Mysteriorum Antiquitas

Chapter Two: A Matter of Utmost Importance

Miles away, Severus Snape awoke with a start.

He sat up abruptly in his bed, not seeing anything around him, just trying to process what he'd seen in his dream. Dream. Was it a dream? It had seemed so real to him.

The night before, Severus had been reading a brand new book on how the Draught of the Living Death was used throughout history. He had been so fascinated with it that he was up until the early morning hours reading.

'I must have forgotten to take my dreamless sleep potion before I went to bed. That's why I had that strange dream...' But he didn't really believe that taking the potion would have stopped a dream like that from infiltrating his mind. He was well versed enough in the dark arts to know that that was no ordinary dream.

In the dream, Severus had seen an acquaintance of his, Fintan Ashby, a man he saw barely twice a year, brutally murdered. He hadn't had a clear view of the attacker's face; it had been just a blur, but it seemed that Ashby had recognized the man. An idea occurred to him, and he knew what he had to do.

'I'll just floo Fintan... see how he is... It's been a while since we've been in contact.'

Snape quickly rose from his bed, wincing as his feet came in contact with the icy dungeon floor. In a few strides he had crossed his room and opened the bathroom door. He didn't bother turning on the lights. 'It's better this way. I don't have to see my reflection,' he mused darkly.

He leaned down over the sink and splashed his face with cold water. Then he picked up his razor, an old barbershop blade with a wooden handle, and dragged it over his chin. He continued to shave in this manner. When he finished he filled the sink and dunked his head in, wetting his hair. When he had finished "washing" his hair, he grabbed a towel off of the sink and rubbed it, rather roughly, back and forth over his head.

Snape stepped out from the bathroom and changed quickly into black slacks, a white shirt, and a heavy black robe. Having finished his morning ritual, he opened the door to his sitting room and walked over to the large, imposing fireplace.

Reaching into the ceramic pot on the mantel, he grabbed a handful of floo powder. Positioning himself in front of the large fireplace opening, he prepared to throw the powder into the gentle flames that fought desperately against the darkness of his chambers.

Suddenly the flames shot up and took on a greenish hue. Startled, Snape stepped back and dropped the powder he had been holding. He watched as the head of Albus Dumbledore materialized in his fireplace.

~~~

Snape knew there was something wrong when the Headmaster refrained from commenting on the fact that he was standing alone in the dark, looking like a frightened guppy, his mouth hanging open and his eyes bulging. As he regained his composure, Snape noticed that absent from the Headmaster's eyes was the ever-present twinkle that was always a source of comfort. 'This must be serious, indeed,' he thought.

"Severus, I would like to see you in my office as soon as possible." The grave note in Albus Dumbledore's voice told Snape that his assumptions were correct.

"Yes, of course, Headmaster." Snape would not let his voice betray the worry that he felt. It was cool and businesslike.

The Headmaster nodded to Snape and his head disappeared in a whirl of flames, leaving only the dwindling orange flicker of the fire.

Snape muttered a spell under his breath and the powder that lay scattered on the floor flew up into his cupped hand. He promptly threw it into the fireplace, stepped inside, and spoke clearly, but not above a whisper. "The Headmaster's Office."

~~~

Hermione Granger sat at her kitchen table in the London flat she had rented. It was very early, and she still wore her bathrobe and large, pink fuzzy slippers. Not many people would expect Hermione Granger to own a pair of pink fuzzy slippers. They assumed her to be a very serious, no-nonsense kind of woman. She couldn't blame them. Hermione had always put work before everything else. When she dealt with people it was in a very organized, professional manner. The only people who knew about the silly, funny, pink- fuzzy-slippered Hermione were her close friends, and there were only a few of them.

Hermione had always had trouble opening up to people. Even at Hogwarts. She had tried to impress people with her knowledge, but she couldn't easily show them her true feelings. After a while, they only saw her knowledge and not the girl behind it. The know-it-all. That's what she was called. Hermione shuddered. She hated that name and all of the memories attached to it.

Things had to change. She would be the know-it-all no longer. A few weeks ago, Hermione had started her new job, and ever since then she had been trying desperately to open up a bit more with people.

She had just finished her fourth and final year at Oxford Wizarding University. She had majored in History of Magic and had a minor in Transfiguration. Of course she was exceptional in all of her subjects and could have chosen to major in any one of them, but she chose History of Magic. She had always been enamored by history. Her favorite book for years has been Hogwarts: A History.

Her friends had thought she was crazy for choosing to continue with history, "It's the past, Hermione! We're living in the future! Why should we care what happened hundreds of years ago to fat old guys!" Ron had argued.

She had answered him with a reproving glare and her favorite quote, "A person who doesn't know anything about history is like a leaf that doesn't know it was part of a tree."

After she graduated with honors from Oxford, she already had a job waiting for her at the ministry. Now she works in the ministry's archives as a historian. She also spends a great deal of time working with archaeologists who are excavating old Wizarding castles in England and Scotland.

Hermione walked to the sink and conjured a teapot of boiling water and made herself some spiced tea. As she was went back to the table, her slippers shuffling across the floor, she heard a tapping on the window above the sink. She hurried over and saw that a large crimson and gold bird was perched outside on the window ledge, looking expectantly at her with big black eyes.

"Fawkes!" Hermione recognized the bird right away.

She unlatched the window and pushed hard on it, but it stuck. She gave one mighty shove and the window opened wide. Fawkes lifted himself into the air and made an indignant sound in the window's direction. He then flew through the window, dropped a piece of parchment on the table, and landed on the back of Hermione's kitchen chair.

"Thanks, Fawkes." Hermione rewarded the pheonix with a piece of half eaten toast with jam. Fawkes took it from her in his beak, then disappeared in a burst of flame.

After Fawkes had left, Hermione turned her attention to the scroll on the kitchen table. She picked it up and examined it. It had the Hogwarts seal on it, of course as it was no doubt from Dumbledore, and it was addressed to her, Miss H. Granger, in crimson ink.

She quickly undid the seal and read-

Dear Miss Granger,

    I hope I find you well. There has recently been a very serious occurrence, and I require your expertise in this event. It is a matter of great importance. Unfortunately it is also of the utmost confidentiality and it would please you not to mention this to anyone else.

    Please report to my office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as soon as humanly possible.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Puzzled, Hermione reread the letter... then she read it a third time. 'As soon as humanly possible'? 'It would please you...'? That was certainly Dumbledore's way of saying things. He hasn't lost any of his quirkiness. The formality of the letter did startle her, though. She and Dumbledore had been in contact quite often since she left Hogwarts, and this letter was nothing like the others she had received.

Hermione decided that she didn't have a choice in whether she wanted to go or not, Dumbledore was clearly expecting her. She readied herself in a mere 5 minutes and apparated to the gates separating Hogsmeade and Hogwarts.

She looked up at the imposing castle, a sunny gray against the early morning sky. So many memories came rushing back to her. She pushed them away, remembering the urgency of the note she had received.

She took a deep breath, set her jaw in determination, and set off towards Hogwarts.

~~~