The Necromancer Amulet

Author's Notes: Thanks so much to Lady Revenant and DarkLadyofSlytherin for their excellent beta-work!

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Chapter Thirteen - Back at Hogwarts

The ground was covered in snow, and white and soft underneath her paws. All around her was darkness, and peace. A gush of cold, gentle wind brought the smell of forest and rabbits to her sensitive nose; it was a good night for hunting. She quickened her pace eagerly, as a light snow began to fall, making the air around her glimmer with a thousand stars.

Idly interested, she had been following the solitary tracks of a human for a good while, when she came to a hilltop and looked down into the valley below. There was a woman walking there, black hair flowing down the back of a grey robe. The horizon was covered in green and blue lights, eerie but beautiful against the dark sky. Curious, the fox followed the woman, and the lights.

When the fox had almost caught up with her, the woman turned around; her light blue eyes were angry and sad. When she spoke, it was mind to mind.

"Secessa, what are you doing here? You are not ready, yet. Return now, there is somewhere you need to be."

The words awoke something inside her, a sense of identity. Suddenly, she floated away from Elena, the valley, and the peace, as the landscape swept out of her grasp. She never had time to answer. As blackness enveloped her, she howled with sorrow and loss.

*

Secessa woke up in the midst of pain, and found that she was lying face down in the snow, parts of her body numb. Her entire backside hurt badly, and she felt nauseous. Seeing her wand lying in front of her, ebony black against the white snow, she reached for it, and a wave of intensified pain hit her. Clenching her teeth, she grabbed the wand, and with her last effort, she sent silver sparks into the air. Then her vision blackened again.

When she woke up for the second time, she was floating through the air on a stretcher, her pain somewhat lessened. The amulet was still in her pack, she realised, and she wondered vaguely where the pack had gone, for it was not by her side. Shivering, she recognised the first signs of a fever. Stars lit the dark sky above, branches of trees moved before her vision, and turning her head slightly, she saw a black-haired man she knew well, walking beside the stretcher and wearing a scowl.

"How bad?" she wanted to ask, but she only managed a hoarse cough. Something was trickling out of her mouth and down her cheek.

The Potions master's attention was upon her instantly. He lifted his wand muttering a few words, and a soft scarlet cloud swept her off into oblivion.

*

She slowly surfaced from the darkness, a heavy weight on her limbs.

"I most certainly disagree," someone snapped, a voice from far away. "Of all imbecilic, harebrained things I have witnessed, this one beats them all!"

"I was merely commenting on her willpower," replied another, woman's voice sharply. "Apparating here with those injuries! I've seen wizards splinch with less! Anyway, I will have none of that language around my patient; it might disturb her."

There was a brief pause.

"This potion is strong; a few drops will suffice for the second administration," the first voice said smoothly.

There was something sticky on her lips and she licked it away reflexively; her tongue went cold. Secessa surfaced further as a hand applied more goo to her lips, and she licked them again. The substance was foul: cold and extremely bitter. She grimaced and moved her head away.

An iron hand gripped her jaw and pulled it back into position.

"Would you desist!" the first voice snarled furiously, and she recognised it as belonging to Severus Snape. That he seemed to be forced to be her nurse was somehow funny. That she was alive was certainly not - she deserved to die.

Another drop of bitter fluid landed on her tongue, and then the iron grip let go. She gagged with self-loathing, and her eyes filled up with tears. Immediately, she felt a cool hand on her forehead. Then a finger opened first her left eye, then the right. All she could see was a blur. She turned her head away again, wanting to be alone with her sorrow.

"The antidote seems to be working," Snape muttered.

There was a rustle of robes and another hand, a bit warmer, felt her forehead as well.

"Yes, I believe you're right," said the woman, who most likely was Madam Pomfrey, "Thank Goodness."

A pair of very efficient hands put Secessa's pillow back into its proper place.

"Now would you please leave," Madam Pomfrey continued in an angrier tone. "The patient's clearly distressed, and no wonder!"

She heard Snape rise from where he had been sitting beside her. "Call for me if her fever rises again. I might have to add some more asphodel, if this doesn't work. Also, the potion might get toxic if it stands around for too long, but the colour change is very subtle. I must insist on overseeing the administration, just in case."

"Very well, Professor, I will call you. Now get some rest! You look exhausted."

As Snape's footsteps grew fainter, Madam Pomfrey started rearranging the bed blankets, muttering to herself. Secessa kept her eyes shut, but she could not stop an obstinate tear from rolling down her cheek, and suddenly she remembered why she was hurting. The amulet! Where was it?

She opened her eyes to look at Madam Pomfrey, who appeared rather misty. "I must speak to the Headmaster," she said weakly, her voice hoarse.

"There, there, dear," said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, "no need to strain yourself. The Headmaster will see you when you have recovered, and no sooner. He wishes me to tell you however, that he has taken something of yours for safekeeping." Secessa sighed with relief. That was some comfort, at least.

Madam Pomfrey held a cup to her lips, and she drank the sleeping potion obediently. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to its power, and started to drift off.

Somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, she finally realised that Snape could have killed her out in the Forest, and taken the amulet. However, that had not happened. Severus Snape was no Death Eater anymore, and she had just seen positive proof of it.

*

When she woke up, her head was dizzy, and it was dark. She had no idea how long she had slept, but she had vague memories of being supplied with potions, and drifting in and out of a drugged sleep. Feeling much better, she raised her head to have a look around the room. Moonlight shone through the huge windows in the infirmary, making the beds gleam with whiteness. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen.

A pair of dark blue eyes glinted next to her, and she recognised the dusky shape sitting there. Finally, feeling some strength returning to her body, she rose up with a sob and flung her arms around Vladimir. He held her for a very long time, and when he finally let go, his robe had a wet mark on the shoulder. Giving it a thoughtful glance, he wiped her face with a handkerchief.

When she managed to speak, her tongue felt limp. "When did you arrive? I am so glad to see you are safe!" she said, her voice not completely obeying her.

"The day before yesterday, Dumbledore helped me, as you said he would. But I am to stay out of sight, for now," he added with a mischievous grin that briefly flickered over his face. "How are you feeling?"

She winced. For a moment she wished that she, too, had only half a heart and wasn't that badly affected by grief. How wonderful it would be to feel that death was only another way of living. "I feel awful." Then she looked down at her hands. "Did you go to Moscow?" she asked quietly, needing to ask.

"Yes." He hesitated. "Secessa, what happened at that nunnery?"

She looked up at him. He seemed apprehensive.

"I did what you asked and went to the Ministry. I did not see what happened to Elena, but I heard what they found. Something very evil happened at that nunnery, and I cannot imagine what you experienced there. It took the Ministry's best wizards to modify the memories of the nuns who found the body. And ... there is to be an inquiry."

Secessa closed her eyes. She could not bear thinking about it. Vladimir put his hand onto hers and she shivered slightly as he forced her to listen to him. "I know it is hard for you, but the Headmaster has asked to speak with you at the earliest convenience, and I assume it concerns whatever happened in Moscow."

She nodded, accepting her fate. "You might as well send for him."

Vladimir rose, but paused by her bedside, interest and worry shifting in his glittering eyes.

"What has happened to you, Secessa?" he asked.

She was surprised and confused at his question.

"What do you mean?"

"You have changed since Durmstrang. Perhaps it happened slowly, so that you did not notice. You used to be very closed, you know, and distant. As if a layer of frost covered you. Closer people to you than Elena have died, and you never mourned them, at least not openly. And now, you are suddenly full of emotion. Not that you should not grieve, of course; it is very human to do so," he added, "but you have showed more emotions in the past half hour than I have seen the entire time I have known you. It is very curious."

"I don't know," she said, considering his words, somewhat taken aback at his in-depth analysis of her emotional state, "maybe the environment at Hogwarts has had an effect on me. People here are different, from the ones at home."

He scrutinised her, tilting his head the way he always did when he thought. "I have known you for a long time, Secessa. And trust me when I beg you to be careful; someone might be manipulating your emotions. Perhaps they try to lure you into complacency, making you act rashly and against your own better judgement. Perhaps you should ask yourself who would gain from your mistakes."

She stared at him. His dull skin was almost bluish in the moonlight, and his hair gleamed coldly, but his eyes shone with an unusual amount of concern.

"I wish there was more I could do for you. If you need me, do not hesitate to call," he said softly, and left the infirmary silent as a ghost.

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Author notes: Thanks for reading my fic! Please review - I welcome all comments!