The Founders' Legacy

Snape reacted immediately. Wand drawn, he rushed inside, ready to fight whatever was there. The woman was standing in front of the sink, wrapped in a towel, a strange thing pointed at her head.

She dropped the thing, clutching the towel to her, Snape noticed in horror, naked body and the roaring stopped.

"Get out! Out! How dare you...you PERVERT!" she screamed like a mad banshee, blindly grabbing things and throwing them at him. Snape made a hasty retread. Leaning his back against the door outside he vowed to leave anything in the future dealing with Muggles, especially female Muggles, to Dumbledore.

Shaking with anger Sophie picked up the hairdryer again. The nerve of that man!

When she finally left the bathroom, wearing an enormous white bathrobe, she brushed past the wizard, ignoring him completely and poured herself a mug of coffee, before retreating into the bedroom to get dressed.

Abra wouldn't mind if she borrowed some clothes. In the bathroom, she had removed the bandages from her arm. The wound had closed up, only leaving an angry red scar criss-crossing up her entire right arm.

Snape had resumed his pacing. He was mortified. Why did he have to burst in? Why didn't he at least knock?

Things had been bad enough, but now she would probably stop to co-operate. Maybe he should apologise? Snape hated apologising and from his judgement, Miss Beresford wouldn't make it easy. She would get a kick from seeing him grovel. The source of his troubles returned and she poured herself some more coffee. Like most wizards, Snape wasn't really familiar with Muggle attire, but in his opinion her blue dress was too short. It was sleeveless, revealing the scar on her right arm. Snape studied it for a moment. It wasn't lightning-shaped, like Potter's. More like a snake, it started in mid-forearm and wound itself up to her shoulder.

She could feel his eyes on her scar. Maybe I shouldn't be to hard on him. He IS an annoying bastard, but he's the bastard who saved my arse. She decided to forgive and forget about the bathroom incident.

"Professor Snape, I think it's time you do something about YOUR appearance. Or do you want to be seen in public dressed like this?" Sophie asked innocently and pointed at his billowing robes. He paled slightly. Then he tapped his wand to his clothes and murmured something incomprehensible. The fabric came alive, moving, changing it's shape. When the transformation was completed, the wizard was dressed in a black suit.

"Do I pass inspection?" he sneered.

"Better change the colour of your shirt. Black suit, black shirt ... add a white tie and you'd look like a Mafioso."

Snape raised his eyebrows.

"Italian criminal."

He changed the shirt to white.

Sophie nodded. "That's better. I suppose there is nothing you could do about your hair?"

"What's wrong with my hair?" he bristled. "I have seen Muggles with longer hair than mine, it's perfectly acceptable."

"It's not the length. It's just...you could maybe wash it more often." If looks could kill... . She quickly dropped the subject. "Let's go."

It was already pretty warm outside as they made the short walk to the Museum.

"I hope you thought up a cover story for your friend. I'm sure there will be some questions, especially if she finds out about her flat," Snape remarked.

"I've been thinking about this all morning and I worked something out. Abra can be terribly nosy, so it's better for you to stay quiet and let me do the talking. And for the time being you'll be just "Mr Snape", otherwise someone might inquire about your field of study."

They had reached the main entrance. The galleries wouldn't be open for another hour, but already tourists were sitting on the front steps and circling the Great Court. Sophie walked past the Reading Room and headed straight for a door labelled "Staff only". Snape followed her reluctantly, expecting to be held up and questioned by an employee any minute. She led him up the stairs and through a maze of corridors until she finally stopped in front of a door bearing the letters "Prints & Drawings".

"How do you know this place so well?" Snape asked in low voice.

"I used to work here until I got sacked two years ago."

Back then the department got a new chief and while Abra had managed to get along with the change in regime, Sophie had rapidly fallen from grace.

Abra squealed in delight and launched herself at Sophie, hugging her and placing a kiss on each of her cheeks. Over her friend's shoulder, Sophie could see Snape roll his eyes.

"Oh my god, Sophie! I never expected you to visit when I called you. Now, this is a real surprise, when did you arrive?" Abra gushed. Her professional clothes and hair, twisted in an elegant up-do were a stark contrast to her teenage girl behaviour.

"Yesterday evening. I tried to call you in advance, but couldn't reach you," Sophie said.

"Oh, that's because I've been spending a lot of time with Robert. He is such a darling. To be honest, we are thinking about living together, some guys from the Asian department are interested in taking over the flat... ." She trailed off, finally noticing Snape. Before she had a chance to ask, Sophie launched into her story.

"Abra, I'm sorry. I got myself into quite a mess and, too some extent, you too. That parchment I asked you to check ... well, I found out it's stolen property. Mr Snape here, is a security consultant, hired by the owner, a private collector, to find it and bring it back. Apparently, the thieves concealed it in a book, to get it out of the country and it ended up in my hands by accident. Somehow they found out I passed it on to you, so they broke into your flat."

"Did they take anything?"

"As far as I could see, no, but they turned everything upside-down."

"Did you call the police?"

"No; Mr Snape thinks they would never catch them, since the thieves are foreigners."

Abra shrugged, taking the news better than Sophie had expected.

"Well, as long as nothing's stolen; I need to pack up my things anyway."

"I'll help you of course," Sophie offered.

"Na, it's ok, Robert will help me, don't worry. But what's really puzzling me; I've checked this parchment and I must say, it's interesting, but didn't strike me as valuable. The ink and parchment are from the 17th century, but the language is much older, almost classic Latin, except for that coded part. I showed it to someone from the language department, but it didn't make any sense to him."

"For some people this parchment is of great personal value," Snape said sharply.

Abra was slightly taken aback by his tone.

"I'm sorry Mr Snape, I was speaking strictly from the historical point of view. I'm sure some more eccentric collectors would probably kill for it." She opened a drawer and handed him the parchment in a thin plastic envelope. He put it in his suit pocket and turned to the door, looking back at Sophie.

"Miss Beresford?"

"You're not staying?" Abra asked disappointed. "I thought we could go for lunch together and you didn't tell me what happened to your arm... ."

"Maybe next time. Mr Snape's employer promised to show me his collection." Sophie gave her friend a quick hug. "You know this stuff is my hobby and I don't want to miss an opportunity like that."

Abra hastily scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Sophie.

"Robert's number," she said, winking.

***

Michael Avery was back at the main desk, again facing the snobby receptionist.

"Mr ... Avery? I'll call Miss Harrington to come down for you," she said and picked up the phone.

While Michael waited, he let his gaze wander around over the Muggle crowds. A glimpse of flaming red hair at the back of the hall caught his attention. Two people, a tall man and a woman, were heading in his direction.

Even dressed in a hideous Muggle outfit, Michael recognised Snape immediately and the women ... red hair, glasses ... they got closer and he could see a huge red scar on her arm. No doubt, it was that Muggle librarian.

So she did survive the curse. But how did Snape fit into the picture? Michael left the main desk without comment, hearing the receptionist mutter something disapproving about his manners.

***

Everything was running smoothly. He would return the Muggle to her friend's flat, perform a memory charm on her and take the parchment back to Dumbledore. Snape stopped dead in his tracks. Avery! He was dressed in Muggle clothes and quickly moving towards them, sometimes pushing people aside. Snape grabbed Miss Beresford's arm.

"Is there another way out?" he asked.

She looked confused. "There's an exit to Montague Place behind us."

Snape turned and started to run, dragging her along. People were giving them strange looks, but he didn't care. Outside he turned left and didn't slow down until they were on a busy street.

"Would you mind telling me what's going on?" she asked, out of breath. Snape carefully scanned the crowed.

"One of the Dark Lord's men. He saw us, but I think we managed to shake him off."

They were back at Abra's flat and Snape had his wand out, frantically putting up shielding spells. Sophie was torn between fear and curiosity. After all, it was just one man and it wasn't even sure he followed them. She was shaken from her musings, when Snape took his broom. In the middle of all the chaos she hadn't really noticed it until now.

"I'm sorry Miss Beresford, but from now on you'll be on your own," he said.

"What do you mean, you're not leaving me here, now that this madman could show up any minute?"

Snape smiled thinly and pointed his wand to her head.

Someone banged on the door.

"Shit," Snape muttered.

The door flew open. Michael Avery was standing there, smiling cruelly.

"You're not planning on leaving so soon, Severus?" he asked. "There are some matters we have to discuss... ." He tried to get inside, but a flash of light stopped him on the threshold.

Avery was amused. "You really think your little shielding spell will stop me?"

There was only one way of escape. Snape mounted his broom.

"Miss Beresford, if you want to get out of here get up."

Like on auto-pilot, Sophie got on the broom behind Snape. She had an idea of what he was planning and didn't really like it, but there seemed to be no other way.

"Hold on," Snape said and she grabbed him tightly around the middle.

Avery had his wand out and tried to get through the shielding on the door, when Snape kicked of the ground and burst through the window. Broken glass was raining to the floor and then they where up in the air and on the street. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut. She was flying! On a broom! Her stomach was churning.

Snape could hardly believe himself what he had done. He was flying in the middle of Muggle London. If the Ministry will ever find out... . The Muggle was holding on to him for dear life. He would probably have the imprints of her fingers on his torso for weeks. Gaining height and speed, he tried to get away from the city as fast as possible. Somewhere over Piccadilly Circus Snape heard a whooshing sound behind them and looked back. Avery and another Death Eater were after them, closing the distance fast. Praying that the Ministry would never identify him, Snape veered downwards, right into the traffic. The woman behind him squealed and tightened her grip.

"What the hell is he trying?" Michael called over the rushing wind. Goyle had a hard time to keep up with him. "I'll take the right, you go left. Maybe we can block him."

They split up and tried to manoeuvre their brooms so they could close in on Snape from both sides.

Snape saw them getting closer. Avery was nearly flying next to him and when he looked to his left side, the other Death Eater wasn't far behind. Underneath them, on the street, he spotted two busses, driving towards each other in opposite directions. The gap between them would be small, but maybe he would make it.

Sophie had risked to open her eyes when she felt the broom going into another dive, but immediately screwed them shut again. Snape was flying close to the ground, weaving through the traffic. They were heading straight for a bus. She could hear car horns and people screaming. She started to repeat "We will not die" in her head like a mantra.

There was a loud crash behind them and for a moment she thought they didn't make it, but then the broom turned sharply and moved up again.

Michael cursed. Who would have thought that a mediocre Quidditch player like Snape possessed such flying skill? Without hesitation he had flown through the gap and Avery had barley managed to avoid a collision. Goyle hadn't been this lucky. His reaction had been to slow and he had grazed the bus, causing him to loose control and crash. Michael hovered over the ground and dragged the unconscious body of his companion on his broom. A huge crowd of Muggles had gathered and watched murmuring as he speed away - so much for discretion.

They were flying steady now and Sophie finally dared to look again. Still high in the air, she could see the motorway below, the cars only small, moving dots. She hastily returned her attention to the greasy wisps of black hair the wind was blowing in her face.

"Where are we going now?" she asked.

"To a place someone like you would normally never see."

Snape was heading north. The sun was rising, it was probably noon, but Snape showed no intention of taking a break. Sophie was tiered and she leaned her head on his back, but she didn't dare to close her eyes. What if she fell asleep and lost her grip?

The hours seemed to stretch endlessly, her arms were starting to cramp and she really needed to go to the bathroom. After some pleading Snape finally landed in the middle of nowhere and waited impatiently while she scampered behind some bushes. As soon as she was back it was up and away again.

The landscape below changed and there were fewer and fewer cities visible until finally, in the fading daylight, the huge ruin of a castle came into view.