Year Three: Book of Riddles

Year Three: Book of Riddles

Safe in the confines of Spinner's End, Snape retreated to the dark corners of his sitting room to ponder of the mysteries of the book Madame Collins had given him. He did little else that summer. When his mind wasn't plotting new and interesting ways to torment Harry Potter and the memory of James, he would study the spells on the worn pages and wonder which ones had helped the Dark Lord in his rise to power and in his impending return.

Occasionally, his mind would wander to Davindra. Dread, annoyance, curiosity, and other dark, unnamed emotions boiled within him when he considered the new year and the task ahead of him. 'Perhaps', he soothed himself, 'she could be of use to me. If Madame Collins thinks nothing of using her as a pawn for her own advancement, then why shouldn't I?' Then, he would forcibly shake himself to avoid delving further into such a treacherous topic.

Snape still lived in fear of his dreams, for he had no control over them. At best he could block them out completely with the right potion. A careless nap in his worn armchair brought about a most uncomfortable dream in which he found Davindra had decided she would rather have Harry Potter, the local celebrity, tutor her studies. He could see her clearly as she tilted her sharp nose into the air and turned from him so quickly that her hair fanned out to brush against his chest. She strode away, arm in arm with the victorious looking half-breed in glasses. Snape awoke fumbling for his wand to aim at a vanishing impression in his brain. After that, it was no more naps during the day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once again his less than subtle hints that he could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts better than anyone else were ignored, and a total imbecile was brought in for the job. Snape seethed inside at the affront.

Gilderoy Lockhart. He was a poof parading around as a dragon slayer. Snape would have bet a year's supply of Polyjuice Potion that he hadn't the nerve to so much as step on a bug.

In the Great Hall the students gathered for the beginning of the year feast and house sorting. Snape found himself running uncharacteristically late. The fact was, he hadn't even wanted to be in the Great Hall with nauseating Lockhart and his throngs of fans, so he had found himself heavily engrossed in reading that afternoon's edition of the Evening Prophet, which caused the time to pleasantly slip away. Now he had to nearly run to make it before the house sorting was over. Not wanting to look as if he was anything but purposefully timed, Snape slowed to a walk, smoothing his cloak as he approached the hall.

Stopping to survey the mass of students, his eyes scanned the crowd. He was looking for her. The Ravenclaw table was a jumble of busy, hopping, clamoring kids. But at the end sat a thin, tall girl whose straight black hair hung like a curtain down her back. She talked cheerily with another girl at her side. Snape watched Davindra laugh, her head thrown back and eyes squeezed in delight. After, a wide smile showing straight, snowy teeth remained. Suddenly, her head cocked as if something out of the air called to her. Wide, pale jade eyes scanned the room until she had turned around to stare across the span of the hall and lighted upon Snape, peering around the wide doorway .

For a moment that seemed to be suspended in time, they looked at one another. The intensity of her gaze nearly took him off balance. His hand searched for the stability of the doorframe. Had he forgotten how overwhelming she could be when she wanted? Or was it possible that she had refined her ability to overpower someone with a single look? Snape hoped the icy calm of his expression showed nothing of his inner chaos. She simply smiled.

The sound of familiar voices shook Snape from his trance, and he turned to see the illustrious Harry Potter and his shambling sidekick, Ron Weasley, pulling into Hogwarts quite late. Snape sunk back into the shadows to hear their conversation and to set his trap.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first day of classes, Snape scanned the student list for third year Potions and felt an unsurprising twinge of dread at seeing Davindra's name once again. He was certain that she would curse his roll book for the full seven years. He hoped that Madame Collins had given Davindra the much needed lecture they had discussed that summer, as it would make the upcoming year easier if he didn't have to fight for her time and attention. He also hoped the subject of "appropriate" behavior had been broached, for he felt a sickening weakness in his stomach at the thought of experiencing more vivid dreams.

Standing outside his classroom as the third years filed in, Snape watched for the familiar raven head among the crowd. She was near the end of the group, walking with another classmate, again talking and laughing as if her mind were filled with nothing but frilly, girlish thoughts. The moment she crossed close to Snape, she slowed, and her look changed to a cool gaze that passed over him like water. This close he could see that her newest growth spurt had the top of her head almost to the bridge of his nose. Her hair was drawn back into a complicated twist that exposed all of her long slim neck. Snape pulled his eyes away from the ivory skin above her collar to glare coldly as she passed.

"Professor," she purred in greeting.

She and her friend then fell into a fit of giggles as they entered the classroom.

Their mocking gave him a good excuse to slam the door very hard behind him after he entered the room himself.

As everyone sat taking down their list of potion supplies for the year, which he purposely rattled off faster than most could write, Snape paced beside Davindra's desk.

"I said Costic Root, Miss Collins, not Cosmic Root," he snapped.

When she looked up to give him her best unimpressed sigh, he said very quietly, "See me after class."

He caught the nudge and snicker from her deskmate and Davindra's own wry, lopsided smile.

After everyone else had left the room, Snape stood at his desk staring coldly at Davindra who sat with her arms casually crossed on the table. Slowly, her eyes blinked as she gazed at him through inky lashes, and a smile played at her lips. How he hated that smile.

"I'm sure you think you are very clever, Miss Collins," Snape spoke quietly. "However, your grandmother still believes you are in need of tutoring. I assume she spoke with you at length about what is to be expected of you if we are to again endure each other's company for an extended amount of time?"

"Of course, Professor." Her face fell into a mask of sincerity as she leaned forward to display her eagerness. "As I told you at the end of last term, I am ready to learn everything you have to show me. I won't disappoint you."

For just one second there was a blaze to her eyes as she left a pregnant pause to hang between them, then she shyly cast her glance to the floor. "And I know you still think I had something to do with breaking into your chambers last year, but I swear to you I'm innocent."

He had a strange feeling that everything she said had a double meaning just sitting below the surface, mocking him, beckoning him to follow down a treacherous path that would only lead to damnation.

"You're no more innocent than a Knockturn Alley gutter cat." He kept his calm and his distance. "The agreement shall be that you are to be on time at all times to your regularly scheduled tutoring sessions, unless otherwise stated by me. You are to do the lessons and tasks I have planned for you, and do them in the way and in the time frame I set for you. There will be heavy punishment for infractions to the rules. There will be no exceptions. Do you understand?"

She nodded calmly, and her eyes spoke no more challenges.

"We begin this Friday evening at six o'clock," he said, turning to his desk.

"Friday? But..," she began with a sputter.

"NO exceptions to the rules," he shouted as he spun around.

Davindra straightened in her chair, her lips pressed into a thin line of resentment, but she didn't speak a word. She simply nodded her head once.

"You may go." Snape turned again to his desk and sat down to bury his nose in some papers so he wouldn't have to see her proud, haughty walk as she left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Friday evening as planned Davindra showed up at Snape's office, not looking particularly happy.

"Why the long face, Miss Collins," he quipped. "Did I upset your social calendar?"

She didn't respond. It was her game of freezing him out, as she was known to do when she was angry with him. She simply walked into the office and stood behind a chair, awaiting his instruction.

"Don't look so glum, we'll have a fine time, I'm sure." Now he smiled coldly. "Follow me."

Snape stood and beckoned her to follow him down the narrow, winding stairs that took them deep to the catacombs of storage beneath the Potions classroom and office.

"What are we going to be doing here?" she asked as they descended further. "Aren't we working on the Black Veil Serum? That's what's next in the book."

"There is a special task you will be helping me with this year."

Finally coming to the end of the stairs they stood at the opening to a series of rooms. Cobwebs, dust, dirt, and mustiness clung to the air. Snape felt Davindra close behind him as though the dark frightened her. A callous glance over his shoulder caused her to step back.

"Incendio Lumos," Snape commanded, and the torches that lined the stone walls, blazed with fire, lighting the long rooms with a tepid glow.

"You are to start here," he said, stepping into the first room, which was so cluttered with long discarded furniture, books, trunks, and other strange objects that a slim walkway was barely navigable.

"Start what?" she asked in exasperation.

"The search for some very important parchments. They contain spells written by a former Hogwarts student and belong in a book that is now in my possession."

"I'm supposed to find parchment in this?" she asked, her fingers tentatively opening the cover of one of the thousands of books that sat stacked in high piles. The book gave a hiss like a striking snake before she pulled away and again stepped behind Snape.

"Yes," he said mildly. "You should get started right away, then."

He turned to go. "You are looking for loose or rolled parchment hidden anywhere here. It should be hand written and not very neatly either. It should also be spells that you may not recognize or perhaps recognize as illicit. Come to me right away when you find something or in three hours time."

He left her standing amongst the ruins, a shocked and disgusted look on her face. A smirk was hidden from her view as he climbed back to his office.

'Let Madame Collins put that in her cauldron and cook it,' he thought.

At the nine o'clock hour, Snape heard the sound of slow, heavy footsteps at the catacomb stairs. Davindra appeared, looking tired, dirty, and infinitely less happy than when she arrived.

"What did you find?" Snape asked calmly as he continued his review of the first years' homework.

"Dust, spiders, rats the size of centaurs, books that bite, growl and spew foul language, and one haunted cabinet that wants me to speak with Dumbledore about a reassignment!" She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Snape. "But no parchment leafs with forbidden spells."

Snape screwed his mouth into a frown to keep from laughing at her indignation. Dirt smeared her face and clothes, her hair had begun to come unfastened from its long braid, and cobwebs still clung to her sleeves.

"Hmmm," he sounded. "We'll continue the search on Monday evening. You are dismissed."

"I have to do this again?" she shouted.

"Are you forgetting the rules of our arrangement, Miss Collins? You will do as I say, when I say, with no questions."

"I figured we would at least be doing potions work, not a crazy scavenger hunt in the bowels of hell! I think Grandmother would be interested to know what your lesson plan entails."

Her eyes flashed threateningly at him as she stood with her arms crossed in challenge.

Refusing to be flustered by her threat, Snape continued to work as he quietly replied.

"Your grandmother assured me your tutoring was completely in my hands, with no interference. She also promised me you would give no more resistance." He raised his eyebrows at her. "If you must know, the book could possibly hold some important spells that would be valuable additions to your education. I believe you may be ready to move beyond traditional Hogwarts' text. And I believe that is indeed what your grandmother had in mind when we spoke this past summer."

Davindra's suspicious look softened as she thought out the possibilities.

"But you said you would never teach me spells forbidden by the Ministry," she quizzed.

"I think, in these changing and increasingly dangerous times, the degree of legitimacy should be weighed against the benefit when educating oneself for the future."

She continued to ponder, but the hard edge was taken from her stance and expression, which told Snape he had reached her.

"It may take forever to find anything in that mess," she sighed tiredly.

"Then maybe you should start at 5 o'clock on Monday."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The searches continued with no avail. Davindra grew increasingly aggravated at the lack of work they did together during their twice weekly tutorial sessions. Snape would send her to the catacombs and work in his office until she returned, tired, dirty, and asking when they were going to get back to spell and potion work. His reply was when they found the missing papers.

Davindra needed no extra tutoring to be far and away one of the best potions students he had. She suffered nothing by not spending a few extra nights a week hunched over a cauldron or books. Her use as a worker drone to find the missing pages to Tom Riddle's spell book was a much better use of her time and of his.

Unsure if Davindra had complained to Madame Collins about the lack of actual tutoring during the sessions, Snape consoled himself that no Howler messages from owls or unexpected visits would mean he was safe for now. In the mean time, he continued to promise Davindra the instruction of many wondrous and even dark spells if she only found the missing pieces for him.

But then, the Chamber was opened. Once again the infallible Harry Potter was at the center of the mystery. Though Snape doubted his involvement in the petrifying of Filch's cat or in writing the message on the wall, he was certain there was some connection. The "Heir" was mentioned, which intrigued Snape the most. Now everyone was prattling about the Chamber of Secrets. Students were suddenly poking their noses in books they wouldn't have touched for an honest school assignment before and asking questions of any teacher or staff who would talk to them. Snape shut down most attempts at discussion before they even began.

Davindra was no different. The moment she stepped into his office on the Friday night after the incident, her first question was, "So what is the Chamber of Secrets?"

Snape gave her an irritated eye roll. "It's a stupid myth created to scare students into behaving themselves."

"No, it's not," she snorted in challenge. "If it were fake, then Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall wouldn't be looking so worried. And who is this 'Heir of Slytherin'?"

"Don't you have something you should be looking for right about now?" Snape asked venomously as he clenched his teeth.

Davindra sighed dramatically. "Fine, don't tell me. I'll just ask Grandmother."

Snape hated the idea of dragging Madame Collins into this. Probably she knew already about the incident involving Mrs. Norris and the message on the wall, but the less reason for her to actually arrive at Hogwarts to torment him further, the better.

"Alright, you impudent little harpy. You repeat this to anyone, and I'll have you skinning blood slugs for a month," he growled as he tossed his quill into the ink pot with a resounding 'plop.' "This might not be a particularly pleasant story to hear, given your background," a sneer followed. "But Salazar Slytherin didn't like the idea of anyone but purebloods being admitted to Hogwarts."

"Then I'm guessing you don't like this story either," she said with a vicious smile.

Snape gave a cold, flat stare and said nothing for a moment.

'That fucking old bat,' he thought as he imagined a nice torture curse right between Madame Collins's eyes in return for her gossip.

"Do you want me to finish?" Snape finally drawled, not wanting to show how much the comment cut him.

Davindra nodded modestly, relinquishing the verbal combat.

"The debate over the issue with the other three founders caused Salazar to leave Hogwarts. It's rumored that he built a 'Chamber of Secrets' in the school that could only be opened by the true 'Heir of Slytherin.' Inside is supposed to be some horrible thing that could unleash devastation on the school. So you see, it's really a very outlandish story that no one I know of has ever been able to substantiate."

"So who did Filch's cat and the writing?" she asked.

"Who knows, probably Potter," Snape said, going back to his work and wishing her away.

"You don't believe it's Potter. You said so yourself."

"Miss Collins," his voice rose to fill the office. "This is a stupid subject on which I will not continue. Now go down to the catacombs, and do what you are here for before I make good on that blood slug threat!"

She shrugged her shoulders, sighed casually, then finally took to the stairs, leaving Snape to nurse his wrath and humiliation in peace.

At some point during the evening, Snape found himself taking the stairs down to the catacombs. His wand light illuminating the narrow stone slabs as they appeared before him. At the end, he saw Davindra standing in one of the cluttered rooms, her back to him, her head bent over a large book. Silently he crept behind her. The black hair hung down her back like a cloak of velvet. He reached out to touch it, and Davindra stiffened slightly, but didn't turn. Pushing the heavy hair to the side exposed the back of her pale neck, which she seemed to enjoy seductively showing with the upswept hairstyles she had adopted that year. Soft, wispy tendrils lay at the nape. He bent down and pressed his lips to the warm hollow at the base of her skull, breathing in her warm, flowery scent. Again he dared another kiss, and then another, with no rebuke from her. With each touch of his lips, Snape's mouth traveled, finally stopping at the spot just behind her ear. His tongue slipped out to trace around the delicate folds. She turned to him then and gazed momentarily into his eyes before she pressed her lips and body to his. The feel of her mouth passionately moving against his, eagerly returning the stroke of his tongue, made him feel electric and alive.

"Professor?" she said. "Professor!"

Suddenly, Snape found himself nearly falling out of the chair at his desk. Catching himself before he was dumped onto the floor, he glimpsed Davindra standing at his side, looking at him quizzically.

"Are you alright? Were you asleep?"

"How long have you been standing there?" he barked as he tried to shake his head clear of the dreamy fog he had been so deeply immersed in.

"Just a second or two. I think I have something."

Finally daring to look at her, he found she was holding a curled piece of parchment. He snatched it away, but momentarily looked into her face to see if she had once again been using Veela tricks to cause his highly disturbing dream. Her look was eyebrows raised with curiosity and interest, but her eyes held none of the mocking he associated with her mind games.

"Is it what we've been looking for?" she asked with expectation.

The parchment did appear to match what was in the book, the handwriting looked similar. Coacto Fides was the potion. Snape searched his mind for familiarity. 'To force no doubt.' In other words, a potion to make someone unquestioningly believe whatever you tell them. 'How very clever,' Snape considered. 'I wonder if it works? And too bad it can't be slipped to every student here.'

The dream now forgotten, Snape congratulated Davindra on completing this much of the task. She seemed pleased with herself, then her smile faltered.

"There's more, isn't there?" she asked dejectedly.

"Undoubtedly," Snape said, still examining the steps listed for the potion. "And while you continue to search the catacombs until you've covered every corner to find if any more lost pages are tucked away there, I will begin on this potion."

Davindra gasped in disgust. "I thought you said I could do whatever spell we found?"

Snape eyed her over the parchment and smirked. "Patience, Miss Collins, you will be involved. However, I won't risk letting you take the reins completely on a potion with which I have no prior experience. At best, it might not work at all. At worst it might be deadly. But when the time comes, you will be involved." He smiled coldly at her weary expression. "Now, in honor of your great success this evening, you are excused half an hour early."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This time a student was petrified by mysterious ways, and Hogwarts was beginning to twitch with a nervous fear. Teachers and students were looking around every corner before they rounded it. It was ordered that no one walk anywhere alone, and a new curfew was tightly watched. It gave Davindra far less time to search for the missing spells, but Snape more time to work on the new potion. The alarming dream was pushed from his mind in lieu of more pressing matters. This time, he did believe his own brain had been playing tricks on him, and he began a round of stimulant serums to stave off any sleepiness that might creep up on him during quiet times. At night the sleeping potion blocked out everything for a solid five hours, allowing him peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.

The Dueling Club was a ridiculous notion given that there was no idea what anyone would be fighting against. However, Dumbledore supported it, and Snape was not going to allow that inept Lockhart to bask in the limelight of something he knew nothing about. If the students were to receive accurate instruction on how to defend themselves against anything more threatening than a paper cut, Snape would have to intervene. Lockhart awarded him the dubious title of his "assistant."

A resounding Expelliarmus knocked Lockhart on his pompous ass and made Snape feel much better. He even noticed Davindra smiled approvingly at him as he strode away from the flattened Lockhart. Her eyes continued to track his movements, with a look of admiration that he found strangely intoxicating as he stood above everyone in the room. It wasn't hard to continue to look like a magical genius compared to the idiot in satin breeches.

By far the most educational thing discovered during the demonstration was that Harry Potter was a Parselmouth. Perhaps the "Heir of Slytherin" theory needed closer examination.

Next, he had to field questions from Davindra about Parselmouths and why Harry Potter being one seemed to vex him so. How she was able to sneak around his Occlumency and detect when he was seething about something apart from just the regular annoyances of his life was a mystery to him. But she never failed to pick up on his moods, however subtle they were. It infuriated him to distraction and made him wonder if she possessed talents of Legilimency.

By Christmas another student and the Gryffindor ghost had suffered from the malicious petrifaction. Even Dumbledore would no longer dismiss the idea of the Chamber of Secrets being open once again. More security meant fewer freedoms for everyone, including Snape, who had to spend time ferrying groups of students to and from various locations when what he wanted was time to work on the new potion. It was almost ready to begin. It had taken a while to gather all the supplies, but a quick owl to Madame Collins had gotten him the few rare ingredients he needed. There was the soaking time for the Mummy's Tongue and drying time for the Howler Leaves and later a curing time for the finished batch. 'How did Tom Riddle have the time or the supplies to do this?' Snape wondered.

Davindra stopped in almost every day to see what the progress was on the potion. Snape did take time to explain what the next steps were and even allowed her to assist in some of the mixing and preparation when he was certain the results wouldn't be harmful.

Her enthusiasm helped fuel her search for the remaining parchments, and in quick succession she found two more missing pages, which she joyously handed to Snape, never uttering a word about the dirt and grime that clung to her.

When he pronounced them authentic, she let out an uncharacteristic, girlish squeak, threw her arms around him, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Before he could react, she was bounding around the room in a gleeful dance that ended when she dropped into his desk chair.

"Calm yourself, Miss Collins," he sneered, wiping the dampness from his cheek with the back of his hand. "You never fail to ignore propriety, do you? And as enthusiastic as this discovery is, there is still more to be found."

"Nooooooo," she moaned as she covered her face with her dirty hands.

"Don't whine so. Since you have covered almost all of the catacombs, you do at least get to move on to the Restricted Section of the library."

"How am I going to get into the Restricted Section?" she asked with furrowed brows. "You need a..."

"Permission note from a professor," Snape finished for her, pointing to himself.

Again she was smiling, wickedly, with a sparkle to her eyes like cut glass.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater were petrified coming from the library, even Snape didn't feel comfortable letting Davindra roam freely there. He took to searching the library himself for the missing parchments, which was when he didn't have a watchful eye over his own shoulder. Now she was the one constantly questioning his chances of success in finding the lost pages amongst the thousands of books in the Restricted Section under Ancient Spells.

What was most astounding to Snape was that people were thinking that that immense oaf, Hagrid, could have been the one to open the Chamber of Secrets years ago, much less now. Sending him to Azkaban was like swatting a fly with Avada Kedavra. But Snape did understand Lucius Malfoy's intention when he managed to pressure the entire Ministry to have Dumbledore ousted. It was a bold move, but perhaps a bit premature and undoubtedly a short-lived triumph. In the mean time, McGonagall hovered around more than usual. Snape did his best to stay clear of not just her, but whatever beast was turning everyone to stone, and anyone else who might question all his recent activities in the library.

One late evening Snape was stooped over a table in the darkest corner of the Restricted Section, thumbing through a dusty copy of "Dark Draughts," when he sensed someone standing near him. Davindra was leaning against the nearest bookcase, her arms crossed and her head cocked as though she had been studying him for some time.

"Miss Collins, it is well past curfew. The only possible excuse for you to be out of the Ravenclaw Tower at this time of night would be because of fire, troll invasion, or Dementor attack."

"I got an owl from Grandmother today," she said with a glint in her eye.

Snape gave her a flat stare. "That's startling news," he quipped. "I'll alert the Ministry at once. Now go back to your room before I turn you in for violation of curfew."

He attempted to continue his work, but he felt her standing almost against his side.

"She told me something that I thought was rather odd, but as I've thought about it all day, I realize she was sending us a clue." Her breathy and rushed delivery told him that she was busting with anticipation.

"What are you talking about?" It was impossible to keep the irritability out of his tone.

"'Wares for the Uncommon Witch' by Lucrecia Bornstock-Hallard," she announced triumphantly. "Grandmother mentioned that I should read this and that a copy would be in the library."

Snape continued to gaze at her with a patronizing, impatient look.

"It's not in the general selection," she said, wide eyed. "It's restricted."

Her message was finally clear. Snape stepped closer and confronted her with harsh, icy eyes.

"What have you been telling your grandmother about our work?" he demanded.

Caught off guard by his obvious lack of appreciation for the helpful lead, she looked dejected.

"Just that we've been looking for new spells to do," she insisted. But then her expression changed, and a knowing smile came across her face. "You don't want Grandmother to know what we are doing, do you?" She smirked with her newly found knowledge.

Snape glared back and wished he could strike that look from her face forever. Suddenly it occurred to him that Madame Collins had known from the beginning that he would enlist Davindra to help him in the search for the lost spells. His guts twisted with the realization that he had once again been a puppet doing exactly what the manipulative old witch wanted him to do.

"For your information," he said with a cold calm, "it was her book! She gave it to me, and she hid the spells herself. It was terribly generous of her to allow us months of searching through filth and dirt before she decided to bestow us with this morsel."

Slamming "Dark Draughts" closed, Snape stormed off to find the Bornstock-Hallard book.

"Us?" Davindra spat. "I don't recall you spending all that time in those dungeons, pawing through rubbish and fighting off rats."

He turned with a snap of his cloak. "And you can thank your grandmother for that. If she would have simply told me where the lost parchments were, it would have spared us both a lot of energy and time. But I'm assuming she found this send-up much more entertaining."

A sound of exasperation came from Davindra as Snape began his search for the book.

Before either could make further comment, a sound from several rows down made them both freeze. Tentatively, with furrowed brow, Davindra headed to the end of aisle to peek around the corner. But something in Snape told him that even venturing that far was dangerous. He grabbed Davindra before she could expose herself to whatever might be prowling amongst them and dragged her away from the end of the shelves. One arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her feet from the ground while the other hand covered her mouth as she attempted a protest to his restrain. Quickly he shuffled them both into a dark corner between a forgotten display case and cobweb draped book stacks.

If it was another member of Hogwarts' staff, even Filch, Snape would have a great deal of explaining to do concerning his own activities there, not to mention the presence of a wayward Ravenclaw. If it was whatever was causing people to be petrified, they would have even bigger troubles.

In the cold dark of their hiding spot, Davindra twisted against him momentarily until Snape spoke very softly in her ear.

"It is imperative you keep silent. Our lives may depend upon it."

Her struggling stopped and her ragged, hurried breath against his hand slowed. She nodded her understanding, and Snape released his hand from her mouth. But he didn't let her go. He encircled her shoulders and pressed her tightly against him. There was a strange and powerful comfort in having his arms around her as danger skirted perhaps seconds away from them. His cheek continued to rest against the side of her head as his ears strained for more sounds. A noise like something heavy being slowly dragged across the stone floor traveled around them. Davindra stiffened, and her hands gripped the arms that held her.

Unable to see around the corner, Snape could only make guesses as to what could be out there searching for them. With a chilling certainty he knew it wasn't Filch nor any other person. He wondered if she could feel his heart as it beat harder and faster in his chest. Perceptible even through the heavy sleeve of his coat, hers was racing.

Davindra started to whisper fearfully. But he silenced her with a harsh, quick squeeze.

Again he spoke with barely an audible tone. "Not a word."

His lips inadvertently brushed against her ear, and a flash of the dream that assaulted him several months ago came rushing back. If not for the imminent danger awaiting them, he might have dropped her like an armful of fire. But he held on only tighter, telling himself this was not a dream to fear. The real danger was out there, searching for them. Perhaps closing in.

The dragging, rustling sound would pause, then continue, then pause, as if stopping to look, to search, before it moved on.

Both waited, neither breathed. Eventually the sound grew fainter until it wasn't heard at all. Still they didn't dare move. Snape and Davindra stood with their bodies pressed together, their arms entangled, in the silence of the library. He wasn't sure how long they waited, holding on to each other. And he wasn't sure if the reluctance to let go was fed by fear or by pleasure. Finally Davindra let out a long, shaky sigh of relief and let her head fall backward to rest on Snape's shoulder, her arms falling to her sides. Her body completely relaxed against his as if drained of all energy. He would have felt the same if not for the fact that the sensation of her weight against the length of his body sent a current of tension flowing through him.

"What was that?" she asked in a whisper.

Forcing his arms to unwind from around her, he felt the blood rush back into them as he gently pushed her away. He hated to admit that he didn't know what had driven an experienced dark arts practitioner and former Death Eater running scared into a dark corner. But he didn't dare speculate about what had been out there.

"I'm not sure," he said as he cautiously stepped around the corner to survey the surroundings. It once again seemed deserted and silent.

Snape knew they needed to get out of there. Davindra still stayed near the corner, her large green eyes darting about nervously. He had never seen her so unsteady before.

Quickly he found "Wares for the Uncommon Witch" and held it upside down, giving it a shake. Two pieces of parchment fluttered to the floor. Without even looking at them, Snape scooped them up and tucked them into his cloak. He then turned and motioned for Davindra to come to him. She scurried to his side and immediately latched onto his arm.

Together they navigated the rows of shelves, taking a few steps, stopping to look both ways and then hurrying on. The long walk back to Ravenclaw Tower was even trickier for they had to watch out for the other staff patrolling the halls. Twice they ducked behind large statues to keep from being seen. Once at the portrait entrance, Snape turned to address her.

"You have to get yourself in from here, and if you are caught, I will disavow all knowledge of seeing you this evening."

She looked at him solemnly but nodded.

Leaning close he spoke calmly but with resolute words. "Tell no one what happened tonight."

Again she nodded.

He took in one last look of her before he turned to make his careful way back to his chambers and to view the final two spells.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Snape hadn't so much as glanced at the papers until he was safely in his office behind closed doors. Only then did he pull them from his cloak and sit at his desk to study them. Though the first potion Davindra had uncovered was quite intriguing, the second two were simple calming drafts. Snape wondered why Madame Collins had gone to the trouble of hiding them.

The two before him now were more peculiar. The recognizable scratchings of Tom Riddle were there, but also a few other hands had made notes on these spells. Ingredients and instructions were crossed out and others added. Someone had either corrected Riddle's work or attempted the incantations themselves and made their own improvements. Snape couldn't place the handwritings, but a bothersome thought crept through his brain when he considered Madame Collins's true intention when she gave him the spell book.

The first spell, for a Vision Well, had many notes written around it and several revisions made to its process. It was a spell Snape had heard of but never found complete instructions for. It worked much like a Pensieve, but instead of seeing things from someone's memory, one could see what another person was doing as of that moment. A spy glass, of sorts. It looked complicated and time consuming, and required a binding amulet, but it could indeed be useful one day.

The second parchment held not quite a spell or potion but notes on how to possibly reverse an Unbreakable Vow. Riddle had obviously been trying to reason out incantations, spells and other instructions that might repel the effects of a sealed promise. Again the different hand writings mingled together in an attempt to fine tune the process. Unlike the other spells and potions, this was the only one incomplete. And here it waited for someone to continue the search for the rest of the pieces.

Snape considered the thought and believed that it might be a more than worthy endeavor to try to finish what Tom Riddle had started.

The Coacto Fides potion was nearly cured, and Davindra hovered about every day to check its progress. They argued about how to test it. Davindra offered to be the test subject. Until she said it, Snape had briefly considered just slipping it to her. After, he realized that it was far too dangerous. Plus the enjoyment had been taken out of the subterfuge. It was best that she not be involved at all in the testing. She raged against his decision, but he was firm that using the potion on anyone in Hogwarts would raise suspicion, especially since the results were uncertain.

Snape slipped off to Hogsmeade to try it out on an unsuspecting wretch who wouldn't raise many questions if they turned into a rambling idiot or ended up dead. It wasn't hard to find and befriend a drunken sod as long as Snape's money kept flowing along with the Firewhisky. And of course it was never noticed when a small bottle was tipped into the man's drink. Carefully Snape watched the dirty, ragged, old warlock as he drank heartily and licked his lips. He smiled through tangled whiskers and seemed to drift into a calm, happy state.

"Now, who did ye tell me ye were again?" he slurred at Snape.

"Rita Skeeter, from the Daily Prophet," Snape said carefully.

Most everyone, especially in Hogsmeade, recognized the audacious and brash reporter. Even a down and out drunk like this one should be able to see the difference between a dark, brooding Potions teacher from Hogwarts and a loud, nosey female.

But the man looked at Snape for only a moment before he gave a resolute, "Right! I remember now."

Snape decided to test further. "You know, drinking dog piss really isn't good for you," he said calmly, eyeing the raised Firewhisky glass.

The man's gnarled eyebrows furrowed with a puzzled look. Then he smelled the glass and made a revolted face. Tossing the drink on the floor, he reddened angrily.

"As much as I come here, ye'd think they'd treat me a mite better than that!" he spat.

Snape leaned in. "The bartender is laughing at the trick he just pulled on you. It's quite rude if you ask me."

The man turned around to glare at the bartender, who was doing nothing but cleaning a glass and seemingly lost in thought.

"Aye, he is!" the drunk blustered. "I'll teach him a thing or two about tricks!"

Getting up, the man knocked his chair aside and drew his wand to unleash a flash upon the bartender that knocked him against the back wall of shelves with bottles and glasses. A loud battle cry filled the air, and the drunk charged into the mess as other's joined in to either help the bartender or hold off the attacker.

Snape took that moment to slip out unnoticed, and with more than fair confidence that the potion was a success.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

On his return to the school, Snape's glee about the potion's success was dashed when he was informed that the Chamber of Secrets had indeed been opened, and a student had been taken into its bowels.

Ludicrous Lockhart was bragging on how he could easily defeat whatever had gotten loose and kidnapped the child when the staff called his bluff. His eyes had nearly popped from his head. Snape couldn't keep the wickedly amused sneer from his face as Lockhart attempted to smile and wave his way out of his own boastings.

There was a mad dash to round up students to send home the very next day for fear of their safety. Snape hurried to his office to set things in order to prepare Slytherin House.

Rounding the corner of his desk, he spotted Davindra curled up in his worn armchair in the corner. She looked as though she had been asleep, but her eyes blinked rapidly as she straightened herself and stretched.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed. "Everyone is to be sent home. You should be in your house tower."

"Send everyone home?" she yawned. "Why?"

"The Chamber." Snape began gathering his student log. "It appears it's open and a student has been taken there."

"But I thought you said..."

"It doesn't matter what I said!" he shouted at her impatiently. "You need to be in Ravenclaw, and I do not need to be standing here arguing with you."

He grabbed her arm and started dragging her toward the door.

"But I wanted to find out about the potion," she insisted, digging her heels into the floor. "Did it work? What happened?"

He stopped and looked at her. For a moment he himself had almost forgotten about the small victory.

"Yes. It seemed to have worked."

Her face lit up as though it were Christmas morning.

"But," he added strongly, "we don't know about the after effects. For all we know the poor sod is lying dead facedown in the street as we speak. However, the initial response was just as we had hoped."

Davindra beamed, and Snape was afraid she might try to throw herself at him again, so he tightened his grip on her arm.

"Go, Miss Collins," he commanded as he opened the door and shoved her out.

But something made him pause for a moment when he thought of Ginny Weasley taken from these very halls.

"Wait," he said.

Reaching to his desk, he grabbed the rest of his books, then headed out with Davindra, closing his door behind him. He took her all the way to Ravenclaw Tower without letting go of her arm for a second.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Again Potter saved the day single handedly before anyone else could even devise a plan of action. There was great relief when it was learned the Basilisk of the Chamber of Secrets had been killed and could no longer cause harm to anyone. The Chamber would indeed be sealed for good this time.

Strangely, what had started all the problems was a diary owned by Tom Riddle. Snape thought it peculiar that, in the same year he acquired a book owned and written by Tom Riddle, Harry Potter should also do the same. The Dark Lord had made another attempt to return and had come much closer this time. It made the spell book in Snape's possession much more valuable and ominous. Intriguing still was the idea that he could be a link to the Dark Lord simply by having the book in his possession. Perhaps Madame Collins had known that when she gave the book to him. Perhaps it had been her intention all along.

Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts in time to bestow more honors upon Harry Potter. Lockhart got what he deserved with a Memory Erasing Charm gone awry and with the report that he had stolen every one of his grand adventures from the mind of someone else. He was a magnificent fraud. Snape waited until he was alone in his office with the door securely closed to let out a gleeful cackle and truly enjoy the irony of justice.

He anticipated Davindra making her usual stop by his office before she left for the train home. When he sensed a quiet presence at his door, he expected to find her standing there with her typical look of amused appraisal. Instead he found Madame Collins giving him the same look.

"Did I surprise you, Severus?" she asked with a smile.

"Hardly. Anytime I feel a prickle at the back of my neck I can generally assume it's you or that insufferable granddaughter of yours." Going back to the work at his desk, he tried to look as disinterested in her as possible.

"To what do I owe a visit this time? Is there another bribe awaiting me?" He now looked up at her with an icy gaze. "Perhaps it is straight forward blackmail for me to do your bidding."

Madame Collins gave her best expression of deep wounding at his words. "How can you think such cruel things about me!"

"Your acting is as bad as your granddaughter's," Snape remarked. "Best to just say what it is you want this time, Madame, and dispense with the dramatics."

"You are still such a spoilsport, aren't you?" She smirked as she sat on the edge of his desk. "Actually, I am here concerning something you want."

"If you were concerned with what I really wanted, then you wouldn't be here," he said through clinched teeth.

The woman sighed with frustration. "And I came all this way to give you a little bit of information that could prove very useful to you."

"Yes, yes, and in return I tutor your granddaughter. I've seen this melodrama before." He continued to appear engaged in the papers before him, though he hadn't even bothered to comprehend what it was he was looking at.

She leaned over him to say in a quiet voice edged with excitement, "There is an old friend of yours who will be paying a visit soon."

His head didn't rise but his dark eyes did. "What are you blathering about?"

"I have it from a very good source that someone from your past will be showing up at Hogwarts. And there could be trouble ahead."

Again he gave her his blank, cold stare.

She returned it. "Well, you won't be getting the Defense Against the Dark Arts position again next year, I'm afraid. I know because I actually came to plead your case to Dumbledore."

"And he already has someone to replace Gilderoy Lockhart? It wasn't a day ago they dragged him out of here babbling like a lunatic!" Snape raged mostly to himself as he angrily tossed the papers aside. Then he looked to the woman on his desk. "You were actually going to suggest me for the position? Was that so I would be ingratiated to return a favor for yet another year?"

Madame Collins smiled cleverly and hopped off his desk to prowl about his office, as was her practice when she wanted to draw out his attention.

"Yes, that would have been a neat little turn of events. But it's not to be. It seems that Remus Lupin has won the prized spot as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Lupin?" Snape gasped. "He's a werewolf! One week a month he's not be fit to be around human beings, much less children!"

Jumping up from his chair, Snape also walked the room to try to hide the nervous, angry energy that coursed through him.

"I swear, they will put Argus Filch in that position before I'll ever get a chance," he mumbled as he paced.

"Don't fret," Madame Collins cooed. "I will stay vigilant in my quest to vault you to that position you so greatly desire. And perhaps even beyond, if you wish."

She gave a little laugh as she started to leave and allow him to seethe in peace, but then stopped before she reached the door.

"I hear congratulations are in order."

Snape gave her a questioning look.

"Coacto Fides," she said with a knowing glint in her eye. "I thought that one might appeal to you foremost."

"Did your granddaughter keep you informed of all the interesting activities that happened this year?" It was hard to not sound as annoyed and anxious as he really was.

"Oh, you know teenagers," she said with the flick of her hand. "They never want to tell you anything."

It shouldn't have come as any shock that she would know everything that happened throughout the year, but he felt a knot in his gut at never knowing for sure just how she managed to find out all she did.

"Severus," she sighed. "Don't be upset. I knew you'd enlist Davindra to help you find the missing spells. And I counted on the fact that you would attempt at least one if not all of them. Marvelous learning experience for Davi, really."

His glare was all that answered her.

"Maybe I don't have the Defense Against the Dark Arts position to hand to you, but I do have this."

She held up a slender vial between her fingers.

If she expected him to come to her to retrieve it like a trained dog, she was mistaken. Snape leaned against the wall glowering until she finally dropped the glass tube on his desk.

She smiled all the while, her eyes dancing emeralds. "I ran across that the other day. You should find it informative. But you'll need a Pensieve. We'll speak again soon, I'm sure."

Then she was out the door.

He waited as long as he could, staring at the vial. Finally, with disgust, he gave in to his curiosity and walked to the desk to take the tube in his hand. He held it up to the dim afternoon light and saw the liquidy silver strands coiling round in the narrow space. A memory waiting to be relived.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Latin Spell translations --

Coacto -- to force

Fides -- belief