Severus Septimus Snape (![]() ![]() @ 2013-07-26 05:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | christopher stebbins (stebbin_out), lucius malfoy (pale_elegance), severus snape (darkarts_prince) |
WHO: Severus Snape (darkarts_prince) and open
WHAT: Arrival
WHERE: Not far from the inn
WHEN: Day 17 late morning
WARNINGS: probably none
STATUS: ongoing, open
The pain from Nagini's bite faded, a welcome fading even though he knew he was dieing. His ego couldn't help wishing that he lived; he was so close to seeing Voldemort vanquished that the desire to be out of this situation came over him during his last seconds right after Potter had taken the memories. At the end, Snape felt it crucial for Potter to know the truth, the whole truth -- something not even Dumbledore had done.
The gathering darkness of his descent into death was awfully bright, it occurred to him. His eyelids were apparently bombarded by light from the sun. It had to be hallucination. Snape put an arm up over his face and just then he thought he felt fetid breath tickling his face. Lacking his wand mattered not. Avada Kedavra! he cast the wordless magic, certain he'd kill Nagini. But he didn't feel the power of the spell leave him. He didn't feel as if anything happened at all, save for the sound of rhythmic squishy scrunching--
He opened his eyes and looked out from beneath his black-sleeved shielding arm to see a cow chewing its cud almost directly over his face.
"Avada Kedavra!" he yelled, wanting the cow to fall over dead as he backed away.
Nothing happened yet again. No sense of the magic building up in an instant and releasing the deadly fury of the bright green flash. So he had died and magic didn't work here? Snape got up, surprised he still had the same body and wore the same clothes. He raised a hand to the bite and found it wasn't there. So he was healed by coming -- where?
Just what I wanted, pastoral hell, he thought as he took in the scene of gentle hilly pastureland. The grass was green and there were patches of some yellow flower spreading all around him.
Snape glowered at the cow for living, for being someplace his magic didn't work.
Why wasn't he in a cozy study listening to Beethoven, which was about as Pastoral as Snape ever wanted to be. Perhaps muggle hell existed after all because he would never choose such a verdant setting for his personal heaven. With a building of jumbled-together construction styles (all of medieval fashion) over there, he knew he wasn't in any version of Elysian fields.
The stupid bloody cow somehow decided it was a good idea to move closer to Snape. He backed away and promptly fell over something, landing hard. That was the only reason he found to be grateful for the grass; the fall didn't hurt him. He found a travelling trunk was what had tripped him. Snape kicked at the cow. She looked at him, constantly making those horrid squishy sounds with her mouth and mooed. But at least she moved away from him. He got up to put his hand on the lid of the trunk, gingerly. There didn't seem to be any aura or vibration of Dark Magic. Opening it, he saw only one object -- his wand -- ignoring whatever else was in there. His old wand that he much preferred. Maybe this wasn't pastoral hell? Unless the wand was there to taunt him, unless magic truly didn't work.
Snape waved the wand at the nearest yellow flowers and they turned black just as he wanted them to. That was a start. He jumped to a conclusion that perhaps the Unfogivables didn't work but other magic still did. What else was in the trunk? A strange leather journal on top, some clothes of his, a portrait of his mother and other items. The journal had his name engraved on its cover.
Guidebook to Pastoral Hell? the man wondered. He opened it to read instructions and an abysmally lacking explanation.
"I really don't give a bloody toss how you mucked up your magic," he groused.
He flipped back and forth looking at what others who had also been apparently kidnapped were communicating. There were some people from his previous life. Had Ron and Bill Weasley, Stebbins and Tonks also died in the war? And who in the name of Merlin's magic balls were all those strangers? They didn't have names he recognised as belonging to the wizarding world. He shut the book. Snape tried apparating to Spinner's End. Nothing happened. Neither could he travel to Hogsmeade, London, Hogwarts, Durmstrang. For the moment he had to accept that maybe he was in a sodding place called Enchantia.
Once the ex-potions professor charmed the trunk to float and follow, he walked along and set about further proving he wasn't an ex-wizard. Here and there he made the flowers black and the grass pristine white, or he performed the opposite color scheme. To his right he transfigured the grass into a whomping willow. To the left he made the flowers turn into ravens, which cawed loudly before taking flight in a large conspiracy.
Snape decided he would detour around the inn and go to the town of Roaring Fords instead, when someone came out of the inn and happened to see him. The only reason he didn't obliviate (or use the forgetfullness charm) right away was because he might learn something else, doubtful as that seemed.