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Shadows of an evil past	By : Werecat Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 945 -:- 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
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Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing some of the characters for my own pleasure and I am not making money of them.
Author's notes: Another Snape story from my evil mind. Dark and angsty as well, with a possible romance in the future. Romance as it would fit a dark tale, that is. And a bit of Mystery to spice it up.
The key word for this story is control. If you keep that in mind, everything will fall in place.
Author's warning: Yes, sexual content down the story. Also deals with substance abuse. Dark as the rest of it. If it offends you, go read a Mary Sue story. This is not for the faint of heart.

SHADOWS OF AN EVIL PAST
Author's notes: The cards are not chosen by chance. They have a reason for being there.

CHAPTER 1: The Reading of the Cards.
Sybill Trelawney shuffled the cards in her hands. She felt the energy of the Great Arcana passing through her fingers, crawling up her arms and down her spine. The stars were favorable this night. She cut the deck and drew the first card.
~*~
Card the First: The hanged man.
A woman's dead body was found in the White Chapel area. She had been dead for a couple of days and the body was in early stages of decomposition. The coronary's report spoke of several burns, cuts and sexually related injuries, some of them inflicted after death. The autopsy revealed systematic abuse for a prolonged period of time, possibly years. Cause of death: cardiac arrest, as if the woman had died of fear. The only distinguishing mark on her body was a faded tattoo over her left breast.
A young Muggle police officer, whose sister was at her seventh year at Hogwarts recognized the tattoo for what it was: the Dark Mark. In no time he notified the Ministry of Magic, sending along a copy of the file.
~*~
Card the Second: The Hermit.
In the dungeons of Hogwarts, Severus Snape was doing his best to finish his paperwork. But every time he reached out for a new parchment to grade, his patience was put to the test. It felt as if each and every one of his students, from first-years to seniors, were deliberately trying to anger him. Stupid mistakes, unjustified errors, bad spelling and inadequate research. At times like these he strongly suspected that they were doing this on purpose, a prank orchestrated by the Weasley twins just to piss him off.
Scribing another 'F' at the parchment before him, he shoved it away with the rest and leaned back in his chair. Quite a life I have here, he thought bitterly. Idiotic students, boring colleagues, a retired Auror haunting my steps and an equally annoying ex-Death Eater harassing me at every given opportunity. On top of these the mark on his left forearm had been making its presence known for quite sometime now. He longed for the weekend break, his only chance to sneak away to London for some private time.
If Dumbledore knew he had returned to his old habits, he would be really disappointed. Snape was determined to keep his secret. This time he had his urge under control.
Or so he thought.
~*~
Card the Third: The Chariot.
In her London apartment, the young woman watched the photographs downloading on her computer screen. Yes, this was definitely a Dark Mark. She studied the screen for a moment, waiting for the complete file to download. Behind her, a voice rose in protest. She glanced sideways on the man on her bed. Young, muscular, naked and not very bright. And tied on the bed. Exactly the way she liked her boyfriends.
"Shut up, Justin," she hissed. "I haven't given you permission to speak". He growled. They both loved that game, for different reasons each.
At the other corner of the room, the closet door was open. As she turned her head back to her laptop screen, her reflection on the mirror on the inside of the door caught her eye. It was this of a tall, athletic young woman, with straight dark blond hair tied loosely in a ponytail behind her head. Her blue eyes flashed as she noticed her robe being visible through the closet door. A dark robe with her House insignia embroidered on it. 'Ravenclaw' would mean nothing to the unfamiliar eye but she shouldn't have been so careless.
She turned her attention back to the disturbing images on her screen. The Ministry had a right to be concerned. This was the second incident in a few weeks and it had found its way to the Muggle world. She checked the estimated downloading time: another hour to go. Plenty of time.
She turned to the man behind her and smiled.
"Ready for a second round, my love?"
~*~
Card the Fourth: The Magician.
In another part of England, a young man was staring at his captor in horror. The masked man poked through the hot charcoal in agonizing slow motion. The young man, bearing the marks of countless burns on his skin, felt his knees turn to jelly. Cold sweat ran down his spine, knowing the torture had already begun.
"Please, Master," he cried in a trembling voice, "please, not again. I'll do anything..."
The masked man looked at his prisoner with delight.
"Anything?" he inquired.
"Yes, master, anything," the young man yelled, a hope dawning in his eyes.
The dark figure approached the chained man, and rubbed the dark mark above his left nipple. And then he pushed him on his knees, unbuckling his pants.
"I'm feeling generous tonight, my pet," he said in a silky voice. "Show me your gratitude," he commanded.
The young man obeyed, relieved that he was spared the torture.
At least for the night.
~*~
Card the Fifth: The Devil.
In the restricted area of St. Mungo's Hospital, a young woman was rocking forth and back, mumbling incoherent words. She had been found wondering the streets near Diagon Alley a few weeks ago, having forsaken all signs of sane thought. At first the spells and potions seemed to help her a little, but soon they lost all effect. She had uncontrollable fits of violence, throwing herself on the walls, screaming like a crazed animal. When they had ran out of ideas, they had resulted in a cell similar to those of the Muggle institutions, covered inside with soft material to keep her safe from her own self.
Now, she spent most of the time looking at the empty space before her, mumbling nonsense, sometimes whispering, sometimes screaming. She was lost in a dark world in her mind, where a tall dark figure wearing a white mask had robbed her of her innocence, of her pride, of her soul.
Few people in the Hospital and the Ministry had been notified of the distinguishing shape above her left breast. But it was there.
And night after night, she could feel it burn.
~*~
Sybill Trelawney studied the five cards that formed a pentagram on the table before her. None of them was very fortunate on its own. Their combination was rather alarming. She drew a sixth card to place it at the center of the pentagram, the end and the beginning of the tale the cards were telling.
Card the Sixth: Death.
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Shadows of an evil past