Chapter 1
When Minerva stepped into her office, a sense of nostalgic memory hit her. The office of Dumbledore before her. And the office was unusually darker than before but comforting in a way. She sighed and walked over to her desk with stress. Knowing her desk and around it was all cluttered with piles of parchments and even more. It was simply stressful becoming a new Headmistress, especially after the war. She needed a rest. Once she got in front of her desk, she paused. Looking down at the sight with a perplexed bug-eyed expression.
The assortments of Minerva’s desk seemed to have straightened out from the last time she was there. The parchments on her desk once cluttered about were now all neatly in a pile. Her feathered quills in a new fancy holder. Ink carrier placed next to them. The desk of clutter and disorganization from the stress of becoming the new Headmistress was magically tidy. But it was not her doing. That’s what confused her. And not only the desk, but it seemed like the railings, drawers, shelves, and even the portraits were all assorted and straightened out.
She looked up from her desk and looked around the office in an almost frantic way. Not knowing who or what could’ve assorted out her desk. And as she glanced around, she noticed how tidy everything truly was. Tidier than before. The portraits that were once grim held a prideful look. Clearly proud from being straightened and even dusted. Except for Severus Snape’s portrait… He was the only one with a stony and grim expression. But his portrait never spoke or moved. Keeping a look of absolute silence. The type of silence that felt ghostly. As though a ghost portrait. Minerva stared up at Severus’s portrait for a long while. A sense of guilt washing through her once more. She never got over her guilt after finding out the truth. A sudden soft breeze from behind her caught her attention as she averted her gaze from Severus and to the door. An even more complex expression crossed her as there was nobody there, but her door had opened slightly.
“...Hello?”, she blurted out in a cautious voice.
There came no response, leaving Minerva in both relief and bewilderment.
—
Abnormal and unusual unknown behavior has increased significantly all-round Hogwarts after the war. It’s not as though anything was normal after the war, but it was of much distinct patterns. It wouldn’t ever go back to normal. No, there’s traces of memorial damage deep inside Hogwarts. In depth of the students. It would haunt the halls and minds of everybody and everything. No matter. And within the halls bustling with students seemed to have a deviant cold breeze. Passing through each student as though a reminder of the coldness... but it emitted a sense of warmth. The feeling of odd familiarity. As though knowing when you feel the breeze all is well. It would be daunting to feel and experience if not for the familiarity. Yet nobody could tell what exactly it was. It could’ve perhaps been peeves but no, peeves would’ve pranked the kids not protect them. Especially not from bullies.
An occurrence of this only happened recently. Nobody wanted to fight after the war, but it seemed inevitable in the school of wizarding and separated house rivalry. Neville was simply walking through the hallways, books to chest and head down. It was nothing new. But he was viewed higher than before. For he was proved a true Gryffindor. Though that didn’t seem to strike to a few as enough to not pick on him.
A sudden harsh shoulder bumped into his own, causing him to stumble and his books fell to the ground. Cluttering as parchment flew out across the hallways. And students kept walking as they stepped onto the parchments. Though there weren't many students nearby. No, really only the shy or harsh students seemed to be there. Neville was dumbfounded and looked up to who the harsh shoulder belonged to.
“A true Gryffindor are you?”, the Slytherin mocked as they stared down at him.
Before Neville could even think of a response, he felt the deviant cold breeze pass through him and towards the Slytherin. The sneer on the Slytherin turned into a surprised expression as they felt the newfound coldness against them. And without a blink, they suddenly felt themselves being propelled to a wall. Not too harshly but firmly enough to leave them in shock and even a hint of fear. There came no sound except for the breath of the Slytherin. A silent breeze of mist. Almost as if you could see the breeze slightly. It was dark. Like the dark mist on a cold night. A ghost in black. And it was almost as if two hands were firmly holding them to the wall for a few more moments. And then the firm coldness turned to slight warmth before it left overall. Leaving both of the students baffled.
—
Further sightings of the breeze or rather dark mist of a ghost was uncommon. No hearings either. But it never really made a sound. It was like the night fog of a grim day type of mist. Leaving an eerie silence as it passed throughout Hogwarts.
Although most of the time all behavior of the mist was inside the potion's classroom. Everybody could tell right away from the dropping temperature and darker tone the room came. They knew it wasn’t harmful or threatening but it was scary. It brought everyone a chill under the comfort. By now the eerie chill became a sense of knowing and warmth. To know it was there, simply watching and at times protecting. But they couldn’t tell who it was. Or what it was. Not yet at least. Some had speculations after the knowledge that the most seemed to love the potions room. Even Minerva was curious as she looked at Severus's ghostly portrait. She thought of it as impossible but after all nothing seemed impossible anymore.
On one particular day inside of the potion's classroom, the new professor was dozing off as they wrote. Simply distracted for once. And without any watchful eyes on the students, Neville found his cauldron bubbling oddly. With a nervous expression, he leaned forward to it. To inspect it better. And it began to gurgle, as if it was alive. Neville’s eyes widened and a harsh laugh was heard next to him before the cauldron suddenly busted. It was like slow motion for Neville. He protectively shut his eyes and flinched back. As he heard his name being shouted from Hermione and collective gasps. And before he could realize what had actually happened, he slowly opened his eyes only for them to widen further.
In front of him was the dark mist of a ghost, covering over his cauldron. In the air. His cauldron was up in the air surrounded by the dark mist that had taken shape into ghostly body form. Protecting him and students from the burst of the potions. The cauldron seemed to simmer down from the coldness of the ghost.
Neville stared at the ghost in shock and fear. But also, with a hint of security. It seemed as though time froze as everyone in the classroom stared at the ghost. The professor snapped out of their gaze and to the sudden ruckus and immediate silence. Only for them to widen and they abruptly stood up in shock. Not knowing what to do, simply gawking like the rest of the classroom.
Hermione gasped as she stared at the ghostly figure. The dark ghost was all in black, explaining the dark mist it gave off. Although the paleness of its skin tone was a striking contrast. It had a lean frame, not too tall but tall enough to intimidate. The hair of the ghost was like a curtain black as midnight, covering its face. But a recognizable hooked nose was seen from where Hermione sat. The figure’s ghostly hands showed a few veins from clenching onto the cauldron hard. There was no sound for what seemed forever, before Hermione spoke unevenly.
“Professor Snape...”, she whispered in awe as students collectively gasped.
The ghostly figure whipped his head to Hermione completely. Allowing only a split second of his now see through eyes to dart towards her. And before she could even blink, he turned to a black mist once more. His figured ghost disappeared. The cauldron clattered down to the ground, spilling the potion but not harming a single student. A harsh breeze blew the students' hair all up as the black mist opened and slammed the door. Escaping in black. Once more, everyone was baffled in silence.
—
“Did you really see Professor Snape?" Ron skeptically asked.
“I did! I saw his hooked nose and... his eyes, his eyes were seeing through but still chilling!" Hermione replied. She was still quite shocked herself. “But really, if you think about it, it’s not too uncommon for professors to become ghosts, is it?”
“Not ghosts that can turn to mist at any given time.”, Harry cut in. “But Professor Snape has never been what we’ve expected after all.”, he added after nobody replied to him. Suddenly feeling a wave of guilt and grief. But he snapped out of it as he saw his friend’s look or worry and gave a reassuring small smile.
“Yeah, but now the git is stalking all of Hogwarts," Ron said grimly.
Neville perked up beside them and looked to Ron, “Not only stalking, but he’s saved me twice. Twice! ”, he replied in disbelief himself.
Harry raised his eyebrows, “Twice? Wasn’t it only once in the classroom?”. He thought of all the times Professor Snape had saved him during life. It seemed now like the man’s purpose was to save children. Ironic.
“...Err, well I didn’t know at the time, but he stopped a bully from me,” he replied sheepishly.
Hermione blinked, “I’m not too surprised he’s saving children. Honestly. He’s saved Harry all his life.”
Ron was about to cut in when there was a sudden shriek from behind them.
They all spun around behind them, turning to the one who screamed. Only to see the ghost of Severus Snape radiating with pure fury as his figure stood over the new potion's professor. The silent mist of him was the darkest seen in ghost form. As though his anger radiated through all of his nonexistent body. As though seeking something to rip into. He was even more intimidating as a ghost it seemed, even in his mist form.
The potions professor stared wide-eyed up to him with utter shock and fright. They were trembling like a leaf as he stared into their eyes with his chilling see through pupils.
A beat passed and then the ghost in black spoke, for the first time as a ghost. “ Do not dare touch my vials unless you wish to experience the coldness I hold now.”, he threatened. All of Hogwarts went silent at his chilling voice. It seemed to be almost a whisper. A whisper escaping by mere will strength. Like an old recording scrapped.
With a small whimper, the potions professor nodded sharply, staring wildly up to him still. Too frightened to look away like a prey staring to the predator.
The ghost in black turned to mist after a few long seconds and circled the professor before escaping the scenery. Leaving a breeze of coldness behind him...
The golden trio and Neville all were silent with shock before Hermione spoke, “I told you...”.
“Vials?... what vials do you suppose he has?”, Harry asked with a curious expression. Both Ron and Hermione turned to him with an accusing look. “Don’t even try it, Harry.”, Hermione said as Ron gave a reluctant agreeing look.
“. Try what?!”, he looked to them with a bewildered look. And then rolled his eyes, “Don’t get in trouble? Hermione, I need to know what he meant. Even if it kills me.”
“Don’t say that!! Voldemort is defeated, you don’t need to risk your life at the ends of Snape now.”, Hermione snappily replied.
“Yeah... Harry, that sounds like a death wish. I mean, professor snape is still the same.”, Neville popped in with anxious eyes.
“Exactly, he’s still the bat of the dungeons. Or really now the ghost of ‘em now.”, Ron added in.
Harry held a look of bewilderment and determination as he always did before disaster. He wouldn’t back down now. Not with his running curiosity. What were those vials? He needed to know. It could be important. It certainly was important enough for Snape to show himself in a hallway of students. To embed fear within the professor to stay away from the vials. He needed to find out. It was like an itching under his skin whenever Snape was involved. The bravest man he knew. With a now determined and fierce look, he turned to his friends, “I need to know.”, he said desperately.
And his friends knew there was no point in changing his mind, he was too far invested to be stopped. As a Potter would be.