(Enchanting Melodies) Chapter 328: Dark Wings (Patreon)

Chapter 328: Dark Wings

5th October 1995, Hogwarts (Earth 2)

If someone had said to Severus Snape that he would end up having to follow a student around in the castle, he would have either assumed they were drunk, or he would have called them a dunderhead before giving them a week’s worth of detention. Unfortunately for him, he was ordered by Albus Dumbledore to follow the Smith boy all day, analysing his movements. Him, Severus Snape, the youngest potion master in Britain and one of the key figures in the coming war, had to follow around a teenager.

It was demeaning, it was an insult to his skills. It was also not going well. He had been doing it for a few days, and so far, the boy didn’t act in any particularly different way, at least not compared to other students. He went to class, went to the Great Hall, spent time with that useless Longbottom whelp, and went to bed. He went to the library once to check out books, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary then.

The most infuriating part was the fact that the boy had kept his journal close to him at every time. It was also protected, at least from being summoned, and Severus did notice signs of certain Alarm Charms that were commonly sold by a few vendors in Diagon Alley. They were expensive and custom-made, but Smith seemed to relish in making Severus’ life miserable.

The potion master had even tried to steal it from his dormitory, but the boy actually slept with it in his arms. He knew that little fact because he had been almost driven to desperation. Sneaking into students’ dormitories was just wrong. And Merlin, the smell alone would have deterred him. The mere thought of how he had humiliated himself by doing this only to return with nothing was driving him mad.

Legilimency on the boy’s classmates didn’t help either. They never saw Smith without his journal close by. Stealing it was implausible because of the security enchantments alone. He could technically disable them if he had half an hour alone with the journal, and that was pretty unlikely to happen since the boy always kept the damned book on his person.

Subtlety was one of Severus’ specialities. He had to be in order to survive both Voldemort and Dumbledore. All for Lily’s child…

And to make things worse, there were no events that truly cemented the boy’s status as a seer. Then again, Severus didn’t expect him to spout prophecies every hour. He had never really been in the company of a genuine seer and had no true frame of reference on the matter.

Seers were rare, after all, and very dangerous. They were either cunning or simply driven mad by their visions. If their minds did not break, they often became very calculating, manipulative, and could weave webs of lies and events that would trap even the most powerful wizards without even lifting a finger. Well, the seers of old were, at least.

Having seen the way Trelawney had proclaimed herself to be a seer, he had to admit that his expectations were tempered. The woman was a Prophet, that was for sure; Severus himself had heard the prophecy which cost him everything he held dear. He did not doubt her powers and for some reason, he expected Smith to be similar to her.

There was no confirmed sighting of a truly powerful seer since Cassandra Trelawney over a century prior and there was probably a reason for it. If one could see the future, they would do their best not to make a target of themselves. There were rumours of Gellert Grindelwald being a seer, but it was never really confirmed and Albus never really said anything about it. If a seer was smart, they would simply hide in the midst of society, using their gifts subtly to enrich themselves and make sure that they would live a long and happy life.

Cassandra Trelawney, though, did not do that. She was powerful enough to manipulate nations to her bidding and had more influence than any other person in the entirety of Europe at the time. People would give her fortunes just for a few minutes of conversation and any violent attempts at capturing her ended up with the perpetrator dead before they even tried.

People tried to blame it on her, of course, and they always found perpetrators. It was maddening. After five ministers and seventeen potential dark lords died mysteriously, all of them from completely different sets of potential enemies and accidents, people decided to stay clear of the witch.

Severus didn’t know if it was a shame or not that Sybill Trelawney did not measure up to her ancestor. The boy, though, was very young and according to Albus, wouldn’t have had the time to hone his gifts properly. The potion master certainly hoped so, at least.

However, if the boy truly was a seer, then subtlety simply wouldn’t work. There were a few events that did put more credence in Albus’ claim. For example, Severus’ godson, Draco, had tried multiple times to hex the boy from the back, only for him to always dodge just a fraction of a second before it happened. It wasn’t exactly proof that the boy was a seer. A semi-competent Auror could have done the same easily.

But a series of narrow dodges, even when Severus used a compulsion charm on one of his classmates to stun the boy, started to grate on the potion master. Nothing was working. He had hoped that getting proof of the boy’s abilities would have been enough for Dumbledore. The journal being relevant was barely more than an educated guess on the headmaster’s part. He should have been satisfied with another form of proof. Yet no incident as definitive as what happened in his potion lesson occurred.

To be completely fair, the odds of a possible life-threatening event, like what Draco foolishly did in his class, happening in a few days, were very low. And Severus might not be a good person, but he would not, under any circumstances, endanger his students in this way just to get a student to reveal some skill he might not even have.

It also grated on Severus’ nerves that he was quickly running out of ideas. The mere thought of a student beating him, just rubbed him the wrong way.

If the boy truly was a Seer, then him outthinking Severus was technically possible. There was no shame in losing an intellectual fight with someone who cheated by already knowing the outcome. However, as a dueller, Severus had very few equals. Seeing the future or not, the boy would lose a fight. The direct approach was possibly the best decision. It was probably something that a Gryffindor would come up with, but complicated plans had multiple points of failure.

It would do, as long as he did not incriminate himself, of course. Thankfully, he had an entire house to act as scapegoats. No one would really bat an eyelash at a Slytherin and Gryffindor duelling in the corridors, after all.

Severus ignored the small part of his mind that screamed that this was a bad idea.

It hadn’t taken Severus long to find Marcus Flint designing some Quidditch tactics for their next game and he stunned the boy. The Quidditch team captain was a perfect cover for what he had in mind. He was violent, had fought with Smith before and was known for hexing students who annoyed him, though not Slytherins; Severus had made sure of that, of course.

Severus used a vial of his Polyjuice potion to morph into the student’s form and walked towards the library, where he overheard Smith telling his classmates was going to spend some time there during his potion class.

He waited in one of the corridors that he knew the boy must take before entering the class and had put temporary aversion wards for everyone but Smith.

It had taken a few minutes until the boy arrived and Severus tried to hex him in the back, only for Smith to duck as if he was trying to tie his shoes. He gave the potion master a bright smile, “Hello, Flint. How’s it going?”

Severus was not in the mood to talk and just sent a small barrage of spells at the boy, who simply batted away the spells.

“Now, now, Flint, you seem tense,” Smith said casually, leaning against the stone wall, his posture relaxed and confident. “Have you been hitting the books too hard? You know, stress isn’t good for the complexion. Or perhaps you’ve been spending too much time around the dungeons, the fumes can do things to your head.” His tone was light, almost mocking, which for some reason infuriated Severus to no end.

The professor took a deep breath, reigning in his temper. “You have something I need, Smith,” he said, keeping his voice steady, imitating Flint’s drawl. “Hand it over, and I’ll let you walk away.”

Smith raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh? And what might that be, Flint? My latest Potions essay? Sorry, but I doubt even you could make any sense of it.” He chuckled softly, a sound that grated on Severus’s nerves even more. “Or maybe you’re looking for that Charms textbook you lost last week? You know, you should really take better care of your belongings.”

Severus’s patience snapped. He drew his wand, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Enough of your games,” he hissed, his voice low and threatening. “I don’t have time for this. Give me your journal, Smith, or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what?” Smith interrupted, his voice still calm, even cheerful. “Hex me? Curse me? Oh, I’m so scared!” He placed a hand over his heart dramatically, then laughed. “Flint, you’ve got to learn to lighten up. Life’s too short to be so serious all the time.”

It was exactly then that Severus realized why his control over his emotions was slipping. The way the boy walked, the way he talked, the smug smile on his face, the way he taunted Severus… It was all so familiar. It wasn’t hard for Smith’s face to be replaced by an infuriatingly familiar one, specifically James Potter’s face. Severus always had a tight grip on his emotions, but that loathsome man was always a sore point for him.

No one ever said that he was perfect…

The potion master closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

No, this was not the time to lose control. The mission was more important. And maybe, if he used a few harmful curses to relieve his stress, no one would say anything. He unleashed a string of curses, each one more potent than the last. But Smith moved like water, weaving around the spells with a grace that seemed almost unnatural. His movements were fluid and effortless as if he knew exactly what Severus was going to do before he did it.

And that was when Severus felt it, pain hitting his cheeks. He had been slapped. It was a spell, he was sure of that, but it had landed. The potion master hadn’t seen it, just felt it.

A student landed a fucking spell on him…

No one could know about this. He was about to cast another spell only to feel two following slaps.

Severus just couldn’t help himself. The small crack in his self-control widened and he yelled out, “Sectumsempra!”

He barely had time to regret his action when the spell hit the boy in the chest, only to go through it, and he murmured, “An illusion…”

He cast a revealing charm, his wand sweeping through the air in a precise arc. The charm shimmered for a moment until it revealed the boy, reading his journal, looking unconcerned, the very journal that Severus needed to steal.

He immediately sent a stunning charm at the boy, only for the charm to go through him once more. Suddenly, Severus found himself being thrown to the other side of the corridor. The potion master got up with a snarl, pointing his wand at the source of the push, only to find nothing there.

Laughter rang out from all over the room. The sound echoed, bouncing off the walls, disorienting him. He spun back, his eyes darting, trying to locate the source of the voice. But the corridor was empty.

Suddenly, Severus found himself being pulled to the ground and his wand flew from his hand. He noticed that he was bound in ropes and could barely move any of his limbs. Smith slowly walked up to him, “Seriously, Flint? What were you thinking?”

The potion master simply growled in reply, anger seething beneath the surface. His wand lay a few feet away, out of reach, and he cursed himself for underestimating this boy. He had never seen anyone use illusions with this level of mastery. It had always seemed like a useless type of magic; Confundus charms worked well enough that no one really needed to craft elaborate illusions. It was safe to say that Severus’ opinion on the matter was changed after losing a fight with a student of all things.

Smith grinned down at him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes that reminded Severus far too much of Potter and Black in their school days. The ropes binding him were enchanted, refusing to budge even with his strongest efforts to break free.

"Now, Flint," Smith said, crouching down to Severus's level, his voice dripping with mock sympathy, "you really should’ve known better. Trying to hex me from behind? That’s just rude. I expected more from a Slytherin. You know, cunning, sly, all that. But you’ve been hanging out in the dungeons too long; it’s dulling your senses."

He smirked, and Severus felt a flash of heat in his cheeks. The humiliation of being bound and mocked by a student was unbearable. The situation itself was strangely familiar, with a smug teenager looking down on him, taunting him. But he forced himself to stay calm, to think. He could still turn this around. He just needed an opening. After all, the boy was obviously overconfident.

Smith held up a book, and Severus’s eyes locked onto it. His goal, the reason he had come here. The journal he needed. Smith waved it in front of his face, tauntingly. "Is this what you were after? You know, if you wanted to borrow it, you could have just asked. I wouldn’t have said yes, of course, but there would be no need for all the theatrics, and you could have saved yourself this little humiliation," He chuckled, enjoying every moment of Severus’s discomfort.

Severus saw his chance. He lunged forward, pretending to lose his balance, and managed to headbutt Smith squarely in the stomach. The impact was enough to make Smith stumble back, surprised. That was all Severus needed. He discreetly summoned his wand back to his hand, feeling the familiar weight settle into his palm.

Before Smith could react, Severus flicked his wand, murmuring a silent Doubling Charm. It was a special spell that he had learned during his tuition. Stealing diaries and journals was commonplace in Slytherin – you never knew if you would ever need any leverage on anyone and diaries were very good sources of private information – and there were spells carefully created to bypass common security enchantments that journals are sold with. Lucius Malfoy, in particular, was a master of those spells in school. It was almost enough for him to cow the house into submission with just the information he had collected during his tuition.

It was a gamble, a bet on Smith’s negligence at personally warding his journal, but it worked. The book in Smith’s hand shimmered briefly, and an identical copy appeared in Severus’s other hand. He tucked the copy into his robes, making sure Smith didn’t see the movement. With another flick, he released the ropes binding him, only for him to be disarmed once more. This time, it was by design. He had already gotten what he wanted, after all.

Smith, having grabbed Severus’ wand, was smirking at him. "Nice try, Flint. You almost got me there," he said, not realizing what had just transpired. He tossed Severus’s wand back to him carelessly. "But next time, maybe think a little harder before you pick a fight with someone out of your league. Out of curiosity, why did you want to steal my journal? I don’t see why you’d really care about it…"

“Umbridge put a bounty on it for some reason, but she can’t exactly make you give it to her, since it’s a personal item and she can’t exactly ban writing in a notebook in a school, can she? You seriously didn’t know? The entire school is gunning for this thing.

Severus wasn’t even lying then. Umbridge had truly put a bounty on the journal for some ungodly reason and said that she would offer fair compensation for it. It was probably giving someone an O in her class, or something as useless. The woman definitely didn’t have enough gold to throw around, especially since she lost a small fortune buying and losing banned items.

Smith simply shrugged and just entered the library, leaving Severus alone in the corridor. He quickly removed all effects on his person and slowly walked to his office. Oh, he was seething at the humiliation he experienced and will definitely take it out of his students later. However, his objective was done. He now had a temporary copy of the boy’s journal.

Curious, he took a quick look at it, and his eyes widened with every page. He practically ran out of his office. The headmaster had to know. He was humiliated by the encounter, but it seemed to be worth the trouble. Oh, he was going to make the boy's life miserable for the rest of the school year, but at least it was over. Albus would finally get what he wanted.

In all this time, he failed to notice Smith’s smile widen as he walked away to the library.

AN: I'm not sure about that one, to be completely honest. I hope the confrontation came out like I wanted it to. I don't know for sure, so please let me know what you think. Also, I'm going to start wrapping up this arc so if you have any ideas that you want to see, this is the time to suggest them.