"Miss Weasley," Severus said sharply, "Detention, for being a nuisance in the hallways!"
He watched coolly as the girl elbowed her companions harshly, heading off the retorts they were surely about to spout. Thank Salazar, he'd hate to have to assign more punishment.
"8pm tonight, my office. I believe a personal touch is needed for such impudence," he said, allowing some malice to show on his face.
The girl had a believable-enough expression of terror mixed with defiance, jutting her chin stubbornly with her lips pinched with fear. The other students with her began to pale, likely imagining what a 'personal' detention would entail.
With one last glower, he swept off.
His little show seemed to have cowed all the students within range. Hopefully it would deter them from acting out. Even with the warnings they'd gotten from Heather and her friends, some would likely need more drastic measures before the message got through their thick skulls.
Children; none seemed to be familiar with the concept of picking battles judiciously.
He met Amycus Carrow's approving smirk with a lofty sneer. The disgusting man was probably fantasising of all the possible tortures he could rain upon the students. Little did he know that there was a house elf monitoring his movements – indeed, all the Deatheaters at Hogwarts – at all times, ready to report any untoward behaviour to Severus.
He and Heather had brainstormed measures to surreptitiously distract and head off any attempts to harm the students. Ranging from creating a ruckus to help the student escape to personally stunning the perpetrator and obliviating the encounter from their memory. And if repeated obliviations were well-known to compromise the cognitive ability of an individual? Well, it certainly wouldn't be a shame.
The rest of the day consisted of brewing and patrols. The potions the Dark Lord demanded from him were, in short, mainly torture potions and poisons. Severus made sure each and every one that he supplied had a perfect antidote, which he would later pass on to Heather. While it might place some suspicion on him if it was discovered that the Light always seemed to have remedies to the obscure potions the Deatheaters used, Heather was well-enough known to be somewhat of a prodigy in potions. It would be believable that she was the one providing antidotes. No one knew that her skills were currently being hampered by her injury.
The typical administrative duties that came with being Headmaster were, of course, absent. His placement here was a farce, plain and simple. He had no need to deal with the School Board, who were all either afraid of opposing the Dark Lord, or already on his side. Neither did he have to write up reports and updates for the various affiliations of the school. Not that Hogwarts could even be called a school at this point.
For obvious reasons, the students were not learning anything in the lessons the Deatheaters taught, and what they did learn from Minerva, Filius, Pomona and the other teachers were definitely not on the NEWTs syllabus. Only things that were practical for students to use to defend themselves were taught, though of course the Deatheaters were none the wiser.
It was likely that no student would be sitting for the exams this academic year. Not without the in-course assignments being graded, or actual syllabary content being taught.
When the stipulated time for Miss Weasley's 'detention' came by, Severus found Heather already waiting inside his office. He then let the Weasley girl in and proceeded to put the office in lock-down. All the entrances were sealed and the portraits frozen.
He retrieved the Sorting Hat from the shelf behind the desk, ignoring its protests about rough treatment. The blasted scrap of cloth had given them more than enough trouble.
"Really, young people nowadays, no respect for their elders!" the damnable hat exclaimed.
Heather gave him a look, clearly amused.
Ticked off, he dumped the thing unceremoniously onto the table. "Cease your infernal racket! Here, the Gryffindor you wanted. Now tell us where the sword is!"
The hat seemed to sniff in offence before giving Miss Weasley a considering inspection. "A Gryffindor? Hmm, you don't seem like much. Let me have a closer look, girl."
Miss Weasley's eye twitched in annoyance, though thankfully she refrained from letting that fiery temper of hers loose. Regrettably, they still had use of the hat yet. With great reluctance, she let the hat perch atop her head for the second time in her life.
Whatever conversation they had, Severus and Heather were not privy to it. The expressions the girl cycled through – irritation, bewilderment, defiance, then thoughtfulness – were interesting, but not of his concern.
"Yes, yes," the hat said in a muted version of its booming voice, "I see now. You are indeed Gryffindor, through and through. Godric would be proud!"
"So? Are you going to tell us where the sword is now?" Heather asked.
"Ahh, that, well, Gryffindor's Sword is always there for those brave of heart who seek it!" the hat said, before falling silent and seeming to unanimate.
The stunned silence in the room gave way to sounds of disbelief.
Severus briefly considered minor fire spells that would singe cloth. Just mildly. Enough to leave marks.
"That's not helpful at all!" Heather said.
"Argh! Stupid hat!" Miss Weasley shouted, tearing it off her head and throwing it to the floor. It landed with a deafening clang, sounding nothing like it should. A sharp pointed object seemed to stick out from under its voluminous brim.
"Is that-?" Heather said, incredulous.
Severus strode forward and grabbed the hat by its tip, lifting it off the floor to reveal a large, gleaming sword, hilt encrusted with rubies in the most garish manner possible.
"You blasted piece of cloth!" he spat, shaking the thing threateningly. It did not reply.
"You mean this entire time the hat had the sword and refused to say anything?" Miss Weasley said, glaring acidly at the thing.
"I bet I know who put it up to this," Heather muttered, scowling menacingly at the still portrait of the previous Headmaster.
"Well that was just a huge bloody waste of time!" Miss Weasley complained.
"Language, Miss Weasley," Severus corrected automatically.
"Whatever, sir."
He took a deep breath. "Now that we have the sword, you should get it to the goblins as soon as possible. Vault audits take time, considering how vast some of them can be. The quicker they begin, the quicker we may destroy the object."
His words immediately got the other two to focus.
"Yes, of course. I'll floo Gringotts tonight," Heather said. She then looked at the younger girl. "After escorting Ginny back to her dorms."
Miss Weasley began to protest the treatment, but a stern glance was enough to quell her words.
"Miss Weasley, you will need to create an appropriately severe punishment for yourself. Enough so that your fellow student believe it would be prudent not to step out of line."
"The Cruciatus," she said immediately, "I'll say you made me practice on a rabbit, threatening to use it on me yourself if I couldn't get it right."
His eyebrows raised at the creatively sadistic scenario. "That would suffice." Who knew the youngest Weasley had it in her?
"That's a good idea, actually," Heather said, "Cruciatus doesn't leave any physical marks other than nerve damage, so no one will be able to tell if you're lying if you act well enough. But, here, let me fix your appearance a bit to make it more believable." With a swish of her wand, Miss Weasley instantly looked more unkempt, with her hair in a mess and robes crumpled. There was a sheen of perspiration on her face and her skin looked paler.
"Hit me with a Trembling Jinx while you're at it," Miss Weasley said, "It'll make it look more realistic."
All in all, Severus approved of the care they put into maintaining the act. 'Gryffindor through and through', hah! The girl had more Slytherin in her than the hat thought!
"Take care on your way," he said, ignoring the Weasley girl's surprise.
"Of course, Severus," Heather replied, "you too. I'll see you later?"
He nodded his agreement and released the lock-down. That was another box ticked on their agenda.
He could feel the stares of the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses, wondering why they'd been frozen and why the two young women had been in his office.
He paid no heed to any of them, especially the light blue eyes of his predecessor.
~~~
To say that the goblins had been pleased with the return of Gryffindor's Sword was a massive understatement. Heather couldn't really say she understood their obsession with it, but she didn't say anything. Perhaps it was simply the principle of the matter. No one liked being stolen from, especially not by enemies.
At any rate, all she cared about was that they had already begun to look through the holdings of all the Deatheaters, beginning with the names she'd given of their top suspects. She didn't worry about them worming out of the deal. They had a contract signed in blood. That, and goblins were rather honourable in their own way.
With that done, she flooed back to Hogwarts, landing in her quarters in the dungeons. She'd had a tiring day, mostly running interference between the students and the DEs, and she was definitely ready for bed.
Then she remembered asking to meet Severus after coming back. Though she was exhausted, the thought of seeing the man gave her a little bit of an energy boost. It was really lucky that their quarters were connected to each other via the personal lab they shared. They could visit each other with no one else being the wiser.
After knocking perfunctorily, she let herself through the door, entering Severus' living room. She knew that the moment she'd stepped into the lab, Severus had been made aware, so she didn't bother waiting for him to let her in. If he didn't want her there, she would know it.
She found him seated in his favourite wingback chair, surrounded by a small pile of books. He placed a bookmark between the pages of the thick tome he was reading and looked up at her. She was bewildered momentarily by the sight of his hair tied up in a short ponytail before she decided it was charming. She'd never seen him with his hair tied up before.
Severus must've seen the route her thoughts were taking, because he immediately pulled out his hair-tie, letting his hair frame his face again.
"Don't bother on my account. You look rather dashing with your hair tied," she said honestly, taking a seat in front of him.
The man harrumphed, as poor at taking compliments as ever. The redness of his ears belied his true feelings on the matter. "How did your meeting with the goblins go?" he asked, sidestepping the topic entirely.
"As well as it could have," she said, "They were pleased by to get the sword back. Audits were already underway when I left."
"Ruthless little creatures they may be, but they're effective," Severus murmured, almost admiringly.
Heather had to stifle a smile at that. That description reminded her of someone she knew.
"What were you reading before I came in?" she asked, curious.
Severus held the book up so she could see the title. 'Rituals of the Light'. "Looking into our little problem of the seventh," he said vaguely.
Understanding his meaning, she nodded. "And have you found anything useful so far?"
"Nothing concrete. Purification rituals might work, but none of the ones I've read so far are useful for this situation. Perhaps crafting a specialised one might work, but rituals are notoriously tricky to create from scratch. Neither of us are particularly skilled in this area."
Her mood plummeted, as it always did when faced with the problem of the horcrux in Hadrian's scar. There had to be some way to get the damned thing out without killing her brother!
"I was wondering, is it in the scar, or actually in Hadrian?" she mused, "Could we simply excise the scar tissue and destroy that? Or am I taking this all too literally? Souls are very much non-tangible things, after all. It could very well be linked intrinsically to Hadrian's being itself, not simply in his scar."
"Unfortunately," Severus sighed, "there is no way we could find out the answer to that without actually trying it out. We should be so lucky if we could just do minor surgery to get rid of the thing, but I fear things are never that simple."
"We could medically induce cardiac death for a few seconds then resuscitate him," she said desperately.
"Certainly, that could be a last resort, although you know very well that the risks of such a procedure are not inconsiderable."
"Think! What can these wretched things be destroyed by?" she muttered to herself.
"Unless you would like to cast Fiendfyre at your brother or dose him with basilisk venom, I don't think-"
"Wait!" she said, cutting him off, "Say that again?"
"Casting an uncontrollable fire spell at your brother?" Severus said sarcastically.
"No, I mean the basilisk venom!"
"And, pray tell, how is giving him the deadliest venom known to wizardkind any better?"
"Severus." Her excitement grew as she thought about the possibilities. "Are basilisks susceptible to their own venom?"
"No, of course not. That would be utterly nonsensical, from an evolutionary standpoint. They could accidentally ingest their own venom or bite themselves, and where would that lead them?"
"And do you think an animagus would have that same immunity?"
Heather wanted to jump up and clap for joy. This was the most progress they'd had on the subject! She really wanted to kick herself for not thinking of this before. The moment she'd seen Hadrian turn into a basilisk, she should have made the connection!
Severus' eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I imagine they would. Animagi often take on many characteristics of their animal, especially when transformed. You cannot mean to imply..."
Her smile turned innocent. "Well, hypothetically, if Hadrian were a basilisk animagus and he was inoculated with pure basilisk venom, would it destroy the parasitic soul shard while leaving him perfectly safe?"
"Hypothetically, I would assume that to be the case, although a test run with a small dose and copious amounts of antivenin would be prudent."
Right, that was probably a good idea. Mr Weasley had required several doses of antivenin that time he'd been attacked by Nagini. Who knew how much more basilisk poisoning would require?
"Heather," Severus sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead as if in pain, "is your brother an unregistered animagus?" He didn't look like he wanted to know the answer.
"Well, that depends." She grinned. "Would you like plausible deniability?"
He brought his other hand up, burying his face in his palms. "Really, why do I even bother?" He looked up with a wry look. "Dare I ask if he is the only one?"
She looked to the side, humming innocently.
"This is ridiculous," he groaned, "All of you?"
"Maayyybe," she said, stifling a laugh. In a blink, she transformed, zipping around Severus excitedly in dizzying circles.
The man sputtered in shock, almost swatting at her out of instinct. He wasn't fast enough to catch her, of course. Letting out a chorus of amused twittering, she landed on his head.
"Oh, you cheeky thing, get off of there!" He held his hand out as an alternative perch, which she gladly took. "A snidget, hmm? I suppose I should have foreseen that." He reached a finger out and tentatively ran it over the tiny plume of feathers on her head. She chirruped, all but preening at the attention.
Severus raised his hand so that she was at eye level with him. "Oh, your eyes are the same in this form," he said wistfully.
Heather brushed a wing against his cheek, sensing his sadness. Then she hopped off his hand and transformed back, landing on her feet in front of him.
"So do you think it will work?" She stared at him beseechingly.
"Theoretically it should. There have been accounts of snake animagi being immune to their own venom, even in their human forms."
"Oh Merlin, this is brilliant!" In her joy, she leaned up and placed a large kiss on Severus' nose, ignoring his shock. "Thank you thank you thank you! I've got to go!"
And then she ran out of the room, heart filled with hope.
~~~
Much as Heather wished to test her new theory as soon as possible, it was not meant to be. She had wanted to leave Hogwarts during the weekend to meet Hadrian at the Nest, but Severus had been called away to see Riddle out of the blue. Neither of them felt it was prudent for them both to leave at once, so Heather opted to stay.
As always when Severus had to attend to the megalomaniac, Heather was beside herself with worry. She was keenly aware that any moment Severus could slip up and get found out as a double agent. Death would be the least of his worries in such a case.
To distract herself, she pulled up her copy of the Map, keeping a lookout for any untoward activity. Thankfully, however, it was a quiet day. The DEs were nowhere near any of the students and she could even see a small group of DA members, including Ginny, huddled in an abandoned classroom. They had decided to try continuing the meetings, but in smaller batches so that the risk of being found out was smaller. Heather attended a few of them as well, when she had the time. Though her injury limited her magic a fair bit.
She snapped the Map shut when she heard a soft pop in her quarters, wand shooting to her hands. She relaxed immediately, however, when she realised that it was only Mipsy.
"Mistress Heather! Mipsy is needing to tell yous that we are done with your task!" The little elf bounced in excitement, eager for approval.
"My task?" She thought for a moment before it occurred to her. "Oh, about the dark objects in the castle?"
Mipsy bobbled her head. "Yes, Mistress Heather! We bes putting them all in you and Masters Weasley's special secret room!"
Heather withheld her frown, knowing the sensitive creature would take it the wrong way. "Can they really all fit in there? The room isn't very large."
Mipsy nodded sagely. "We put them in magic bags, of course! Bigger on the inside!"
"Well, thank you very much, Mipsy. Please convey my gratitude to the other elves as well. I hope you didn't overwork yourselves doing this! The castle is quite large, after all."
Blushing, Mipsy's ears flapped adorably. "Oh, Mistress Heather is too kind! Us elves were happy to help! Is there anything else you would like?"
Heather kneeled on the floor, ignoring Mipsy's protests. She held her wide-eyed gaze. "No, really, thank you Mipsy. This really is a great help." Hoping she wouldn't shock the poor thing into a heart attack, she hugged her, taking care not to squeeze too hard.
She really should have expected the great torrent of tears that followed, but it was well worth it to see Mipsy so happy.
After calming Mipsy down and letting her go back to her duties, Heather set off for the Den. It was the only possible room Mipsy could have been referring to. She should have known that the elves would know about the room. She wondered how many of the Professors did, and simply did not mention anything. She, Fred and George couldn't possibly have been the only students to create their own clubroom of sorts, considering how many vacant rooms there were in the castle.
As promised, Heather found four bags worth of stuff sitting inside the room. She sat down, resigning herself to a day of sorting through dark objects. Those times at Grimmauld Place had been more than enough for her, but unfortunately this was something that needed to be done.
The first bag she dived into was full of cursed furniture. She assumed that the elves had used some sort of system when arranging the objects. She was perplexed a lot by the stuff she found. Who really needed a candelabra that oozed green slime, or a rug that randomly transformed into quicksand?
Why did Hogwarts have so much of this stuff? It was utter madness! Leftover pranks from generations ago maybe? Pretty extreme for simple schoolyard tricks though.
It took a few hours for her to get through that first bag. She found nothing that felt like a horcrux. None of the items radiated that same malevolence she had felt from the locket. She didn't waste her magic on getting rid of the curses now. That could be done at a later date, after this whole mess with Riddle was done and dusted.
A part her burned at having such limitations placed on her, but she knew it was necessary. She simply didn't have the strength she used to have.
Her progress with the potion had been steady, but slow. She felt on the verge of a breakthrough any moment now, but it simply refused to come. Severus' notes had been more than helpful, but she was still missing something.
The next bag was actually easier, because it contained school things. Not hefty furniture items that took more care and effort to levitate around. She wasn't foolish enough to actually touch these things. Cursed quills had probably been a fad of some sort at one point, because they took up almost a third of the contents of that bag! Nothing as horrid as Umbridge's Blood Quills, but vicious enough. Kids could really be nasty if sufficiently motivated.
Well, that left two more bags. Heather stood for a while, stretching her legs and back. Her muscles were sore from sitting for too long in the same position. A quick charm told her that she had worked straight past dinnertime, which explained why she was so hungry.
She skimmed over the Map again, making sure none of the DEs were terrorising the students. She knew that if anything major had happened, one of the DA would have sent her a patronus or an elf would have informed her, but she couldn't help but fret. Anyway, it was better to head off any trouble rather than do damage control after it had already occurred.
It was going to be a quiet day, it seemed. Something she was thankful for.
Feeling too lazy to go to the kitchens and also not wanting to ask more of the elves, Heather raided the food cupboard in the Den. Fred and George had kept it well-stocked with snacks and fingerfoods during their school days and the stasis charms made sure it was all still as fresh as ever. It wasn't the most wholesome of dinners – and she was sure she'd receive many a disappointed look if anyone knew about it – but that was what she settled for.
After the short break for dinner, she was quick to return to her task. If she stayed up a little, she could probably finish looking through everything today.
The third bag was full of clothing and other accoutrements. Countless schoolrobes, scarves and even shoes! Amongst all the variations of the Hogwarts school uniform, it was easy to spot the things which did not fit. For example, the pair of glasses which looked exactly like Professor McGonagall's. She wondered who had the utter gall to curse an item of hers. The woman was intimidating, to say the least.
As she reached the last few items in the bag, she came across something which stood out immediately. Levitating it carefully out of the bag, she brought it closer for inspection. It was a crown or circlet of some sort and it looked awfully familiar.
With a gasp, she felt a wave of malicious energy surge from the object and reach for her. She hurriedly flung it further away, keeping out of the item's grasp. This was it. That feeling of shivers running down her spine, of her hairs standing on end, couldn't be mistaken for anything else.
Amidst the utter aversion she had towards the horcrux, she had the capacity to celebrate a little for finding it. Another step taken towards getting rid of Riddle once and for all!
She reached towards her necklace and grasped the shrunken basilisk fang, resizing it with a thought. Best to destroy it as soon as possible so it couldn't harm anyone. She and the others weren't quite sure what effects things as vile as these could have on a person, and they didn't want to find out.
With the fang in her grasp, she inched forwards, keeping vigilant for any sudden spike of magic. The horcrux pulsed with evil intent, seeming to realise her motives. Before she could strike the proverbial killing blow, a dark miasma seemed to ooze from the gem in the centre of the crown.
She froze in terror. The dark fog coalesced to form a misshapen face, looking disconcertingly like Riddle's serpentine visage.
"Your brother will never forgive you! You, who kept the sssecret of his ssscar from him. He will hate you! Your overbearing tendencies and overprotectiveness! He's sssick of you! You are only holding him back!"
Heather flinched as each comment hit their mark. Then she shook her head, ignoring the tears at the corner of her eyes. No. Riddle was a master manipulator. She would not listen to his words! She took a step closer.
"Your friendsss only pity you. Otherwise, why would such bright, young men willingly spend time with the likes of you? You're nothing but a freak!"
She gritted her teeth, wishing she could turn her ears off for just a minute.
"Ssseverusss would never love you back. Your feelings are nothing but a burden! You're young, inexperienced, ugly, you have nothing to offer him."
That almost made her stop again, but she was so close. The horcrux was getting desperate, searching frantically for anything that could hurt her. It would have been better had it stuck to a single topic and pressed its advantage.
Finally, she was in close enough range to impale the wretched thing with the fang. One decisive swing, and the crown broke clean through with a crack. The ghostly figure of Riddle wailed piteously, giving her a headache, before dissipating.
Heather was left panting, with a smoking, charred mess on the floor, in a room that felt so much lighter than it had mere seconds ago. She all but collapsed onto the nearest chair, trying to catch her breath. She had never actually personally destroyed a horcrux before, and it wasn't an experience she was keen to repeat.
She could feel her arms aching something fierce, likely the werewolf taint in them flaring in sympathy with the dark magic that had been in the horcrux. She restrained a too-animalistic growl, fighting back against unwanted instincts.
Done. Heather was so done for the day.
After taking some time to recuperate, she reluctantly rose to trudge her way back to her quarters. What she needed now was a soothing cup of tea and Severus.
Then that reminded her that the man was still not back.
She scowled, setting her kettle to boil as her mind churned restlessly. Thoughts of what could possibly have kept Severus so late cycled through her head.
Then, a few things happened at once.
First, a loud whistle signalled that her water was done boiling.
Second, in her exhaustion, she accidentally let her cup slip from her fingers at the fright.
Third, a house elf popped into her quarters, shouting in panic, "Help! Headmaster Snape is being very hurt very badly!"
Faintly, in the back of her head, Heather thought that it was a good thing she had nothing else in her hands that she could drop.