Who: Headmaster Snape, Hannah Abbot, Neville Longbottom What: Suspicious activity in the Owlery When: Saturday, January 8, early evening Where: The Owlery Rating: TBD, probably low
Severus moved slowly through the cavernous corridors of Hogwarts. His cloak swirled behind him as he strode along the school's arched stone hallways. It was nearing – though not past – curfew, yet he found himself practically alone as he traversed the perimeter of the castle's ground floor. He idly supposed the lack of activity in the halls was yet another byproduct of the Carrows' disciplinary efforts. Students were fast becoming too cowed to leave their common rooms even when they could.
As he mused over the matter, his mouth twisted in an involuntary scowl. The Carrows. As if his job weren't difficult enough already - perched, as he was, in his solitary position between the Dark Lord and everyone else. Keeping the school running with any slight semblance of normalcy, while being called to Voldemort's side at the Dark Lord's slightest whim, had been difficult enough. But the pair of sadistic nitwits that he'd been saddled with were making things practically impossible. They'd taken to their disciplinary duties with a manic, devilish glee that gave even him pause. It was not that he was opposed to the proper punishment for students, but there was something in the Carrows' methods that rankled even him. If he were inclined to bouts of self-analysis, he'd likely say that he was repulsed because there was something about them that reminded him of his father, only far more gruesome. But Severus had not the time nor the inclination to probe into his own psyche in any great detail. That path would surely only lead to regret, which he had no time for. He had made his own bed, and he was doing his damndest to lie in it.
But he was caught in a paradox. He couldn't object too strenuously to the Carrows' tactics without alerting Voldemort’s suspicion. Yet he couldn't allow them to push the students to a point where their spirit was completely broken. Dumbledore's portrait was fond of reminding him that there was far more at stake than Harry's mission. The school would need to be ready when the time came, and it wouldn't be possible for it to defend itself if the student body had lost the will to fight back. And after the recent ruckus with Potter at Malfoy Manor – news which had traveled all too quickly through the Death Eater ranks – he knew that the last phase of Dumbledore’s plans was about to begin. It would not be more than a few months now, he guessed, before all hell truly broke loose.
With these thoughts turning themselves over and over in his mind he turned a corner and began to climb the steps to the Owlery. He'd taken to walking through the ground floor and some of the other public areas of the castle just before curfew most evenings. It allowed him to keep an eye on the Carrows as well as the students. As he approached the arched door leading into the Owlery proper he was slightly surprised to hear an ungodly racket coming from inside. It sounded as though several of the birds were quite agitated.
Rounding the corner and entering the Owlery, he saw that the cause of the disturbance was none other than a blond Hufflepuff girl who Snape always remembered as having a rather wilting disposition. “Miss Abbott,” he said with measured disdain, “what, pray tell, do you think you are doing? And so close to curfew as well?”