The Tree of Blacks (English version)

New Scars, Old Wounds

A goal also shared by many other power-seeking Slytherin scions, which they cautiously avoided manifesting, however, given the cumbersome presence of Albus Dumbledore.

The old and powerful wizard and headmaster of the school repudiated certain kinds of ideologies and magic, and had made his fight against the Dark Lord a personal bulwark. To openly manifest aspirations to become a Death Eater right under Dumbledore's watchful eyes was certainly not wise behaviour. Moreover, the attitude of Mulciber, Snape and Avery had only cast further shadow on Slytherin House, whose students were now being pointed at with greater disdain and circumspection by all their fellow students, and even by a good portion of the teaching staff.

From time to time, Alya cast disdainful glances at Mulciber and Avery, who mumbled excitedly above an open book under their noses. Although at that distance Alya could not see it, she still deduced that it was no ordinary school volume. In all likelihood it was one of the manuscripts stuffed with Dark Magic from the Malfoy's private library, kindly lent to Snape by Lucius. The two students had maintained a close correspondence even after the blond scion had finished his studies at Hogwarts.

However, at that moment in the common room, there was no sign of the boy with the hooked nose and greasy hair, and Alya wondered where he could possibly be.

As if in answer to her hidden question, the front door of the room suddenly opened. Severus Snape burst breathlessly into the room, the emerald light emanating from the black chandeliers floating in mid-air illuminating his yellowish, sweat-soaked face.

Although he looked like someone who had just escaped from danger, his inky black eyes vibrated with malignant satisfaction.

Alya glared at him as the boy reached his small group demanding information. Apparently, Snape had just completed one of their misdeeds, probably against some Muggleborn.

Alya clucked her tongue in disgust; she had never liked Snape. Caught up in an insane and morbid curiosity, the girl strained her ears tightly, her eyes motionless on the Potion book so as not to give the impression that she was eavesdropping. Thanks to the tomb-like silence that permeated the common room, even at that distance she could easily grasp what Snape was confiding to his mates.

"So, have you tried it?" urged Avery first, impatiently.

Alya saw Snape nod solemnly and a sinister grin colour his yellowish face.

"And I'd say it worked, judging by the blood dripping from your shoes," Mulciber noted, as he chuckled ruefully.

Blood? Alya shuddered.

"What filthy mudblood did you scar?" insisted Mulciber cruelly. The greenish light that glittered slowly on his pockmarked face gave him an even more devilish air.

"No mubloods, Mulciber... I caught a much bigger fish," replied Snape, in a disgustingly mellifluous voice.

Avery and Mulciber remained silent, urging their companion with their eyes to continue. Snape moistened his thin lips with his tongue, as if the name of the victim he was about to announce had the sweetest of flavours.

Alya also listened impatiently, her breath catching.

"Potter. The blood on my shoes is James Potter's," Snape finally said, speaking slowly, punctuating each word well.

Alya's heart skipped a beat.

"That nosy bastard Gryffindor scouted out my hiding place and attacked me. So I decided to cast the Sectumsempra spell on him. I didn't manage to disfigure his stupid, smug face, but the curse hit him full in the hand. Our beloved Quidditch Champion won't be able to catch a Snitch for quite a while,"