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The Murderer's Shadow by silvian_sicily0 [Reviews - 0]

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Thanks to everyone who has patiently followed Snape and Sicily through two stories now! Yes, this is the final chapter of The Murderer’s Shadow. But don’t cry, because, hopefully soon, there will be yet another story!

So as always: Read. Review. ENJOY!




The Murderer’s Shadow

Chapter Ten

Sicily sat at the table in the kitchen in her manor while she waited for her supper of lemon and rosemary salmon to finish baking in the oven. She glanced up at the clock, then returned to slicing the tomatoes in front of her. She added the last few pieces of the red fruit to her salad in a wooden bowl in front of her.

Sicily stood and moved to one of the cabinets in the kitchen; bending down, she opened the door, the hinges creaking, and removed a can of sliced black olives, a can of chickpeas and a bag of buttered garlic seasoned croutons.

Sitting back down at the table, Sicily tapped the top of each can with her wand to open them. Sicily pushed her chair back and stretched her arm back, holding the can of olives over the sink to drain the liquid. She then drained the chickpeas as well and then dumped the contents of both cans into the bowl.

“Hmmm... lettuce, red cabbage, carrots, mushrooms, tomatoes, green onions, olives, chickpeas... What else do I have to throw in here?” Sicily muttered, rising once again to her feet. She strode into the pantry and began rummaging through the baskets of fresh produce she had brought in from the manor’s gardens. Finding broccoli and cauliflower, Sicily returned to the table and began to chop the vegetables for her salad.

Sicily stood and pulled the glass backing dish from the oven, carefully setting it upon the knife-scarred table. She retrieved a plate from the rack on the counter behind her and put a small piece of salmon upon it, then spooned out a portion of salad. Sicily added a handful of croutons to the salad, then drizzled olive oil over it. She poured herself a tall glass of fire whisky, then picked up her plate, fork and napkin and walked into the living room.

Sicily set her drink and dinner upon the coffee table and proceeded to open the tall windows. The sweet, peaceful and relaxing sounds of the moor at night fluttered into the living room. She sat upon the wooden floor and began to eat her supper in the relative silence and calm of her moorside manor.

The occasional pop and crack of the logs in the fire and the constant tick-tick-tock of the clock on one of the shelves half hidden in the shadows reminded Sicily of her plans for that evening; she was going to travel, by the Floo Network, to Hogwarts to pick up her dreamless sleep potion from Snape.

Sicily rubbed her head with both hands before taking a long drink of her liquor. The day had been long and hard; five murder scenes, each more bloody than the last. She had worked each scene by herself; Landon Matthews had taken the week off because his six-month old niece Cylara had passed away after contracting an infection.

Sicily sighed, holding her now empty glass against her chest, and settled back onto the couch to wait for the clock to sound the hour of her appointment with Professor Snape.




Sicily stepped out of the fireplace, the heat of the flames sending the dungeon’s chill scurrying away from her body. She began to brush the ashes from her silver hooded tunic and black jeans.

“You’re a Death Eater,” Sicily heard a small, dreamy voice state matter-of-factly.

She looked up, her hand automatically flying to her left forearm; she had rolled her sleeves up past her elbows before stepping into the fireplace in her manor and the Dark Mark upon her arm was plainly visible.

Before her, kneeling beside the crumbled heap that appeared to be the tiny Charms professor, Flitwick, were two girls whose faces were familiar to Sicily; remembering back to the previous year, her mind discovered their identities – Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood – from the memory of the students that had been in Umbridge’s office the day Hogwarts lost their High Inquisitor.

Granger pointed her wand at Sicily, who just chuckled to herself as she reached for her own.

“Now, now, Miss Granger. Do you really think you can out-duel a Ministry official?”

Sicily could tell, by the instinct that so many years her job had given to her, that the girl was about to use the Disarming Spell.

“Expelli–“

“Protego!” Sicily shouted. Granger’s spell rebounded and sent her wand, herself, and Luna Lovegood flying backwards into the shelves lining the walls of Snape’s office. “Now, I am going to ask you both to stay here quietly,” Sicily began, stopping as she caught a movement in the reflection of one of the large glass jars.

Sicily spun around, another shielding spell blocking the spell the now conscious Flitwick had cast at her. A memory, also from her days of working under Umbridge at Hogwarts, flashed through her mind; Flitwick, stated in his file, had been a dueling champion in his younger years.

‘Damn...’ Sicily though as she raised her wand to the standard defense position. ‘What in hell is going on here. Where is Severus?”

Flitwick began throwing curses and spells at Sicily, each time the woman dispelling it with a flick of her wand. The spells rebounded, some ricocheting off the stone walls while others went hurtling into the shelves of Snape’s office, sending splinters of wood and shards of broken bottles and vials flying into the air.

Sweat began to bead upon Sicily’s brow as a Stunning spell flew within centimeters of her cheek. Flitwick nearly had her cornered away from the door; Sicily had to get out and away. She had to find Snape.

Sicily switched her mind and focus from defense to offense, her spells becoming more powerful with each cast. Her lips were dry as she continually muttered the invocations for the spells that seemed to flow from her inner mind without conscious thought; her wand began to feel like an extension of her hand as she flicked it through the air, trying to force Flitwick away from the door as she tried to inch closer to it.

The stray spells began crashing into ingredient jars above Sicily’s head; one rammed into a large jar of dragon’s blood. The red liquid cascaded over Sicily’s head, drenching her in the rancid blood, nearly causing her to gag.

The door was nearly within reach; Sicily only needed a distraction that would give her enough time to run. She took aim with her wand, blinking the blood from her lashes as she aimed above Flitwick’s head. The trick was to aim high enough to not hurt the tiny professor, but to also make it look like a narrow miss. She quickly chanted the words under her breath and cast a blinding white jet of fire at the shelves above Flitwick’s head. The spell crashed into the jars, causing them to shatter with the force of an explosion. Shards of glass flew through the air like arrows, burying their tips into the wood of Snape's desk and chair. The liquid preservative in the jars ignited in a fiery cloud, surging from the shelves and walls like a leviathan of flame, the roar threatening the burst the eardrums of everyone in the room. Sicily turned to the door behind her, fleeing from the destruction she left in her wake towards the mayhem raging on the floors above.

As Sicily ran into the Great Hall, the sounds of battle echoing down the steps towards her. She began trudging up the stairs in the direction of sound, when footsteps thundered towards her. She looked up to see Snape dragging the Malfoy boy with him as he hurtled down the steps, yelling back orders to a group of Death Eaters pushing their way through the throng of defenders.

“Severus, what–“

Her words were cut off by the roughness of Snape’s shove, which was followed by his hand clamping down upon her arm with surprising force. “Just run and get him to my place. Don’t stop no matter what happens. Keep the boy safe.”

Sicily turned back around, her silver heels nearly sliding out from under her as she trod upon a ruby that had spilled out from the Gryffindor hourglass. Snape pushed her, propelling her forward down the front steps of Hogwarts. She nearly fell face forward, her dragon’s blood soaked curls slapping her limply in the face.

The night air stung Sicily’s lungs as she bolted, Draco Malfoy running along at her side, Snape only a few paces behind. Behind her, the hut of the groundskeeper went up in flames, yet Sicily kept running, forcing all concentration into the movement of her legs; her fingers were twitching to grip her wand tightly and cast magic, any spell, to set all this right. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be; Voldemort wasn’t supposed to be back, the entirety of the wizarding world wasn’t supposed to be at war, she wasn’t supposed to be running for her life. She was supposed to be sitting in a soft and comfortable arm chair beside a roaring fire in Snape’s chambers, talking about her day with the Potions master.

A stray spell came hurtling through the air, whistling like an arrow past her shoulder. The red bolt of magic collided into the ground, sending a spray of sod into the air as Sicily ran.

“Run, Draco!”

Sicily stopped at the sound of Snape’s shout. She turned in mid step, one heel sinking into the soft turf of the grounds. The Malfoy boy ran past her, puffing as he ran with a terrified look upon his face. Sicily’s heart stopped beating for a moment as she stood rooted to the spot, listening to the voice of Harry Potter carry the beginning syllable of the Cruciatus Curse to her ears. ‘No,’ she thought, ‘No, please, no, Harry...’

She watched Snape deflect the curse before the boy completed it.

“Madame Sicily,” called Malfoy from behind, “Come on!”

Sicily turned reluctantly and began trotting towards the gates, the shouts and yells and screams of the professor and student duel ringing in her ears as she hustled. She caught up to the Malfoy boy and placed a shaking hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, fear reflected in his eyes.

“It will be okay,” Sicily said to him, trying to assure herself as much as him. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Malfoy nodded. Sicily released her grip on him and let him sprint ahead of her.

“DON’T CALL ME COWARD!”

Sicily stumbled and tumbled to the ground, throwing her hands out to catch herself. She felt something in her right wrist pop as her palm collided with the ground. Her face slammed into the ground, her teeth ripping into the tender flesh of her tongue and cheek. She felt her bottom lip split painfully. She heard Malfoy yell her name, but she mindlessly motioned him forward, silently signaled him to continue running. She turned over, shaking her bloody curls from her eyes, and watched Snape’s dark form hurtle towards her, the shadow of a hippogriff nearly becoming one with his.

Snape speed past her, the beast battering him with its wings and claws. Sicily jumped to her feet and ran after him, fumbling with her numb hand for her wand. She saw Snape reach the gates and the winged creature fly away; she pounded her way to the gates, grabbing onto the hem of Snape’s robes as he Apparated away.

She clung tightly to his arm as the world melted away. Then, she hit a cold, rough, wooden floor face first. This time her nose took the force of the landing and it began to ooze blood out onto the planks.

“Silvian,” she heard Snape’s voice in her ear; the usually silky tone was ragged and rough. “Are you alright?”

Sicily rolled over, panting from her sudden rush. “What’s happening?” she gasped out.

“It’s begun,” Snape said. He knelt down beside her and cradled her head in his arms. “Draco,” he ordered, “Go call for Wormtail and help him any equipment needed for healing and bring it down here. Quickly.” Sicily listened to the sound of footsteps disappear up the steps. “Silvian,” Snape began as he lifted her from the ground and carried her to the sofa, “The Dark Lord ordered Draco to kill Dumbledore this year. Narcissa Malfoy asked me to make an Unbreakable Vow to help him succeed; it was also part of Dumbledore’s plan. He was dying already; he came into contact with an ancient curse before the term began, remember? Silvian, the boy couldn’t do it.” He looked up towards the stairs as footsteps came rushing down them. “I had to.”

Sicily stared up at his face; it was covered with cuts, scrapes and slashes from the hippogriff’s claws. Sweat was beginning to shimmer on his sallow skin. She was looking into the face of a murderer. ‘No!’ her head screamed in unison with her heart. “It was part of the plan. This is war... but... no... Dumbledore... what now?’ Her thoughts were so confused and jumbled that all she could do was shake her head.

Snape straightened up as Malfoy and Wormtail entered the living room. “I’ll patch you up, Silvian. Then you must leave.”

Sicily simply nodded, a severe headache forming between her eyes. She swore she could hear the many bottles of fire whisky in her cabinets at her home calling her name. As she closed her eyes against the sting of wound cleansing potion, she vowed that she would go to work at the Ministry in the morning with a hangover London had never seen.

The Murderer's Shadow by silvian_sicily0 [Reviews - 0]

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