snape and skull

64

Wizard Slayer
S

everus flew as hard and fast as he could through the top branches of the Forbidden Forest, his black wings beating out a steady tempo, as he used all of his skill in close quarter flying and using updrafts and tail winds to increase his speed.
H

e followed Skull's unique mental bond, using it to navigate the forest and come upon the battling foes unaware. When he glided noiselessly from the cover of the treeline above a vale with a stream on one side and a small granite cliff with a cave at the top, he saw Hagrid trying to chop off the dragonell's foreleg using his axe while Silvanus attempted to drag himself out of the line of fire.
The dragonelle was wickedly fast, dodging the big man's swipes with ease. Its golden eyes glittered like molten magma, and it gave a rather musical howl as it dove upon the half-giant.
Kettleburn had lost his prosthetic leg and bore bleeding wounds upon his good arm, he had obviously been caught off-guard and tried to use it to protect his face from the wizard slayer's claws. The Magical Creatures teacher's face was screwed up in a grimace of pain, and he held his wand awkwardly in his hand, casting a simple Shield Charm.
Severus saw the blue shield envelop his colleague just as the dragonelle struck at Hagrid, who managed by the skin of his teeth to parry the terrible claws and teeth with his axe.
Good parry, Hagrid! Skull squawked, flying high overhead. Then the raven saw Severus. Sev! Thank Merlin you're here! That damn abomination just appeared out of nowhere and attacked. It was so quick it was almost like it Apparated.
Severus studied the dragonelle, assessing the situation in mere seconds before he reacted. He pointed his wand and cast a Weakening Hex upon the beast, since he knew a dragonelle had incredibly high resistance to magic—it had been made so by its creator, so it could hunt and slay wizards. But the hex was designed to lower that resistance, except it took a few minutes to work.
Still, Severus had other ways to hurt the poisonous menace.
He chanted a spell that caused all the nearby branches to become spears and then sent them at the dragonelle.
The creature looked up . . . and saw a dozen spears heading its way.
Screeching, it flew upwards, trying to avoid them, and while it was distracted, Hagrid reclaimed his crossbow and shot it with the nerve bolt.
SKREEE!
The dragonelle screeched in pain as the bolt embedded itself in its haunch.
"Well done, Hagrid!" Severus called. "Now fall back! Get Kettleburn back to the castle!"
The half-giant gaped at the black-robed professor. "Sir! How'd you know we needed ya?"
"A gossipy raven," replied Severus shortly. "Now enough chatter! Move!"
Hagrid wasted no more time but ran over to the injured Kettleburn and lifted him in his arms once Silvanus banished his charm. "Be careful, Professor Snape!"
"Always," Severus said succinctly.
Then he concentrated, surrounding himself with an Impermeable Force Charm. It was an incandescent bubble of force that would turn away almost all physical attacks, though it had never been tested against a dragonelle.
The dragonelle was shaking its head woozily, clearly the nerve bolt had affected it somewhat. Then it jerked its head up and its gold eyes met those of this new enemy.
Severus could feel the creature's mind trying to penetrate his own, but his Occlumency shields held firm. The dragonelle hissed in rage, not knowing why this wizard was not falling prey to its mental suggestions and beguilment.
Skull swooped down, cawing in challenge. "Come on, you overgrown offspring of a lizard's ass!"
The dragonelle roared and lunged at the annoying raven.
But Skull dipped into the astral and the dragonelle's fangs snapped upon empty air.
"Fool bird!" Severus swore. Then he soared upwards, conjuring a silver and green lance, similar to those used in jousting. He dipped the tip into a vial of salamander blood and then lit it on fire with a silent charm. Using height and sheer momentum, he dove down upon the creature, the lance couched beneath his arm, like a bolt from the heavens.
The dragonelle flew up to meet this black robed specter, its antlered head lowed to charge, intent upon spearing the flying wizard.
The tip of the fiery lance was pointed straight at the creature's chest, but Severus had not reckoned with the lightning swift agility it possessed.
It dodged at the last possible instant, and the fiery lance struck a glancing blow, injuring a foreleg and tearing a hole in one wing membrane.
The dragonelle screamed in fury and agony, and performed a spinning maneuver across the sky, avoiding Snape's second strike.
"Got you!" hissed the Potions Master. He beat his wings hard, trying to catch the faltering dragonelle.
But even with one wing injured, the dragonelle was still quick as blazes. It blinked its molten eyes and suddenly it blurred from view.
Severus frowned. It's using some sort of concealment magic. But I hurt it. Not fatally, but still . . .
Warily, he flew down and perched upon a branch, not wanting the sneaky creature to ambush him. He gripped the lance in both hands, ready to thrust it the moment he saw the dangerous beast again.
"Skullduggery!" he hissed.
"Here!" the raven purred. He reappeared to the left of Severus.
"Can you spot the damned thing? It used some kind of concealment charm and vanished."
"I'll see if its visible in the astral," the familiar chirruped and vanished into the Place Between Worlds.
Before the raven could reappear, a familiar phoenix did.
"Fawkes!" exclaimed Severus, recognizing the Headmaster's familiar.
The phoenix trilled a welcome, its feathers burning softly with eldritch fire.
"Where's Albus?" muttered the professor.
Fawkes made an odd sort of call, and circled the tree Severus was perched in.
Before the phoenix could do anything more, the dragonelle burst from cover, growling in a high-pitched war song.
"Fawkes, watch your back!" shouted Severus, too late.
The phoenix spun, but the dragonelle was like a deadly predator on the hunt.
It landed on top of the bird, despite the fiery nimbus, and bit down hard.
Fawkes screeched.
Severus snarled in rage as blood and feathers flew everywhere.
He flew off the branch, lance at the ready, and tried to spear the cursed creature again.
He was aided again by Skull, who reappeared right on top of the dragonelle's face and stabbed at its eyes with his sword sharp beak.
"Hey, ugly! How'd you like to be a Cyclops?"
The dragonelle hissed and jerked its head away but Skull's beak scored a bloody furrow down its face.
That was enough for Severus to thrust again, knocking the creature off the phoenix.
The dragonelle screeched and flapped away as Fawkes sang a death song before bursting into flames.
Severus flung a vial of salamander blood at the fleeing dragonelle, but it dodged and used its concealment magic to vanish before Severus could hurt it again.
"I think it's gone for now," Skull reported. "I can't feel it any more."
"What do you mean?" Severus queried.
"I can sense it, a bit. It has an aura of blood and death, like a dark practitioner, Sev." Skull replied. "You know ravens can sense those with the dark taint."
Severus nodded. "You're sure?"
Skull flew back to land on Snape's shoulder. "Sir, yes, sir! I think you drove it away for now."
Severus sighed and banished his conjured lance. "I bought us time. But for how long?"
"I don't know. Best we get back and tell Our Fearless Leader."
"Humph!" Snape snorted. "He knows. That thing killed his phoenix."
"Fawkes will be reborn," soothed Skull as Severus flew back towards the castle.
"Lucky for him," sighed the wizard. "Let's see how Silvanus is and Hagrid."
He knew he had been extremely lucky to catch the dragonelle off guard the way he had. Next time he might not be so lucky. He was not foolish enough to believe that the creature was defeated or cowed. He had won a skirmish, not the war. I need to speak with Lena and Irma about figuring out a way to protect the staff and students from the dragonelle's telepathic suggestions. There's no telling when it will strike again . . . and we need to be prepared to defend ourselves . . . or to get the students to safety.
He hoped that Albus would see reason after this latest attempt to corral the dragonelle had failed. Like last year, Snape felt it best to just close the school and send the students home until the dragonelle was killed or neutralized for good. However, he knew that Albus hated to do so, and admit defeat. That stubborn Gryffindor pride of his coupled with his eternal optimism might get in the way of his common sense, as so often was the case before. Severus just hoped his silver Slytherin tongue would be enough to persuade the old man to err on the side of caution.
Meanwhile:
Harry went to Transfiguration, but his heart was not in transfiguring porcupines to pincushions. He was thinking about his father and why he had flown off like that. He was fretting that something might have happened and so his concentration was not what it should have been. He nearly stuck himself upon the porcupine's quills until Loki hissed a warning to mind his fingers.
"Careful, Harry! Don't want to get stuck with them . . . a dog I knew in Windfar did and they hurt horribly to remove!" The small raven was perched upon the back of Harry's chair.
Harry quickly jerked his fingers away from the bristling quills. "Thanks, Loki," he murmured, sighing. He waved his wand in the prescribed pattern but nothing really happened.
"Mr. Potter-Snape, you need to concentrate harder," McGonagall reproved softly, coming over to see how he was performing.
"Sorry, professor," Harry apologized. "I'll try harder." How can I concentrate on class when I'm going mad wondering where my father is?
"Please do," urged his Head. "I'd wager your father will be disappointed if he returns and finds out you were fretting rather than studying."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry muttered, flushing at her kindly reproof. He glanced up at his teacher. "Do you know where he went?"
But the Transfiguration professor shook her head. "Regrettably, no. But I'm sure whatever caused him to leave isn't anything you need to be concerned over, Mr. Potter-Snape. He will be back soon and will expect you to do well in your studies."
"Right, professor," Harry agreed, knowing she was one hundred percent right about that. He bent his head to his text again, rereading the passage again.
After fifteen minutes of review he felt he was ready to try again. This time he managed to get the porcupine soothed and transfigured into a brown pincushion.
"You did it!" Loki cheered.
McGonagall gave him a pleased look. "Good effort, Mr. Potter-Snape! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
Harry smiled.
But then he recalled the elf Dobby's warning at Diagon Alley and his good mood was spoiled. Could that warning he gave me have anything to do with the dragonelle? If so, how did he know about it? I have to ask Prissy whose elf he is.
When McGonagall dismissed them, Harry ran down to the dungeons and Snape's quarters. They were empty, but Harry didn't care. He threw his bag on the couch and called, "Prissy!"
"You called, Master Harry Potter-Snape sir?"
The little elf popped into view, her cap slightly askew over her large ears.
"Hey, Prissy," Harry greeted her. "Uh, I was wondering . . . would you know anything about elves who are . . . bonded to other families?"
"That depends, Master Harry. Who is you wanting to know about?"
"Well, when I was in Diagon Alley before school started, I met this house elf named Dobby. He wanted to warn me of some kind of great danger . . . but he couldn't tell me what it was. And I wanted to ask him some more questions, but he disappeared before I could. Would you happen to know what family he works for?"
To his immense relief, Prissy nodded. "I does, Master Harry. Dobby be working for the great and powerful Malfoys. Like Prissy's old mistress' family, the Malfoys are strict and traditional."
Harry's jaw dropped. "That's—that's Draco's family!"
Prissy nodded. "I is glad to be helping Master Harry. Are you thirsty? Would you like some milk and chocolate biscuits?"
"Yes, please. But I need to talk to Draco."
"I can fetch Master Draco Malfoy if Master Harry needs him," Prissy offered.
Harry nodded. "Thanks, Prissy!"
Prissy popped out, and Harry sat down on the sofa, his mind whirling. Who would have thought Dobby served the Malfoys?
Around five minutes later there came a knock on the door. "It's me, Draco," called the Slytherin.
Harry opened the door. "Come in."
As he shut the door, Prissy popped back in with chocolate biscuits on a plate and goblets of milk for both boys.
The elf set the snack down on the coffee table and then disappeared after giving Harry a bow.
The Slytherin gave Harry a curious glance. "What did you want to ask me, Snape?"
"I'll tell you. Want a biscuit?" he gestured to the plate and the goblets.
Draco nodded and seated himself on the sofa, taking a biscuit and a goblet of milk. "Okay. Now spill it. I've got Quidditch practice in half an hour."
"Right. It's about your house elf . . ." Harry quickly told Draco about Dobby appearing to him in Diagon Alley.
The blonde's eyebrows went up. "Merlin's hat! Why didn't you tell me this before?"
Harry shrugged. "Umm . . .I kind of forgot about it with everything else going on. . . . you know, with the car and stuff . . ."
"I can understand that," the other boy conceded. "Especially with how mad your father was."
"Yeah, so . . . do you think we can find out more about what he meant?"
"Only one way to find out," Draco answered. "Dobby!"
The Hospital Wing:
"How is Silvanus?" Severus queried of Poppy.
They were speaking in low tones, with the curtains drawn about the professor's bed.
"He is asleep now, Severus," Poppy whispered. "Thanks to your potions I was able to arrest the venom and heal the wounds with spells. He will be able to return to classes sometime tomorrow afternoon."
"That's good." Snape sighed, relieved. "And what of Mr. Creevy?"
"He has been released this afternoon with a clean bill of health," murmured the mediwitch.
"What about some kind of counseling?" probed the professor. "After such a near-death experience . . ."
"I left that up to Minerva," replied Poppy. "He's her lion, it's her responsibility."
"True," he agreed, though he hoped the other professor would take into account that the child might benefit from a few sessions with a Mind Healer or some sort of trauma counselor. "What about Hagrid? Was he injured?"
Poppy shook her head. "No. A few scrapes and bruises is all."
Severus frowned, but assumed the gamekeeper had them tended, as even a slight cut from a dragonelle might be deadly if it had slashed the victim with its claws.
"I see. Well, if you don't need me to brew any more antidotes, I shall be speaking with the Headmaster." Severus turned to go.
No sooner had he cleared the portal of the infirmary, then Skull began to sing, "We're Off To See The Wizard," making Snape roll his eyes.
He whispered the password to the gargoyle, "Ice Mice." Then took the revolving staircase to Dumbledore's office, worry knotting his stomach. The dragonelle, he thought, was perhaps as dangerous as the revenant. He shuddered as he recalled the slimy feeling of the creature attempting to gain access to his mind. They had to come up with a plan to neutralize it, before it claimed lives. I got lucky today. But tomorrow our luck could run out . . .