Chapter 1
Soft sounds of rustling leaves and small movements whispered on the cool night breeze that filtered between the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Patches of silvery moonlight peeked through the treetops that towered so far above that they were nothing more than vague silhouettes should he decide to look up. The scent of damp earth and animal musk permeated the air in a not wholly un-pleasant way. His soft footsteps making little noise in the damp underbrush and the soft swooshing of his robes only perceptible to a highly sensitive ear. Winter was just around the corner and the bite of cold in the air made him grateful for the warming charms he had thought to apply before venturing forth from the castle.
Coming out to the forest always posed its own amount of risks due to the any number of creatures that dwelled within its shadowed confines but Severus always found his trips into the trees to be the most peaceful aspect of his life. There was no need to keep up masks or appearances. No need for acting or fronts. The forest didn't care whether he was on the side of Light or Dark. Whether he truly served Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. In the forest he only served himself.
The soft scent of Adder's Tail reached his nose and he turned slightly more to the left as he continued his steps. The basket in his left hand gripped loosely, already filled to the point of overflowing with bags and jars of collected plants and scales and hairs. He had been in the forest for a little more than three hours gathering various supplies and the Adder's Tail was the last of what he was there for.
The sound of something large shifting suddenly up ahead of him caused him to pause, hand resting on his wand. There was a moment of silence where all of the soft noises of tiny nocturnal creatures stopped and all that could be heard was the rustling treetops. Slowly the sounds resumed and he relaxed again. Hand lowering from where it had hovered, ready to draw his wand. Most likely the large movement was just a centaur passing by. They rarely paid him heed. He took a step forward.
"Hello, professor."
Severus whirled, wand leaping to his hand and outstretched before him. Aiming the wand at the figure before him, curse hovering on his lips, he eyed the person leaning casually against a tree ten feet away.
"Who are you?" Severus snarled out, wand tip unwavering. The figure hadn't even flinched when he drew the wand and remained relaxed against the tall trunk beside him. Arms crossed loosely in front of his chest and one foot crossed over the other he looked the epitome of at ease. Severus was unable to make out much of the person's appearance as only part of his lower body was awash in dappled moonlight, the rest in recessed shadow.
"I wouldn't continue in that direction if I were you," the figure stated conversationally. "I'm afraid several of Aragog's children decided that it was time to expand their territory and have been pushing the boundaries of the centaurs' ground for some time now."
"Who. Are. You?" Severus repeated, although another part of his brain was racing with what the stranger had just said. If the stranger was telling the truth it may well have been what he heard moving just moments before. While he was confident in his ability to hold of a few acromantula, any more than five and he would be hard pressed to make it out uninjured.
The figure straightened up from his slouch and took a single step forward, bringing himself into a larger patch of moonlight. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, professor. After all, you're the one who made such a fuss about my so called celebrity."
Severus inhaled sharply and his eyes shot up. Faintly, barely visible at all in the low lighting, he was able to make out a lightning shaped scar on the person's forehead.
"Potter," he breathed shakily.
Potter swept into a low, mocking bow, "At your service, professor."
His wand wavered. "The headmaster has been looking for you." It was true. Albus had been looking for the boy for more than eight years. Most of the Order had given up after the first two, and only the most dedicated had finally relinquished hope that their saviour was alive sometime around year five of him being missing. Albus though, whether through some knowledge he hadn't seen fit to share with the rest of them or maybe just denial, had never stopped looking.
"Has he." It wasn't a question. Severus took in the genially polite mask on the other's face; seeming to show no more interest than if they were discussing the weather over tea. "He doesn't seem to be doing a very good job at it."
Severus inhaled sharply. "You should show more respect. He's likely the only one who believes you're still alive."
Potter held both arms out to the side. "I seem to be quite alive. Do you distrust your own eyes so much?"
"You know what I mean," Severus bit out. Eight years may have passed but Potter was clearly just as infuriating as the day he arrived at Hogwarts. "Where have you been?"
Although the relaxed smirk on Potter's face didn't change his eyes shadowed slightly and his arms dropped to tuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Oh you know. Here and there."
The sound of another movement of something large from the trees behind him caused Severus to swallow his angry retort, glancing over his shoulder behind himself to try to peer into the darkness.
"We really should move closer to the grounds unless you'd prefer to be spider food," Potter's voice sounded. Severus shook off his irritation at the knowledge that the brat was right and he would just have to make a trip into town at a later time to visit the apothecary for the Adder's Tail he would be unable to collect. Not deigning to give a verbal response to the not as dead as previously believed saviour, he turned on his heel and started back the way he came.
It was just as quiet heading back as it was before his moment of peace was interrupted. All he was able to hear were the soft sounds of wind and small animals along with the rustling of his robes and his own soft thudding footsteps. Nothing indicated that Potter was following him but when he glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder, he found the boy only a few paces behind him with his hands still in his pockets and the infuriating smirk still plastered across his face.
Just as the faint glow from the castle’s illumination was beginning to peek through the trees Potter piped up again.
“Unfortunately, professor, as much as I enjoyed this outing for the company if nothing else, this was not a purely social visit. It seems your master doesn’t trust you quite as much as he once did and I’ve been sent as something of a babysitter it would seem.”
Severus stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned, ice filling his veins. “I beg your pardon?” he whispered. Surely the boy did not just say what he thought he said.
The small smile was back. “I’m sure you heard me quite well, professor. It would appear the Dark Lord has doubts about your loyalties and has requested that I keep you company for the foreseeable future. I’m quite proficient at not being found as you so kindly pointed out so you needn’t worry that the Headmaster will become aware of my presence. At least, he will not be aware that I am who I am.”
Severus could barely breathe. He could truly and honestly admit that this was not something he could have predicted would ever be a potential scenario. Swallowing dryly, he registered the hidden threat in the words Potter had just spoken. If he truly was as well versed in disguise or concealment as he indicated than should the Headmaster become aware of Potter’s presence it would definitively point the finger at him as having given that information away and would undoubtedly seal his fate as having betrayed the Dark Lord.
Now that they were only a few yards into the edge of the forest where the shadows were less dense, Severus was more clearly able to make out the appearance of his newly enforced companion. His hair was still black and had several pieces that had escaped the confinement of the low ponytail that rested at the nape of his neck, showcasing that the locks were just as untamed and gravity-defying as he remembered, although he was unable to see how long the bulk of his hair was from this angle. The thin, waifish, nearly fey appearance of Potter’s eleven year old self had grown into sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and straight nose. Broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist and long legs. The silvery untucked button down, black leather jacket, and dragon-hide boots all screamed money, though the fitted dark wash jeans were surprisingly muggle, given the rest of Potter’s appearance. Severus revised his assessment of Potter being the same irritating child from eight years ago. The person in front of him, looking just as relaxed as before, was no boy. This was a man and a very dangerous one at that. Not only was he clearly trusted enough by the Dark Lord to monitor and assess his own loyalty, the longer Severus looked, the more the hair stood up on the back of his neck. The sense of barely restrained violence that hovered in Potter’s aura made his hind brain twitch.
Trying to hide his unease, he valiantly responded, “I was under the impression the Dark Lord wants you dead.”
Potter’s lips twitched upwards again. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but that is about as accurate as the rumors of my death.”
Deciding that it was a lost cause to get more information from the other man until Severus was more aware of the overall situation he somehow found himself in, he changed the subject. “How exactly do you propose to hide yourself from the Headmaster? Not only do the portraits and ghosts report to him, he is not going to be uninterested in a new person suddenly appearing in the castle even if you were to use polyjuice the entirety of your occupancy.”
“Well professor, it seems that while out and about in the forest you found yourself with a new familiar. It chose you specifically and has refused to leave your side. What a wonderous occurrence for one to find such a companion.” The sardonically lifted eyebrow pointed Severus’ way did not reassure him.
“You are an animagus?” he questioned, unable to help being simultaneously impressed and irritated. It took an incredible amount of dedication and skill in the art of transfiguration to complete the animagus transformation, and yet a part of him could only be irritated that it was yet another thing that Potter resembled his miscreant father in.
“Close enough. We should likely head inside. It’s going on four in the morning now and you should likely get some sleep.”
Severus wanted to lash out about being directed to bed like a toddler but found he was nearing the end of his endurance for this conversation. He had not been prepared for his peaceful trek into the Forbidden Forest to evolve into whatever fresh hell this night had become.
“Very well,” was what he managed before turning on his heel abruptly once more and beginning his stalk up to the main doors of Hogwarts. He nearly dropped the basket of ingredients he had managed to find in startlement when the sudden weight of a bird landing on his right shoulder took him by surprise a moment later. The dig of talons into his flesh and the hoarse croaking caw of a crow directly beside his ear caused a shiver to run down his spine.
Glancing to the side out of the corner of his eye he saw the massive black crow looking back at him with its head tilted just slightly.
Caaw. Nails on a chalkboard had a more pleasant sound. The impression of death and muck and rot seemed to travel on the noise of the great bird.
Unable to contain another shudder, and knowing full well Potter would be able to feel it, he strengthened his occlumency barriers, straightened his shoulders and pulled open the door to the castle.