Owl Eyes

Owl Eyes

Chapter Six

Dueling with Snape

A dance with the master

A duel of sorts

A pairing that's equal

A challenge for sure

Minds at the ready

Harts that mean well

Wands trained on targets

Words chosen well

Bow and be graceful

Rise and be warned

The duel has started

The lesson is now

The Dark Lord swept through the shadowy halls of his castle. Something inside him stirred to life. His Enemy Albus Dumbledore was planning something. Lord Voldemort could feel the plan thickening in the air. It was affecting his breathing which came in short, excited inspirations and expirations which were moist with anticipation. Was the other really stronger than himself? He had many faithful death eaters, but were they all dedicated to serving him? Perhaps he would summon them and test their loyalty once more. It never hurt to be sure what others thought of him and how loyal they were.

****

The cold air from the dungeons slid right through my robes and touched my skin. I walked forward attempting to press my clothes in closer. I couldn't understand how anyone could spend so much time in this frigid place. As I walked my cane tapped out a quiet rhythm which echoed off the walls and back to me. Aside from it the air was still, and the halls silent. I almost felt guilty for disturbing the peace with my muggle stick.

I entered Professor Snape's classroom through the open door. Another night of detention. At least it hadn't been that bad so far. I strode across the room to his office. When I located the doorway with my cane I realized that the door had been left open. I paused there.

"Miss Lee," Snape's silky voice greeted me.

I shivered. Perhaps I found that voice attractive. No! I certainly did not. He was a professor. I was too young. I could not be interested in him. I felt my form slump against the doorjamb in confusion.

"Good evening Professor," I stammered, trying not to sound stupid.

"I hear you participated in quite the exciting duel this afternoon," he said.

"Yes, sir." I tried to hide my smile and my pride but he saw right through me.

"I wouldn't get so excited," he said. "You'll have plenty of time for real dueling soon. The order wouldn't have you participate untrained, such as you are."

I shivered this time in fear. What would they do with me? Perhaps they'd throw me in the middle of a circle of death eaters and see if I could survive. If I came out alive they would see me fit for the order and if not, well I'd simply be dead. Would they care if I did die? Was I just a tool in the war against the darkness that loomed up before the wizarding world, something that could be cast aside when it no longer had value? I shuttered as I pondered the possibilities.

I stood and said nothing.

"Perhaps you would like to practice and sharpen your dueling skills?" Snape asked. His voice was tempting me to engage in the activity. I wondered if he sensed my nervousness or if he was tired of reciting potions ingredients already. "I should like to view your dueling skills for myself, before I pair you with Potter. Though unlike Ms. Wiggins, I should be concerned that you might Seriously injure Mr. Potter." He emphasized the words seriously injure.

"Very well," I said plainly. It seemed the less I said around the man the less trouble I would get myself into.

"Follow me," he said, as he slid passed me in the doorway.

I walked along behind him quickly. My cane now tapped steadily as my long strides matched his. I accidentally wacked him on the back of one of his calves with the cane tip.

His footsteps stopped.

I sucked in a breath.

"That cane of yours will get you into trouble," he said.

"Not usually," I said. "But perhaps with you," I teased. "I'm quite sorry though."

"Perhaps it would be best if you took my arm so that you are not given another opportunity to maim me."

I could not hold back my laughter.

"Are you quite done mocking me?" he asked.

I stifled all but a few last giggles and reached for his arm. We were off again, our long strides eating up the distance between the potions classroom and what I would discover to be the charms classroom.

"Professor Flitwick never works late," Snape commented as we entered the room.

I wondered if this small comment was a hint about what kind of professor, Snape felt Flitwick to be. The little man had seemed competent to me. Perhaps a bit excitable, but skilled enough. Perhaps Professor Snape meant to suggest that Flitwick never worked late because he never gave students detention or didn't have papers to grade because he didn't assign enough homework.

He led me to one side of the room and promptly stopped. I let his arm slip from my grasp and my own return to my side. I drew my wand to signal that I was ready to duel. His steps retreated, he pivoted with a swish of robes, and there was a pause. I assumed he was waiting for me and so I bowed deeply. After all, I did feel he was worthy of my respect. He said and did nothing so I took up the count.

"One...Two...Three!" I counted.

We cast our spells to disarm at the same time and both were easily deflected. We both tried a second time and failed. He moved quickly to his right, my left, and cast another spell. I had heard his move and quickly blocked his spell sending another. We continued the dance, back and forth, casting and blocking spells. He moved frequently and once had to flatten himself on the ground to avoid a painful hex I had sent his way.

"Move your feet!" he shouted.

He didn't miss a beat though and kept hurling hexes my way. It was harder to keep up with things once I had started to move and I was hit with a tickling charm but I was not disarmed and I stood and continued the duel quite quickly even through my laughter. Another time I dropped to the ground and rolled as a flesh burning curse which was difficult to block came my way. I came out of the roll just as he was casting another spell and I felt a numbness in my left arm. At least he hadn't hit my right arm which had probably been his target. I was sure he was going easy on me. While I was distracted he followed the numbing spell with another and I doubled over in pain, my stomach cramping. He's good at this I thought. I can't let him win though! Luckily he did pity me for a moment and it was long enough for me to send a disarming curse at him and I heard a thud as he landed, his wand flying to my outstretched, slightly numb hand.

From the floor, sounding out of breath he said, "Never stick your hand out like that to catch your opponent's wand. In doing so you make it a target for a variety of spells such as the severing charm."

As he said the word sever I pulled my arm in close to me and thought of the pain such a spell might cause.

"I see that you are fit to duel, Miss Lee"

"I would have never disarmed you if you hadn't stopped to pity me," I pointed out.

"Then perhaps you have found a weakness in me that others seldom see"

"I should hope they never do, it could get you into trouble."

"I am well aware of that. I hardly put my emotions on public display. It is certainly none of your concern, Miss Lee."

He sounded angry and snappish.

He drug himself from the floor. He sounded awkward, as if his limbs were stumps he was dragging. I said nothing and waited patiently. It would do me no good to inquire after the state of his health in the current situation.

"I, I must go, Miss Lee"

He suddenly sounded as if he were in pain. I could hear his breathing growing rapid. He retreated with quick but distractedly positioned footsteps. What was going on?!

"I'm sorry!" I called after him.

What the hell had I done? Had I injured two professors in one day? It was just a disarming charm and he had seemed fine just a moment before. Was he upset that he had not won the duel? Perhaps I should go to the headmaster and inform him of the goings on at our detention session. How would I get to his office from here? How would I get anywhere from here. I sighed. It had been disorienting enough trying to move about while I hurled hexes at Snape and fought to block his curses. Rolling on the floor to avoid various spells had spun my world quite thoroughly and it was a good thing that I even remembered where the door was. I needed to practice working through disorientation. In a real duel my lack of complete awareness could, and probably would, get me killed.

My arm was still slightly numb. I wondered if the spell would wear off on its own. I didn't want to deal with Pomfrey ever again, if I could help it.

After gathering my thoughts I began to retrace my steps to the potions classroom. If I could accomplish that, I would be able to find my way to the tower and someone could show me the way to Dumbledore's office.

****

Severus staggered through the halls of the castle almost at a run. He clutched his forearm and clenched his jaw. The pain was unbearable. Why did Voldemort have to call him now. The summons had become more frequent lately and it would effect his work eventually. Some of the students might suspect something. Did it matter if they suspected something? He wasn't sure. He was in too much pain to decide, or even to care one way or another.

Cursing under his breath and trying to keep from stumbling he made his way to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds and apperated to Voldemort's side.

"My Lord," he said. "I am here." He bowed so low his forehead could have touched the hem of Voldemort's robes. When there was no reply he rose and backed into his place in the circle of death eaters.

"You come again, my loyal servants," Voldemort said. His red eyes piercing each death eater in turn.

"Yes, my Lord" they breathed as one. The circle bowed in unison as if it were the fingers of one hand curling inward.

Severus could feel something gnawing at the pit of his stomach. There was something strange about this particular visit.

****

Harry was sitting in a large, soft, over-stuffed chair in the common room when his scar began to burn. Instinctively he reached up to press his right palm to his forehead as if the contact from his skin would soothe the pain. Of course, nothing was to calm that particular ache. Harry closed his eyes in agony.

He could see it all. He didn't want to.

Voldemort stood, back straight, surrounded by his death eaters who peered at him attentively. He was saying something but the words were jumbled in Harry's mind and he couldn't make them out. He motioned to one death eater who stepped forward. A long lecture was given to the man who did not respond. The man fell to the ground writhing in pain. Voldemort held his wand steady, pointed at the man's chest, and it looked like the dark lord was laughing. Each of the robed men were called forward in turn. Harry noticed a few women in the group which had grown and now contained many faces he did not know. Each person was tortured and Harry's body shook with pain though he was unaware of its convulsions. The length of torture for each death eater varied. Some had to endure only a few seconds of Voldemort's curse while others twitched and screamed on the ground until they could move nor speak no more. Many bled from their nostrils or their ears while Voldemort continued the curse. Most could not walk after they had been cursed and they lay still moaning or all too silent on the stone floor. Soon there was no circle of death eaters but live, suffering bodies randomly scattered about. The Dark Lord began walking to each death eater to put him under the curse because the floor space available at his feet for torturing had been greatly diminished. Blood oozed from many of the prone figures and it was like their tears, as they had no strength or will to shed real ones. Harry watched as two men disapperated just as Voldemort was approaching them. Harry gasped, taking the moment while Voldemort thought and grew angry to rest his aching body. Why did he have to feel their pain?

When the evil man known as Lord Voldemort was finished he crept around inspecting each person, pulling back hoods to recheck their identities. Harry was sure he wanted to account for everyone who was there and anyone who was not, and who had once called himself a death eater, would be severely punished. Harry was somewhat glad to see Professor Snape's face, despite the blood, because it meant the man had not given up his duty to spy for the side of the light.

The image faded and someone was shaking Harry.

"Harry, Harry!" It was Ron's voice. "Harry are you okay?"

What a stupid question Harry thought. Stop shaking me. Damn it, stop, it hurts! He was not yet ready to speak but his eyes flicked open.

"We need to get him to the hospital wing," Hermione was shouting desperately.

"Please not there. Not Madam Pomfrey, not people traipsing in and out all day he thought. I need quiet. I need rest. Stop touching me. Stop shaking me.

"I think we should take him to Dumbledore," Lucinda said. The girl was very smart.

"We shouldn't move him," Ron said.

"Good idea," Harry moaned. "Leave me here. It hurts so bad!"

"There's no where for him to lay in Dumbledore's office though," Hermione complained.

"Then levitate him upstairs to the boy's dorms and Dumbledore can come here," Lucinda said impatiently.

"But Madam Pomfrey will want to see him," Hermione whined.

"She always does," Ron said.

"He needs quiet right now," Lucinda said in a half whisper. She sounded far too much like Snape and the next thing Harry heard was Hermione saying the levitating spell, then he was gently lifted and deposited on his bed.

****

I stood quite still beside Harry's bed. Ron and Hermione had gone to fetch Professor Dumbledore. I wondered if Harry would be okay. It seemed to be a pretty bad vision. I had had many but they were usually calm glimpses of the future. This was a gift that Harry had but it was also a curse.

I reached for his hand, and when I had located it, squeezed it gently. He squeezed back weakly. He was in pain. I sighed. Not much could be done until someone brought him potions to relieve it.

"Can you hear me Harry?" I whispered.

He squeezed my hand weakly once more.

"They've gone to get Professor Dumbledore."