Shadows of an Evil Past

CHAPTER 3: Knockturn Alley.

The Hermit: Withdrawal

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~*~

It was Saturday night in London. The weather was unusually good for early November and a lot of people had seized the opportunity for a good time out.

In Knockturn Alley, though, the weather had little -if any- importance to the individuals who walked the ill-lit streets. In this place, the darkest of secrets could be found, bought or sold for a price, one not always of monetary nature. There were eerie shops and shadowed alleys and the feeling of being watched lingered in the air. An old and faded wooden sign marked the entrance of the 'Burning Skull', a place undistinguished from the other establishments of the Alley but well known for the two things it offered, along with a vast variety of drinks, not all of them legal. The first was anonymity and discretion, the opportunity to blend into the crowd in the absence of invasive stares. The second was the infamous and unconfirmed existence of a lower level, where all of the secret desires and vices could find their fulfillment - for a price.

Having spent the most dreadful evening with the Malfoys, Severus Snape has sought refuge to his familiar surroundings of the 'Burning Skull', numbing his senses with his highly efficient but equally addictive wormwood tincture. Not to mention illegal, he thought with a bitter smile. If Dumbledore finds out I'm back to my old habits, he'll have me serve detention until hell freezes over. The Gryffindors will have a field day, he thought, unable to spare even himself from the sarcasm.

Lying on a small bed, which was covered by linen of doubtful hygiene, he was studying the cracks on the ceiling while he waited for the last of the absinthe to wash away from his system. The evening had been a total waste. Narcissa had insisted on inviting him to dinner, hopping to patch him up with yet another of her unmarried friends. Had he known this, he would have claimed a sudden ailment and spare himself the torture. But he had been too tired from both Moody's and Karkaroff's pestering and was looking for a way out of Hogwarts, even for a short while. Lucius had been a part of the plan as well, but to the Malfoys' disappointment it had been yet another failure. Snape's gloomy disposition, sarcasm and bilious comments had made Narcissa's boring friend leave in a hurry.

Reflecting on the evening's events, Severus concluded it was for everyone's advantage it turned out this way. That woman was boring, unable of intellectual conversation and very much in love with her self, much like Lucius' wife. The women that were to his liking were few when he was younger and had almost become a sort of an extinct species, as he grew older. And he very much doubted it that, if he ever met one, she would find him appealing. What could he offer her? His 'cheerful' character? His endless hours over a steaming cauldron and the nights he spent over ancient grimoires? His abysmal pit of venomous remarks? His shadowed past, ever ready to leap on him and tear him apart? His countless nights of tormenting nightmares and the mark that burned his heart as much as it burned his forearm?

Yes, definitely. I'm quite a catch for any woman of age

, he thought, his innate sarcasm targeting himself once more.

He checked his pocket watch once more. One more hour, and he could return to Hogwarts with a clear head. From the room next to his own, he heard faint sounds of a couple having sex. He moved closer to the wall, trying to make out more details. With one more hour to go, he could use all the distraction he could get from his gloomy thoughts. And then the sounds were not as faint anymore, and certain phrases reached his ears clearer than he had wished. Words like 'suck me' and 'all the way down, bitch' were clearly audible. He heard no reply from the other player, though. I wonder why, he thought with a smirk, as his hand moved down to his crotch. And he discovered with disappointment that the absinthe had taken its toll on his manhood as well. He rolled over to his stomach, pressing a pillow over his head to block out the annoying sounds from the couple next door.

Impotence. Another jewel to be added to my list of admirable qualities

, he thought bitterly.

One more hour to go. He had survived the Dark Lord. This couldn't be worse.

~*~

In another part of London, Cassandra Blackthorn was studying the file of the murdered girl once more, checking for details that she might have missed the first time. She could feel of something evading her grasp, but she could not pinpoint it. She wished she could see the body, but her contacts in the Scotland Yard had not yet returned her calls. She was lucky enough to have the Muggle file in her hands as well, but nothing could substitute a first person experience.

Putting away the disturbing photographs, she turned her attention to the information she had acquired on the man known as Severus Snape. It was nothing she had anticipated. As she had foreseen, more or less, he was a former Death Eater. But he had been cleared; his loyalty vouched by non other than Albus Dumbledore himself. And his present location was at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was a teacher and the Head of the Slytherin House. She checked the file for a snapshot, but she could find none.

Well, it doesn't matter, Professor Snape. I'll meet you in person first thing Monday morning

, she thought. The Headmaster had agreed to meet her, always ready to be of service to the Ministry, especially when it came to issues involving Voldemort. Mentioning the Dark Mark had caught Dumbledore's attention right away.

Putting away files and scrolls, she brought a can of beer in her lips, then lighted a cigarette. She walked over to her bed, took from a drawer her Tarot deck and concentrated on the cards, feeling the energy flowing from the deck to her palms. She focused on the murder case, but her mind moved forward to her upcoming trip on Monday. Accepting her mind's will, she drew out one single card, to see what Fate thought of her return to Hogwarts.

The Fool. The one who's not looking where he's going.

This was not good.