bunch to kill you in the courtyard. Think, you stupid boy, and get out of my way."
I did, watching in mute silence as Snape cast a spell on Ron, who rose smoothly and stood without any sense returning to his eyes. Snape moved behind him, guiding him with a hand on the small of his back. Ron walked forward obediently, moving with an alien grace. I looked away; Ron's body without Ron's mind guiding it was disturbing, to say the least.
We left the bright courtyard by one of the arched doorways. I blinked, blinded by the sudden darkness inside. As my eyes adjusted I looked over to see how Hermione was doing. She had risen at Snape's command, and followed us along the hallway, but I could tell that she wasn't all right. Although she was now dry-eyed, her face was strangely empty, devoid of any emotion, as it had been since she stood up in the courtyard. This wasn't good. I threaded my fingers through hers as we walked behind Snape and Ron, giving the cold digits a comforting squeeze.
"Hey, at least we're still together, aren't we?" I said quietly to her. "I mean, like you said, if they wanted us separated, they'd have done it by now, right?"
She nodded mutely, clinging to my hand. Her eyes scanned the halls, noting passageways and doors absently. I saw her flinch every time she passed a door that bore the outline of the missing Hogwarts shield. I did too, but she seemed so... lost. I don't think that I liked a Hermione without hope; she looked too much like those people back in the big stone room right before they wouldn't get up anymore. Would Hermione refuse to get up in the morning? Just lie there and waste away, like we watched Gilderoy Lockhart do? I quivered, thinking of her face with sunken eyes, like his right before the end, or her hair brittle and dead, breaking as Lockhart's did when we carried his body to the door.
"We're ok, 'Mione, I swear. Just hold on for a little longer, ok? Snape said we get to bathe, won't that be nice? I haven't bathed in warm water in so long! And we can wash our hair. Weren't you just talking yesterday about trying to get that tangle out of your hair with banana paste? Gee, Hermione, I would have never thought of that, using banana paste as hair stuff."
Her hand came up slowly to touch the back of her head, where the lion's share of her curly hair had ratted into a sizeable snarl. "It's... the fructose in the fruit should... Should briefly lubricate the— the— the—" she trailed off, blinking owlishly in the light. "Harry? Where are we going?" she said, sounding more cognizant of her surroundings than she had been since she collapsed.
I felt my face splitting into a grin. "To take a bath, I think. He," and here I motioned to Snape with my chin, "said that we stink like half-dead muskrats and need to bathe."
"I would think we would, after only being able to sponge for a few minutes a day with no soap. Why's he — well, not nice exactly, but civil?"
Will telling her what went on back in the square send her bonkers again? I thought, Or will she be mad if I don't tell her? I responded with a lopsided shrug.
I felt her eyes on me, narrowing in thought. She knew something was up, I could tell, but I didn't know what to say, in any case.
Another set of double doors loomed at the end of the hallway, these emblazoned with a large shield bearing a raven in flight, crossed with ropes. I couldn't tell if the bird was being restrained, or if it was breaking free.
"House Corvis" Snape said shortly, and steered Ron to the side. Ron stopped when Snape let go of his arms and stood staring at the wall, still moving under Snape's Puppetous Charm. Hermione and I gently took his arms and moved him backwards so that he stood between us, facing the door. Snape glanced at us, a quick sideways movement of his head, before turning to the door itself. He reached out with one pale hand to touch the raven on the shield, and he didn't jump when it suddenly shuttered into life and turned its bright eye to him.
It cawed, cracking its beak together loudly. Snape made a similar noise, though how he did it was anybody's guess. I didn't thinking that type of noise could come out of a human being. But, then again, we've had no real proof that Snape is human, I thought, grumpily.
The raven cawed again, then sputtered a soft cry and butted its head up against Snape's hand. He scratched its chin briefly, and it returned to the shield. The door creaked open, swinging inwards. Snape motioned for us to precede him, with a sweep of those big, noisy sleeves.
This hall was more what I had expected before, when we entered the courtyard. Huge and dark, lined with torches and rich tapestries along the walls. Off to the right there was a large desk facing the room, with shelves behind it and a great open book displayed prominently on its surface. Snape steered us over to it, and I watched as the last of the sunlight disappeared from the room as the great wooden door of House Corvus swung shut.
"Sign the book, Potter," Snape said, handing me the quill.
"Why? What is it?"
Snape sighed, rolling his eyes a bit, but surprised me by answering despite his obvious annoyance. "It's a register of who is currently in House Corvus. Once you sign in, the Book will know where you are, as long as you remain inside the House. If you leave it— well, it knows you're gone, anyway. If only I'd had one of these for school, eh, Potter? I'm sure it would be useful to have a record of where everyone is if one were to go sneaking about, wouldn't it?" His sharp black eyes locked on mine, his lip curling slightly. I started back, looking up at him defiantly. It was obvious that he knew about the Map, but fuck him if I was going to say anything.
He snorted at the look I gave him. "Yes, yes, you don't know anything about that, do you, Potter? Sign the damned book. And don't write somebody else's name, it won't let you."
My hand faltered; I had been just about to do that. Heck, I'd figured that Snape wouldn't even notice if I signed the book Larry instead of Harry, and maybe that would have circumvented the tracking spell on it. But he had anticipated everything, as usual.
I felt nothing when I signed the blank page with my name, but the words sparkled and then seemed to sink into the paper, graying slightly. A moment later my initials swam to the surface of the page, colored the same red-gold as the Sphaerae back in the courtyard. Next to the initials a little drawing of a desk appeared, as if it had been sketched by an invisible hand.
"You next, Miss Granger."
She handed Ron's arm to me and signed the book with a flourish. A loud buzzer sounded, and Hermione dropped the quill, ink spattering across the page.
"Hecate's teats, girl, calm down. The Book just knows that you were not initially bound for this calling, and is bringing that to my attention. Of which I am aware, thank you very much." This last was directed at the book itself, which seemed to harrumph, and ruffle it's pages irritably.
"Well, Mr. Weasley can hardly sign in his condition, so I suppose we'll come back later for him, shall we? Now, you three reek like half-dead merpeople, and I can't stand it anymore. This way to the Baths."
He turned on his heel, stalking off down a long corridor. Hermione and I glanced at each other, at the closed door, and then followed him helplessly. We steered Ron between us.
We managed to keep Snape in sight as we followed him down the twisting corridors, but it was difficult to do. I knew on some level that this was still Hogwarts (at least, I was reasonably sure that we hadn't left), but I was hopelessly lost in moments. Snape never looked over his shoulder to see if we were following him; apparently we seemed cowed enough that he didn't need to watch us anymore. I felt a bit of annoyance but, really, we hadn't given him much trouble since we'd found out where we were; I suppose we just couldn't fight right now. Besides, compared to that Hystrix fellow, Snape only seemed marginally evil. Maybe.
Snape was waiting for us after the last bend in the corridor. A large door stood open in front of him, the sound of splashing water and the sharp smell of soap rolling from the marble room. We glanced at him, and he motioned us in brusquely.
As soon as we entered the room, the door slammed shut. I must admit that I jumped as much as Hermione that time. Snape snickered. "So jumpy. Well. Time to get you cleaned up, hm?"
I glanced around, expecting to see a big bathtub or at least shower stalls. Instead, there were large pools of water, some raised and spilling into lower pools, some sunken into the marble floor. Steam rose from the higher pools, rolling along the floor and spilling down the short flights of stairs. The smell of hot water and soap wrapped my head, steaming up my glasses. I took them off to clean them; they were more precious to me than any jewel, here. Thanks to an Impervious Charm they were intact after everything I had been through, but I was always afraid of losing them.
While my glasses were off, the room was a blur of light and dark blobs. Suddenly, a mass of shadows to my right broke into pieces and moved toward us. Hermione gave a short yelp of fear, and I fumbled to get my glasses on. Six creatures were approaching us, and I understood why Hermione was afraid. They weren't human, but that didn't narrow it down a whole heck of a lot.
All six were short, only standing about four feet, and had long, distorted faces. They looked like a cross between ravens and goblins. Long, black faces with sharp, abbreviated beaks, their eyes shiny black, oversized and wet looking. Where ravens would have had solid black eyes, the creatures had light eyes with dark irises and pale eyelashes. What I though were black robes at first resolved themselves into some kind of black feathers, although I didn't know if they grew that way or were just clothing of some sort. Their hands and feet were bare, but a dusky dark gray. They were terrifying, and they reminded me strikingly of birds.
All six ignored us completely, brushing past in their quick shuffle-hop walk, and surrounded Snape, butting against him and making chirring, clacking noises they reached for his face with abnormally long hands topped with small pointed nails. He rubbed at their heads affectionately, clacking and chirping to them, as if they were his pets. Or his children.
"Jesus Christ, Snape, what the hell are those?" I exclaimed.
The six creatures and Snape turned to look at me. Seven pairs of eyes held the same expression, but I had no idea what it was. Snape patted them a last time, then motioned to us, talking in that clacking bird language. The creatures nodded, bobbing their heads and necks without using their shoulders. And then they turned and advanced on us.
Like a pack of wolves they stalked toward us, angular heads down, eyes locked with ours. I stopped breathing, my stomach clenching hard. The sway of their bodies as they walked was hypnotic; only their bodies moved as they walked, their heads staying perfectly still, like snakes.
Hermione broke and ran. I couldn't move, but I saw two of the things veer off after her, cackling at each other. They could jump incredibly high, bounding across the marble, pushing off the wall in mid air. One landed in front of Hermione, dropping down suddenly, mouth open in a hiss. She screamed piercingly and changed direction, rounding the largest of the raised pools and disappearing from sight.
The two nearest me reached out their long fingered hands, trying to snag my clothing. My stomach trembled, muscles knotted. I tried to gasp a breath but I couldn't get any air with my stomach locked up as it was. I felt a hot, dry touch against my arm as the closest one reached for my robe. Their hands were scaly.
"NO!" I screamed, throwing my hands out to knock them away. I felt a great rush of energy leave me, like when I cast a large charm, and the two creatures squawked as they bowled over backwards and tumbled into the wall. I swayed with vertigo. Snape was suddenly there, grabbing both my hands in one of his and slapping me across the face.
"Stupid boy! You could have hurt them. They didn't even do anything to you, you foul little monster." He shook me, turning me so I could see the remaining two creatures with Ron. They were gently pulling off his outer robe and socks, clicking and rubbing the scratches on his knees where he hit the ground when he had been hexed. Ron still wasn't moving of his own accord.
I sucked in a great breath of air, sagging against Snape as the terror let go of me. The half formed images of the things pouncing on me and plucking out my eyes or disemboweling me seemed far-fetched now as I watched the two strip Ron. From the other room there was a terrible ruckus, then a sound like a dry branch breaking and squawking squeal.
Snape snarled and thrust me toward Ron, snapping "Stay there, you little wretch." He stalked into the other room.
Moments later he returned, dragging Hermione by her wrists in one hand and his other hand fisted in her hair. "You little bitch! They were trying to help you and you attack them. Stupid, wretched child. If he dies, so help me, you'll regret it!" Snape pushed her at me, letting me catch the sobbing girl and returned to the room, returning with one of the creatures cradled in his arms. The two I'd thrown into the wall struggled upright, making soft distressed noises, and scurried over to Snape. The one in Snape's arms rolled its head and clacked pitifully, and I could see that its right arm was bent at an odd angle.
"I didn't mean to hurt it, Harry, I swear I didn't," Hermione sobbed. "It was trying to take my robe. I was only pushing it away and-"
"Shh, it's ok, 'Mione. I'm sure it's ok—"
Snape glared at us and laid the hurt thing on the edge of the pool. He clacked at one of the things who ran off, hissing at Hermione as it went by. Snape was rubbing the things head, cooing at it, for lack of a better word.
The two creatures that had been undressing Ron finally finished, and joined the others with Snape at the edge of the pool. It looked for all the world like Quidditch practice, with a group of students huddled around somebody who had fallen off a broom. I almost expected Madam Pomfrey to walk through the door and shoo everyone away.
But the creature that walked through the doorway was most definitely not Madam Pomfrey. It was a taller version of the creatures, more manlike then they, clad in what was unquestionably a robe, with a bag over one shoulder. The messenger creature followed after, wringing its pale hands.
Snape stood and greeted the newcomer, speaking in that odd bird language, gesturing at the hurt thing and at us. The taller thing glanced at us, and then shook its feathery head. He gathered up the broken creature and left, not looking at us again.
Hermione sniffled and raised her head, composing herself. She addressed Snape. "I'm sorry I hurt him. I didn't intend to. I didn't realize that they had the same bone structure as birds. I swear that I barely grabbed his arm."
Snape narrowed his eyes at her, then rose, holding one of the things in his arms like a toddler. It looked huge, clinging to him, but Snape didn't look like he had any difficulty holding it. The rest of the creatures trailed after him, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He reached us, and glared down his nose.
"These are Coraxis. They help us around the House. Rather like house elves, but, as they are much more intelligent, they are treated with respect." He glared at Hermione. "As you wished the house elves to be at Hogwarts, I believe, girl. Is this how you would have treated them once you "freed' them, Miss Granger? Maybe they were better off as they were, away from your tender mercies." The thing in his arms cowered, tucking its head farther under Snape's hair. He stroked its head, shushing it. "Now," he said, his voice soft and kind to calm the Coraxis, "this little one is Dåvo. His nest mates are Janü, Tåri, Citer, Pa't, and Sist. Citer is the one now languishing in the infirmary thanks to Miss Granger, mending and hoping that bone fragments don't reach his brain. If he dies, the rest will likely follow suit. And all because they wanted you to be able to bathe without your filthy clothes. Pathetic, the lot of you."
Snape's voice broke cold over us, making me shiver. I looked over to the two Coraxis that I had thrown into the wall, and asked, hesitatingly, "Will the others be ok? I mean, I sort of-"
"I am aware of your little display of prowess, Mr. Potter. Tåri and Janü inform me that they are fine, aside from a few bruises." He set Dåvo down, waiting until the gray feet found purchase on the marble, and straightened up menacingly. "If you hurt them again you will sorely regret it. Now, I should just throw you three stinking children into a pen, but I promised you a bath, and I never break my promises." His black eyes bored into me, daring me to challenge him.
I wanted to refute that, to laugh or curse him, to spit at his feet and call him a warlock a poisoner of wells. An oathbreaker. But his eyes sobered me, and I bit my tongue.
Two Coraxis pulled on my robe, trying to get me to bend so that they could take it off. I had thought I was to be spared the humiliation of undressing in front of Snape when I was spared the auction block, but Snape didn't look like he was going anywhere. I glanced at him, thinking that, a few weeks ago, I would have died rather than look at this man, other than perhaps at the end of my wand; now I was going to undress in front of him.
Hermione was still crying, kneeling so that the Coraxis could get her jumper over her head. The three around her were trilling, petting her hair and rubbing at the smears of dirt that streaked her body. Apparently, they had forgiven her. I wondered if Citer would be so magnanimous.
"For Merlin's sake, Potter, just give Tåri your robe! I don't have all day to wait while you decide whether or not to expose your physique to the rest of us. You've nothing we've not seen before, unless Lily was more adventurous than I believed and you sport some freakish deformity. No? Then strip."
I glared at him and viciously jerked my clothes off, dropping them on the ground. At one point my robe ended up over Tåri's head, and the other one, Janü, I suppose, made a sound suspiciously like laughter as he pulled it off.
Soon enough I was naked, joining Ron and Hermione in bare silence. Snape was looking us over with a critical eye. I covered myself with my hands, uncomfortable under his black regard, but I still felt horribly exposed.
"Oh, just go bathe. I can't even see what you look like under all that filth" although I'm guessing that a good portion of it won't wash off. You three were Gryffindors, after all."
I glared at him. Hell, I don't think I had stopped glaring at him from before. I wondered what the maximum that you can glare was.
"Stop that, Potter, you look like you're going to seize. Just bathe already. The higher pools are hotter. The Coraxis will bring you soap.
Hermione fled up the stairs and slipped into one of the steaming pools, a blush staining her pale skin. I caught myself admiring the look of her calves and" other parts as she ran. Over the past few months, we had lost some modesty due to the close conditions, but I had never seen her nude. My cock twitched.
"Nice isn't she?" Snape said quietly in my ear. I started; how did he keep sneaking up on me? I refused to turn around and resolutely looked away from Hermione who, despite her embarrassment, looked rapturous to be in the hot water. I also resolutely put out of my mind that Snape was standing behind me, his leather robe brushing down my naked back and bum. "Oh, such the gentleman, now, after you've been caught peeking. Go on then, little gentleman, get in the water. Besides, the only one left to look at you... is me."
A ghost of a touch, trailed down my back, so light it could have been the loose edge of his robe. But no leather was that hot, and the sharp edge of a fingernail catching at the light hairs dusting my arse was unmistakable. I jerked away from him, horror flooding my gut as I realized just what sort of nightmare we had been delivered into.
I moved to slap his hand away, but my wrist was caught tight in his hard fingers and twisted up behind my back. I bit back a cry.
"Ah, ah, Mr. Potter. No acting up. Now get in the pool." He thrust me toward the stairs. I was halfway into the gloriously hot water before I realized that I had followed his order.
Hermione had her head back against the marble, languishing in the steaming water. Her eyes were shut, her hands making little ripples in the water. I stifled a moan as I slid down, maybe from the heat soaking into my sore flesh, maybe from the sight of her breasts bobbing gently in the water. As I settled in, I realized that the pool had sloped stone benches submerged within, and I slid into one of them gratefully, letting my own head fall backward as she had done. I set my glasses down on the edge of the pool, raising a handful of water to sluice over my face. This— this was wonderful. After all we had been through, me and Hermione and Ron.
RON! I sat upright, sending a small wave of water breaking over Hermione's face. She sputtered indignity. I crawled to the edge of the pool and propped myself up so that I could see the room below. Snape was standing with his back to us, close to Ron, his dark bulk blocking my view of my friend. He was speaking into Ron's ear, softly, and didn't look to be threatening him in any way; but, remembering that light touch ghosting down my back, I was more than a little concerned. Ron was in no condition to defend himself...
As if he had heard my thoughts, Snape turned his head toward me and smiled darkly. I heard him end the puppetous charm, and saw Ron sag into his waiting arms. Snape's dark head bent to Ron's once more, the coal of his hair extinguishing Ron's flame, and for one hideous moment I thought that Snape was kissing him, his head moving over Ron's in a parody of a lover's kiss. A sharp noise escaped me, shock or dismay making me cry out when fear did not, and Snape jerked his head back at the noise. He turned to face me, Ron still limp in his arms.
"Settle down, boy. I was trying to talk him out of this... ennui. But, if that makes you uncomfortable, than I suppose there's only one thing to do." And he hauled Ron over to the lowest (and presumably the coldest) pool and unceremoniously pushed him in.
"Ron!" Hermione yelled, scrambling up next to me in time to see his limp body hit the water with a splash.
Ron sank in the water, his pale limbs spread like a star as he sank deeper, his head lolling.
"God, Ron!" I yelled, pulling myself up onto the ledge and standing shakily. If I jumped out and to the left, I could just make it into the pool. Before I could even think about what would happen if I missed, if I hit the hard marble edge, I leapt, stretching out towards Ron as I fell, using the same muscles I used when I was on my broom to twist and direct my fall. But I had no magic to buoy me, and I was falling very fast. I barely managed to get myself vertical before I hit the water. It still was a terrible shock, jumping from the hot water of the upper pool and plunging into this one. I could tell right away that the water was much colder than I had thought, damn near freezing. For a few seconds I couldn't move, couldn't breathe as the water closed around me. Shock stilled my limbs into immobility, and I fought hard to move again. It would do neither of us any good for me to drown while trying to rescue Ron.
A shape cut the water to my left, filling my eyes with bubbles. When they cleared, I could see Hermione, moving effortlessly through the water, her limbs flashing in the gray twilight of underwater. She glanced my way, and her hair spread out around her head like seaweed. She motioned down, and I could just see Ron, deeper in the water. A column of bubbles rose from his mouth and streamed upward towards the light. I kicked feebly toward the surface; I had forgotten in my panic to save Ron that I wasn't the best swimmer. My head broke the surface briefly, and I gulped air. Somehow the warmer air my feel colder, and I began to shiver. But I didn't have time to be cold. I turned in the water, kicking down toward the shadowy forms of my best friends. I had to get to them.
I was filled with memories of the lake, of swimming down to find Ron, to save him, and seeing them both tied and lolling in the murky water. I yelled to them, kicking hard, hands cutting at the water viciously. But I had no gills, no fins. I wasn't moving fast enough. The air in my lungs almost lifted me faster than I could swim down. I blew out hard, watching the bubbles stream past my head as I was suddenly sinking, cutting cleanly through the water to my friends.
But they were rising toward me, Hermione pushing Ron, who was kicking feebly. I sagged in relief. He was alive, conscious even. But we still had to get out of this pool.
As they reached me I grabbed Ron's arm, and struck out for the surface. My lungs ached, burned. I had no air to expel, and my mind desperately battled my body's urge to inhale. The cold was sinking in; as the initial adrenalin surge was used up, my body was slowly shutting down from the cold. My hands and feet flexed involuntarily, bones aching from the chill.
Ron wasn't doing much better. I couldn't tell for sure, but his lips looked blue from cold, and his arm felt stiff in my hand. Only a few moments more, a few feet...
We burst out of the water, our gasps echoing loudly in the air. Ron coughed hard, and gasped again, reaching weakly for the edge of the pool. Struggling, we managed to get to it and leaned tiredly on the marble. Hot dark hands closed on my arm, and I started feebly. Janü pulled at my arm, urging us towards the steps, and we crawled from the pool to collapse against the marble. We were all shivering.
When I finally had the strength to raise my head, Snape was gone.
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