The Talisman of Monguk

Chapter 20: The Dark Mark

After the May Ball, Snape and Ravena's relationship changed dramatically. Snape was often seen strolling around the Hogwarts grounds with Ravena on his arm, engaged in pleasant conversation. Ravena even consulted with him about her lesson plans. But perhaps the most shocking change of all was when she sat beside him in the Slytherin stands for the last Quidditch match of the year. However, this new affinity for one another did not eliminate their arguments entirely.

In her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Ravena planned to hold a little dueling tournament for her sixth and seventh year students. The two students with the highest marks in each class were entered into the contest. The event was to be held in the Great Hall on the following Saturday afternoon.

In her sixth-year class, Harry Potter was the best student and easily secured the first slot. Draco Malfoy had worked very hard, spurred by his natural curiosity for the Dark Arts and his infatuation with the instructor. He had improved so dramatically that Ravena, in all fairness, had no choice but to grant him the challenger's slot. But Harry and Draco detested each other.

From the moment that she announced the tournament, things began to go wrong. The Slytherins would do anything to eliminate Harry from the competition. Several times during the week, Ravena caught Malfoy and his friends loitering in unexpected places under very suspicious circumstances. She surmised that these were attempts to ambush or hex Harry.

The situation came to a head in Snape's potions class on Friday morning. Snape caught Harry trying to curse Malfoy in retaliation. The Potions Master, of course, was furious and assigned Harry detention for the very day of the tournament. When she found out what he had done, Ravena was incensed. She marched down to Snape's dungeons and pounded on his door.

"Severus," she snapped. "I know you're in there. I must speak with you."

"Come in, Ravena," answered Snape with a sigh of resignation.

She opened the door and found him at his desk, mixing a potion. A textbook lay open on the table along with a cauldron full of a viscous, green, bubbling substance. Surrounding the cauldron were dozens of small phials of ingredients. Snape was absorbed in his work. His dark eyes glanced up at her with an impatient look.

"Sorry, but this is a very delicate potion," he replied. "Not the best time for a discussion. Perhaps later."

"Fine!" she spat with a glare. "Then I'll be brief. You can't give Harry detention on Saturday afternoon. You know full well that's the date of my tournament. He has earned the right to participate."

"Potter forfeited that right when he hexed Draco Malfoy outside my classroom," Snape answered.

His eyes traveled from her angry stare back to his cauldron. His fingers grasped one of the phials and dripped a few drops into the kettle. The contents of the pot hissed and bubbled. Ravena eyed the cauldron with indifference and leaned over the table toward Snape.

"For your information," she insisted, through clenched teeth. "Mr. Malfoy is not entirely innocent in this matter. I have personally witnessed several attempts by Draco and his companions to curse Harry."

"Did you see anyone actually curse Potter?" Snape inquired without looking up from his work.

"Well, no," she answered, getting flustered. "But the circumstances were very suspicious. Don't you think it's rather odd to find two Slytherins skulking behind a suit of armor right outside the Dark Arts classroom?"

Snape glanced over at her, cocking one eyebrow. "Are you certain that Potter was their intended target, if that is what they were up to in the first place?"

"Harry and I were the only ones left in the room," she argued. "I very much doubt that a student of this school would attack a teacher."

Snape raised his eyebrows and paused, thinking. "Perhaps they were loitering in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"With their wands drawn?" she countered, raising her voice. "I assure you, Severus, I know skullduggery when I see it. Those boys were up to no good."

"Well," Snape replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, "you cannot expect me to understand what goes on in the minds of these students."

"Severus, you are exasperating!" Ravena said, her blue eyes flashing. "I know that you are partial to your own students, but I will not permit you to interfere with my tournament." Her fist balled up and she pounded on his desk. "If you must give Harry detention, then I ask you to please do it on another day."

On the last word, her fist hammered the desk so vehemently that the table shook. Some of the potion spattered out of the cauldron. A large dollop landed on Snape's left sleeve with an angry hiss. The substance burned a hole right through his robes, down to his skin. Snape jumped to his feet with a yelp of surprise and stood there glaring at her, rubbing his arm. Ravena's eyes opened wide with alarm. Her anger quickly dissipated, replaced by regret.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she stuttered. "Are you all right?"

"Fine!" he spat, still rubbing his arm and holding it protectively.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Let me see."

Before he could react, she grabbed his hand and pulled up his sleeve to look at the burn on his left forearm. What she saw there shocked her even more. On his forearm, next to the potion burn, was another burn mark in the shape of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. Ravena's eyes opened very wide and her mouth slackened. Horrified at the discovery, she dropped his arm and recoiled from him. She backed away against the wall as far from him as possible.

"The Dark Mark!" she cried, not wanting to believe it. "You're one of his followers?"

Snape pulled his sleeve back over the mark and walked around the desk toward her. His dark eyes suddenly warmed. His face wore a look of concern.

"Look," he urged, "I can explain."

"No!" she insisted, her voice shaking with emotion. "Stay where you are! I won't listen to lies!"

She turned and fled room. She ran down the corridor, sobbing and half-blinded by her tears. Snape raced after her, but halted at his doorway. He watched her disappear around the corner with a look of despair on his face.

The potion in the cauldron hissed. He spun around, his eyes now focused on the kettle. His face contorted with anger and frustration, as the liquid turned a vibrant shade of orange. A stream of curses escaped his lips. He threw the potions book against the wall, knocking several glass jars off of his shelves. They smashed on the floor with a deafening crash.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Ravena did not appear at dinner that evening. She cancelled the tournament for the next day, claiming that she felt ill. The students groaned with disappointment, when Headmaster Dumbledore made the announcement for her. All through dinner, Snape kept glancing over at her empty seat at the High Table. When she did not appear for breakfast or lunch the next day, he became concerned. By dinnertime, he resolved to speak with her. So after dinner, he strode to her office and knocked on her door.

"Yes?" came the half-hearted reply from inside.

He entered and shut the door behind him. He found Ravena seated at her desk, grading papers. Her untouched dinner sat on the desk next to her. Her usually neat hair was unkempt and she wore a silk dressing gown, instead of her usual robes. She did not look up from her work.

"Ravena," Snape began, "I must speak with you."

"There is nothing to say," Ravena replied, staring down at her desk. "Please leave."

"But you must hear me out."

She looked up at him, noticing the warmth in his dark eyes and the earnest expression on his face. Her own eyes were red and puffy, as if she'd been crying.

"There is nothing you could say that would change what I saw," she stated. "Now leave me alone."

"No!" Snape insisted. His voice was calm, but firm. "I will not leave until you hear what I have to say."

"You're wasting your breath. Now, get out!" she demanded, rising to her feet and pulling out her wand.

Snape faced her, looking her straight in the eye. He did not draw his own wand or show resistance of any kind. "Go ahead. I am unarmed. I will not fight back."

Ravena clenched her fist around the wand and stuffed it roughly back in her pocket. Then she marched to the door, jerked it opened, and held it for him. Her finger jabbed at him and then pointed out into the corridor.

"Severus, for the last time," she spat, enunciating every syllable. "Get out!"

Snape walked toward her. Instead of leaving, he shut the door with a bang and pulled her into an embrace. She gasped with surprise. She struggled in his arms, pushing him away and pounding his chest with her fist. He clasped her squirming body securely to his chest. She could not pull herself free.

"You must know that I have feelings for you," he insisted with a hardened look of resolve. "I will not leave until you know the truth. Look at me!"

She stopped fighting. Her arms went limp, but her teeth were still clenched. She lifted her head to look into his face in reluctant surrender to his demands. His black eyes bored into hers, as tears filled her eyes.

"I know that you hate the Dark Arts," he urged. "You must believe me when I tell you that I do as well. Yes, it is true that I was a Death Eater once. Yes, I was a follower of the Dark Lord, but that was fifteen years ago. I turned my back on the Dark ways then and I have never gone back."

Her eyes searched his, looking for a reason to trust him. "I want to believe you," she whispered, "but I can't."

"I expected as much," he replied. "I can offer you proof. Come with me."

Snape grasped Ravena by the hand. He turned and dragged her out of her office through the corridors of Hogwarts and down to the dungeons. Snape's feet moved with quick determined steps, his black robes billowing behind him. He pulled Ravena, with her tear-stained cheeks, along in his wake. To anyone watching, the scene would have looked quite sinister, but the halls were deserted.

He took her into his office and motioned for her to sit down in a chair facing his desk. The office door clicked shut behind her, as she approached the chair and numbly sat. Then he lifted a shallow stone basin down from the shelves and placed it on the desk in front of her. She glanced at the strange object and then looked up at Snape with a quizzical stare.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It's a Pensieve, I believe, a place to store thoughts and memories."

"Precisely."

"These are very rare," she said, casting him an inquisitive look. "How did you get it?"

"It belongs to the Headmaster," Snape replied with an impatient wave. "I borrowed it for the occasion. Can we please get on with it?" He shot her a withering glare.

She stared back at him, her blue eyes turning to watery pools.

When he saw the tears, his angry expression melted into one of regret. "Please?" he added in a more conciliatory tone.

Then he took out his wand and touched its tip to his temple. When he pulled the wand from his forehead, a long gossamer strand came away attached to it. He deposited the thread into the Pensieve with his wand and gave the contents of the basin a stir. The silvery substance in the Pensieve swirled.

Then Snape gazed over the desk at Ravena and, without explanation, commanded, "Look!"

Ravena edged her chair closer to the desk and leaned over the Pensieve. As she peered into the bowl, she felt herself being pulled down into it. She floated down through the white mist and landed on the grounds of Hogwarts.

It was twilight on a summer's eve. The grounds were still and quiet. She saw a young man in a black cloak walking up to the castle. His black eyes darted furtively around. He looked directly at her, but did not appear to see her. She gasped. She scrambled to her feet and followed him into the castle. He walked straight toward the Headmaster's office and whispered to the gargoyle guarding the door.

"Severus Snape to see the Headmaster. He is expecting me."

The gargoyle let him pass. Snape strode up the stairs to the office, casting nervous glances over his shoulder, as if he was being watched. Ravena ascended the stairs behind him. He knocked on the office door and entered. Ravena crept into the office after him and positioned herself against the wall where she could see both men's faces. She was not at all surprised that no one acknowledged her presence, understanding that she was just an unseen witness to another's memory. She watched.

Dumbledore, who stood behind his desk, greeted Snape and offered him a seat. The headmaster sat down with his elbows resting on the tabletop, peering at Snape over his fingertips. Snape remained standing.

"Severus, what can I do for you?" asked Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, I have come to you for help," Snape said. "I...I have made a terrible mistake. I have joined the service of the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore's thick white eyebrows lifted momentarily and then returned to their resting position.

"I see," replied Dumbledore, surveying him calmly.

"My father is a hard man," Snape explained. "My mother, the only one to ever show me affection, is dead. I held him responsible for her death. In my foolishness, I turned to the Dark Lord. He offered me acceptance and a means to avenge my anger and grief." He swallowed hard and continued full of self-reproach, "I was mistaken in him. I had merely traded one tyrant for another. I cannot serve him any longer. Although nothing can atone for the evils that I have wrought in his service."

Dumbledore studied Snape's face over his half-moon spectacles. His piecing blue eyes bored into the young man's. Snape met the gaze with unflinching courage. A sob escaped from Ravena's lips. Her eyes remained riveted on Snape's face.

"I want to leave his service," Snape continued, "but, as you know, you cannot just walk away from the Dark Lord. I will be killed, if you do not help me. You are the only one that the Dark Lord fears. You have been more of a father to me than my own. I throw myself at your mercy."

Snape dropped to his knees before the headmaster. His head bowed to his chest. Ravena now studied the headmaster's reaction. Dumbledore surveyed Snape without expression, his hand stroking his snowy white beard.

"How do I know that you have truly repented?" Dumbledore asked.

"I knew that you would want proof, so I offer you valuable information," Snape replied, now meeting Dumbledore's gaze. "The Dark Lord has heard of a prophecy that a child has been born with power equal to his own. He intends to hunt down and kill this child. He believes the child to be Potter's son." His face contorted with hatred at the mention of the name.

Dumbledore stared at him with his penetrating blue eyes. His elbows rested on the desk again, his fingertips drumming. Ravena looked from man to man, not knowing which to watch. Then Dumbledore leaned back in his chair.

"Severus," he said. "I believe you and will give you what protection I can. You may stay. I offer you a post on the faculty of Hogwarts. Voldemort cannot touch you here."

"Thank you, sir," said Snape with a sigh of relief. He rose to his feet.

"However, there are three conditions," Dumbledore explained. "First, you will take whatever post I offer, even if it is not of your choosing."

"Agreed."

"The second is more difficult," Dumbledore said. "You will tell your fellow Death Eaters that you are here at Hogwarts spying on me for Voldemort. In reality, you will spy on them for me. Can you do this?"

"Yes, sir," Snape replied.

A troubled look flickered across Snape's face, but then melted into one of grim determination. Ravena gasped. Her eyes opened wide with astonishment at the revelation. The man she loved was a spy. Had he really turned from his past? Perhaps this was just another deception. Could he be trusted?

"Third, you must renounce the Dark Arts," Dumbledore concluded.

This time Snape hesitated. "But that has been my life's work...my life's study," he protested.

Snape stared at the Headmaster. His mouth opened to argue further. But Dumbledore's blue eyes took on a steely glint, indicating that the condition was not negotiable. Snape's mouth closed with a snap. Ravena's eyes remained fixed on him, studying his every move.

"I renounce them," Snape replied, dropping his gaze.

"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore replied, an odd twinkle in his eyes. "Then it is settled."

"I understand that the Defense Against the Dark Arts post is available," Snape ventured. He glanced at the headmaster, his black eyes glistening. "If I may, I have considerable expertise in this area."

"You may apply for any post that you wish," Dumbledore answered. "But I appoint you to the position of Potions Master."

Snape's jaw dropped open. His dark eyes met Dumbledore's with a beseeching look this time.

"Would it not be a better use of my talents in the Dark Arts to teach students defenses against them?" he argued. "What better way to prove that I have truly renounced them?"

"I must ask you to trust my judgment in this matter," Dumbledore answered with a kind but firm expression.

Snape's face fell. His hand stroked his chin. Then he looked over at Dumbledore.

"As you wish, sir," Snape replied, inclining his head in a slight bow. "Thank you, sir."

Ravena felt a hand on her shoulder. Startled, her head jerked to see who had joined her. The Snape that she knew now stood at her side. His hand pulled her up, back out through the mist. The fog lifted and she found herself back in his dungeon office. He stood over her with his hand still on her shoulder.

"So, now, do you believe me?" he asked hopefully.

"I...I need some time," Ravena answered.

She rose to her feet and walked out of the room as if in a trance. She was lost in thought, contemplating all that she had seen. Snape did not attempt to stop her, but merely stood there miserably, watching her go.