Harry Potter: I became Snape

The centaur leader, Magorian, did not restrain his companions' heated words. He simply gazed at Severus Snape in silence.

Snape watched as the centaurs raised their cold, gleaming arrowheads once more, aimed at Nagini. Their declarations of "darkness," "filth," and "eradication" echoed in his ears. The apology he had offered moments ago dissolved, replaced by a cold fury.

He realized that no explanation or apology would sway the centaurs' deep-seated beliefs. To them, he was merely a symbol that needed to be erased.

Stepping forward, Snape subtly shielded Nagini behind him, his wand held steady, pointed at the ground.

"Magorian," Snape said, locking eyes with the centaur, "where is Ronan? I've met him before."

The centaur hesitated before replying, "Ronan has his own matters to attend to tonight."

"Very well, Magorian," Snape continued, his voice calm but firm. "I don't care what prophecies you've seen in the stars—I've never believed in that nonsense. But if you insist on fulfilling your so-called duty," his sharp gaze swept over Bane and the other centaurs, "and harming her, then it's your turn now. You'll pay a price for your reckless attack tonight and for your foolish persistence."

A wave of angry murmurs rippled through the centaurs, accompanied by the creak of taut bowstrings. One centaur behind Magorian raised his bow again, aiming at Snape with fury in his eyes.

Nagini coiled at Snape's feet, her head raised, emitting a low hiss.

"It's alright, Nagini," he soothed in Parseltongue, his voice soft. Her body relaxed slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on the half-human, half-horse creatures.

"I suggest you lower your bows," Snape said calmly, though his tone carried an unmistakable threat. "Unless you'd like to experience—"

With a flick of his wrist, a blinding green light shot from his wand, striking an oak tree ten feet away. The bark charred instantly, forming a circular scorch mark that released a pungent plume of smoke.

All the centaurs, save Magorian, took two steps back.

"Magorian," another centaur stepped forward, whispering urgently, "this conflict tonight will lead to no good."

Magorian's nostrils flared, exhaling twin streams of white vapor. His mane bristled like flames, and the bowstring in his hand thrummed.

"This is our forest!" he roared.

"Then you'll have to keep enduring," Snape retorted without hesitation. "This is your forest, but it's ours too."

Magorian suddenly reared on his hind legs, his bow slicing a dangerous arc through the air, the arrow aimed directly at Nagini.

Snape's wand snapped forward, sending a red light that struck the arrow in Magorian's hand.

The wooden shaft splintered, and Magorian staggered back three steps, his hooves leaving deep impressions in the soft earth.

As dirt sprayed, Firenze swiftly interposed himself between the two sides.

"Enough!" His shout shook loose a few leaves from the trees. "We cannot defy the will of the heavens!" He turned to his restless companions. "Have we not seen the omens in the planets' movements?"

"The stars are silent now," Magorian bellowed, stamping his hoof heavily. "We must set fate back on its course!"

"Silence!" Firenze's voice rose sharply. He glanced warily at Snape before addressing his kin. "We concern ourselves with the prophecies of the stars, not with enforcing them. Centaurs are not fate's executioners."

He turned to Snape, his voice calming. "Enough, wizard. Out of respect for fate, we will not pursue this matter tonight, but you must leave the Forbidden Forest immediately."

Snape didn't move. "And the compensation? Didn't you say we couldn't just leave? I thought you wouldn't either."

The centaurs erupted in a chorus of discontented snorts, and several younger ones raised their bows restlessly. Firenze turned, calming them with effort until the unrest subsided.

"Wizard," Firenze's voice lowered, his hooves sinking into the earth as if restraining something, "we do not wish to fight you, but do not force our hand."

"If you insist on compensation," his eyes flicked to the starry sky before returning to Snape, "I can tell you this—if you truly care for that snake, your time is running short."

Snape's eyes narrowed. These centaurs seemed to genuinely see Nagini's fate.

"I need you to tell me more about the stars you've seen," he said, lowering his wand and stepping forward, "and how to break the curse on this snake."

"The stars do not give precise answers, wizard," Firenze said, shaking his head, his silver mane swaying lightly. "Nothing is certain. Change has begun; the snows of winter are melting."

Snape fell silent for a moment before asking, "Do you centaurs have any way to lift such a curse?"

"I'm sorry, there is no antidote," Firenze replied, his voice tinged with an odd pity. "Once a curse's power burrows into the soul, it is like a river flowing to the sea—unstoppable." He gave Snape a meaningful look. "A blood curse will ultimately converge on the soul. That process is irreversible."

"You're saying the blood curse will concentrate in her soul?" Snape pressed.

Firenze hesitated, then nodded stiffly. "Wizard, that is all I can tell you. Don't ask for too much."

"Even so, this information might be useful," Snape said. "Let's end this here tonight."

Whether due to his Parseltongue or the threat of an Unforgivable Curse, the centaurs had shown remarkable restraint. Snape had no desire to prolong the confrontation. Nagini's condition was worse than he'd feared, and he had more pressing matters to attend to.

As the centaurs turned to leave, Bane regained his composure. He opened his mouth to speak, but a companion whispered something in his ear. He fell silent, casting a fearful glance at Snape before limping away with the others.

The sound of hooves faded into the depths of the forest, and the clearing returned to stillness.

Snape looked down at Nagini and noticed Dobby cautiously approaching her.

The house-elf's eyes were filled with worry. He extended a slender finger, gently touching Nagini's scales. She seemed to recognize Dobby again and didn't attack, though her eyes lacked their former spark, replaced by a beastly blankness.

"Mr. Snape," Dobby began timidly, "can Dobby still look after Miss Snake? She seems much better."

"No, Dobby," Snape shook his head. "It's too dangerous."

"Dobby is willing to face danger for sir," the elf said firmly. "Dobby knows sir cares deeply for Miss Snake."

"It's just a job," Snape said, bending to pat Dobby's shoulder. "Promise me, Dobby, don't risk your life for a task. Your life is worth more."

"I'll find other work for you. You're not unemployed."

After shrinking Nagini and tucking her into his sleeve, Snape took Dobby's hand. "Take me to the Headmaster's office."

They appeared in the familiar office, where Dumbledore was arguing with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

The headmaster jumped at their sudden arrival. "Severus?" His blue eyes widened. "You don't even knock anymore, and at this hour—" His gaze fell on Nagini, slithering from Snape's sleeve. "What's happened? I thought she'd stay in the Forbidden Forest."

"Professor," Snape said, placing Nagini on Dumbledore's desk, "the blood curse is consuming what's left of her humanity. Not long ago, she tried to attack Dobby."

Dumbledore approached the desk, watching as Nagini coiled into a tight ball.

"The centaur Firenze spoke of… a prophecy," Snape said. "He said Nagini is falling toward some dark fate, forever."

"Centaur astrology does have its merits," Dumbledore mused, stroking his silver beard. "But, Severus, I'd like to hear your thoughts on this."

"Her deterioration is faster than I expected," Snape said. "Soon, she may not recognize anyone."

"Even you?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"Not yet," Snape replied. "But I don't want her reduced to a husk driven by a curse."

Dumbledore looked at Nagini with concern. She was hissing at Fawkes' golden perch, her behavior increasingly serpentine.

"It's worse than I thought, Severus. I don't know a solution," the headmaster said quietly. "If she loses her will entirely, she can't stay here. She's too dangerous to anyone but a Parselmouth."

"Severus," Dumbledore stepped closer, "you know sometimes the hardest choices… Perhaps you should return her to where she came from. It might be better for her survival."

"For now, I'm not considering that option," Snape said. "There may still be other ways. Albania isn't a good place—it's not where she came from, only where her suffering began."

"Professor," he met Dumbledore's eyes, "when you look at her, do you still see the woman who once defiantly chose justice and came to Hogwarts to seek your help?"

The office fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth. The portraits of past headmasters watched quietly.

After a moment, Dumbledore sighed. "I'm not a god, Severus. I can't solve every problem."

"I understand, Professor," Snape said. "Firenze mentioned the curse will concentrate in her soul. I want to discuss whether there's a way to purify a soul alone."

"The soul and body are inseparable," Dumbledore said. "To my knowledge, no magic can achieve that."

Separating soul and body… An idea sparked in Snape's mind.

"Suppose," he said slowly, "there's an object, a vessel for a soul, capable of drawing out Nagini's essence, consuming her deepest fears and secrets… Could it also draw out the curse in her soul?"

"What are you suggesting?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled. "Is there such an object? No magical artifact truly contains a soul—you know that." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Unless you mean something that holds a soul…"

"It's just a hypothesis, Professor," Snape said quickly. "An academic discussion."

Dumbledore hummed, turning to the elf in the corner. "Dobby, could you step out for a moment?"

Dobby looked at Dumbledore with gratitude and nodded, vanishing with a pop.

The headmaster's expression turned grave. "Severus, we've both seen Professor Slughorn's memory. What are you implying with such words?"

"I'm not suggesting anything dangerous or dark, Professor," Snape said calmly. "This actually ties back to Dobby."

"Dobby once told me, unintentionally," Snape continued, using the elf as a pretext, "that in the storage room beneath his former master's drawing room, he saw something peculiar. Dobby called it 'a scary thing that talks.'"

"Dobby was so frightened he ran off and later punished himself by ironing his hand for touching his master's belongings."

"The Malfoys have such a thing?" Dumbledore's interest piqued, weighing the information.

"Yes," Snape said casually. "Given the Malfoys' closeness to Tom, what do you think it could be?"

Dumbledore pondered for a long time. "It might just be an ordinary object, perhaps holding a memory, like a portrait—"

"I doubt Dobby would mistake it for a portrait," Snape interrupted. "Just hypothetically, if it's something that exists and can absorb a soul, could it be useful?"

"No one's ever done such a thing," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes studying Snape through his spectacles. "And how would you retrieve such an object from the heavily guarded Malfoy Manor?"

"Dobby?" Snape suggested.

"Dobby can't help with that," Dumbledore shook his head. "Even if his magical contract with the Malfoys is broken, asking him to steal from his former masters would likely drive him to punish himself to death."

"You're right," Snape said, frowning. "That won't work." Dumbledore was correct—Dobby would smash his head with a teapot just for speaking ill of his former masters. Stealing would be tantamount to killing him.

"I'll see what I can do," Dumbledore said, his expression softening. "I'll ask some old friends if there are other possibilities."

"Thank you, Professor," Snape said. "Could you write me a pass for the Restricted Section? I'd like to see if there's anything in the books."

Dumbledore summoned a quill, scribbling a note on parchment and signing his name.

"Here, do what you can, Severus," he said, handing over the signed slip. "But don't hold too much hope. Books contain only past knowledge. Sometimes, we must accept certain things."

Snape took the parchment. Before he could thank him, a steaming cup of tea was pressed into his hand.

"Rest tonight," Dumbledore said gently. "I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"Thank you, Professor," Snape said, taking a sip of the tea.

Perhaps it was time to reconnect with the esteemed "Vanguard of Fall," Lucius Malfoy.

————

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