The Burning Pen

A Looping of the Scales by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 1

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 1 ~ What’s Going On?

As Snape headed for Slytherin house, he wrestled with his too heavy, too long and too-many-buttons robes.

”These aren’t even my blasted robes,” he fumed. “They must have stunned me, and obliviated me and oh, I’m going to—“

He stopped in front of the entrance way to Slytherin house.

”Salazar’s Slither,” he said.

Nothing happened.

”Salazar’s Slither.”

Salazar’s Slither! Who changed the password?” Snape hissed. Then he heard voices and slunk back into the shadows.

Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zambini walked up to the entrance.

”Serpensatia,” he said, the wall sliding back and the two Slytherins entering.

”Who are they?” Snape wondered to himself as he slipped in behind them.

They walked into the common room. Other students were there, studying, talking, playing chess and Snap. Draco entered with Blaise and paused as everyone seemed to be staring at him. He looked down at his robes in case there was something on them. He looked back up at his housemates.

”Why are you all staring at me?” he asked.

”We’re not staring at you, Draco, we’re staring at him,” Pansy Parkinson replied, pointing at someone behind him.

Draco turned to see a skinny, pale boy in too big robes looking back at him with a rather puzzled expression on his face. His hair was long, black, lank and badly cut and his nose was huge. He sort of looked like a young Snape.

”Hey, what are you doing in here?” he demanded as the Slytherins began to gather around him. “You just don’t walk into Slytherin house.”

”You do if you’re a Slytherin,” Snape replied, feeling for his wand and not finding it. Shit. It must still be in Slughorn’s lab, unless Potter took it.

”You’re not a Slytherin! Who are you? How’d you get in here?” Draco demanded.

”Never mind who I am. I don’t know who all of you are, but I’m going to my room to change my robes. Potter played another of his stupid pranks on me, for all I know—this is part of it. Now, get out of my way.”

Snape tried to push his way through the Slytherins, but they wouldn’t let him by.

”We don’t know who you are, but you’re not going anywhere but to the Headmistress. None of us recognize you—you don’t belong in Hogwarts at all! Grab him!”

The male Slytherins all leapt on Snape, wrestling his arms behind his back and forcing him up the corridor and out of Slytherin house, the witches and younger males following. Snape struggled helplessly, cursing them and demanding they let him go.

Curious students watched as they marched him up the marble stairwell, then through the narrow stairwell that led to the second floor corridor that opened on the shifting stairwells.

Goyle had him now.

”Keep struggling and over you’ll go,” the goonish Slytherin said, holding Snape close to the edge of the stairs as they changed landings.

”You big oaf!” Snape hissed impotently. He was being ganged up on again, and he had no idea who any of these people were, and he didn’t see a single familiar face in the entrance hall. Everyone had been strangers.

Finally they reached the floor where the Headmistress’ office was. The Grinning Gargoyle was already standing to the side. The Headmistress had an open door policy. All anyone had to do was knock.

“Come on, walk!” Goyle said, pushing Snape up the spiral stairwell, followed by Draco, Blaise and the rest of the Slytherins. Other students had joined in as well.

They arrived at the top of the stairs and Draco knocked on the door.

”Come in,” a female voice with a Scottish accent answered crisply.

Draco turned the knob and Goyle shoved Snape through the door as hard as he could. Snape stumbled in, catching himself on a large ornate desk. He whirled on them, furious.

”If I had my wand I’d slice you all into wriggling pieces!” he snarled at the frowning group of students.

”My word! What is this?” Minerva said, shocked at such a violent threat made right in front of her. “Who is this?”

”We don’t know, Headmistress. He just walked into Slytherin house as if he belonged there and tried to get past us,” Draco said, frowning. “He claims Potter did something to him.”

Snape was still facing Draco and the rest of the Slytherins, his chest rising and falling from the fury he felt. What was going on here?

”Potter? Harry Potter? You there, turn around,” Minerva ordered from her desk. “Let me see you.”

Snape turned, his black eyes narrowed as he looked at Minerva McGonagall.

“Not Harry Potter. James Potter!” he hissed at her. Then he asked,“Where’s the Headmaster?”

But Minerva didn’t speak at first as she slowly rose out of her chair, staring at the young man before her. Snape slowly cocked his head, recognizing her, kind of. But she looked different, much, much older now. Her hair had been black, but it was iron grey now. Still, she was wearing Tartan robes. She always wore Tartan.

“Professor—McGonagall?” he said weakly, blinking at her.

”That’s Headmistress McGonagall,” Draco snarled behind him.

“Draco—ssssh. That’s enough,” Minerva said, walking around the desk and staring at Snape in amazement. She drew close, her beady eyes taking in every detail of his face.

Minerva McGonagall began teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the year 1956. And she never forgot a student’s face. Particularly a gifted student’s face. Especially a gifted, troubled student’s face.

”Severus?” she said in a near whisper. “Is that—you?”

Snape blinked at her, an odd, nauseous feeling welling up in his belly at the look in her eyes. It was a horrified look, as if something were terribly, terribly wrong with him.

“Yes. I’m Severus,” he replied. “Severus Snape. What’s happened to you, professor? Did you take an aging elixir?”

There was an “oh,” and a soft thump as Minerva fainted dead away. Snape looked down at her, then turned to the Slytherins, who now all stared at him round-eyed. Every single student was pale and looked scared to death.

”What?” Snape hissed and they drew back as if he’d taken a swing at them.

If this was Snape, they were in a world of trouble. They had just manhandled their Head of House.

Behind Minerva’s desk, the portrait of Albus Dumbledore studied the young man before it, the blue eyes twinkling.

”Extraordinary,” it said softly.

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A/N: Just another little part. Thanks for reading.

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