Secrets in the Dark

His resolve made, Severus shakily got to his feet, fighting back the dizziness and pain. Apparating was no option in his current state. Left the Knight bus. The ride might even allow him some time to get out of his mental stupor, think through his decision. Plan what to tell Dumbledore. Strategize. Probably, a first strategic step would be to dry himself and tidy up a little. Why hadn't he cast a waterproof spell before running out into the rain? And the blood on his robes and hands, though exclusively his own for once, wouldn't make a good impression, either.

His hands groped for his wand. But it wasn't in his pockets. Damn it! The wand was buried and burned in that cursed house that used to be his home. Together with his most beloved 'father.' And Lucius's. This thought, at least, brought some satisfaction. Two useful minions less for the Dark Lord. But no wand was a bad thing, he almost felt naked without it. Couldn't be helped, now. And it spared the Ministry the process of breaking it ...

The Knight bus. Luckily it could be summoned without a wand. Severus gave the required signal, and with a plop the bus appeared out of nowhere at a terrifying speed. The young man had to quickly jump backwards to avoid being run over. Bloody madman of a driver! The bus came to a halt with breaks screaming, and the door opened.

When Severus entered, the elderly driver's eyes almost popped out of his head. If it hadn't been clear daylight by now, he would have sworn this deathly pale, rain-soaked and bloodied youngster was a Vampire on the run. But he hadn't heard of any light-resistant Vampire breed yet. So there surely was a rather harmless explanation for the unusual appearance. Probably a little drunk-fight with a friend? His sympathetic curiosity and good-naturedness took over again after the first shock.

"Gosh, mate, ya do look terrible. Did ya get run o'er by a bus?" His joke was totally lost on the dark wizard.

"Heed your own business!" Severus snapped, giving the driver a death-glare.

"Sorry, sir, didn't wanna intrude upon ya! Where ya wanna go, anyways?"

"Hogwarts."

"T'is can take a while then. Better fin' a seat an' make yusself comfortable. Like a hot cocoa? Chocolate? Candies? Magazines? Headphones?"

Roaring "No!" and almost throwing the fare at the talkative man, Severus went off to the rear end of the bus, as far away from the sickeningly jovial driver as possible.

There were quite a few passengers, mostly witches with their children going Christmas shopping. They all stared but one glare was enough to make the gawking kids look the other way, horrified. Even whispering seemed too dangerous in the sinister looking man's presence.

In a dark corner, Severus found himself a secluded seat and sat down. When the bus took off with a sudden jerk, he almost tripped, muttering curses under his breath. This definitely didn't help with his nausea. He had to concentrate hard to not vomit. Probably he better lay down. Gingerly, Severus got up again and sprawled his long limbs on one of the thin mattresses which hadn't yet been tucked away after nightshift. This was better. But he was soaked to the skin and so cold his teeth began to clatter. When the obnoxious driver came up to the rear and dropped a blanket on the freezing man - luckily without a word - Severus only managed a weak half-glare before coiling up under the woolen cover.

********

"Hey, mate, better get movin'. T'is Hogwarts now."

Hogwarts. Severus opened his eyes from an uneasy slumber full of images of fire and death. At his graduation four years ago, he had been sure he would never set his foot on Hogwarts's ground again. Not if he could help it. The school had been much more of a home to him than any before, that was true. But it had been a relief to finally get away from the morons who were his classmates and the suspicious glares of the predominantly incompetent teachers, nevertheless. Not to forget the humiliating pranks by Saint Potter plus disciples and the unnerving twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes. Though the twinkling was much preferable to the cold, piercing wrath in those same eyes that seemed to strip their human target naked to the bone.

He shuddered. Being subjected to this glare wasn't something he looked forward to encounter a second time, though, most likely, he would exactly have to face this and even worse before the day was done. Potter, of course, had never been the target of Dumbledore's calm rage. Not even this stupid dude Sirius Black or the werewolf. No, it had been Severus alone who got the whole measure after nearly having been killed by the 'holy trinity.' They were noble Gryffindors after all. And he was nothing but an evil Slytherin snake.

If he only had left for America after graduation, or Australia, Alaska even. Anything would have been better than stay. Stay and join the Death Eater ranks together with several of his house-mates. And return to that blasted house in Knockturn Alley to help his 'father' brew potions for the Dark Lord. Or acquire rare ingredients for his Lordship's experiments. But he had been too deeply involved already, would have done anything to gain his godfather and master's recognition. He had just returned from one of those ventures, this time to retrieve a certain marine slug that is said to hold a very potent poison. He still had the jar with the pickled animal in his pockets ...

And now, he was returning to Hogwarts of his own will. How ironic. To the smiling and trusting old fool of a Headmaster, as so many believed. But Severus knew better. He had seen the slumbering beast in Dumbledore's eyes. Beware if that beast ever broke lose.

Wordlessly, Severus got off the bus and walked up to the school's impressive iron gate. With a creak, the huge wings opened. It was late afternoon by now, and still raining slightly. Severus prayed to heaven - or hell, whichever granted his wish - that the students and staff would be still occupied with classes and not crowding the hall and corridors. The very last he wanted to experience now was to run into a flock of frolicking first-years. Drawing up his hood against the rain and curious glances, he proceeded on the way to the main entrance.

He still felt cold and dizzy, and the closer he came to the castle the more nervous he became. When he reached the large wooden door he was on the verge of panicking, could hardly keep himself from turning and running. Draw the bell, you bloody coward, he scolded. And with hands shaking he followed his order.

Oh joy! Of all the teachers it had to be Minerva McGonagall, the stern Gryffindor Head of house, who answered the call. She surveyed him up and down through the half-opened door, eyebrows raised in legitimate suspicion.

"Who are you, Mister, and what is your business? Explain yourself!" Her voice was exactly as scathing and reprimanding as Severus remembered from his school-days. Don't show your nervousness, now, by all means, pull yourself together! He steeled himself against her piercing gaze.

"Severus Snape. I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Snape. That rang a bell. An alarm bell to be true. She remembered the boy. Very intelligent, ambitious, and exceedingly arrogant. A loner who mostly kept to himself and his books when he wasn't engaged in this outrageous personal feud he had going on with James Potter and his fellow Gryffindors. Nothing good to expect from this side. A cunning, treacherous, sneaking little Slytherin snake, no doubt. And wasn't this blood on his cloak?

"What do you want to talk about with the Headmaster, Mr. Snape?" she inquired sharply.

"Not your bl... ." No, not good. Not good at all. You didn't yell and swear at the Professor. She'd deliver you a scathing lecture on how to behave and then bang the door into your face. Calm down and try again.

"It's strictly personal."

"You must understand, Mr. Snape, that these are dangerous and busy times. I cannot possibly let you walk into school and occupy the Headmaster's valuable time without checking the legitimacy of your request. Now, Mr. Snape?"

No answer.

"Then, Mr. Snape, I must ask you to leave." With determination, she commenced to close the door.

"Wait, Professor! It's important, urgent. Please..." The obvious despair in the young man's voice made the stern Professor waver.

"Would you make up your mind now and tell me what this is all about, Mr. Snape?"

"I can't." His voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. Not much of the proud and arrogant Slytherin she remembered from the years past was left now. With eyes fixed to the ground, hands trembling and obviously fighting back tears, her former student reminded her of a frightened first-year waiting for detention. The usually well-hidden motherly part of Professor McGonagall took over, the part that even held some comfort and pity for a lost Slytherin.

"Ok, Mr. Snape, I'll let you see the Headmaster. But only on one condition: You have to hand over your wand to me for the time you stay at Hogwarts."

"I have no wand." His quiet answer took her by surprise.

"You have no wand?" she asked incredulously. "And you really believe I'd by that nonsense?"

"I lost it." Black eyes staring intensely into hers. That boy definitely looked as if he had lost more than merely his wand. Should she call Madam Pomfrey? But then again this might be of some importance. Making up her mind, she finally let Severus in.

"Follow me, and no tricks!"