Darkly Bound

Darkly Bound

Prologue

The following narrative is a diary. 'Diary' is an unfashionable term these days, being thought to describe the foolish scribbles of a schoolgirl, you may prefer to think of it as a journal. Be that as it may, it remains true to form a diary. Like most diaries, its subject matter ranges from the mundane to the fantastical, and consists of a hodgepodge of stories and emotions, recorded during periods of moods ranging from elation to desolation

It will be up to you, the reader to determine how far you wish to delve into the private writings of the diarist. You may be the sort who cringes to discover you are eavesdropping when deeply held secrets are revealed by one unaware of your presence. Conversely, you may (as I suspect since you are here, after all) be the sort who would seek out the darkest corner in which to hide, or the finest glass to place against the wall at the slightest hint that confidences may be exchanged in the next room. If that is so, read on.

An introduction is in order, I think. A brief curriculum vitae of your subject. After all, it's no good knowing where our subject is taking us if we don't know where she came from.

Her name is Melpomene Claros and she has, when we enter her tale, been recently appointed head of Divination Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That in itself may not sound all that very interesting, except for the fact that she has traveled across the ocean to accept the position.

Perhaps it's time we let her speak for herself.

*

My qualifications include a B.S. in Spells and Enchantments from the Old Salem Academy of Magical Studies, a MFA in Applied Thaumatics from the New World Institute for Advancement of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and a Ph.D. in the Histories of World Oracles from the same. If you are at all interested, my wand is of Rowan wood and contains a whisker from a Cheshire cat. I keep it twisted in an unruly twist of hair at the nape of my neck, held in place with a binding spell--so much easier to reach in a hurry than searching through robe pockets or fishing around in sleeves.

But let me tell you about myself before my arrival at Hogwarts.

It is a little known fact that during the time that Voldemort wreaked havoc across Britain, his poison also spread across the ocean to the community of witches and wizards on the North American continent. The American community was still young in comparison to our cousins overseas. Our founders had faced a terrible history and we have still not succeeded in finding the balance of co-existence that your own ministry of magic has managed to establish between the wizarding and Muggle worlds. It took very little to shake us to our very foundations and those dark years did more damage to the American wizarding world than all the witch hunts of previous centuries combined.

It was discovered that I had a talent for telepathy which proved valuable in seeking out and convicting betrayers and spies. I established a reputation that took me to the top of my field and brought me some notoriety. But I was very young to be placed in such a position and had experienced some personal trauma before beginning this new career. My instructors worried about my mental state. The emotional toll was devastating. Prying into the thoughts of unwilling subjects went against all my instincts as well as everything I had been taught about the arts of magic and divination. I took with me a part of every subject's psyche. My own subconscious was becoming confused and having great difficulty dispersing the negative, criminal images my work was forcing me to take in.

Then suddenly, it was over. We heard the stories but the sense of utter disbelief remained. How could such a malignant evil just be snuffed out like a candle? Some thought it was a trick; others called it a miracle. All I knew was that it was gone. It was as if a veil had been lifted. It was as if our smoking lamps had all had their wicks trimmed. Our flames were burning brightly. I retreated, with great relief, to the university and returned to my studies. The quiet world of academia suited me and gave me a chance to settle the turmoil in my mind. There I stayed until one day I was asked to consider a new position.

A new department was being set up at the Institute that would specialize in, for lack of a better word, forensics. This agency would be in charge of investigating anomalies such as reports of heretofore unknown creatures, locating missing persons, authenticating oracles, investigating reports of the interference with Muggles, and other miscellaneous items that were of great interest, but didn't seem to fit into any other department at the Institute. This position seemed to me to be a good way to use my skills without coming into unnecessary contact with great numbers of people with whom I'd have to share thoughts. I accepted the job on the spot.

I spent several years as an investigator at the Institute and soon found the favorite part of my job was to go out into Muggle society and seek out those who had shown some magical talent. Some of these people were indeed witches or wizards who had been born to Muggles and had simply been considered eccentric but most were Muggles who, for whatever reason, had been given a magical gift. My job was to find, and encourage these people to continue to practice and develop these talents. I worked with Muggle doctors who were true healers. I worked with telepaths and empaths, who drew troubled souls to them and were able to soothe troubled minds. I worked with Muggle actors---transfigurists of the highest order, and with artisans who could with their bare hands, or so it would seem to the untrained eye, turn a lump of inert material into a thing of beauty. It was this path that lead me to teaching. It was teaching that, as I was led to believe, brought me to England, and to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

1.

I arrived at Hogwarts with some apprehension. I had been invited to spend a year at the British school of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a visiting professor of Divination, but I knew that my previous experience as an investigator with the Institute and my history with the tribunals at Salem were part of my being selected for this position. After all, Hogwarts was the at the heart of everything that had happened all those years ago, and now it seemed there was reason to believe there was trouble brewing there again. I stood uneasily outside Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office for what seemed like hours. Finally I heard footsteps approaching. The Headmaster, accompanied by a stern looking woman swept toward me.

"Ah Miss Claros! You've arrived. I trust your journey was a safe one?"

"Yes, thank you," I answered as I took them both in. Every witch and wizard knows of Albus Dumbledore, but to see him in person is quite another thing altogether. He was strikingly tall and thin, and seemed at first glance to be nothing more than a pair of sparkling blue eyes smiling out from behind lots of long white hair. His face did eventually take shape from behind his flowing beard and mustache, but he resembled nothing more than a picture in a child's book of fairy tales. His appearance was misleading, but served to put me at ease, even knowing that behind his smiling countenance was one of the most powerful wizards of our time.

His companion was petite, and rather severe looking witch who wore her hair pulled back in a tight bun and her robes buttoned so far up her throat that I felt like I was choking. She peered at me over the tops of half-moon glasses.

"Oh where are my manners? Miss. Claros, this is my Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. It was she who suggested we invite you here."

I didn't need to see the sharp look Professor McGonagall threw at the Headmaster to know that was most certainly not true. "Please step into my office, both of you," he continued. "I'm sure Miss Claros is in need of a nice cup of tea."

Professor McGonagall turned sharply and swept into the open door that had suddenly appeared in the wall near where I had been standing. "Minerva, you'll be 'mother', won't you?" His blue eyes positively danced under the bushy white brows.

"Now Miss Claros," said Dumbledore as McGonagall clattered the tea things rather roughly, "we need to discuss why you are here".

"Well," I wasn't sure quite how to start, "I know there is an opening for a teacher of Divination."

"Yes, your predecessor was, shall we say, not quite up to the pressure of her position."

He was interrupted by a laugh from Professor McGonagall. "Oh Albus, just tell the poor girl the truth! The woman was a fraud! She could no more--"

"Minerva, I will not have any of my staff spoken of in such a manner." He turned to me again "It is true though, Professor Trelawney was not really suited to teach. She was quite sensitive. Perhaps too sensitive. We agreed that it would be better if she left the school for a while. She's having a rest cure at the moment. I've had a letter from her. She's feeling much better now."

"Much better?" I looked from Dumbledore to McGonagall. "Excuse me? Was she ill? Did something happen to her?" Normally I could sense deception but got nothing of the sort from either of these two. McGonagall wasn't happy with my presence, that was clear but one didn't need to be a telepath to know that. Dumbledore could hide anything from anybody but I had no reason to believe he even had anything to hide from me.

"No, not ill. She just needed a holiday. When we finally convinced her to leave her tower classroom and go visit the grandchildren she couldn't wait to go." He smiled and passed me a plate of cakes. "We saw the vacancy as the perfect opportunity to bring in someone new for a little change. Someone like you."

"Someone like me? Surely, Headmaster there are plenty of teachers locally who could have taken over the Divination department"

"There are."

"And so?

"Yes?"

"I"m not here to teach?"

"You are here to teach. But you do have other talents. I've followed your career since Salem."

I sat back heavily. "The tribunals."

"And your career since then. You've made quite a name for yourself as an investigator. You're a natural Auror".

"I'm a fortune-teller and librarian. Someone's given you a very much embroidered account of my career." I knew that was a mistake before it even left my mouth.

"Then why are you here?" The blue eyes had lost their sparkle. "You knew this was not just a teaching post. You said it yourself, there are plenty of teachers I could have hired if I was just looking for someone to teach 'fortune-telling'."

"But Aurors! The Ministry of Magic has some of the best Aurors in the world! Real trained Aurors."

If Dumbledore was becoming angry he was slow to show it. He'd become serious and Professor McGonagall had gone completely mute. "I won't have Ministry bureaucrats crawling all over this school again. They tried that once and it was an absolute disaster. I chose you for several reasons. One of those reasons is because you are from so far away. You are unknown here. Believe me, Miss Claros, that will serve you well. Another reason is that you have the skills and the experience that I need. You don't believe me. I know that. You will simply need to trust me on this. I have followed your career. I have spoken with every teacher, professor and advisor you have had since childhood. I have reviewed every case you have worked on. I know you can do this."

I was speechless. I felt like an utter fool. What had I expected? I had walked right in to this with my eyes open. The only thing I could do now was see it through. I cleared my throat. "Yes, sir." It was feeble, but it did the trick.

"Wonderful!" The eyes sparkled again. "More tea, Minerva! Now, I've set you up with rooms in Ravenclaw tower, you'll fit in well there. I'll have the head girl come get you shortly and show you there. There are only one or two things left to discuss. The first, your class schedule. It will be a light one."

"No," I interrupted, "I don't want special treatment. I can handle a full class schedule. I should be able to teach the same classes that Professor Trelawney taught."

I was interrupted by a short laugh from Professor McGonagall "She's absolutely right, Albus, she should have no difficulty at all keeping up with THAT level of instruction!" She poured herself another cup of tea. I didn't know anything at all about my predecessor, but I did find myself beginning to like the Deputy Headmistress.

"Alright, alright," said Dumbledore. "There is time to discuss your class schedule in a day or two. One other thing I need to discuss with you is a certain member of the faculty with whom you may find yourself working closely with. He has a history not unlike your own and has been of great service to me in these matters in the past."

Dumbledore reached across the table, took my left hand in his and pointed to a spot in the center of his office. A figure began to materialize there. "Our Potions Master, Severus Snape." As the apparition became clearer. I looked over at Professor McGonagall. She was watching me and it was clear she did not see the image in the center of the room.

It was tall, and thin like Dumbledore. He was an imposing figure, robed entirely in black. He seemed to be of no determinate age. His skin was so white he looked cadaverous. Glittering black eyes glared out from under long black hair.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, but quickly recovered, "Sorry."

Dumbledore grinned, "Yes, he can have that effect on people."

"It's all that skulking around in dungeons!" McGonagall said, "If you ask me, it's Severus Snape who needs a holiday! Although," she sighed and brushed an invisible crumb off her robes, "he'd probably just spend a fortnight at Castle Dacul or some other ghastly place."

I laughed out loud and looked over at the dark figure. He certainly didn't look like the sort who'd enjoy a picnic.

"He's been like that since he was a boy," McGonagall continued, "I still don't know if he's just morose by nature or just has a flare for being overly dramatic."

"Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted her, "would you be so kind as to go and see if Professor Claros' rooms are ready yet?

The Deputy Headmistress, gently chastened, straightened her robes and extended her hand. "Welcome, Miss Claros. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Once she was gone, Dumbledore began again. "I'm only telling you this so you have some background. What you need to know about Professor Snape is that when he was a student here he found himself in a situation that would have, in fact did, kill others who found themselves in the same place. He was a student here while Voldemort was first becoming powerful. He found himself in a most extraordinary situation."

As he spoke I watched the image. The air around it seemed to shimmer and was clear, but it also had a tinge to it. It was darker than the surrounding room, like ink in water. I wondered if Dumbledore had noticed, but he continued.

"Snape made a decision. There is much discussion as to why; some say he did it for personal gain, for personal power. Others say he did it to infiltrate the dark side and try to prove himself by attempting to defeat it. But whatever the motive, he became a Death Eater. "

At that I lost interest in the inky aura around the image. "Your Potions Master is a Death Eater?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could Albus Dumbledore be providing sanctuary for a Death Eater in, of all places, a school?

"Was a Death Eater, Miss Claros. Please, I know this is shocking but let me finish. As I said, Professor Snape has been of great service to me in the past and his association with, shall we say, less savory characters is quite beneficial in matters like these. There was a time when his ability to move unsuspected between the worlds of dark and light magic were of great help to all of us in our fight against Voldemort."

"I understand, but--"

"But how do I know he's not still one of them?"

"Well, yes."

"I trust him."

"That's all?

"Isn't that enough?"

I looked over at the image again. "Headmaster, what is that?"

"Pardon?"

"Look at your projection. There's something around him. When you said he was a Death Eater I thought it was a dark aura. But it's not. You see it? It has no shape or form but I feel a presence, nearly human."

"Do you?" There was a flatness to his voice now that hadn't been there before. His face had grown quite serious and his blue eyes were staring intently into my own. I knew he saw what I was talking about and I suspected he knew what it meant. I knew better than to try to pry into his thoughts.

"This is why I'm here?" I asked.

"You're here to teach. Let's get you started!" With that he dropped my hand, the connection was broken and the image of the potions master flickered and vanished.

2.

I couldn't put it off any longer. I had unpacked and organized everything I had brought with me to start teaching my divination classes. A visit to Professor Sprout's nurseries had provided several pots of fresh herbs that were now flourishing on my office windowsill, but I still need some crucial ingredients that could only be obtained in the school's supplies of potions supplies, kept under lock and key by the Potions Master, Severus Snape.

The shady projection in the Headmaster's office had filled me with a irrational sense of alarm at the thought of meeting Professor Snape. "Don't be ridiculous," I'd tell myself over and over again. I knew that the image Dumbledore had projected in his office had been an abstraction, a mere impression of the man which could very well have been colored with either Dumbledore's personal feelings, or more likely, something to which he was attempting to test my reaction.

Whatever the case, there was no avoiding it. A trip to the dungeons was essential. I collected my case and set off.

I stopped just outside the potions classroom. I could hear voices, although I knew there were no classes scheduled at the time. I waited outside for a moment. I could hear very little, voices but no words. One voice, deep and melodious, seemed to carry through the very walls. The others were very quiet, students certainly, and there seemed to be only a very few of them. There was no sense of anything unusual, certainly no lurking evil that I could perceive. 'Oh for God's sake! Just go in! He's not going to bite you! Not in front of students anyway.' I told myself, and stepped into the classroom.

"Excuse me Professor Snape?"

The voices in the room were silent. A group of boys, about 4th year were gathered around bubbling aquarium filled with green, slimy water. It appeared some of them had been set to a rather unpleasant task involving removing malformed green snails from this mire and handing them over to another group that had an even more odious task that was must have been even more unpleasant for the snails. The boys' eyes all turned to me as I entered, as did those of their teacher.

Like the Dumbledore's image he was very tall and thin and was dressed entirely in black. But to my great relief, in physical form although he was, indeed, imposing it was in a dignified manner as opposed to resembling the grim reaper. There was no hint of an inky black aura or of impending doom. His complexion was very pale (I tried not to smile at the memory of Professor McGonnagall's suggestion that he take a holiday) but that only served to bring out the striking darkness of his black eyes that were now looking intently at me waiting, for me to explain my presence in his classroom.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had students."

"Not at all. These...gentlemen," he looked over at them and they seemed to physically shrink, "are assisting me in a task that they expressed an interest in during one of my lectures." His eyes never left the group of students as he spoke in the quiet, hypnotic voice I had heard outside the room. He paused, then lifted up one of the green snails for my inspection. I tried not to cringe. "For some reason the miserable lives of these pitiful creatures struck these young men as immeasurably humorous." He turned to me again. "I thought they would enjoy becoming more familiar with them."

He dropped the snail back into the aquarium. "Now, Professor Claros, what can I do for you?"

"There are a few items I need before I start my classes".

"Divination? Good luck. You'll be starting from nothing you know," He walked over to a wall on the far end of the classroom that was made up entirely of glass fronted cabinets. "Hogwarts has never had much of a Divination program. I don't know why we've decided to start one now." He turned a key in a lock and every cabinet opened. "I know a little about your history, Professor, I do hope you won't feel you're wasting your time here."

"I'm only here for a year," I said as I opened my case and took out the few bottles and jars that I'd come to fill.

"Now that is a shame," he said and began to walk back toward his desk. "Still," he paused and turned back, "one never really does know one's future. Oh and, you'll forgive me, but as you'll soon find out, I am regrettably low on tea leaves."

"Oh, don't worry about that, I always carry my own tea leaves. Never leave home without them, that's what I always say." It was obvious our conversation was over."Your ledger?"

He indicated a large leather bound book on the end of the counter where I had set my case. I opened it and with my wand set the quill to recording each item I took out of the storage cabinets.

It wasn't long before I felt it behind me. A presence, a very definite human presence and it was growing stronger. I kept my mind on my work, and glanced over at Snape. He was sitting at his desk reading the Daily Prophet. The students were busy with their snails. I concentrated on the drops of liquid going into one bottle, the grains of powder going into the next. And with each drop the presence grew stronger. It was Snape, and this was a test. Don't do this Professor; you really do not want to do this, I thought but did not say aloud. I looked over at the Professor's desk. His physical form was nearly motionless. He was pouring a lot of energy into this projection. I don't give many warnings Professor. If this is a test we can consider it passed, can't we?

I got no response save a mere brush of wind across the back of my neck. I felt a flush of rage. I looked for a distraction while doubling my concentration on the tiny amber crystals I was counting out into a small jar. "Ten, eleven, twelve," with the merest twitch of my wand I slammed the great ledger shut with a bang, and stepped directly backwards into the astral body of Professor Severus Snape.

Except for complete physical possession, there is nothing more uncomfortable that having one's astral body invaded by a physical one. There is no defense against it save simple avoidance when in the astral state and my distraction had robbed Snape of that advantage. While not forbidden, physical invasion of astral beings did border on that grey area of dark arts that caused raised eyebrows in many quarters.

It was like being caught in a vortex. Although the Snape recovered his concentration in less than a second and pulled back, like that instant just before one drifts off to sleep the moment our minds were linked was stretched like dreamtime into an unmeasurable span. As I expected, there was an overwhelming sense of fury, but with it, an impression of appreciation as one would have for a chess opponent who'd just made a masterful move against him. But under that, what I noticed most, and what I carry with me still is a feeling of awesome power.

Severus Snape had in his grasp the capacity to be an extremely powerful wizard. Because of the distortion of time in such a state, whether he had already or would in future reach that potential was unclear and would take hours of unraveling but there was no doubt. I could clearly see the pure intellect and strength of will that he had needed as a younger man to overcome the evil pull of Voldemort and remove himself from the Death Eaters. I knew why Dumbledore held him in such high regard.

"Gentlemen!" I heard Snape address his students as he recovered his physical being. "I think you've tortured those pitiful creatures quite enough for one day. Gather your things and get out."

I recovered myself while twisting my wand back up in my hair and watched the students leave. It didn't appear that they had noticed anything unusual, except for my slamming of the potions supply ledger. The last one glanced back at me just before he left the room.

Snape glared at me, his dark eyed positively glittering with rage. "Miss Claros, what the hell are you playing at?" He spat the words across his desk like venom.

I crossed the room quickly and leaned toward him over the desk. "That's Doctor Claros, and I might ask you the same thing."

"You Americans and your titles," he sneered, "forgive me, Doctor." The last word was drawn out, an unmistakable slight.

"Of course titles mean nothing to you, 'Potions Master'" I turned and walked back to collect my case of supplies.

He got up quickly and followed, tugging his long black robes behind him. "I could have you thrown out of here for that. You'd be out of here so quickly you'd forget you'd ever arrived"

"You'll do no such thing."

"You seem very sure of yourself."

"I am." I started for the door. "There is nothing you can say or do that will get me to leave here now. It's just starting to get interesting. Thank you for the supplies, Potions Master, if I can return the favor any time-- if you're ever in need of tea leaves perhaps, you'll know where to find me." And with that I turned and left the classroom leaving Snape smouldering behind me.