Severus Snape held up the signed borrowing slip from Dumbledore, showing it to his friends. "I need your help."
"Unrestricted borrowing?" Patrick Abbott took the slip, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "How does something like this even exist?"
"It's from the Headmaster," Snape said, tucking the slip back into his robes. "This isn't the place to talk. Let's head to the lake."
The four of them descended the stone steps, the lake's surface gleaming like a mirror.
Once they were certain no one was around, Nagini slowly emerged from Snape's collar, her sleek head gliding into view.
"A snake?" Barty Crouch Jr. took a wary step back. "It doesn't bite you?"
Snape extended his left hand, letting Nagini coil around his wrist before gently placing her on the ground.
"She," he corrected, "was once a human girl. A curse trapped her in this serpent's body."
"A blood curse?" Pandora blurted out.
"What's that?" Patrick and Barty asked in unison, their faces etched with confusion and caution.
"An ancient hereditary blood curse," Snape explained. "A blood-cursed beast is a witch afflicted by a curse in her bloodline. At first, they can control their transformations, but eventually…" He paused, his voice heavy. "Eventually, the curse forces the victim to become an animal permanently, stripping away their humanity."
"Nagini's condition is worsening. Her soul is trapped in this snake's form, and the curse is devouring what's left of her humanity." He lifted his gaze to his companions. "Time is running out. I need your help to search the library for anything that might save her."
Pandora crouched down, meeting Nagini's eyes with a look of pity. "How much time does she have?"
"I'm not sure," Snape said, shaking his head. "It could be days, or maybe longer. But every day, she loses more of her humanity."
"How do you know all this, Severus?" Patrick asked, puzzled. "I mean, she looks like any other snake to me."
"I can understand her," Snape said hesitantly, choosing to reveal the truth. "Parseltongue."
"Come, Nagini." With a soft hiss, Nagini obediently slithered up to his shoulder, resting her head against his neck.
"You're a Parselmouth?" Barty's face lit up with a flicker of excitement. "No wonder you didn't want to join—"
"Ahem," Snape cut him off quickly. "Anyway, Professor Dumbledore knows about this. As my friends, I trust you, but I hope you'll keep this secret."
Pandora nodded first, reaching out toward Nagini but stopping halfway.
"What are we waiting for?" she said, turning toward the library. "If there's anything we can do to help her, we shouldn't waste time."
Patrick and Barty exchanged a glance, then gave a small nod.
"Thank you," Snape said.
In the library, Madam Pince sat alone at the desk by the entrance.
"Studying so early in the morning?" she asked dryly, eyeing them with suspicion.
Snape stepped forward, pulling out the parchment. "We need access to the Restricted Section, Madam. It's approved by the Headmaster."
Madam Pince snatched the slip, squinting at every line as if it might be a forgery. Her lips moved silently as she read.
"'Permits Severus Snape and his designated companions to access any materials in the Restricted Section,'" she read aloud, her tone laced with disapproval. "This is far too broad. Professors usually specify exact titles."
"It bears the Headmaster's signature," Snape pointed out calmly. "You can verify it with Professor Dumbledore yourself."
Madam Pince straightened as if offended. "I will verify it, young man. Wait here." Clutching the parchment, she strode out of the library, her footsteps echoing in the stone corridor.
"She thinks we'd forge the Headmaster's signature?" Patrick rolled his eyes, slumping onto a wooden bench by the borrowing desk.
While they waited, Pandora quietly shared a legend she'd heard from her father. In it, an African witch family had been cursed for generations, their female descendants transforming into white lionesses among a pride.
Finally, Madam Pince returned, out of breath and her face even grimmer than before.
"The Headmaster confirmed it," she said reluctantly. "But any misbehavior, and I'll revoke your privileges immediately."
"Of course, Madam," Snape said with a slight nod.
With a huff, Madam Pince waved them in but didn't return to her desk. Instead, she lingered near the shelves, pretending to dust or rearrange books while keeping a sharp eye on them.
The Restricted Section was dimmer than the rest of the library, as if even sunlight feared the knowledge within. "Split up," Snape whispered. "We need books on blood curses or soul magic."
They dispersed, the only sound the rustle of turning pages.
Snape pulled a heavy black leather book from the shelf: The Shackles of the Soul: On the Symbiosis of Curses. The metal clasp on its spine morphed into a spider, snapping its chelicerae at him. Unfazed, Snape tapped the spine with his wand, and the spider reverted to lifeless metal.
They gathered around a large oak table, each buried in a pile of books.
Snape skimmed the table of contents, finding a chapter on blood curses. His finger traced the yellowed pages, pausing at a passage:
"The peculiarity of a blood curse lies in its deep entanglement with the victim's soul. Counter-curses fail because the curse becomes an inseparable part of the soul…"
"Find anything?" Pandora whispered, struggling to hold down a copy of The Thousand-Year Evolution of Curses that was trying to wriggle free.
Snape shook his head. "Just confirmation of what we already know. The curse is fused with her soul."
"Look at this," Pandora said, pushing her book toward him. "'For such lowly creatures as the cursed, only death can quench the blood curse's wrath.'"
"That means there's no way?" Barty's disappointed voice came from behind his stack of books.
"Keep looking," Snape said softly. They continued, occasionally exchanging quiet findings.
As Snape pondered an obscure passage about souls, he caught a glimpse of a nearly bald head peeking from behind a shelf before quickly disappearing. He looked up just as Professor Slughorn tried to slip away.
"Professor Slughorn?" Snape called softly.
The figure froze, then turned slowly. Professor Slughorn's round face emerged from behind the shelf, dressed today in an emerald-green velvet robe.
"Severus!" he said, feigning composure, though his small eyes darted over the books on the table. "And… er… Mr. Crouch, Mr. Abbott. What a coincidence."
Snape closed his book, showing Slughorn the cover of From the Egyptian Book of the Dead to Modern Necromancy. "Professor, we're researching how to break a blood curse."
"Those aren't exactly bedtime stories, my dear children," Slughorn said with a nervous chuckle. "Carry on, then. I'll be off."
"Sir," Snape called, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "I have a preliminary idea and wanted your advice. Hypothetically—just hypothetically—could that thing you're familiar with, starting with 'H,' absorb a curse from a soul?"
Slughorn glanced around, pulling out an embroidered handkerchief to dab his forehead. "Merlin's beard, Severus, what are you on about…" His voice faltered. "How would you protect the victim's life? Unless you mean to destroy both the curse and the victim—an effective method, I suppose…" He hurried off.
Slughorn's reaction gave Snape a sliver of hope. Theoretically, a Horcrux might work, but the risks were immense. The challenge was controlling the process to preserve Nagini's life while the Horcrux absorbed the curse.
Checking his watch, Snape decided to contact Lucius Malfoy and arrange a meeting. "Keep looking, please," he whispered to his friends. "I have something to attend to."
Leaving the library, Snape climbed the spiral staircase of the West Tower to the Owlery.
The Owlery was a circular stone room, its high windows unglazed, letting cold drafts whistle through. Owls of various breeds perched on the beams, their round eyes watching him.
Snape pulled out a roll of parchment and a small ink bottle from his robes, leaning against the rough stone wall to write.
Dear Lucius,
I hope you're well. I still cherish the memories of our time at school and the kindness you showed me.
Though we've taken different paths, your goodwill shielded me from much of the unfair treatment from other houses during those years.
Perhaps we should meet. Your father, Abraxas Malfoy, is in grave danger. A force at ancient Hogwarts seeks his life. I swear on my life, this is no idle claim.
The matter is too sensitive to detail in a letter. If you're willing, let's meet at the Three Broomsticks in three days at two in the afternoon. I eagerly await your reply…
Snape set down his quill, reviewing his words. If anything could draw Lucius, it was concern for his family's safety.
He rolled the parchment and selected a snowy owl, the fastest among the flock. Tying the letter to its leg with a silk ribbon, he stroked its white feathers. "Wiltshire, Malfoy Manor. Go quickly."
The owl gave a soft hoot, spread its wings, and soared out the window into the sky.
Snape watched it shrink to a white speck against the blue, calculating. It was not yet noon. From the Scottish Highlands to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire was under four hundred miles. At the snowy owl's speed, the letter would arrive within ten hours.
If Lucius agreed, Snape would have a reply by tomorrow afternoon. If not, silence would signal his refusal.
Back in the library, his friends were still deep in their research.
Pandora looked up, her eyes questioning. "Any luck?"
Snape shook his head, picking up The Healing Potential of Stubborn Curses and flipping through it silently.
"Severus?" Barty's voice snapped him back. "Pandora asked if you want to join us for dinner in the Great Hall."
Snape realized it was getting late and closed his book. "I don't think we'll find more today," he said. "Let's go."
In the Great Hall, candlelight flickered, and the four house tables buzzed with students. They chose a quiet corner.
"You don't need to worry," Snape said. "Even if she's stuck as a snake, I'll make sure she isn't used as someone's tool."
His friends looked at him, puzzled, clearly not grasping his meaning.
"Severus," Pandora said hesitantly, "the next Duelling Club is coming up. Are you still up for coaching the younger students?"
"Oh," Snape said, caught off guard. "I nearly forgot. How about…" His gaze shifted to Barty. "You take charge of the next session?"
Barty's eyes widened. "Me? Why? I—"
"You're excellent," Snape interrupted gently. "Your spellwork is precise, and you're more than capable of guiding them. From the moment I met you, I knew you had a teacher's knack. You could tailor your approach to different students, highlight their strengths, and guide them toward their future paths—career choices, for instance."
"Exactly," Patrick chimed in. "Barty, you're better than most seventh-years. Twelve O.W.L.s! I'll make sure everyone knows it."
Barty hesitated, but Snape clapped his shoulder. "The students are straightforward. Just be yourself. Your potential as a teacher is limitless."
The next afternoon, Snape leaned against an old oak at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, watching Nagini glide comfortably through the grass.
Bored, he raised his wand and murmured, "Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery python surged from his wand tip, slithering playfully around Nagini.
Nagini raised her head, her green eyes studying the Patronus, so like yet unlike her.
"Close enough to call it a white snake," Snape hissed in Parseltongue. "Let me tell you an Eastern tale…"
When the story ended, he said softly, "See, others transform from snakes to humans. How did you end up going the other way?"
Nagini rested her head gently on his leg. Snape wasn't sure how much she understood, but he cherished the moment—the sunlight, the shade, the silver Patronus, and the green snake.
As the sun sank and the Forbidden Forest's shadows lengthened, he glanced at the sky. No owls. It seemed Lucius wasn't coming.
————
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