Scrambled Snape | By : Ms_Figg Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2465 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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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.
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