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Lost Souls by Shanti [Reviews - 2]

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Alternate Universe to Half-Blood Prince.




Chapter 5: Darkness Beckons




Second year began with Rowena once again alone on the train, though this time she was not so frightened, merely grateful to be away from Remus and her family after a long summer. Her parents had spent the holiday trying to persuade her to mend things with Remus, which she was not willing to do. It wore on her patience so that the random, impartial bustle of the train station was a welcome change.

She attempted to find her Slytherin friends, but had no immediate success, having arrived so early that there were few students on the train yet. Instead, she found a completely empty compartment near the end and took a seat—they could find her easily enough.

In short order, she engrossed herself in one of her new books. Her father had sent along extra books on the healing sciences that year. He was hoping she’d become a Healer instead of an Auror, and had spent much of the summer encouraging her mild interest in the art.

Her hair was longer—she had complained to her mother that it seemed her hair was the only thing about her that was growing, as she was still somewhat short for her age. The childish plaits were gone, as she let it hang loose down her back. Pulling the shiny, honey-brown mass together and over one shoulder, she settled into the seat and was soon oblivious to anything but her book. A familiar, sarcastic voice startled her back to awareness of her surroundings, and she looked up from her reading.

He was taller, a bit broader in the shoulder, though still very thin, and still dressed in his standard black. His face, though, had changed. It was still sharp and angular, with his very distinctive nose and expressive black brows arching gracefully over fathomless obsidian eyes—but the expression was even colder than before. The sneer and words had a harsh bite of cruelty she had only heard him use sparingly for effect last year, but now seemed a permanent part of his tone.

“Ah, the distant Lupin cousin. May I presume to share this compartment in peace and quiet, or shall I seek elsewhere?”

She was a bit unsettled by the bitterness in his address, but tried not to show her nervousness. A ridiculous flush of warm pleasure washed over her for a moment. He remembered her name! Her childishly fascinated heart pounded madly in her chest, and she feared she might actually blush under his piercing stare.

Turning her eyes back to her book rather than his inscrutable face, she made an attempt at mimicking the same bored tone and identical words he had said to her last year when their situations were reversed.

“Suit yourself and sit where you please.”

He sat across from her. If it was possible to portray angry aggressiveness in the simple act of sitting, then he did so. He withdrew a book of his own; one with no title on the front, but heavy and bound in strange, pale leather. Instead of turning to it immediately, he scrutinized the one she was reading.

“Healing Arts, Miss Lupin?” he sneered at her. “How very noble of you. Is that your career choice then? You are young to be making such a decision.”

The warm pleasure she had felt upon his arrival was soon replaced by an uncomfortable, squirmy sense of nervousness in the pit of her stomach.

It was impossible to deny her fascination with him to herself, but the truth was Rowena felt both thrilled and dismayed that he would choose to sit with her. She didn’t want to draw his cruel teasing to her—which she surely would do if he suspected that she was so intrigued by him—so she attempted to convey bored indifference in her tone.

“I thought we were sharing this compartment in ‘relative peace and quiet’, Mr Snape?” she asked, smiling softly at him in spite of her best intentions. “If it will hurry the return to that quiet, I will answer your questions.

“My dad’s a Healer, and wants me to be one. He thinks it’s a safer job than my own goal—I think I might like to be an Auror. I’m reading the books he gave me because I enjoy learning new things. I’m not at all ready to make any decisions. I’m just trying to learn as much as possible about any subjects I can to help me choose when the time comes.”

He smirked and leaned forward, his tone still mocking but quieter, almost conspiratorial, “Ever the rational Ravenclaw, hmm, Miss Lupin? Do you really wish to learn about whatever subjects you can? There is such a thing as dangerous knowledge, you know.”

She shivered involuntarily at the silky caress of his voice when he said ‘dangerous’, as though the word—the way he spoke it—was a lover’s kiss. Her eyes widened involuntarily as she looked at him, a deer in the headlights of his riveting gaze. The smirk became slightly mocking, as though he could read her thoughts and found them highly amusing. His brow arched and his silken voice continued, seductively.

“Yet if you are to be an Auror—a very brave choice, by the way—you should indeed delve deeply into knowledge.”

As she gazed at him, a tantalizing smile gradually overspread his features, but it had an evil edge and gave her a chill of apprehension to see it. Slowly, deliberately, he held out the book he had in his hand. His voice became even more alluring and seductive as he spoke. “Would you like to taste the forbidden fruit, Miss Lupin? Do you have the courage to explore the prohibited? Or the strength of character to resist the temptation?”

Her eyes were drawn, almost unwillingly, from his face to the book. On closer examination, the pale leather looked horribly like tanned human skin. There were runes on the binding that she had not seen from a distance, which could have been written in blood. There was indeed a seduction in that book, in those markings. Something that called to her, asking her to read, to learn, to know… promising knowledge, and with knowledge would come power. It was a siren song of seduction, assurances of glory and wealth and fame, whispering of forbidden things and all manner of rewards….

Her eyes were bright and her heart raced. A pink flush overspread her cheeks, and her lips parted as her breathing quickened. Her mouth was suddenly very dry and a strange, longing hunger filled her like yearning lust, which she was far too young to understand or recognise for what it was. It called to her, and she wanted to answer. She wanted to touch that book, to read it, to plunder its knowledge, wield its power and gain the strength it promised.

Somewhere, deep in the farthest recesses of her mind, the tiny rational voice in her head chided her over such nonsense. It was the same voice that derided her whenever she indulged in whimsical daydreams concerning the boy before her, or wished for the impossible. The same voice that had already told her, again and again, she would forever be too timid and frightened to have any hope of being an Auror, no matter how exemplary her marks might be.

The book offered her power, and with power would come courage to overcome that timidity!

Her internal voice scoffed… when had she ever wanted power or glory or fame? She, who was too shy to even speak up in class with the correct answer because of the room full of classmates who would look at her as she spoke? Ridiculous! This sort of power wasn’t for her!

Yet she wanted it—just by looking at it, she wanted it.

Even knowing that if she attained it, she would hate it. Love it and hate it at the same time.

And then she knew. This was the lure of Dark Magic. The seductive promise of whatever your heart desired. Yet underneath it was the cost—to give over your free will completely and let the magic control you at its whim.

With great effort, she forced her eyes from the book and leaned back, away from its seduction and Severus—who had his own unfathomable grasp on her interest. She looked into his eyes as though she might draw courage from doing so, even though he was the source of the temptation. Shaking her head, she tried to swallow, though her mouth was paper-dry. She found that she was trembling slightly, and felt the chill of perspiration on her lip.

“No,” she whispered. The word sounded breathless and forced. But then her voice found strength with the utterance and she was able to continue in stronger tones. “No, I want to find my own strength—if I have any at all—not a false or external one.”

For an instant, she thought she saw a flash of something in his eyes. Approval? Disappointment? Admiration? Envy? It was gone in an instant, the gleaming black eyes shuttering themselves again behind the sneering veneer, and he laughed cruelly.

“No Gryffindor bravery in you, is there, Miss Lupin? Suit yourself; I’ll not offer again. You cannot begin to appreciate what you have just declined.”

“No, I’m sure I can’t,” she replied simply and then returned to her book. She couldn’t read it, only hide behind it and think miserably about what was happening to this boy.

The promise of power and revenge must seem sweet to him indeed, after all he had experienced. She didn’t blame him, didn’t even begrudge him his decision. But she was saddened. That his brilliance would be lost to Darkness was a pity. Her fascination for him did not decrease, but she now viewed him as a lost soul, as potential wasted and perhaps forever gone.

The rest of the train ride was spent in total silence, and they never again shared a compartment alone.




One Saturday in March, Rowena headed to the Library for some intensive revision. Exams were coming up, and she wanted to be prepared. She sat at a lone desk, but she could hear some Gryffindor girls chattering at a nearby table. Lily Evans was among them.

“You won’t believe what happened last night!” Lily said in a breathless whisper to the girls.

“What? I knew it had to be something big. Remus and James are both really furious with Sirius. I never thought those boys would have a falling out,” said one of the girls excitedly.

“Well, I don’t know the details,” Lily began in a whisper, “James won’t even tell me, so it has to be something really secret. But Sirius did something, some kind of prank, to try to hurt Severus Snape! Remus said if James hadn’t stopped him in time, Severus would have been killed!

“As it is, I’ve never seen Severus looking so enraged—and you know how angry he can get. It must be true, though, because Sirius is now on detention for the next month, he lost a hundred house points and he’s banned from Hogsmeade visits for the rest of the year. I’ve never heard of Dumbledore being that angry.

“It seems to be Sirius’s doing alone, because James and Remus didn’t get any reprimand at all. In fact, James was awarded house points for saving Severus’ life—and he’s going to get some sort of award for special services.”

The girls all chattered excitedly over the news, speculating what the prank could have been that was so life threatening. One girl voiced the opinion, seconded by others, that Snape was such an unpleasant git it wouldn’t have been a huge loss if Sirius had succeeded. Another giggled at how angry Severus would be to have to be indebted to James for saving his life, seeing as how they hated each other so much.

Rowena left the library, sickened by what she had overheard. She wandered the corridors and grounds anxiously for hours until at last she caught a glimpse of Severus. He was sitting under the beech tree by the lake in spite of the chilly weather, and he indeed looked more intensely enraged than she had ever seen him. But he also looked whole and unhurt, so that she was at last able to return to her studies.




The next Quidditch match was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Rowena disliked attending Quidditch games. She much preferred to read or study, as her terrible fear of heights made getting in and out of the stands a sore trial for her. However, she had seen Severus and some of his ‘dangerous’ friends plotting together and heard a whisper about ‘the Quidditch’, and so she decided to attend. She suspected he had some sort of exquisitely subtle retaliation planned for the attempt on his life and she wished to witness it.

She made it to the stands clutching the arms of her friends’ robes and sat watching—not the game—but Severus, who sat in the stands almost directly across from her. The game began normally enough, and for the first thirty minutes of dirty play, rapid scoring, and frequent fouls, she thought perhaps she had been mistaken in her assumption that something was going to happen.

And then she saw it. It was only the briefest motion from Severus, his wand apparently hidden within a voluminous sleeve. She quickly darted her eyes to Potter. It seemed as though his broom had become slippery somehow. He had been just reaching for the Snitch, the stands in an uproar, when his grip of hands and legs was no longer sufficient to keep him on his broom. Without warning, he had suddenly slipped completely off his broom while still traveling at great speed and height.

Madam Hooch was there and waved her wand instantly to slow his fall, but he still landed quite hard. His broom dropped out of the sky like lead immediately after him, and resisted every attempt from anyone to pick it up. It was as though it was so slippery as to be frictionless, or else too heavy to move.

The crowd was on its feet, everyone screaming in shock, surprise, and a variety of other emotions. Severus was standing as well, but his almost smug expression was one of bored satisfaction.

Slytherin won the game, of course. Potter suffered multiple broken bones. His broom was completely ruined. The rumour quickly spread as to what had happened. The broom had been coated in some sort of unique, frictionless potion that had not been noticed at first, because it apparently had to be activated by a command word, which required a wand. The teachers were unable to inactivate or neutralize the potion, and so Potter was forced to buy a new broom.

The professors searched for the culprit, and of course Severus was an immediate suspect. They checked every student’s wand with “Prior Incantato” to find the offending wand and student, but found nothing. It was brilliant.

Later, though, Rowena’s curiosity got the better of her. How had he been able to erase the spell from his wand? She knew she had seen him cast it. Unable to contain herself any longer, she asked one of her Slytherin friends, Anita Zabini, if she knew how it had been accomplished. Anita smiled slyly and gave her a searching look.

“Well, okay, I will tell you, since I know you like Severus too much to betray him. But if I find out anyone knows you know…. Slytherins are very good at vengeance, as I’m sure you realize,” she said, making no attempt to conceal the threat.

She leaned towards Rowena conspiratorially and whispered, “It will be his Dark wand. Lots of us have them. You can buy them in Knockturn Alley. They aren’t registered with the Ministry like legal wands, so no one knows who has them. They’re completely illegal, of course, but they’re quite useful. If you are going to be doing a Dark spell, or any spell you don’t want traced to yourself, you use your Dark wand. That way, your registered wand is clean when they come to do the ‘Prior Incantato’ spell.”

Rowena absorbed this knowledge in silence, nodding her understanding. A Dark wand. Severus Snape was indeed dabbling in dangerous waters. Yet he had ample reason for his desire for vengeance, and since Potter was not permanently injured in the event, Rowena continued to silently applaud his skill and subtle retaliation.




She had little doubt now, even in her most wishful phases, that he had indeed thrown his lot in with Darkness. She continued to be drawn to him, to watch him, even to continue her photography hobby and to long to know him better—but she knew it was all for naught.

Potter pursued Lily more aggressively this year and Severus seemed to have given her up, if he had ever really been inclined toward her in that way. There was less fighting between them—though this might also be the result of McGonagall leaving Black and Potter on probation for the entirety of the school year.

Severus seemed completely consumed by his ambition for knowledge, his desire for learning and power. He was never seen without a book, though he often used concealment charms to hide their subjects. No girls seemed to catch his interest at all, not even the most blatant overtures by some of the Slytherins who were nearing the end of school and intent on making pureblood matches. He attended no social events, no Quidditch games, and Rowena no longer saw him tutoring other students, or even playing the occasional match of chess. The Darkness seduced him, and he seemed to give himself wholly over to it with willing abandon.

Rowena wished there was a way for her to redeem him from the path he had chosen, perhaps to befriend him and save him from his fall. But somehow even her twelve-year-old idealist self knew that if there was to be redemption for him, it would have to come from within himself.


Lost Souls by Shanti [Reviews - 2]

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