The Necromancer Amulet

Author's notes: Thanks to Elysia Snape for encouragements and excellent beta-reading! Also thanks to jords for further pointers.

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Chapter Eight - The Nightmare

It was dark all around her, and so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat. As her eyes grew accustomed to the bad light, she saw that she was trapped in a black cage with twisted ebony bars and no door. Outside was emptiness.

Looking up, she noticed that the cage ceiling was covered in ancient runes, and the light seemed to make them twist and turn, gleaming with a pale red light. A sense of foreboding came upon her, and she looked around frantically. She had to get out.

She could hear humming in the background now, something reminiscent of dark chant, and the runes glowed brighter.

'Achnab ori undóm. Aznug gart seszúnt...' The words cut into her head like knives. Holding her hands over her ears she got up, huddling towards the end of the cage. She felt something trickle down her neck, something warm and sticky, and when she looked up, she saw that dark red blood seeped from the runes.

She screamed as more blood trickled down on her, the flow increasing. Breathing became increasingly harder, and she inhaled in short, sharp gasps. The chant was getting louder now, and the warm, red fluid poured down along the bars, flowing over her feet. Desperately she threw herself against the bars, again and again, and then suddenly, something gave away, and she fell into nothingness...

Someone called her name in the distance. She felt as if she was buried deeply below ground, unable to move. Her hand was hurting with cold.

"Enervate." The dark voice pierced through her darkness and collected her. She opened her eyes.

She was sprawled on the floor in the corridor outside her rooms, near the main staircase hall, the door to her quarters open. A torch on the wall spread its flickering, mild light on her, and she was covered by a black cloak that had a sharp smell of herbs: hellebore root and...something else.

"What happened to you?" the voice asked, and she squinted upwards towards its source. Severus Snape was on standing next to her, fully dressed and wand in hand, looming over her sharply. It seemed that the suspicion she had awoken in him at dinner earlier had been temporarily set aside, and strangely enough, she did not feel very threatened by him. She must have hit her head, she decided. Or perhaps, compared to the dream she had just had, this was nothing?

"Nothing...I had a bad dream..." She sat up slowly, and holding the cloak tightly with one arm, she tried to get her bearings. Her head suddenly felt it was about to burst, and she put a hand to it with an "Ouch!"

"You must have hurt you head while falling." Snape examined her with piercing eyes. "Shall I take you to the hospital wing?"

"No thank you, I'll be fine." She felt dizzy, but was desperate to get rid of him.

"That must have been quite a nightmare." His words were even and measured.

Saying nothing, she looked at the floor, feeling very uncomfortable. He leaned over to help her up when something caught his eye.

"What is that on your hand?" he muttered. She tried to hide her right hand out of sight, but it was too late. He took it into his own and examined the white shiny wheel that was now as cold as ice. His eyes narrowed.

"Did you get this now?"

"No, it's old."

"Where did you get it from?"

She kept her silence; she could not make herself trust him, no matter how much Dumbledore would plead. His eyes bored sharply into hers until she managed to look away, biting her lip.

After having scrutinised her mutely for a while, he slowly helped her up, stiffly wrapping the cloak around her, like he preferred not to touch her. Her head swirled, and she suddenly realised it was in the middle of the night.

"I'm lucky you were still up."

"I...work late sometimes."

Wandering the corridors? she thought, but she said nothing, and she leaned on his arm as he helped her back to her bed, where she sat down. Holding his cloak tighter, she noticed with embarrassment that the sheets were in hopeless disarray. He stood up, looking even more uncomfortable, but then seemed to compose himself a bit.

"I can get you a sleeping draught that will let you sleep peacefully," he said, his face devoid of expression.

"Thank you, that would be...nice."

She gave him a little weak smile and he looked slightly flustered as he walked out and closed the door. When he was gone, she started to shiver and she felt on the verge of tears, for the second time that day; she could not believe she had forgotten to set her dream-walls, and cursed herself. Slowly she lied down, trying to relax.

*

Severus Snape walked down the staircase and down the hall towards his dungeons, feeling very strange indeed. He was furious with himself, of course. Feeling something akin to concern for someone was not exactly one of his common traits.

He would have none of this, he decided. It was simply unacceptable - he was supposed to be watching the bloody woman and nothing would divert his focus from doing just that. His temporary insanity just then did not change the fact that the female in question was as cold as a fish and highly dangerous.

As he opened the potions cupboard in his chambers and retrieved a sleeping draught from his private stores, he forced himself to think about the scar instead. Now this was interesting. Curse scars were usually seen on the head or the chest, remnants of battle as they were. But the hand? What could she have touched? Another evidence of Secessa's highly irregular activities, to be sure. He was almost certain she had no involvement with the Dark Lord - at least, that was what he had understood from Lucius Malfoy. But that did not change the fact that she seemed to have some sort of hidden agenda.

He would have to discuss this with the Headmaster at the earliest convenience, he decided as he ascended the stairs towards the second floor. And he would remain within safe distance of this witch until he had regained control over himself. That would be the wisest thing to do.

Outside her quarters, he paused for a short moment. Drawing his breath, he knocked, and she opened the door, now thankfully a bit more appropriately dressed. She handed him his cloak soundlessly, still looking pale, and he gave her the potion wearing his usual blank face.

"Take it at once," he muttered, nodded at her, and closed the door firmly before she had time to say anything.

Outside, he stood still for a while, gathering his thoughts. Then, his eyes were caught by a glimmer; there was something on the cloak in his arms. He slowly scrutinised it in the torchlight and removed two long strands of shiny hair. He looked at them for a while, then swore quietly, and threw them into the air as he hurried away.

Author notes: There are more chapters waiting to be read! Thanks for reading and please review!