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Eagle and Serpent by Plethra

Format: Short story
Chapters: 6
Word Count: 8,598
Status: Abandoned

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Mild Language, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Strong Violence

Genres: Romance, Action, Drama
Characters: Draco, Ginny, Harry, Hermione, OC, Ron, Snape, Voldemort
Pairings: Others

First Published: 06/13/2004
Last Chapter: 06/27/2004
Last Updated: 06/27/2004

Snape is puzzeled by a student of his. She is brilliant and funny and everybody loves her, yet he know that she has a dark secret. Her eyes are closed and unreadable, and the more Snape comes to know her, the more he realizes that she is not as she appears to the outside world. Set in the Trio's 7th year and during the second war, it is a time of sacrifice and sorrow, but somehow love wrangles its way into the picture. Please read and review!

Chapter 1: Detention...Again
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A/N: This is my first fic and I hope you like it! Please, PLEASE review and give me your honest opinion, as I would like to improve my writing. I intend to male this a full-length story with over 20 chapters, so keep checking back to see if I’ve updated. Now that school’s out, I hope to update every week or so. Enjoy!

Disclaimer thingy: I am not Rowling, nor will I ever be. Just deal with it. The plot is mine, all mine, but many of the characters and setting are not. I know you can handle it.

Alannah knew she had done it this time. Snape stood over her looking most displeased.
“I want to speak to you after class, Miss Leskevitch,” he said in a calm voice. Alannah had not been paying attention to the potions master when he had been lecturing about God only knew when he had asked her about the key ingredient to a wolfs bane potion. She had not even been listening to what he had asked her, so she just told him that she had not the slightest clue and continued talking to her friend Gabbi about what to wear to the next Hogsmead weekend. Snape had not been at all pleased.
“Even you cannot be this thick, Leskevitch,” he had snapped irritably. “The answer should be right under you nose.”
“So I guess it’s far more obvious to you, seeing as how your nose is so much bigger than the rest of ours. You must be able to fit more information ‘right under’ it,” she had replied. She knew that she shouldn’t have said it and that it was very rude, but it had been too brilliant a comment to ignore. Well, in about 20 minutes, she would no doubt pay for her bit of fun.
“He didn’t look too happy, did he,” she said nonchalantly to Gabbi as Snape stalked away.
“No. Look, ‘Lannah, you should really cut back on the smart mouth stuff. I know you’re brilliant at it and everything, but Snape’s not going to tolerate much more of it. I’m surprised that you’ve gotten off as easy as you have the past few times,” Gabbi told her, looking worried. Alannah snorted, but didn’t say anything. If she was honest with herself, she knew that she would end up in serious trouble sooner or later if she kept up like she was. She had already been referred to the headmaster twice last year for this kind of behavior in Potions, and although the year was young yet, she knew that Snape would see to it that she went there again if she couldn’t learn to keep her mouth shut once and a while. She looked down at the blank piece of parchment on which she had taken no notes. She sighed and began to copy down the information on wolfs bane potions form the chalkboard.
When the bell rang, Alannah shoved her textbook into her bag and slowly walked up to Snape’s desk, telling Gabbi to head to lunch and that she would meet her later. When she reached the professor’s desk, Snape did not look up. He just continued reading the student essay that he was grading and gave no sign that he even saw Alannah. After a few seconds, Alannah cleared her throat loudly. Snape’s head snapped up and he looked up at her.
“Miss, Leskevitch,” he said in a perfectly controlled voice, sounding like he was quite enjoying the experience of making her life miserable.
“You wanted to see me, Sir,” Alannah replied politely.
“I did. Miss Leskevitch, you have an unfortunate habit of saying whatever pops into your young head, even, and it seems, especially, if it is ridiculously rude,” he told her. “I recall having sent you several times to the headmaster about this little hobby of yours, and he did very little. You’re lucky that you are a good student Leskevitch, or I would have many other teachers backing me on my dislike of your lack of respect. Am I wrong when I think that you have this pig-headedness in other classes as well as mine?”
Yes, Sir,” Alannah said without expression. She decided that simple answers were best. She didn’t want to give the foul-tempered potions master any more reasons to torment her.
“Well, we are going to have to do something about this,” said Snape, a nasty smile touching the corners of his mouth. “I think I’ll give you a month of detention, and 20 points from Ravenclaw.
“But professor!” Alannah cried, not being able to believe that even Snape would be so cruel.
“Miss Leskevitch,” Snape continued over her. “You will serve a month of detention, and if, in the future, you have another slip of the toung, you will serve another month of detention. Do I make myself clear?
“Yes, Sir,” Alannah replied numbly.
“Now, I want you to be at my rooms at 8:00 sharp.”
“Your rooms, Sir?” Alannah asked. Normally detentions were served in the teacher’s office, sometimes in a classroom, but never in the teacher’s private rooms.
“Yes, my rooms, Leskevitch. Please listen the first time. I loath having to repeat myself,” said Snape, annoyed. It was obvious that Alannah was not going to get any more information. She turned to go, the realized that she didn’t even know where Snape’s rooms were.
“Um, Professor...” she said timidly.
“Yes, what is it?” he snapped.
“Where exactly are your rooms?” she asked. Snape stood up and walked into his office. Alannah followed, perplexed. Did Snape live in his office? The professor strode over to a portion of a wall that was not cover by jars of repulsive, pickled...things. Instead, an elegant green velvet curtain hid the stone from view. Snape pulled back the curtain to reveal a dark mahogany door with a brass plaque reading: Professor Severus J. Snape, Potions Master, Slytherin Head of House.
“This is the door to my private rooms. It will be open. 8:00, Leskevitch. Do not be late,” he said coldly.
“I never am,” said Alannah in a voice of transparent sugar.

Snape watched her walk away. She was an enigma. It wasn’t that she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut; she was very smart and often bordering on brilliant. No, she knew when here smart remarks would get her into trouble, but she didn’t seem intimidated by the threat of detention. Alannah didn’t seem to be afraid of much. Snape remembered the defiance in those dark green eyes, and remembered how closed they seemed. Yes, there was defiance reflected in the green orbs, but that was all. Severus Snape was very good at reading people, but Alannah was unreadable. Other than the surface emotions that showed in her face and actions, her eyes were blank, reflecting nothing but that immediate feeling. There was a wall being those intense eyes that prevented the spectator from seeing into the soul of this girl. It would be interesting to find out what Alannah Leskevitch’s secrets were. What could perfect, loved, brilliant Leskevitch have to conceal? The professor sighed. He knew that people could mask what they were and hide a dark past, the worst past. Yes, he knew. Snape sat back down at his desk and resumed grading (and failing) the essays of his first-year class, still pondering the mystery of Alannah Leskevitch.

Chapter 2: Potty and the Weasel
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Here’s the second chapter. Sorry it took so long to get up, but I was having MAJOR Internet problems all last week, and then the site was down, so I wasn’t able to post it. Now that I am back online, I hope to be able to update more often. Thanks to the people that reviewed my last chapter, I love you!

Potty and the Weasel

Alannah walked out of Snape’s office feeling like she had been sentenced to the gallows. A month of detention with everybody’s least favorite teacher, just for saying what everybody else was thinking. It hardly seemed fair. But then, Snape was never one to doll out “fair” punishments. As she walked towards the Great Hall, she became aware that somebody had fallen into step next to her. She turned to look at who it was and felt the annoyance of the last hour’s events boiling up inside her. Now she had to deal with Harry Potter.
“Can I help you?” she snapped at The Boy Who Lived.
“Hi, Alannah,” he said nervously. She saw him glance back at his faithful little followers, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Seemingly with renewed confidence, he continued.
“I was wondering if you noticed that there was a Hogsmead trip this coming weekend.”
“Yes, Potter. I did notice that. Believe it or not, I am capable of reading the notices that the teachers put up to inform us about such events,” Alannah answered in a voice of forced calm.
“So,” said Harry, obviously not quite sure how to take her sarcasm. “Would you want to go to the Three Broomsticks with me for a butter beer?” Alannah stared at him. Did Potter honestly think that she would even consider going on a date with him? Well, he must be dimmer than I thought
“I’m sorry, Potter,” she said. “I would love to join you and your little fan club for a kiddy drink, but unfortunately, I have to serve detention with Professor Snape, and therefore will be unable to attend.” With that, she pivoted on her heel and began to stride away in the direction of the Great Hall. As she walked away, she heard Ron say, “Ah, rotten luck, mate. You just had to set your sights on a tough one, huh?” Alannah wheeled around and lunged at Ron. She grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him down so they were eye to eye, her wand tip jammed against his chest over his heart.
“You think that’s funny, do you, Weasel Breath?” she hissed. “You think that just because I am a girl, that gives you the right to think that I am no more than an object, a prize, or something else here for your enjoyment purposes alone?”
“Um, well...” Ron spluttered.
“I am a human being, Weasel,” Alannah growled in a venomous tone. “I am a human being, and I expect to be treated as such. If I ever, EVER hear you make another comment reminiscent of the one you made several minutes ago, you will cease to possess the physical strength to sit upright, let alone make offensive and sexist remarks.” She spat in Ron’s face before pushing him backwards with surprising force for one so slight of build and sending him sprawling across the marble floor. Without a backwards glance, she marched towards the Ravenclaw table, feeling much better about life in general.

Alannah slid into a seat between her friends Gabbi and Nora.
“So, what did the foul little grease-ball do to you?” Nora asked, referring to Snape, as she had no idea what had transpired between Alannah and Weasley. Alannah was violently dumping a ridiculous amount of potatoes on her plate and seemed to be taking great pleasure in spearing them with her fork and chewing them with surprising velocity.
“Easy there, no need to take it out on the vegetables,” said Gabbi, obviously a bit horrified that her friend was being so cruel to the cooked goods. “So, what’s the verdict?” she prompted.
“I’ve got a month of detention,” Alannah them. “I have to be at his private rooms at eight tonight and for another thirty nights to follow,” she said gloomily.
“A MONTH!!!” Nora raged. “Why the bloody hell did he give you a MONTH, just for smart-mouthing about his damn nose. He’s just so fucking touchy about that bloody nose of his...” Alannah and Gabbi let her have a rant; they knew by now that it was pointless to stop her and that they could just think about other things now. Alannah looked at her two friends; Nora still happily rambling on about the injustice of Snape’s punishment and Gabbi contentedly munching her lunch. They weren’t really her friends. Sure, she talked to them and went to classes with them and spent most of her time with them, but they weren’t really friends. Nora and Gabbi were more accessories, things to be worn to complete an image. Alannah didn’t tell them anything about her personal life, the life she led outside of Hogwarts. Not that she didn’t think that they wouldn’t care, they would. No, Alannah kept her life secret because she knew that people would pity her and try to help her and make her feel better. While Famous Potter might lap that sort of treatment up like a hungry cat does milk, it just made Alannah feel ill. She couldn’t stand people fussing over her. After all, she didn’t really need people. She was perfectly happy just being by herself, with a few acquaintances. The concept of friends was for cowards, people who preferred to inflict their misery on others rather than face it head on alone. When it came down to it, you face everything alone. No matter whom you tell, it is still your problem. You can’t really share your experiences with anybody. They will always be your alone.
“Alannah?” Nora was talking to her.
“Yes? Sorry, what did you say?” said Alannah, jolting back to reality.
“I said, do you have any idea why Snape wants you to go to his rooms? Is it just me, or does that seem a little kinky?” Alannah smiled and chuckled at Nora’s bluntness.
“I have no idea. He wasn’t in a mood to give much information when I talked to him after class today,” Alannah told her.
“He rarely is in the mood to make your life easier in any way, shape, or form,” Gabbi muttered. “Anyways, he probably just wants in your pants, Alannah.”
“Please Gabbi, I’m trying to eat! You have now sent me to a VERY dark place and I may be forced to hurl up that last bite,” Nora groaned. Alannah laughed again.
“I doubt that Snape wants any more action than he gets, which at this point must be reaching into the negatives. I bet some troll of a girl broke his heart when he was in school and now he’s either gay or living a life of abstinence. He’s a bit of an odd fellow, isn’t he,” said Alannah, still chortling.
“Odd is being very kind, ‘Lanna,” said Gabbi. “What time must you be in Sir Abstinence’s chamber tonight anyway?”
“Eight,” answered Alannah.
What about your Head Girl patrols with Malfoy?” asked Nora.
“We’re done by seven-thirty. It might be tight, but I can make it. His Greasiness knows that.”
“So, how are you and dear old Draco,” Nora persisted. “We all know that you are one of the few girls above fourth-year that he hasn’t fucked, and it wasn’t for lack of trying last year. Why did you play hard-to-get anyway? He’s quite dishy, and he’s got loads of money in his family.” Alannah sighed. Would they ever let this go?
“I don’t know,” she said. “It used to be because his father was kissing Voldie’s evil black ass, but now that he’s not kissing anyone’s ass, I’m not really sure. He really is gorgeous, isn’t he?”
“Gorgeous?!?” shouted Gabbi, outraged. “If anyone’s shag-worthy at this school, it’s Draco Malfoy. He is among the best-looking young men to ever walk this earth, not to mention that he’s the heir to more money than that the Queen of England herself. And he has impeccable fashion sense. That is a bit disturbing, actually. How perfect his hair always is, his robes are never crumpled, and when he’s not in his school robes, he’s always in black or dark green, so sexy—“
“Okay, I get it!” said Alannah, cutting off Gabbi’s rant about the perfection of Draco Malfoy.
“He obviously fancies you,” said Nora. “I say, when life hands you lemons...”
“I was clearly being an utter prat when I chased him off last year,” Alannah mused. “I just didn’t really want to date a Death Eater’s son, if you know what I mean.”
“Well, he’s now a former Death Eater’s son,” stated Gabbi. “What did happen between Lovely Lucius and You-Know-Who?”
“I guess Mr. Malfoy just got sick of kissing Voldie’s feet, quite literally,” said Alannah.
“Don’t you know any details?” Gabbi asked.
“Does anybody? Look, I’d better get going to Transfiguration. If I’m late again, McGonagall will throw a tantrum that could break England in two. I’ll see you two at dinner,” Alannah told them. Neither Gabbi nor Nora was taking N.E.W.T. Transfiguration. She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, heading in the direction of her next class, hoping that she would not run into Potter and his fan club on the way.

So, what did you think? I know these first chapters are moving a bit slow, but things will speed up after I have sort of set the stage for the juicy stuff. Please review as your opinion means the world to me, and I will be updating much more often. I still need a beta or two, so contact me if you’re into that kind of stuff. Love y’all!

Chapter 3: Not the Average Night
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Ok, so this chapter is a bloody piece of shit. People are so OOC that it’s not even worth thinking about. How do you manage to make an original character OOC you ask? I have no idea, but somehow I managed it. Not to mention Snape *shivers in disgust* It’s really quite pathetic, but I figured I’d post it so I can get on with the story and go back and make it better later. Please forgive me! Oh, and I couldn’t get the little < i >’s to work, so thoughts of people are surrounded by *’s, got it? Good. And forward we move.

Snape looked at his watch. “Damn,” he muttered. It was 8:10, and he knew better than to think Alannah would be late. He was now regretting leaving the door to his rooms open; he had a fleeting vision of Alannah sitting happily at his desk whilst burning his bed to ashes. Snape quickened his pace. He turned into the corridor that led to the Potions classroom and stopped dead. There was music floating up the hallway. Somebody was playing the piano. As he approached the open door to his rooms, he saw Alannah seated at his small grand piano, apparently unaware that he was standing in the doorway. He was about to tell her off when he paused and listened to the music that was coming out of the instrument. It was beautiful. Snape had never heard anybody play quite like this girl in his chamber. The sad, sorrowful melody washed over him and he lost all thought of extending Alannah’s detention sentence. It sounded like Chopin, though he didn’t recognize the piece. It didn’t matter though. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he was seeing into Alannah’s soul. The music was full of emotion. There was sorrow and longing and pain. Pain such as he could never imagine, and he began to see images of his own childhood.

*His mother was healing a nasty cut on his back with a poke from her wand. His mother screaming with his father standing over her, his wand outstretched. Everybody in black dress robes at a funeral, watching as an ebony coffin was lowered into the earth at the base of a headstone reading “Katerina Lute Snape…*

Snape was snapped out of his trance as he realized that Alannah had stopped playing. She stood up and looked shocked to see her professor there.

“Sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there…are you alright, sir?” she asked, a look of mild concern crossing her forest-colored eyes. Snape suddenly realized that there were tears on his face.

*Why am I getting so bloody emotional? It was just Chopin,* he thought, hurriedly wiping his face with the sleeve of his robe.

“I’m fine, Miss Leskevitch,” he answered curtly. “I don’t recall giving you permission to play my piano,” he said coldly.

“I’m sorry sir, it’s just that you weren’t here, and I saw the piano and I’ve always loved to play. I don’t get to much at school and…” her voice trailed off.

“It’s okay. You play very well. Just don’t go around playing with people’s most prized possessions. It might make them nervous,” said Snape, in an uncharacteristically kind voice. “Now, I did not summon you here to talk about your talent at the keyboard,” he continued, lapsing back into his curt, unfriendly tone. “I have some second-year exams that I need graded. You will grade them all before you leave tonight.”

“But professor, you have over 100 second years and I have homework and—“

“You should have thought of that before you opened you large and overconfident mouth this morning in class, Leskevitch,” the potions master snapped. “Now, I have an answer key for you. I have that corner desk set up with the key and student exams. I will be very suspicious if too many of the little half-wits get obscenely high scores.”

“Um sir?” Alannah said.

“Yes, what is it,” he snapped.

“Why do I have to grade these in your private study? Why not in your office?”

“Because if you try to take the answer key out of my rooms, it will explode and singe off your eyebrows,” he replied.

Alannah walked across the darkly decorated study to a small desk and seated herself in the high-backed chair. Snape watched as she pulled the pile of exams towards her.

“If you need anything, I will be in my work room,” he said, gesturing to a door on the opposite side of the small study. Alannah nodded and turned back to the papers in front of her.

Several hours later, Snape’s attention was torn away from the potion he was brewing as he heard violent sobbing from his study, where Alannah was working.

“What the hell...” he murmured as he rushed from his workroom. As he entered the study, he saw Alannah in a heap on the floor, in obvious distress. He raced to her and knelt down beside her.

“Alannah, what’s wrong?” he said, concerned. Alannah was not the type to loose control like this.

“Professor, I’m sorry—I fell asleep—woke up—I’LL KILL THAT BASTARD!!” she screamed.

Snape did not have much practice in comforting people, and Alannah’s unusual display of emotion caught him completely off guard. For lack of a better thing to do, he wrapped his arms around the girl and held her close to him.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, it was just a dream,” he whispered, having absolutely no idea what had come over him to make him so compassionate towards another human being. The fumes from that potion must have been stronger than he thought.

“That’s just it, it wasn’t just a dream,” Alannah sobbed into his shoulder.

Snape had no idea what she was talking about, so he just held her closer. It was oddly comforting to him somehow. It felt natural to cradle this young woman against his chest, and even if she was miserable, he enjoyed the feeling of her body against his. She wasn’t resistant at all. She just let him hold her and allowed herself to soak his robes with tears. Perhaps it was the fact that Alannah had always been so emotionless around him and he was relieved to see that she could cry like a normal human being, or perhaps it was that he had not been so physically close to a person since...but that was not worth thinking about. He noticed that her sobs had subsided, but now she was shivering. He stood up, with Alannah still clinging to him, and walked into his bedroom. He sidled over to the linen cabinet and pulled out a soft fleece blanket, one arm remaining around Alannah’s shoulders. Snape sat her down on his bed and wrapped the blanket tightly around her.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry—“ she began, but Snape silenced her by putting a finger against her lips. He sat down next to her and put his arms around her again and felt her lean against him.

“I haven’t broken down like that in a long time,” she said softly. “I guess I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Take what?” he asked, still feeling shivers racking her slender body.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her voice hardening slightly. He sighed. He had expected that.

“I understand,” he said. “You seem cold,” he continued. “Do you want a potion to warm you up?”

“No,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I’ll be alright.” Without really being aware of what he was doing, Snape began gently rubbing the small of her back with his thumb. It took a moment before he realized that she had fallen asleep. Her breathing was steady and she was no longer shivering. He bent down slightly and touched his lips to the top of her head, wondering what he should do. It seemed wrong to wake her, and he didn’t think that she should spend the night alone in her Head Girl room, in case she was troubled by more terrifying dreams. He took the blanket from around her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. When she sowed no signs of wakefulness, he gently picked her up and, after pulling back the covers of his bed, lay her on the soft sheets fully clothed. After tucking the goose-down comforter around her, he looked at her for a few moments. She looked so peaceful, her dark-gold hair pulled out of her face with a simple ponytail, her dark lashes framing her eyelids like velvet fringe. Gently, he tried to probe her mind in an attempt to find out what was troubling her. Normally, it was fairly easy to do so while a person was asleep, but this was not the case. It was like trying to stand up after falling down while ice-skating. The harder he tried, the more he slipped and slid on the surface of her mind. They were always just out of reach. He could sense her thoughts and memories, but each time he reached for them, he was sent sprawling farther away. After several tries, he withdrew, looking at this girl in his bed with newfound respect. It took great skill to be able to block somebody so entirely while sleeping. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then walked to the foot of the bed and picked up the dropped fleece blanket.

Snape settled himself in the green sofa against the wall, thinking that he could ask Alannah about her troubles tomorrow.

And we reach the end of that piece of crap. Don’t even bother reviewing, I know it’s rubbish. Next chapters will be better, I promise.

Chapter 4: More Questions than Answers
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Ok, here’s the next chapter. It’s not too great either, but hey, I’m just doing this for a lark. I still need betas, so if you’re into that kind of thing…And sorry if Draco is a bit of a weak character in this segment; he’ll get better, I promise.

More Questions Than Answers

Alannah woke and panicked. *Where the hell am I?* It took her a moment before she remembered the prior nights events. Just as she was sitting up in hopes of sneaking off to her own room, Snape appeared at the door of the bedroom holding a cup of tea.

“What happened? Why am I still here?” she demanded. Snape forced the teacup into her hands. She tried to take a sip, but it was still too hot.

“You fell asleep,” he said. “I thought it a bad idea to leave you alone after what happened earlier.”

“I need to get to class. What time is it?” she asked. Snape chuckled and Alannah stared. She had never heard Snape laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing, it’s just that you must really be flustered,” he said in an amused voice. “It’s Saturday. You don’t have any classes.”

She sank back on the bed. She was losing it.

“The rest of the school is in Hogsmead,” Snape was saying. “If you want to go, you’d better get going soon.”

“I don’t want to go,” she said. “I never really liked Hogsmead, and I have an ass-load of homework.”

“Language, Leskevitch,” Snape said absently. “Do you want to tell me what happened last night that diminished you to a blubbering fool, or will I have to extract the memories directly from your mind?”

“No, I don’t want to tell you, and you can’t read my thoughts; I’ve already seen to that,” she said, annoyed that the professor was not willing to just let her leave.

“I know. You block your mind very well for one so young. I tried to see what was troubling you last night while you were sleeping.”


“Don’t use that language around me, Leskevitch,” Snape hissed. “And you would do well to control that temper. I didn’t see any of your thoughts; you guard them too well.”

“It’s the principle, you bastard,” said Alannah, obviously still furious, though she was no longer screaming.

“Congratulations, Miss Leskevitch, you have just earned yourself another month of detention.”

Alannah threw the teacup on the ground and strode out of the room without looking back at Snape.

Alannah was so angry she couldn’t see straight. She flung open the door to her room and collapsed on the bed, breathing deeply. The last thing she wanted was to have her potions teacher pity her. Before last night, she would have said that Snape could not pity anybody, but when she had been so miserable, he had been so...human. She never imagined that the ill-tempered professor could be so kind and gentle. Part of her knew that he just wanted o help her, and he thought that by knowing what had her screaming he could help her. She just didn’t want his help, didn’t need it. Alannah tried to do homework, but she couln’t force her brain to concentrate. With a sigh, she pushed aside her Defense Against the Dark Arts book and began changing into breeches and boots.

Not may students used the stables, preferring that ridicules sport quiditch to the time-honored practice of horse-back-riding. Alannah found the presence of the large animals soothing, and there was nothing like the thrill of jumping a large oxar. Last year, she had gritted her teeth and spent an enormous amount of gold on a beautiful Friesian mare named Brio. As Alannah walked to Brio’s stall, she noticed that there was somebody in the tack room. Curious who would be riding while everybody else was in Hogsmead, she opened the door to the tack room and found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy. He was exceedingly good-looking in black breeches and a dark green jumper.

“Oh, hello Alannah,” he said, looking only mildly surprised to see her.

“Hello Draco. Glad to see I’m not the only one renouncing Hogsmead today,” she said.

“I just didn’t much feel like shopping and the usual, how about you?”

“Same. You wouldn’t want to join me there a little later, would you? I know I tried to woo you last year and it didn’t really work, but I thought now that I’m with the Order and all...”

“You’re with the Order?” Alannah said sharply. “The Order of the Phoenix?”
Draco looked confused.

“Yes, is there another order?”

“I thought you couldn’t join the Order until you graduated,” said Alannah.

“Well, I guess they changed the rules, because Potter, Granger, Weasley, and yours truly are all members doing anti-Voldie work.”

Alannah frowned. She would love to join, to make those bastards of the Dark Lord feel pain and humiliation, but she didn’t know that she could. Now though...perhaps she could talk to Dumbledore...

“Alannah? How about two. I could meet you in the Great Hall and we could head over to the Three Broomsticks and grab a drink?”

“Yes, that would be lovely, Draco,” she said, only half-hearing what he was saying.

Alannah no longer felt like riding. Instead, she found herself in the dungeon corridor that led to Snape’s classroom. When she did not see him in either the classroom or his office, she pulled aside the curtain in front of the door to his rooms and knocked loudly on the dark wood. Snape flung open the door and looked surprised.

“Hello, Miss Leskevitch, may I help you?” he said, sounding bewildered.

“Can I come in? I need to ask you something?” she said.

“I don’t know—“ he started, but Alannah had already walked past him. “What did you want?” he asked weakly.

“I want to join the Order,” she said.

“No,” Snape said simply.

“Why not?” she said heatedly. “Malfoy and Potter, along with Potter’s little puppets are working as part of it. Why can’t I?”

“Miss, Leskevitch, what you must understand is that the activities of Voldemort concern them greatly. Potter is the main target of the Dark Lord, and because they are his friends, Granger and Weasley are in danger as well. Malfoy is obviously useful, as he can inform us of what certain Death Eaters are up to, seeing as how half Slytherin House comes from a Dark family,” he explained.

“So why can’t I join as well?” Alannah persisted.

“Because business having to do with the Order or the Dark Lord does not concern you, Leskevitch.”

“Oh? And how would you know that?”

“Because—“ Snape began, but Alannah cut him off.

“Lift up the hem of my shirt in the back,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“Just do it.”

Snape walked around to the other side of her and carefully lifted up the bottom of her blue sweater. He gasped. There was a long scar that disappeared up around the other side of her shoulder. A thick, white line, inturupting the smooth skin that covered her back. But that was not all. There, on the small of her back, was another scar. But it was not just any scar, it was the Dark Mark.

Alright, there you have it. Sorry it’s a bit of a cliffhanger, but I promise things will be explained. You will find out more about the Draco/Lucius/Voldie thing too, and maybe even a bit about our favorite Potions Master. As always, please review, and a big hug to those of you that already have. Oh, and don’t think that Alannah’s scar is some sort of thing like Potter’s scar. It’s quite different.

Chapter 5: Brandy and Memories
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Brandy and Memories

“Explain this, Leskevitch,” said Snape, sounding rather terrified.

“Don’t sound so sympathetic,” said Alannah, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s not every day that I find one of my students has had the Dark Mark carved into their back, so you’ll forgive my shock,” he said dryly. “Please, Alannah, tell me how this happened,” he added, his voice softening slightly.

“I can’t,” she said, looking miserable. “I can’t talk about’s...I just can’t.” Snape put a hand on her shoulder.

“I know it’s not easy, but it’s obvious you want me to know the story behind this, or you wouldn’t have showed me,” he said.

Alannah looked up at him. Her eyes were still blank and emotionless, but he knew that she was trying to break through the barriers that he had veiling his own mind. He fought her off, though it was difficult. Finally, she looked away.

“I can’t tell you, but I could open my mind, let you see my memories,” she said. “It would be easier for me, and you could see for yourself why I want to join the Order.”

“Aright, if you are willing,” Snape said slowly.

“Um, Professor?”


“Do you have any brandy?” she asked in a slightly guilty voice. Snape raised an eyebrow. “It would help me to lower the wall I have around my mind,” she explained.

“And I’ll need something stronger than pumpkin juice afterwards,” she added rather sheepishly. Snape nodded and walked into a small room off the bedroom.

He came back into the study with a large brandy bottle and two glasses. He placed everything on the dark coffee table and brushed aside the books that cluttered it. He seated himself and filled both glasses with the dark liquid, gesturing for Alannah to sit down as well. She did, and swirled her glass several times before draining it. Snape watched as she closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at him.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Just like normal. Like you’re tying to see my thoughts. It will be easier because the things you need to see are already on the surface.”

Snape nodded, and then he looked into Alannah’s dark green eyes and gently probed her thoughts. He found the scene before him. He was seeing Alannah’s memories at last.

Sorry this chapter is a bit short. Don’t worry; you’ll find out everything about Alannah’s scars and her dream, I just decided to put it in a different chapter. Deal with it. As always, please review.

Chapter 6: A Meeting With Death
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A Meeting of Death

Snape was standing in the center of a ring of people in black cloaks and masks. He knew this scene all too well: it was a Death Eater meeting. The Dark Lord, as always, stood in the center, but this time, there was somebody else with him. It took Snape a moment before he recognized Alannah. Her long, dark gold hair, which she usually wore back and out of her face, was tangled and mused around her dirt and blood-streaked face. Her shirt and jeans were in tatters, barely concealing her undergarments. Voldemort was holding her very tightly around the arm, his fingernails digging in to her flesh and drawing blood.

“This is Pronteros’s brat, who is as foolish as her twit of a father to come and meddle in what doesn’t concern her,” he was telling the circle of masked wizards. “Pronteros was a fool and a coward. He thought he could take matters into his own hands. Needless to say, he was wrong.”

The Death Eaters laughed. Alannah was struggling to release herself from Voldemort’s grasp, but he just tightened his hold, and more of Alannah’s blood spattered the ground.

“I was going to finish her off, as I did her father,” he continued, “But when I realized she was a virgin, I thought I’d bring her back here for my faithful Death Eaters to play with.”

Alannah struggled more, this time kicking out at Voldemort, but he jumped out of her range, still holding on to her arm.

“Now, now, Alannah,” he cooed. “None of that, my girl. We’re doing you a favor. You didn’t want to die a virgin, did you?” As he talked, he slowly pulled Alannah closer to him.

“You bastard,” she hissed, and spat in his face. Voldemort laughed softly.

“Bastard, you say? Yes, I am. But you are too, are you not?” Alannah looked at him with a hatred so intense that Snape flinched.

“Crucio,” the Dark Lord said.

Snape looked back at Alannah, expecting to see her on the ground, writhing in agony, as most did, but she was still standing. She had her hands clenched, her knuckles white, and she was biting her bottom lip, but she did not collapse on the ground, nor did she cry out. As he watched, she bit through her lip, and it began to bleed, a scarlet stream falling down her chin. Her knees buckled and she sank onto the ground as Voldemort lifted the curse.

“You have the nerve to call me a bastard,” he said in a deadly whisper, “You, who have your mother’s surname because your father didn’t love either of you enough to even be around while you were growing up. And yet, you come here with him. You were willing to die for a man that you did not even know. He abandoned you, and yet you would have DIED for him. Did you think that he would have tried to save you? He would have sat back and watched you die.”

“I didn’t do it for my father,” Alannah growled. “I came to avenge my mother. Your followers tortured, raped, and murdered her, and I watched every sick minute of it. What kind of freak encourages that?!? I was nine years old; I thought that people were safe since Precious Potter ‘defeated’ you, but I was wrong. They still did that in YOUR name. So I came here to drag you to the gates of Hell in my mother’s name. My mother died to save me. She let them take her so they wouldn’t touch me. I will see to it that she didn’t die in vain.” Voldemort laughed again.

“A noble speech, little eagle,” he said. “You think your mother loved you? You think that she had a choice whether my Death Eaters killed you or not? No. She died because she didn’t have a choice, and it was only luck that saved you. Do you even think that your mother even wanted you to begin with?” Voldemort moved closer to where Alannah knelt on the ground. “If it weren’t for me, you would have never been born.”

“I always knew you were not quite sane, but now I know you’re mental,” Alannah spat, and Snape smiled. Even when facing certain death, Alannah was still a smart-ass.

“You think your father was some kind of saint, do you girl?” the Dark Lord asked her.

“He had his faults, and I can’t say that I ever loved him, but he was a good man,” Alannah replied. “He dedicated his life to kill you, so on principle, I can’t hate him.”

The circle of Death Eaters laughed, as did Voldemort.

“Little eagle, did you ever wonder why your heroic father didn’t join the Order of the Phoenix along with the rest of Dumbledore’s bats?” he asked.

“He didn’t like Dumbledore,” Alannah said. Again, cruel laughter swept around the circle.

“Yes,” said Voldemort, “Not may Death Eaters do.”

“What?” said Alannah sharply.

“Your wonderful father was working with me, little eagle. He was a Death Eater. He raped your mother nine months before you were born on my orders, he had the bitch that birthed his child…disposed of, and he brought you here tonight on my orders.”

“You’re lying,” said Alannah blankly. More laughter.

“I can assure you that he was,” said Voldemort. “McNair, bring Pronteros’s body here, and the eagle can see with her own eyes.”

One of the masked wizards left the circle and came back a minute later dragging a body by its legs. The man’s eyes were open and staring; he was quite clearly dead. Voldemort walked over to the corpse and pulled back the left sleeve of his robes. Clearly visible against the white skin of his arm was a black tattoo showing a skull with a snake in its mouth. Alannah recoiled from her father’s body looking horrified.

“No,” she whispered. “Why? Why did he bring me here tonight,” she asked

“Your father, in his brief appearances in your life, taught you much. Your skill with weapons of all kinds, Dark Magic, self-defense, among other fighting techniques; he taught all to you. I remember him telling me how astounded he was at how quickly you learned. When he realized that you held your mother’s death against me and had sworn vengeance, he said that the only way to deal with you was to kill you. He said that you were too powerful and too knowledgeable of the Dark Arts. I knew that you would be dangerous if you were to join Dumbledore, so we both agreed that we needed to lure you here and dispose of you before you were old enough to join the Order.”

Alannah was staring openly at Voldemort. The hatred still burned in her dark eyes, but when she spoke, it was with a quiet, controlled voice, as if she was merely curious about what the evil man before her was saying.

“If he was a Death Eater, why did you kill him?” she asked. The Dark Lord smiled a cruel smile.

“Haven’t you ever heard that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is as cruel to his followers as he is to his enemies? Your father has been most unreliable lately. There was an instance that I will not go into where he almost gave away our plans to a ministry worker. Whether on accident or on purpose, I could not risk it happening again. He had to be killed.”

“You’re horrible,” Alannah whispered.

“No, I do what I must to have power. To have the world fear you, that is power. Now, my little eagle, come here,” said Voldemort.


“Now, my dear, don’t make this difficult.”

Voldemort took her hands and pulled her to her feet. Alannah tried to back away, but he held on, yanking her towards him. She fell against his chest and he began tearing the remains of her shirt away. Again Alannah tried to break away, but she wasn’t strong enough to break the grip of the Dark Lord. He pressed his lips to hers, and it appeared that she bit his top lip, because when he drew away, it was bleeding.

“Feisty now, aren’t we?” he said, licking the blood from his lips.

The Death Eaters roared with laughter as Voldemort forced Alannah onto the ground. Snape turned away. He could guess what happened next, and he didn’t want to watch. There was nothing he could do; this was Alannah’s memory. He felt ill as he heard the Dark Lord call forward certain Death Eaters to “play” with Alannah. He never heard her make a sound, but he was sure that she was fighting tooth and nail.

“Lucius, would you care to see how fierce the eagle really is?” asked Voldemort.

Snape’s blood ran cold. He had always thought that Lucius Malfoy was about as decent as Dark Wizards came. He had never been much involved in the rape and torture business of killing. He always used the killing curse first, and as a Death Eater, he couldn’t possibly be any kinder.

“No, I’d rather not, my Lord,” Snape heard Lucius say.

“Very well,” said Voldemort, sounding a little disappointed.

Snape looked back at Alannah to see her bruised and bleeding, trying to wriggle back into her ruined clothes. She looked up and saw Voldemort talking among his followers. She stood up and started to make a dash for the edge of the circle, but Voldemort caught her.

“Thought you’d try to make a break for it, did you?” he hissed. “Go ahead, try to run. They’ll catch you. You’re outnumbered, little eagle.”

“I hate you!” Alannah screamed.

A knife appeared out of nowhere in Voldemort’s hand. He slashed her back, and for the first time, Snape heard her give a small whimper. But Voldemort continued to cut her back.

“You hate me, little eagle?” he said. “Well, now you can die with my mark on your skin. Like father like daughter. Ironic, isn’t it?” he whispered.

Alannah struggled against him, but he hung on, still slashing the Dark Mark into her flesh. Her blood covered the ground and more splashed down as he watched.

When the Mark was finished, Voldemort let go of her for a second, and in that moment, Alannah’s foot made contact with his groin. As he doubled over in pain, Alannah streaked to the edge of the circle, and in the confusion, she managed to break through the Death Eaters. Snape was floating along beside her like a ghost, and he hear how labored her breathing was. It was amazing that she hadn’t already passed out from blood loss. He heard Voldemort scream “Get her!” and not long after, he heard pounding footsteps behind them. He turned and looked into a masked face. The Death Eater reached for Alannah and brought her down with him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, hurriedly.

Snape recognized the voice; it belonged to Lucius Malfoy.

“No,” she said.

“Of course you’re not. Look, can you dissaperate?”

“I don’t know...I can try...I’ve never done it before.” She said, her breathing getting harsher.

“Well,” said Lucius, “Now is a hell of a time to learn. They’ll kill you if you don’t. You can’t run in your current state. It doesn’t matter where you end up, as long as it’s not here.”

“What about you? And why the hell are you trying to help me? You’re one of them,” Alannah asked.

“You have to get out of here. Just go!” he said urgently. With a faint pop Alannah vanished, and at the same time, Snape’s study came into focus.

Sorry this was kind of a dark chapter, but there’s a reason for the rating. Again, this story is going to be rather tragic, so don’t read it if you can’t stand to see people get hurt and die. Just to ensure that I don’t lapse into happy thoughts during these darker chapters, I listen to Faure’s Requiem, which is among the most beautiful pieces of music ever written. It’s not as tragic and dark as some Requiems, but it still is a Requiem. Well, I’ll stop blubbering and go write the next chapter. Love y’all!