"soaring part 11" by gingerbred
Sep. 1st, 2023 09:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
christmasspiritchapter 11, sneaking
Characters: Severus Snape, portrait Phineas Nigellus Black, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall
17 September, 1998. Severus and Phineas Nigellus try to come up with a better way to keep an eye on the Prefects, Minerva has had about enough of the students today, but unfortunately she still needs to keep an eye out as well, and Hermione needs to ask Harry for a favour.
Originally Published: 2023-09-01 on LJ / DW
Words: 6.5 k
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Characters: Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Professor), portrait Phineas Nigellus Black (portrait of the one-time Headmaster and ex-Head of Slytherin), Hermione Granger (8G, Head Girl), Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker), Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress)
Mentioned briefly:
Staff: Rubeus Hagrid (Care of Magical Creatures Instructor), the Bloody Baron (Slytherin's House Ghost),
Slytherins: Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker), Pansy Parkinson (8S, Prefect), Ella Wilkins (7S, Prefect with an interest in Healing Charms), Harper Hutchinson (7S, Prefect, Chaser),
Gryffindors: Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Keeper), Dhanesh Devi (7G, muppet),
Ravenclaws: misc Ravenclaws (predominately seventh years),
Hufflepuffs: Zacharias Smith (7H, Chaser),
Other: Elizabeth Wilkins (Member of the Wizengamot, Ella’s mum), Stan Shunpike (Knight Bus conductor, sentenced to Azkaban)
Previously:
The previouslies are very robust. If you've recently read the Christmas Spirit stories, skip them, if not, no worries, I've got you covered. You can find links to the individual stories / chapters in the "christmas spirit index" (LJ / DW / AO3).
12 September, 1998. A group of masked individuals attack Draco and Pansy, the 8th year Slytherin Prefects, as they make their rounds Saturday night. Draco performs a Spell, the Domum Revelio, which reveals that eight of the ten assailants are Ravenclaws. S 02 Minerva expands the eighth years' privileges, eliminating their curfew, amongst other things after Hermione is able to convince the Headmistress that the issue of safety is an altogether separate matter and should be addressed as such. Towards that end, a plan is devised to regularly consult the Headmstrs' Enchanted Map with the assistance of the portraits. S 06 and S 04
14 September, 1998. Harry decides Ron's philandering is likely to hurt 'Mione sooner or later, and he should help set her up with someone of her own, and with whom better than Malfoy, because surely 'Mione must be developing a crush, isn't she? S 09
17 September, 1998. Madam Wilkins of the Wizengamot had kindly helped Hermione and Harry work to exonerate Malfoy and Professor Snape last summer. S 06 and S 07 Her latest owl in response to Hermione's ideas for Stan Shunpike's case was discouragingly thin. S 10
Thursday, 17 September, 1998
Great HallHermione's latest rant about the injustice of Stan's situation had taken on something of a life of its own. In all likelihood it was exacerbated by the worry she harbours that Madam Wilkins won't be willing to help her for much longer, and she'd probably gone on too long if the assorted eye rolls at the table are anything to go by. She sits there now in a slightly sulky silence thinking she probably just shouldn't bother speaking to people to begin with, and then this wouldn't keep happening to her. Harry's normally indulgent smirk is strangely also absent, he just keeps shooting nervous glances towards Malfoy like she were something to be ashamed of, as though she were embarrassing him, in front of Malfoy, Malfoy, which... Well that's insulting. Particularly as she still has a favour to beg of her friend, and for the blond's benefit, no less. At least she believes it's for his benefit. These days, everyone only seems inclined to disagree with her, so who even knows anymore...
She shakes off the brief moment of self-pity, that's so unbecoming, especially when Parkinson is seated right there at the same table, and has a good deal more she could legitimately complain about, were they given to that sort of thing that is. Hermione takes a deep breath, schools her expression, casts a wandless Muffliato over her and Harry - he hadn't really been talking with the others too much about the whole 'eighth year, non-prefect classmate monitoring' idea anyway - and with the biggest, softest eyes she's capable of making - that probably needs some work - turns to her friend and says, "Harry, any chance you could do me a favour?"
As long as it isn't Stan-related, he reckons the answer is likely to be 'yes'. Then again, he recognises the buzz of the Muffliato, so if she really wants, she can bang on about the Knight Bus conductor all she'd like. It can't scare off Malfoy anymore, and this close to her birthday, Harry's unlikely to be rude enough to stop her. The picture of polite interest, he turns to her expectantly.
"Could I borrow your Invisibility Cloak?" In as much as he can't imagine why she'd need it, especially without involving him, he's more curious than anything else, and if he doesn't answer in the affirmative immediately that's primarily because he's hoping she'll explain. "Please? As an early birthday present?"
He laughs. Fine, technically he snorts. As if he didn't have that book she'd wanted from Flourish & Blotts, wrapped and ready under his bed. (Admittedly that was mostly because they'd done the wrapping for him, but he'd organised it on time, hadn't he?) Grinning a little mischievously, because she clearly doesn't really want to tell him, a touch cheekily he replies, "What for?" as though there could even be a chance he'd say 'no.'
Evidently whatever it is is important enough to her that her worry that he could refuse outweighs what should be her knowledge that he won't. Still she surprises him when she launches into an explanation that the seventh and eighth year Slytherin Prefects are resuming patrol duty again tonight, and as she's worked out that at least Malfoy and Parkinson are at risk - no kidding - although that might apply to the seventh years as well, she'd like to shadow them, all four of them, cloaked of course, to help keep them safe.
His initial amusement that she thought she'd be that much of a help - she can hardly be a deterrent when no one knows she's there - fades at the mention of Parkinson. He doesn't know what the motivation for the attack was, maybe it was just against the Slytherins, but maybe it wasn't, or how far things might have gone... Frankly, now that she says something, he's wondering if he shouldn't have followed her and Ron when they had duty this past Tuesday...
Bloody hell.
And now she wants to put herself at risk again? That sounds like a terrible idea.
He's sitting there mulling over how to put that without insulting her, and Gin's just another seat over. The minute 'Mione drops the Muffliato, Gin will find out what's up, and he'll have two angry witches to contend with who are only liable to rile each other up until they're each angrier than either would ever have been on her own. He'll be lucky if he escapes without a Bat-Bogey Hex. Belatedly, rather, it occurs to him he still hasn't checked to see if there's a Finite for it, and he really should work on his Protego now and again...
Hermione worries that he hasn't answered yet and the words explaining the need for and obvious wisdom of her plan just sort of tumble out in a rush, except none of it matters, he isn't even hearing her anymore.
He just keeps picturing Parkinson and that masked wanker with his hand on her thigh...
He looks at 'Mione, pales, his expression involuntarily a bit grim, and shakes his head. There is no earthly way he's agreeing to this.
"Harry, please." She's not sure exactly what she'd expected because she hadn't really bothered to picture it in advance, but now she knows she definitely hadn't anticipated this much resistance.
What's wrong with him?
Fine, she knows he uses the Cloak when he goes flying with Ron, or had done. Except as eighth years, they don't need to hide anymore, and her impression was Ron hadn't joined Harry all too often of late on his nighttime excursions anyway. Maybe Ron was borrowing the Cloak to meet people, though, trying to keep secret whom he met when... She could absolutely picture Harry not wanting to tell her about that...
"The things is, with what you've told me about last Saturday," she tries again, and almost as if she's beginning to sense part of the issue, she judiciously avoids calling it an 'attack' or 'assault' or anything potentially problematic, "if it was directed at the Slytherins specifically, then it isn't just the girls who should have been warned, is it? Malfoy and Hutchinson are, um, well they should have been warned as well, shouldn't they?" As if that were the issue. It's proving difficult to make the matter sound harmless while simultaneously emphasising the urgency of the need for action. Prevarication isn't precisely her strength.
After all the things that came to light during the trials last summer, Harry is dead certain Malfoy knows the risk better than either of them do, but with the mention of his name, the Knut finally falls, and he understands why she's so keen on following the Slytherins tonight, and just whom she's really worried about. He smiles at her softly, "No worries, 'Mione, I'll come with you. Think of it as an early birthday present," he winks, and she has a brief moment of panic as she considers he hasn't realised the threat won't be vanquished just by following them this one night.
She'd meant to work around to that bit later...
Completely missing the reason for the flash of uncertainty, he takes her hand, gives it a squeeze and assures her, "Between the two of us, they should be safe as houses."
The relief that immediately washes over her face unfortunately only serves to reassure him his guess is right, and he tries not to look smug. She's so transparent. It never once crosses his mind that she was well aware it was at least a potentially risky undertaking, had rather been banking on the use of his Cloak to improve her odds, and his hesitation to agree to loan it to her had briefly threatened to scupper her plans. But it is nice that he has her back like this, it's nice that he's willing to - deliberately - keep helping Malfoy beyond what they'd done last summer (and despite all his recent teasing of the blond), and she's looking forward to a completely unsuspenseful little adventure with her friend. Something nice and safe, yet just a little exciting. When it comes to actually doing things with others, mostly he does them with Ron. It's nice to be included. Or maybe that's 'include him', or however that should be phrased.
Anyway there's a chance this might be fun.
Harry has a good feeling about this, the only drawback being Malfoy won't know... Well maybe there's a solution to be found for that. Harry could mention it at a later date... Just work it into one of those one-sided conversations they now seem to have. The only tiny little hiccough, hardly worth the mention, was that it would have been nice if 'Mione'd thought to tap him for the assist before he'd asked Malfoy to go flying tonight. Assuming he'd agreed to it, say during Wilkins' and Hutchinson's shift, that is, which of course he hadn't, Harry would then have had to cancel, and he wouldn't dream of giving the Snake the satisfaction. But then she'd only asked for the Cloak, really; his accompanying her had been strictly his idea, and even if she'd suspected he might want to join her, realistically, what were the chances Malfoy would ever agree?
Headmistress' Office
On entering her office, Minerva checks the Headmstrs' Enchanted Map - it's nearly routine now - and asks the portraits who'd kept watch during the meal if there'd been any difficulties. There's the usual spot of chatter amongst them before a consensus can be reached, but they can finally agree there'd been none. As a whole, they're settling into a nice rhythm, who keeps watch when, sharing the work quite smoothly, and despite his initial reluctance, Phineas Nigellus seems to have organised things admirably with the portraits about the castle now reporting odd behaviour to them, as and when.
Well, certain odd behaviours. Heavens know there was sufficient oddness at the school as to render its reporting a tiresome ordeal without rather strict parameters limiting the potential flood of information. So far whatever he'd initiated seemed to be working.
She slumps into her chair, allowing the stress of the day to manifest itself outwardly for a few unguarded moments. As the portraits in the room are exclusively of people only too familiar with the issues she faces, it's greeted with quiet murmurs and some sympathetic nods. Phineas Nigellus, who might still have felt pressed to critique her brief abandonment of her typically excellent posture, or something equally pointless, thankfully seems to be occupied elsewhere. Useful as he's proving just now, that doesn't mean she doesn't also appreciate his absences, especially as the Ravenclaws have sorely tried her patience. They have done for weeks now with their incessant swapping of seats.
Today alone, she'd had to give several of them detention in answer to it, plus a small handful of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who'd participated in the latest iteration of disobedience. The insolence from Mr. Smith hadn't come as much of a surprise, the only surprising thing there was how he'd ever been sorted into Hufflepuff in the first place, but the cheek from Mr. Devi had been a disappointment. For reasons better explained with bias than experience, she expects more from members of her House. The very nearly institution wide failure to insist upon it, for years now, had gone a long way to enabling the present status quo.
Well perhaps some quality time spent with Hagrid will help teach them the error of their ways. Mucking out stables, or something like it, had a way of making students see sense when she couldn't. Their Care of Magical Creatures instructor was rather reliable in matters of that sort.
Severus' Office
Elsewhere in the castle, an even more exhausted Severus slouches in the deskchair in his office as he mentally reviews his plans for the evening, chief amongst them: how to keep his Prefects safe. He's far from recuperated from the injuries he'd sustained during the thrice damned snake's attack, and although he generally does a remarkable job disguising how poorly he still is, or can be, Phineas knows the truth. If anything, it's made him respect the Potions master even more. His mettle thoroughly tested, the man had a will of iron.
Such a pity bodies are a good deal more frail.
Elbows resting on his desk, eyes closed, Severus steeples his fingers and supports the weight of his head with his extended thumbs and forefingers, almost as if in silent prayer. Were he a man of faith, the situation would likely call for it. Considering what still lies before him, he's very probably steeling himself for the exertions, both predictable and potential, ahead.
The portrait watches the man, unwilling to disturb him until he's prepared to rouse himself. He needs all the rest he can get in whatever forms it takes. Last night had been yet another in a line of late nights spent chopping and brewing in preparation for the increased demands of the Headmistress' revised Potions curriculum. Even the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, a shadow of what the wizard depicted had once been and with a mere fraction of his knowledge, has retained enough competence in the subject to apprehend how ill advised her changes are.
Moggies.
Laypersons.
Admin.
Although that last need not be inherently incompetent or overly meddlesome as he felt certain his tenure had shown.
Severus finally inhales deeply, opens his eyes and shakes off the fatigue. He has his version of the Headmstrs' Enchanted Map, what Phineas has dubbed the Potionmstrs' Map, spread out in front of him on his desk, and he leans forward to study it more closely for a few moments. When Severus had first become Headmaster last year, and the portraits, deeming him worthy, had directed him to the Map and explained its usage, one of his first orders of business was to ask if any of them knew the Spell that had been used to create it. Phineas had laughed, as that had been much the same question he'd asked when he'd first taken the office. Apparently both recognised it would be wise to have a copy of their own, wholly unconnected to the position and the whims of the Board of Governors or the Ministry. None of the portraits had been able to oblige Phineas in his day, and it had taken a fair amount of effort to track down what was required on his own. He had had the luxury of time, however, and Severus very clearly did not. As a double agent deeply entrenched behind enemy lines, with no one on his side aware where his loyalties actually lay? Hardly.
Phineas had meant to leave his Map for select successors, possibly for future Slytherin Heads of House - Oaths, properly worded, could have assured he retained control - he'd still been undecided on the modalities when his death had come, rather precipitously, yet another victim of the Lethargic Lurgy epidemic making the rounds at the time. How prosaic. Unwilling to let the Map fall into the wrong hands, he'd only barely found the strength to destroy it before he passed, but as he'd meant to pass it on, his portrait had been well instructed in the matter and knows a great deal more about such Maps than most, living or painted, and he'd been able to help guide Severus through finding the necessary Spells. It had been one of the ways he'd made himself useful during that initial phase, ultimately gaining a position of special trust in the erstwhile Headmaster's life.
In the interim, Phineas has come to feel rather protective of the young man.
Once again, the portrait waits patiently until Severus apparently comes to some conclusion; not the one he'd hoped for, the portrait would wager. Only when the man sighs and leans back in his chair, the reluctant acceptance of the additional burden already clear enough on his face for someone who knows him well, does the painting on the wall beside him finally speak.
"It can't be done just with the Map?"
Disheartened, Severus shakes his head, "I don't see how. Even supposing I spot a potential problem before it becomes an actual one - and it's far from as simple as a question of numbers congregating, regardless what Minerva believes - I'd never be able to get there in time to be of assistance." He scowls at the Map some more, as though it were the source of his disappointment, while Phineas presses his lips together tightly to a fine line of frustration as he struggles not to suggest 'Apparition'.
Again.
They've had that particular conversation so often each of them is capable of conducting it entirely by themselves with a surprising degree of accuracy that speaks both to the frequency with which they've visited the topic in the past months and their wholly unacknowledged familiarity with one another. Severus is convinced that as he's no longer Headmaster, he wouldn't be capable of Apparating in the castle anymore, and Phineas believes, as Severus hadn't officially resigned, and in light of the events that had led to Minerva's assumption of the position, that the castle won't have revoked his privileges; neither knows with any certainty if they're correct. First and foremost, the portrait is convinced, the man isn't prepared to face yet another rejection, yet another condemnation, by a largely inanimate object no less - with all due regard to the castle - and under other circumstances, Phineas would harangue him mercilessly if that's all that were involved. But in Severus' already weakened physical state, a failed Apparition attempt like that coupled with Hogwarts' rather... robust safeguards could see him landed in St. Mungo's.
Or worse.
Given this particular topic always results in a stalemate, and as Phineas can hardly force the man to give it a try, and - as Severus is apt to point out - he's the one who will bear the brunt of any consequences... And, really, in light of his exhaustion, there's little point to bringing it up. (Again.)
But sometimes the absence of pointless chatter and fruitless debate provides one with the peace and space required to come at a problem from a different direction.
Suddenly struck by an idea, Severus twitches his wand, casting the Domum Revelio on the Potionmstrs' Map. It's not successful, of course. That would have been surprising, primarily as it's only meant to work when cast on witchards, and certainly not inanimate objects - the vast majority of magic only works on one or the other - and as they've established only too clearly, those witchards needed to have been sorted first for it to succeed. Nevertheless, it speaks to an interesting line of thought, and Phineas' curiosity is immediately piqued.
Not infrequently, the Spells for animate and inanimate objects are close enough in essence that one can just see the hints of reflections of one in the other and - with the proper talent, all too rare - intuit how one might need to work to fashion a Spell for other applications. The difference between a Wingardium Leviosa and Levicorpus, although significant, wasn't immeasurable, and with knowledge of the Mobilicorpus to help direct the development... It had still been a bit of genius, though, particularly for a lad his age - fifth year was it? - and it's nice to be able to watch him work. With the threat of You-Know-Who removed, Severus might once again be free to create. If Minerva ever stops scotching his lesson plans that is.
"Very nice!" Phineas praises the spot of creativity.
Severus brushes off the praise, and undaunted by the failure - it's always good to work from known quantities; that required testing which in turn, more than occasionally, led to such failures - turns to ask the portrait, "Do you imagine there's a chance the Domum Revelio - some variant thereof, obviously - could be combined with the Map's Charms to show the Houses of the individuals visible on it?"
Assuming any future threats were to come from the same group of witchards as had attacked the Prefects last Saturday... There's no guarantee, naturally, but it would be a better way to group the information, a more helpful way of displaying the data. Were it available, that is.
Phineas reluctantly shakes his head. "I'm afraid I don't know. If I ever did know, and that's unclear, that information has been lost to time." With a twinge he's forced to think again of his premature passing, which apparently had thoroughly put the kibosh on so many of his plans for his portrait and, one might suspect, his Slytherin Portrait Coalition as well. In view of some of the absurdities the latter had produced over the decades, he can't imagine this was the intended final result. He'd also clearly never finished teaching his portrait all the things he'd have liked to. That much he knows from the other headmasters and -mistresses portraits, and although generally he isn't given to simply taking their word for things - he was too accomplished a student of human nature for that bit of naïveté - all considered, it does seem highly likely and in keeping with his character.
Severus is well enough aware of the facts and Phineas' unfulfilled dreams that all that is necessary for him to follow is for the portrait to nod his head in the direction of the shallow cupboard that covers the younger Slytherin's painting. Still keen to belabour his point, however, Phineas feels almost compelled to add, "It's one of the reasons I always encourage you to teach your portrait as much as possible."
Severus is well aware.
While the Potions master is inclined to doubt the real life Headmaster Black had been quite as accomplished as the other portraits like to suggest - he's fairly certain they're permitting themselves a spot of ongoing fun with Phineas - equally there was no denying that, practically speaking, the portrait often knew more about magic than the others did, evidently having placed his focus there, and equally there was no denying that his knowledge was quite esoteric indeed. He couldn't necessarily teach one a Spell - his objectives ultimately lying elsewhere, or perhaps that was his way of keeping the unworthy from squeezing too much information from him with too much ease - but he had an incredible range of expertise about which Spells could be found in precisely which books, and that was usually enough for Severus to command the sought after Spell within a very short span of time.
But all Phineas' campaigning has its desired effect. Severus follows the portraits' gaze to the cupboard housing his portrait, contemplating the ramifications of Phineas' recommendation, and not for the first time this very week even. A Perception Charm, at Phineas' instance, allows the portrait to see whatever takes place in the office, just as two more permit them all to observe the corridor beyond the office and the Potions classroom beside it. Severus hadn't wished to look at the portrait unless necessary - it seemed frightfully vain and called vision of Lockhart to mind - and this had proven a... mostly satisfactory compromise.
At any rate, Phineas wasn't in a position to complain overmuch, and Severus' own portrait quite naturally couldn't.
He prefers it that way.
His Tempus chimes and Severus rises, silently Summons a Girding Potion, pauses a moment and, with the briefest of looks towards Phineas, follows it up with a Pain Relieving Potion. Phineas had suspected as much. If the young man were wise, he'd call it an early night and go to bed. Still, it's good that he's being sensible and addressing the issue if he does insist on going out. He has a little time yet before the Slytherin Prefects begin their rounds. Hutchinson and Miss Wilkins had returned to the House after the meal, Phineas had kept careful watch on the door, and they can logically be expected to leave from the dungeons. They'll have to walk past Severus' office to reach the rest of the castle, just as anyone wishing to ambush them closer to the House, surely not the cleverest of schemes in any event, would have needed to go past his office door. As such, the Head could wait here comfortably until the two seventh years put in an appearance.
The Potions master begins slowly stretching his long limbs as he limbers up for the patrol ahead, grimacing at the still restricted movement of his left arm - at least it wasn't his wand arm - and the way the muscles of his back complain as he tries to compensate for it. In another few moments, the Potions will have silenced even their protests, and it should be sufficient to see him through rounds and the prep work he'll need to do later for tomorrow's Potion base, everything carefully timed as always. Hang Minerva and her interference. He no more has the energy for her meddling in his course than he does for her ridiculous changes to the school's rules. No curfew for eighth years? He hasn't the time nor wherewithal to make sure his students are safe, certainly not if they're flooding the school with potential assailants while about it. Typically he's setting about disproving that alleged inability even as he thinks it, but it tends to come at a cost.
Phineas politely doesn't comment on the occasional wince, and Severus resumes their conversation as if he weren't forced to interrupt periodically to make them, taking advantage of the imposed moments of idleness to indulge in a bit of philosophical discussion he presently has too little time for.
"Isn't there a danger inherent in imbuing a portrait with so much knowledge? You'll forgive me, Phineas, but you're scarcely free to do as you please. Whoever your master is, they can extract that proficiency by force, simply by command, and as you're defenceless, you're exceedingly vulnerable to coercion. Isn't that reason enough not to impart onto a portrait mastery that can be abused? I can't imagine you wanted to tell Minerva about the Domum Revelio."
"You're forgiven," the portrait sighs, as he watches Severus stretch and flex his muscle groups in succession, "and to some extent correct. I didn't want to, and in point of fact, technically I didn't," he hurries to add. "I didn't reveal much of anything more than what she knew - or suspected," he anticipates Severus' objection, "and if she'd summoned Malfoy for answers, with the Oaths involved, it likely would have become fairly complicated, fairly quickly. Plus, if she'd thought it through," Severus chuckles darkly, and Phineas permits himself a small smirk as he continues, "not entirely out of the question, you'll concede, she'd still have had her answers. Those very same answers. I can assure you, I provided no more than that; I merely saw to it in a more timely fashion."
"And you don't feel your hand is forced?" He's positive he's forced the portrait's hand himself more than once. That lack of autonomy worries him enough that some days he still thinks about throwing his portrait on the fire.
"Don't we all on occasion? Haven't you had cause - often at that - to feel that way these last several years?" It would be difficult to say if Severus' wince was caused by his latest stretch or Phineas' words. Fair enough. "I didn't tell Minerva or the others about the Slytherin Portrait Coalition, in fact I've never told any Headmaster other than yourself about it, and I wasn't forced to do so even then. That was strictly a question of choice. On balance, I believe I've been able to continue carrying out much of my 'agenda', if you wish to frame it that way," and Severus most certainly does, "long after my... demise. At the very least, I wanted to see the portrait network remain intact; in a perfect world, I had hoped to see it flourish and expand. And it has, with the exception of those few years when You-Know-Who gained power." Unlike Albus, Phineas believes in the power of names; Severus suspects he's more likely to have the right of that one. During those years, not entirely sure where their loyalties lay, Albus had had some of the Slytherin portraits removed. Now everyone was back in their proper places, no small victory, and Phineas most definitely knows it; he's prone to being a mite smug in his self satisfaction. "I'm convinced the compromises intrinsic to this form are worth it." Much, in fact, as he was sure Severus would be a valuable addition to their network when his time came.
To that end, he's certain Severus wouldn't be nearly as valuable if he weren't also pursuing his own goals. Not that their goals are the quite same, but they happen to align, or near enough. Phineas is confident. Motivation, determination and ambition made for the best portraits, in his experience, and as luck would have it, coincidentally those were far more likely to be traits of members of his House. And unlike so many of the others, Phineas happened to know with certainty that Severus wouldn't be vulnerable to the coercion that ironically he seems to fear. As stubborn as he is, he'd allow the Geas to destroy him before compromising his principles. Some day maybe he'll come to believe that.
Until then, with each passing day, in the present arrangement both of their portraits gain in knowledge and strength. If Phineas is ultimately incapable of persuading Severus to refrain from destroying his portrait, c'est la guerre, at least his own will have profited from their time together. Even if Severus were to go so far as to destroy this version of Phineas' portrait as well - not that he can fathom such a thing, but in the very worst case - his strength would be only slightly diminished, but the knowledge he gains here remains.
No, they have a very suitable arrangement indeed.
"Look lively," he alerts the man. "Hutchinson and Miss Wilkins are just going past."
Not that he needed confirmation, but Severus automatically turns to the door to observe the Prefects as he Disillusions himself, waiting for them to pass, which is when he spots something odd. There's a telltale ripple following closely behind his Prefects. "They aren't alone," comes his disembodied voice. Skill and intent determine how effective a Disillusionment is, and while Severus is essentially invisible where he stands, whoever was following the Prefects quite evidently couldn't match him in those regards.
He waits until they're past his door and is about to leave to follow them when he spots two pairs of feet. Just that and nothing more, save perhaps the periodic flash of ankle. No ripples there, just the feet, appearing as out of nowhere, shuffling along behind the ripple in front of it almost comically as they're clearly lacking in coordination.
"And they aren't alone either," he adds.
"Disillusioned?" Phineas asks, partly for the benefit of Severus' portrait beside him. Once the man is gone, he will take this opportunity to teach the portrait about the Spell.
"Only the first group. The second is using an Invisibility Cloak. If it were an imperfect Disillusionment, something that had failed to cover them completely, you'd see the ripple as in the first example. No one casting it too narrowly is also capable casting it so well as to leave no other trace. It's a Cloak and a fine one." He can think of at least one individual in the castle with an Invisibility Cloak like that, he's less clear what Potter's Cloak might be doing wandering about the dungeons of an evening, tailing his students. Unfortunately there had been a Gryffindor involved last Saturday night's assault, and it isn't out of the question that someone might have borrowed the Cloak from Potter. Either way, he imagines he'll get to the bottom of this soon enough.
He gives the Prefects, ripple and feet a chance to pull ahead of his door - a fine example of castle oddness if one needed one - and cautious as he is, still casts a Notice-Me-Not on the door before exiting. Phineas doesn't wish him luck until the door closes once more - presumably behind him, although it's impossible to say for sure - and there's little chance of the man overhearing. "Be safe," he adds, and then begins another lesson with Severus' portrait.
A morbid thought occurs as he does so, not for the first time, that if things go very badly wrong, he'll be amongst the first to know if the portrait should come to life.
Well that's grim...
But then he can't speak yet. Phineas had never been the greatest fan of teaching - heavens forfend, anything but - however he's finding perfectly silent students have much to recommend them.
Severus slips into line behind the other less than visible individuals following the Prefects in peculiar parade, and the column begins winding its way through the castle. They continue in that manner for quite some time, and he begins to regret not taking the Potionmstrs' Map with him - but then Disillusioned it's of little use as one couldn't see it to consult it - but increasingly he worries they might be heading into a trap where others could already be lying in wait. That worry only increases the more tired he grows, in direct correlation to the distance they've walked and how long this continues.
It's now very nearly late enough that Draco and Miss Parkinson should be nearly ready to start their rounds, and unless they're meeting the seventh years somewhere unusual for a handoff - potentially wise as unexpected - none will be taking place, and Severus has begun to worry how he'll find and follow the other two Prefects to keep an eye on them and simultaneously see these two safely home. Leave it to his Snakelets to recognise the danger and change things up accordingly. He'd be proud if it were less inconvenient. As is, he now frets, at least a little, in a way that he hadn't when the stakes were higher, but he was fitter. This sense that he can't rely on himself if swish comes to flick... It's unsettling.
And then something odd happens.
In fact several odd things.
The Prefects continue on ahead while the ripple reverses course and confronts the feet - it really is the best way to describe it - shouting begins, and, most bizarrely, four Protegos are cast. Laudable, heavens know he's forever telling his students to work on theirs, but in as much as they're physical things, that's not entirely safe in such a narrow corridor either, as a couple of pain-filled cries seem to confirm. The Protegos begin what amounts to an outsized shoving match, and almost predictably, more shouts and cries follow.
Splendid.
He's about to intervene. He's decided that the ripple are very likely students of his attempting to protect the Prefects from whomever was following them, although there was still a chance some of his Snakelets had access to a Cloak and the ripple were would-be-attackers, but either way, the confrontation means the two groups aren't allied. Or piss poor communicators, always a possibility. In fact, considering the students, a strong possibility. And then all of a sudden something ice-like passes through him, tearing a groan from his throat. He knows the sensation, a ghost has just gone through him. It happens only rarely, generally they were cautious that way, but of course it was far more likely to occur when they couldn't see one either.
The ghost, also presently invisible, apparently registered the collision as well as it stops - something Severus discovers when he bumps into it again a moment later. Unhn. This time he manages not to groan, but only as he was prepared for the eventuality.
Merlin's bloody bollocks.
The... combatants - that hardly seems fair when they're only wielding Shield Charms, however aggressively - are too preoccupied to have heard him at any rate, or they've ascribed the noise to one of their number. Whichever.
And then a soft whisper suggests he, "Wait." More confusingly, it follows that up with a, "Please, Professor," that now has him doubting his Disillusionment and then some.
Just what he needs.
Written with oodles of love for lostangelsoul3 and
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erexen.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-09-04 06:31 am (UTC)Poor Severus, and I'm glad he's working on his portrait.
Thank you, enjoying how this is moving along. <3