My Secret Shadows

《Chapter 5》

Snape's POV:

I felt the sun burst through the clouds as I reached the Hogwarts front doors. It caressed the nape of my neck as I paused, slowly looking back at the lakeshore.

Lillian was awake now. She stood, her hair illuminated in the morning light like fire. I saw her realize she was alone. Something like pity flickered in me before I snuffed it out. Lillian was a lowly little mudblood, not someone worthy of my time. I turned on my heel and stalked inside.

A bucket of stinkpus drenched my hair and the front of my robes as I walked in the front doors. I roared and wiped the yellow goo out of my eyes. It seeped into my clothing, thick and sticky against my skin."Hehehaha! Lookie! Oh goody!" Peeves cackled at the top of his lungs.

He tossed his bucket aside with a

CLANG!

As it was still early, most of the castle was probably still asleep. Not for long by the looks of it. Peeves was singing very off key and screeching madly. "I caught a big black baaaat, he left hiiiiis lair, myyyyy trap gave you newwww haaaaiirrrr!" I reached my fingers up towards my head and inwardly groaned. The stinkpus had dyed my raven locks butter yellow, like an ugly wig.

"Petrificus Totalus!" I muttered, and Peeves hollering was cut short. He floated in midair, his greedy mouth wide open mid-song.

I noticed Lillian quietly observing the hubbub from a nearby corner. She glared stonily at me, but when she did, I caught a faint wisp of humor twitch at her lips when she saw my hair. I ignored her and glided out of her sight.

As soon as she was out of my sight, I abandoned my decorum and ran like hell.

The dungeon steps were slick, and I skidded to a halt at the bottom, barely catching myself from falling face first. I caught a glance of my reflection in a cracked mirror and swore.

Voldemort's nostrils.

I looked horrendous!!! I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to comb out the revolting color. "Scourgify!" My clothes were clean, and the smell was gone, but my hair. Was still. Butter. Yellow!?!

A lump in my cloak bumped against my leg as I frantically clawed at my head. I reached down into the depths of my pocket and my hand closed around a bottle. I withdrew it and huffed irritability. It was Luna's homemade shampoo.

And unfortunately, it was my only shot at getting this stuff off.

I stepped into the shower, the hot water soothing my frayed nerves and sore shoulders. My eyes traced the Dark Mark on my wrist. It extended all the way up my forearm, marring my alabaster skin with black streaks.

This was a mark of a Traitor, a version of myself I tried to leave in the past.

It's funny how fate won't let me alone.  The way The Dark Mark had been activated meant that soon Voldemort would call a meeting... Nothing big at first, just a few of his most trusted Death eaters.

The shampoo Luna had given me smelled like peaches. I blinked to keep water from running into my eyes and Lillian's icy blue orbs filled my mind's eye. Her touch had been so gentle...and she had seemed to genuinely care.

I shut the water off harder than necessary and wrapped a towel around my lower half. I peered into my personal bathroom mirror and released a sigh of relief. The organic shampoo had worked, although my hair looked more....I tossed it and it shimmered.

Ah. Fabulous weed.

I whispered a counter charm to the effects of the Fabulous weed, but my hair stayed shimmeringly luscious. An unfortunate side effect. I dressed slowly, stopping to comb my fingers through my hair. The effect was only temporary...I hoped.

I wasn't bad looking. In fact [I smirked at my reflection] I was devilishly handsome. My dark eyes glinted beneath my shimmer hair and my strong jawline held no stubble.

The reason for my looks, I supposed, was that my pure-blood mother had Veela ancestry. I fastened my robe to my shoulders and checked my reflection again. Perfect. I stepped into my room, which was adjacent to the dungeon classroom. The entrance to my room was located behind the portrait of the threstral.

It whinnied hoarsely and flapped its wings as I pushed it open. I thought it was squawking at me, until I saw Lillian glaring at it. I swept the portrait closed as Lillian asked, "What's in there?" My upper lip curled. "Wouldn't you like to know." Lillian crossed her arms.

"It doesn't matter. Whatever is in there is probably black as your heart." My sneer widened. "I told you I wasn't a wounded animal to be looked after."

Lillian chuckled mirthlessly. "I helped you. You. The Professor everyone hates. And you had the gall to call me a filthy mudblood !" I pinched the bridge of my nose and crossed my arms.

Lillian narrowed her eyes. "You didn't speak it out loud, but we both know what you were THINKING!" Lillian's voice rang out, bouncing off the dungeon walls.

"You consider yourself a mind reader now, do you?"  I coolly interjected.

Lillian grit her teeth. " I know you read my book cover to cover. The only way you could have so thoroughly criticized my book was if you had read the cover page. And if you think-"

She stopped dead, staring at my hair. "Merlin's beard, Severus. Your hair is sparkly."

I sighed, exasperated. "Hnnnm. Side effect of the stinkpus incident you so fondly witnessed." I started to stalk out of the dungeon.

Lillian put a hand on my shoulder. I flinched at her touch...and pulled away. How dare she touch me after what she did? Lillian called out, "Severus! Wait! I heard you call my name last night. Why?" Her voice was calmer and more reserved.

"And why do you presume me to have said that?" I asked, not bothering to turn around. Lillian whispered, "You said...My Lilly."

I hissed sharply, sucking air between my teeth. "And you assumed I was talking of you. Did it ever occur to you, Lillian, that I was referring to someone else, someone in my dreams?" Lillian didn't respond. I continued, my voice a silky threat.

"I am the one person in Hogwarts you should fear. Indeed, I should warn you I could kill you here and now if I wish."

I left with a flourish of my cloak and the door swung shut in her face. My skull was pounding, and I steadied myself against a wall. I dug my fingernails into the rough stone as the Dark Mark rippled like a vivid inkblot, thrashing and spilling on my skin. Voldemort was on the move again.