Another Kind Of Magic - A Severus Snape Fanfiction

Blood and Tears

A single tear ran down pale, bloodless skin, leaving a sticky trail of smudged mascara and salty liquid behind.

Lena was numb. She could not comprehend what had happened. One minute she had been in the arms of the man she so desired, only to find herself on all fours a moment later, with a bucket full of soapy water next to her, and an old, worn rag in her hand.

How could she have been so stupid? Why hadn't she listened to Jessica? If she had left the necklace safely locked up in her jewelry box, none of this would have happened. Yet instead, here she was, scrubbing the floor of Professor Snape's office on her knees, staining her beloved dress.

As she mindlessly rubbed the same spot over and over, polishing the stone tile meticulously, her eyes fell on the black robe that was lying near the desk, the spine of a large textbook peeked out from underneath. Slowly, she crawled over and reached for it. It still held his warmth. An enormous lump formed in Lena's throat, and she tightly hugged it to her chest, as if the heavy fabric could absorb the pain of her broken heart. Instead, it only soaked up her incessant stream of tears. Inhaling deeply to take in the Potions Master's scent, she clung so desperately on to the robe as if her life depended on it.

The stroke of the large wooden clock in the corner of the room made her jump. She had been in here for far too long and the professor would surely come back any time now. And she hadn't even finished cleaning!

With a heavy heart, she neatly folded the robe and hung it carefully over the armrest of a chair, before she returned to the bucket and the rag that were patiently waiting for her.

Bitterly weeping, Lena began collecting the shards that were scattered all across the floor. She had to blink constantly, for the damp layer that was clouding her vision made it incredibly hard to see what she was doing.

"Ouch!" she cried out as the sharp end of a broken vial cut deeply into her flesh. She brought her injured hand up to examine the damage. Blood was trickling out of her palm, dripping down to the floor in the rhythm of her heartbeat, where it mixed with the spilt potions.

As soon as the first drop of blood rippled the shiny golden surface that once had been the contents of the vials, the liquid substance lost all its color and became as clear as water.

Intrigued, Lena bent down and was immediately met with her reflection. The mixture of potions and blood was like crystal, she could clearly see the awful mess she was. Red hair framed a sallow face, blank eyes, inflamed and swollen from shedding tears, stood in stark contrast. Her lips were swollen, too, but for an entirely different reason. Inadvertently, her thoughts drifted back to the professor's heated kisses and another tear made its way down her cheek and fell silently into the watery puddle.

Lena's eyes grew wide in shock as her reflection began to fade, and in its place appeared the image of .... Professor Snape!

He looked a little bit older and his hair was longer, but that was not the reason why she could feel the sharp claws of fear bore into her neck. His beautiful onyx eyes were heavy-lidded, the handsome facial features she loved so much were contorted in pain, as his lips were parted to accommodate for his labored breathing. He had his hand pressed against his neck, and when a disturbing gurgling sound left his throat, it dropped weakly to his side, revealing a horrific, and very likely lethal gash. Now that there was nothing left to stop it, blood gushed out of the wound, soaking the white collar that peeked out from underneath the Potions Master's frock coat. He let out a tortured moan, his eyes pleadingly roaming around until they locked with hers. They were so full of agony that Lena shrieked in terror.

"Professor!" she yelled, helplessly trying to touch the image of the dying man. "No! Professor!"

But all her shouting was in vain. His mouth fell open, and with one last aggravated breath, the light in his eyes ceased to exist.

"Oh Gods!" Lena's hands flew over her mouth in panic to muffle her screams. "Oh Merlin, oh Gods! Severus!"

She was beside herself with fear for him and almost didn't notice that his picture gradually became blurry and made way for another vision.

When Lena saw it, she removed her hands from her lips and stared intently at the image of a young, red-haired woman. She couldn't have been much older than Lena; her hair, however, was not as dark as hers, it was more of a strawberry blonde. She had a very pretty, very friendly face, but a dark shadow of grief and worry obscured her beauty.

"Lena," she whispered sadly, and Lena's heart set out. Was the image talking to her? How could that be? "Lena," she said again, this time with more urgency. "Save him! Don't give up. Save him!"

That instant, the liquid substance became hazy and fog began to eclipse the woman's face, until it was completely gone, and an ordinary puddle of spilt potions was all that was left.

Panic-stricken, Lena ran out of her teacher's office and bolted out of the castle. She didn't care that the temperatures were way below freezing; she didn't care that she was breaking school rules and that she could face severe punishment if anyone saw her outside at that late hour; she didn't even care that there was no moon to light up the way she was heading. Lena just had to run. She needed to run, no matter where her feet would take her.

The farther away she got from the castle, the harder it became to move through the thick layer of snow. Mercilessly, the sky kept pouring the large white crystals over the land, making them dance in the icy breeze of winter.

When her lungs started to burn inside her chest, like fire that was eating through her body, she slumped down to the ground, struggling to maintain the oxygen level that was needed to keep her conscious. The frosty air she gasped for was heavy and thick, only adding to the pain in her lungs. It took several minutes until her breathing steadied and she had calmed down enough to take in her surroundings.

Giant ancient trees were towering above her. She couldn't make out a path, not even her own footprints could have led her back. The continuous snowfall had already covered them up.

She closed her eyes slowly. Lost. A smile played around her lips at the thought. Lost. How fitting, indeed. She was lost, in every way imaginable.

The soft crunching of snow made Lena look up again. Someone was approaching her. Someone had found her.

There was no point in even trying to determine this person's identity, since their face was hidden behind a grotesque mask.

"Well, well," a male voice rumbled in amusement. "Who do we have here?"

Quickly, Lena stumbled to her feet, a new gush of fear pulsing through her veins, as she examined the hooded figure.

He took a step toward her, halting just a few feet away from her.

"If this isn't my lucky day." Lena couldn't see it, but she heard the sinister grin reflected in the tone of his voice. "A pretty witch, all alone in the Forbidden Forest. And as it seems, completely unarmed."

"What do you want?" Lena tried to sound brave but failed miserably.

"Funny you should ask that," he replied casually with a shrug of his cloaked shoulders. "I was actually out on a hunt. Unicorns, you see, are said to have populated this area again. However, it just so happens that my plans for the night have changed dramatically right now."

Lena shivered at his words and cautiously backed away from him, but the man quickly grabbed her arm.

"Not so fast," he growled. "Finders keepers, my dear."

She tried to free herself, but he only tightened his grip. "Let me go," Lena begged with a trembling voice.

"I don't think so," he stated flatly. "You might be very useful."

With that, he lifted her up, throwing her carelessly over his shoulder as if she were a sack of flour.

Lena defended herself with everything she had, which wasn't much to begin with, but she refused to just let this happen to her. Flailing her arms and legs wildly, she successfully hit the man several times, but he didn't seem to be bothered at all. Instead, it entertained him. "Fight all you want, little witch," he laughed as he carried her deeper into the forest.

"Please," she whimpered, even though she knew only too well that no one could hear her. "Please, help me."

It was then that she took note of her necklace that was dangling in front of her nose. The pendant was glowing bright red.