leianora (leianora) wrote in harry_salazar, @ 2008-01-01 19:14:00 |
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Current mood: | accomplished |
FIC POST!
title: Serpent Master
Author: leianora
Genre: Slash, Action/adventure
Rating: G for this part, NC17 overall.
Disclaimer: The idea is mine, but the characters aren't.
Pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Salazar Slytherin/Harry Potter
Summary: A group of Slytherins decide to regain the former reputation of Slytherin House. They'll literally do whatever it takes to reclaim Slytherin's good name and reputation.
They began arriving silently; not even the grass stirred underneath the feet of the lighter girls. As they came, Draco Malfoy counted. When finally all of the sixth and seventh year Slytherin students he trusted had arrived, he took a deep breath and spoke.
“You all know why we’re here,” he began. “My father is dead; so are several of your parents; but not by the hands of our enemy were they killed. Instead, they were brutally murdered by the one who was to have been our benefactor, our guide into a brighter new day. We shall here and now pledge to fight against him, and to solidify our oath, we shall never again fear to speak his name. It shall be spoken with contempt and scorn! We will no longer stand with him! From this day forth, our minds, our hearts, and our loyalty are our own! Let him tremble with fear when he realizes what a mistake he has made by foolishly squandering our loyalty and brutally turning us against him!”
He stepped to the edge of the circle he’d drawn in the earth and raised his wand to his wrist. After murmuring the incantation which would bind him to the oath, he spoke clearly again and pricked his wrist, letting his blood flow into the circle.
“I, Draco Malfoy, shall fight with everything I have and am against the evil, malicious, and insane wizard known as V-Voldemort until either he, or I have died.”
The others came forward one by one, until all of them had sworn the oath. Most of them stuttered over the dark lord’s name, so Draco didn’t feel as bad since he had as well. Then Draco turned to consult the book he’d left leaning against a nearby tree, only to come face to face with his Head of House, Severus Snape. He froze, but his fear was ignored. The others noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, and they, too, froze.
The man stood there, holding the book Draco had been about to grab. The sudden stillness was profound and deeply disturbing in a very fundamental way. No one moved so much as a muscle. Finally, Snape spoke. Although his voice was soft, the shattering of the silence was loud and frightening; it left the students shaken.
“That was quite a rousing speech,” he said tonelessly. “I’m impressed. I thought you’d never come to your senses. You cannot do this alone, and I don’t have time to convince you that I am trustworthy. Let me help you. I’ll take the oath as well.”
No one spoke for the longest time, but when the silence was finally broken it was Draco, as leader of the group, who broke it. He let out a great shuddering sigh of complete and total relief. He gladly handed the reins of leadership over to this man with a nod. Although his father hadn’t been very friendly to their head of house, Draco admitted to himself that it was this man, whose unadulterated praise and real respect he’d secretly longed for ever since his first year, and only this man who could help him and his friends.
Severus took the oath, and then picked up the book again. He raised an eyebrow.
“I won’t ask where you came by this particular book,” he said ironically.
Without further comment, he stared down at the page, and then began to recite the incantation which would, if it worked, bring the only person who could clear the reputation of Slytherin house, the man himself, Salazar Slytherin, forward in time. As Severus continued the long spell, his voice grew in volume and intensity. His pronunciation never once faltered, and the rhythm was never broken. Draco felt chills chasing each other down his spine. As he continued to watch, it slowly dawned on him that he would never have been able to get the spell to work. He didn’t have the emotional passion, the intensity, and the desperate drive to see it succeed which Severus Snape seemed to have in abundance. He wondered how long his professor had wanted to fight against the Dark Lord. Had he been fighting on Dumbledore’s side, Draco wondered?
The crackle of magical energy increased, and the students instinctively drew closer together, seeking solace from the frightening feel of the raw power coursing through the air. Pansy Parkinson shuddered so violently that her fiance, Greg Goyle, placed a protective arm around her shoulders. Neither one of them dared to speak, though. They knew that if Professor Snape’s attention was distracted, even for a moment, the deadly strands of magic could drag him in and turn him into a squib, or kill him.
As she continued to watch, unable to look away despite her fear, she was reminded of the one time she’d seen a grass fire making its way steadily across the moor. No one had done anything about it, and she, in a fit of temper, had gone to her father demanding to know why. He’d explained that the wind was blowing, and grass fires, once started, could never be controlled by mere human means. They’d been forced to watch as hundreds of acres had burned in two days. It’d been an awesome, but very scary sight.
*** *** *** ***
Harry Potter thrashed about violently in his bed. Ron, who had been drifting off to sleep after an hour of thinking random thoughts, sat up suddenly, hearing the familiar sounds of his friend in trouble. He bit his lower lip and frowned. Harry was always the one in pain, always the one who suffered in silence, because no one would, or could, help him. It sometimes made Ron feel terrible. This feeling, empathy Hermione had called it, was something that still made him feel very uncomfortable, but it was Harry, so he went with it whenever he had it. After all, who needed more help than Harry?
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had all been very shocked when Harry had finally revealed the contents of the prophecy the death eaters had been trying to nick during their fifth year, Ginny’s fourth. It’d explained a lot, such as the reasons for Harry’s sudden depression during what should have been a happy time for him. Hermione, of course, had assumed that he was still very upset over the death of Sirius Black, and while that was indeed very true, it was only half of the problem. Ron knew that Harry didn’t want to kill anyone, but he also knew that his best friend had to do this. There was no way around it, and few of the students knew how horrible things would get if he didn’t kill Voldemort as well as the pure blooded witches and wizards who refused to side with him.
Now, he silently got up and shivered as his feet touched the floor. He pulled back the curtains on Harry’s bed and sank down on the edge nervously. He reached out tentatively and placed a clammy hand on Harry’s shoulder, desperately hoping he’d wake up, or the nightmare would stop, letting both of them get some genuine, peaceful sleep.
“Harry? Come on, mate. It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re safe, we all are.”
Ron said the same things he’d always said to his sister whenever she had a nightmare. It was all he could think to do whenever Harry had one of his bad nights. He repeated the mantra over and over again, rubbing his friend’s arm, smoothing his sweat dampened hair back from the horrible scar, and struggling to remain calm as Harry continued to thrash. He wasn’t sure how long it went on, but it felt like ages. Finally, though, the thrashing stopped, and Harry’s breathing slowly returned to normal. Ron sighed with relief.
*** *** ***
Severus Snape could feel the power coursing through his body. It was more raw power than he’d ever handled in his life. It made him feel giddy and slightly light-headed, but he ignored the feeling, knowing where that road would lead him if he decided to give into the siren song of it. He’d been down that path before, and he knew far better than most that there was no reward waiting for him at the end of that dark and dreary way.
As he reached the climax of the spell, he found himself barely able to breathe. The raw energy of the elemental magic would not allow for any mistakes on his part, and if he were to stop now, or if some frailty of his human body were to impede the magic, he would surely die. His charges would die as well, he realized, because the magic wasn’t just coming from him; it was being drained out of everything and everyone in the clearing. Finally, the incantation was finished. A ringing silence filled the night, but it did not last for long. Wind began to blow the trees, causing the branches to sway so violently that Severus feared some of them would break off. Leaves flew everywhere, and several of the students began to make small noises of fear and distress.
He could not spare them a glance now, though. He had to remain focused on the next part of what was turning out to be the most complex bit of magic he’d ever performed.
*** *** *** ***
Harry stunned Ron by leaping out of bed and scrambling to dress. He gasped in shock as he saw the look of terrible determination on his friend’s face. He didn’t ask any questions, knowing instinctively that now was not the time. Rather than wasting any time waking their dorm mates, he hurried to dress as well, never taking his eyes off of Harry’s face. He knew that if he had to stop to explain anything to his dorm mates, he would probably lose his friend. Harry wasn’t focusing on anything outside of himself.
They crept quietly together out of the room and down to the common room. Hermione was still awake, much to Ron’s relief. She saw them, and looked at Ron for an explanation. She’d seen the vacant look in Harry’s eyes, and knew she wouldn’t get any answers from him. Instead of saying anything to her, Ron motioned for her to follow. To his relief, she closed her book, got up, and did so without protest or questions.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked once they’d made their way into the corridor just outside Gryffindor Tower. “Is he sleepwalking? He’s never done that before.”
Ron shrugged helplessly, and Hermione sighed with exasperation. Neither one of them spoke again. It was as they were making their way to the front entrance of the castle that Hermione made her first objection. If they did sneak out, they would surely be caught.
“Ron, we can’t go out there!” she whispered fiercely. “If we open those doors, assuming we can, all of the teachers will know about it! You’re a prefect, you know that!”
“What d’you expect we should do, then? Should we just leave him to do this, whatever it is, on his own? How’d that make us look, eh? Come on, Hermione, he needs us!”
She made a small whimpering noise in the back of her throat, and then sighed shakily. Harry had already stepped forward and raised his wand. Without uttering a single incantation, he had the doors open and was heading outside. Hermione and Ron followed him, shivering as the cold of the midnight air hit their faces. Harry, it seemed, wasn’t bothered by it at all. He didn’t even wrap his cloak tighter around him.
They reached the clearing where the Slytherins were, and Hermione caught her breath. Fire was licking the uppermost branches of the trees, and the wind was threatening to breathe life into what was starting to become a very dangerous blaze. Harry stepped up beside Professor Snape, and Ron moaned softly. They were done for, he just knew it.
Professor Snape, however, didn’t turn or give any signs that he’d noticed them at all. No one did. Harry spoke, his voice soft but intense. The hissing whispery language that was Parseltongue poured forth from his lips in a long stream of words. He didn’t seem to be breathing between sentences, but whatever he was saying definitely had an effect. Snakes came forward crawling on their bellies, and twined themselves round the trunks of the nearby trees and Harry’s ankles. Hermione smothered a scream.
The hissing continued, and the Slytherins, too shocked by Harry’s appearance to be frightened, began watching him avidly. Draco turned his head in the direction of the castle and saw Ron and Hermione standing at the edge of the clearing, too stunned to react to their friend’s recklessness. He didn’t say anything, much to their relief.
Suddenly, all noise in the clearing stopped. The snakes went still, Harry’s body relaxed, and he stopped speaking in that language that always gave Hermione the creeps. The wind stopped blowing and the fire had been put out, but neither she nor Ron could figure out how or when that’d happened. Another voice spoke then, shattering the silence just as Hermione had started to get used to it and catch her breath. This voice was unfamiliar, deep and commanding, not a voice to be ignored or argued with; it made her shiver convulsively. Her instincts told her to stay still, so she did.
“Who art thou, and why hast thou brought me to this place?” it demanded to know.