Water-horse (Snape fan fiction)

First Blood

Ch.2 — First Blood

Reserved and gypsy-dark, Magnus Lovell, now in his sixth year in Ravenclaw House at Hogwarts, had always been tall for his age. Over the last year he had finally begun to broaden out to match his gangly height. During the summer, Snape noted with distaste, he had also taken the daring step of acquiring a single gold earring. Some feather-witted girl had probably told him that it made him look piratical and dashing. To Snape's mind it made him look more like a Muggle garage mechanic.

He stared coldly at Lovell until the boy looked down and began to shuffle. "If you've quite finished inspecting the hem of your robes, Mr Lovell...." Snape's voice was silky, but Magnus flushed.

"Professor McGonagall said you needed some stuff moving down to the dungeons, sir."

"Yes." Obviously, Snape's expression implied. He indicated the crate that held the each uisge with a brief jerk of his wand. "This one contains livestock. I suggest that you handle it with extreme care."

Another flick of his wand rounded up the levitating small packages and sent them bobbing ahead of him towards the stairs down to the lower levels of Hogwarts. He was halfway across the hall when a yelp and crash from behind him told him that the boy Lovell had managed to drop the packing-case.

He swung round on his heel, snarling. "I believe I mentioned extreme care, Mr Lovell?"

The seals on the case were unharmed, but Lovell's hand was bleeding. The denizen of the cage had obviously managed to get in a bite. Snape relaxed and allowed himself a thin smile.

"I suggest more attention in future when handling hazardous materials," he told the boy coldly, watching him take a fresh grip on his burden, and swept his own load out of the hall and down the stairs.

He passed Lovell several times as the pile of packages in the entrance hall steadily decreased. The Ravenclaw appeared to be making extremely slow progress. As Snape came swiftly up the stairs for a third time, the boy stumbled, missed a step, and almost brought them both crashing to the ground. A wicked black head, flattened against the inside of the crate, twisted round and tried to get in a nip at Snape in passing, only to recoil before a venomous hex.

Snape brushed off his robes, regained his balance and directed a truly murderous glare at the incompetent Lovell. The boy was almost in tears. He made another attempt to lift the packing-case, flinching with pain, and let it slip, holding out both hands in appeal. They were covered with shallow nips and scrapes and bleeding freely. "Sir — I can't—"

"Silence!" Snape stared him down. "I would have expected more initiative from a Ravenclaw of your abilities, Mr Lovell." An almost contemptuous flick of his wand set a Repulsion hex along the edges of the slats, bringing a harsh hiss from the dark shape within. He pointed his wand in the direction of Lovell's hands.

"Torpeo!"

Lovell let out a gasp as the Numbing Curse hit, then stared down at his nerveless extremities in mingled relief and dismay. He fumbled to pick up the crate with some difficulty.

"Get on with it." Snape turned away sharply. "I'll expect you to bring down what's left from the Entrance Hall once you've finished. I have work to do."

But he took care to supervise the creature's transfer to Professor Kettleburn's enclosure himself, all the same, forcing the horse-demon across from travelling-crate to sturdy cage without allowing for one moment the Containment Curse to lapse that held it pent in miniature form. It was not until the Curse had been firmly anchored in its new destination, and the protections on every bar of the enclosure checked over yet again — he had absolutely no intention of trusting his own safety to them on the strength of old Kettleburn's assurances — that he dismissed Lovell to fetch down the remainder of the supplies and allowed himself to relax a little.