Search:

SIYE Time:9:29 on 28th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


The Half Blood Prince of Melbourne
By BrianMcLyr

- Text Size +

Category: Post-OotP
Characters:Severus Snape
Genres: Comedy
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 2
Summary: Snape is a fan of the White Wolf? Who knew!
Hitcount: Story Total: 882



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.





ChapterPrinter


A/N I once told someone writing a “redeemed Snape” story that Jo had not quite boosted Snape onto the antihero list. Certainly he had unconventional morals and ideals. He had courage, and was even a little touchy about it. But in my opinion he had never done anything heroic that redeemed him from being just an ***hole, at least not after the first book. I assume producers and editors prevented Jo from getting her ‘Snape’ realized. Either too many words or too much to film. However, I asserted that the only way Snape could be redeemed is if he …....


Half Blood Prince of Melbourne


Snape strode quickly down the stairs, his robes flapping about due to his haste. Sometimes, he thought, for a man so vaunted for his wisdom, Dumbledore could be as thick as a post and as dense as a stone. Particularly when it came to the topic of ‘Love’.

‘Love’ wasn’t the surcease of pain and grief. It was the cause of it. ‘Love’ didn’t end conflict, it incited fools to take up arms and join in. ‘Love’ wasn’t the eternal enrichment of the soul. No, ‘love’ could as easy rip a man’s heart out, leaving only cold ashes where it had been.

No!

That the Potter brat could ‘Love’ wasn’t ‘our greatest hope’. He sneered at the thought. “Love’ conquering the Dark Lord! Bah! All ‘love’ was likely to do for the detestable little Potter spawn was to get him killed. Some brief hesitation ‘for love’ at the wrong time and the Dark Lord would end him.

No! The silly little dunderhead should be learning how to fight. Not being coddled in school, taught just enough to become another inept employee of an inept Ministry.

As he stormed through the Entry Hall there were some students still milling about. And, oh happy day, there was Potter and his group of hangers-on. He didn't even need to turn any to intercept them.

“Two nights of detention Potter!” He sneered as he came up to the miserable children.

“For what!” Potter blurted out with visible indignation.

“Don’t think I didn’t see your clumsy groping of Miss Weasley's posterior.” Snape chidded. It was fun to be the Professor. He of course had not seen any groping, in fact he didn’t think the two were even involved, or at least not with each other. “Monday and Tuesday evenings, 7:00, my classroom and you will be practicing the “Lapis!” hex on lintel beans. Come prepared.”

“You are mistaken Professor, he didn’t even touch me!” Ginny almost shouted at him.

Snape’s sneer grew. “Well, Miss Weasley, for attempting to interfere with a professor while he alots a punishment, you may join him. Bring your wand.” Snape’s sneer almost slipped into being a real smile; he was enjoying this so much.

“Hey! My sister was just telling you Harry didn’t touch her, so his detention was un… ahh..warranted, so her’s is too…...sir.” Ron said in defence of his sister, though his brow hadn’t unwrinkled since Snape claimed his friend had grabbed her arse.

“Are you asking to join them Mr. Weasley?” Snape’s eyes narrowed and he nodded in acquiescence. “Very well. You may!” As he started to turn away the forth Gryffindor spoke up.

“But Professor, the stone hex is seventh form, Ron, Harry, and Ginny don’t know it!” Hermione interjected helpfully, hopefully.

“Ahhh! Miss Granger. Is it really so difficult to restrain yourself from expressing the obvious, even when two of your friends already earned detentions for interfering? You may join them as well. Please do come prepared!” Spiteful sarcasm seemed to ooze from him but really he was on the very verge of laughing as he strode off towards the dungeons. The arrogant little shite and his sortie of obnoxious friends would learn some useful hexes one way or another, regardless of the Headmaster’s views. A real smile broke through when he heard, “You didn’t grab my sister’s bum, right?”




Once in his office Severus locked the door and reset his personal privacy wards. His wards were a rather passive affair, they truly only diverted the school wards from registering what occurred within his office. He could flo out and return without notice.

At his desk he opened a charmed drawer that was invisible to all but him. It was filled with a number of potions only a Master Potioner could make. Vials that would permanently restore an old man’s vigor. Vision corrective potions. Instant weight loss potions. Any of which were worth many thousands of galleons each.

But he was interested in the three he needed for his night's plan. First he picked up the small vial of Felix Felicis. Giving it a shake first, he unstoppered it, lifted to his mouth let a few drops fall on his tongue. As he restoppered the vial he could feel the warmth of the elixir as it was absorbed in his mouth along with a slight euphoria. Which was likely why he had chosen it first.

The second potion he pulled from the drawer was a strengthening potion. But this was in no way the same as the medicinal potions healers used. This potion imbued the imbiber with the strength of two men, enhanced reaction time and sharpened senses. He uncapped the bottle and took two large swigs of it.

Putting that bottle back he grabbed the third and final potion. Years prior, when Potter started at Hogwarts, Severus knew the Dark Lord would ultimately return. And he knew he would have greater value to oppose him if his opposition remained secret. But he felt that wouldn’t be enough, so he knew then he would need a disguise to actually fight, an alternate persona.

He considered Polyjuice potion and using random muggle donners off a random muggle street. And making it seem that many different people openly opposed the Death Eaters sent a particular message, it just wasn’t the message Severus wanted to send. Even if he was disguised, he wanted people to know that this person, this alter ego, was not afraid.

He had decided that his disguise should stand out in a crowd, easily recognized and described. After a year of trial and error he finally perfected his Polymorphic Potion. There was no known record of a similar potion. Only a true Potion Master could have created it. Without any human donation this potion would drastically change his appearance, and if the recipe was followed correctly, in exactly the same way every time.

He pulled the cork and took two large gulps of his potion. He choked it down, and through sheer willpower kept it down. The potion tasted of rotten eggs and horse dung. He had attempted to change the flavor a bit once but when he tried it, one arm grew almost 4 inches longer than the other, so rotten eggs and horse dung it was.

Putting the bottle away he gripped the edge of his desk, waiting for it to take effect. It was a painful experience, as painful as the Cruciatus. And, unfortunately, it was just as painful when it wore off and his body reverted to normal.

When the potions effects started, he didn’t scream out, he simply gripped the desk tighter and clenched his teeth. His skin felt on fire, his bones felt like red hot iron, his teeth hurt, his jaw ached, his whole face was in agony. The pain went on for hours it seemed but he knew it was no more than two minutes before it subsided.

When the pain of transfiguration had ended he had to go to his mirror and admire his own handy work. The mirror was a small wall hung thing with a large ornate decorative snake frame. It was rather hideous, but it had hung in the Slytherin Head’s office for more than three hundred years.

There, reflected in the ageing mirror was the face of his perfect disguise created by his perfect potion. His skin had turned marble white and if you looked closely a web of blue veins were almost discernible. His eyes were crimson orbs. His face had gotten longer, his jawline had narrowed, his chin was more pronounced as were his cheekbones and brow ridge which caused his red eyes to look ‘sunken’. His hair had become long and had turned platinum-white, as had his eyebrows and lashes.

He looked down at his now ill fitting academic robes. The sleeves were inches short of his wrists and the cuffs and hem of his robes were now much further from the floor. Most of his newly gained six inches of height, which had caused a good deal of the pain in the transformation, was from the lengthening of all his long bones, primarily his legs of course. The potion didn’t add mass so he was now much thinner than he had been.

A few flicks of his wand had his robes transfigured into something completely different. His comfortable black shoes took on a much higher shine and got a little pointier. His robes changed into a rather muggle looking suit although obviously made of acromantula silk. Under the jacket a black buttoned shirt, also of acromantula silk. On his back and shoulders a black high collared traveling cloak, fastened at his neck by a black chain. And to top it all off, literally, a thin black circlet.

The first time he had transfigured and conjured this outfit he had made subtle dragon wings on the sides of the circlet. Even a small raised dragon head at the front but it was all way too much. You would never see a wizard in Briton wearing a circlet. It was barely fashionable for witches to wear them, and the ones they wore were either more ornate like a tiara or much less so, like a headband or hair stay. But he liked the narrow circlet, it was an important part of the original inspiration of his disguise.

With one last look in the mirror and a quick look down to check his attire Severus stepped to his fireplace. Snatching some floo powder from the marble mortar atop the mantle he tossed it into the fireplace and calling out “The Languid Witch” stepped into the green flames.




As he exited the floo he had to take a couple of steps forward to maintain his balance, having traveled nearly four hundred miles in the network had leant him a slight forward impetus. But, this was not the first time he had flooed from Hogwarts to Knockturn Alley, so even before he had regained his balance he had already “Scrougified!” himself and slipped his wand back up his sleeve. The first public appearance of Severus’ Ghostly Assassin would not be remembered because his white skin and hair had been covered in soot and ash.

He stood there a moment as he survived the public room. It wasn’t terribly different from the Leaky Caldron’s public room, a bit darker maybe, a bit seedier and most certainly a good deal dirtier. But they had both been built in 1667, some said by the same man.

There were not many people present considering it was late on a Saturday afternoon. There were two couples at separate tables in the center of the room. Two older chaps standing at the counter talking with Madam Elphaba, the proprietor. And, in the most shadowed corner of the room, three men in a booth.

He assumed the men in the booth were Jugsen and his possible recruits and although he really couldn’t make out who they were or what they were doing, everybody else in the place was staring at him.

Albinism was rare. And in the magical world even rarer, though not unheard of. What with the way purebloods married second cousins, recessive traits were expressed more commonly than they were in the muggle world. Though mostly they were “Blue Blood” disorders.

But when a rather tall, thin albino dressed all in black steps out of a flash of green flames it was something to take note of, even in Knockturn Alley’s Languid Witch Inn. Which of course was what he had been counting on.

He ignored the scrutiny and made his way towards the booth in the corner. As he got closer the shadows did reveal the occupants. Sitting in the back of the booth, like a pompous potentate holding court, was Jugson, his black beard and balding pate easily recognizable. To either side, on the outer edge of the banquette were the potential converts, whom Severus thought might well be the Borgin brothers. They had been his students for a year or two very early in his professorship.

As he passed the last of the small banquet tables he grabbed one of it’s chairs. With neither a greeting or any other form of recognition he placed the chair at the end of their both and sat down. Crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. Obviously very much at ease.

The two young men looked at Severus’ white skinned, red eyed and black clad alter ego, then to each other but neither said a thing. Quite likely they assumed the tall albino bloke was expected.

Jugson on the other hand was plainly perturbed. “This is a private meeting between me and my two friends here and I don’t know you from Merlin, mate!”

Severus lifted his left hand and splayed it high on his chest. “I have many names, sir, but I am best known as the Half Blood Prince of Melbourne.”

Jugson snorted in dirission. “Melbourne, ha!! Prince of creamy white buttered boy butts more like?” He laughed at his own witticism, “And if you knew anything about us,” he said, indicating the two young men and himself. “You would know that proclaiming yourself to be a half blood would curry no favors with us nor our master, the Dark Lord.”

Severus lowered his hand from his chest to the table edge and leaned forward, sneering. “Don’t you think it ironic that the Dark Lord champions Pureblood Supremacy when his father was as muggle as they come!”

“You Lying Bastard!” Jugson screeched as he reached in his robes, no doubt for his wand.

There was a blue flash under the table and Jugson halted all movement, having been cursed into stone. He almost instantly turned a uniform gray with just a hint of darker gray speckles. Not just him, but his clothes as well. Severus quickly leaned back and brought his wand into plain sight to deter the young men from foolishly attempting anything rash.

“Hands flat on the table if you would please!” He told them while he brandished his wand menacingly. When both boys had their hands on the table Severus cast a sticking charm on it to keep them there.

“Now…” He said, with a sinister smile that caused the boy’s ashen faces to go even whiter. Turning to the elder brother he cast “Imperio!” and then cast it again on the youngest. “When the D.M.L.E. agents arrive, you will cooperate fully. You will explain how you were here seeking to join the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. You will tell them what you witnessed and relay everything you heard. Once you’re released you should go on a kong trip. I do not care where but you will leave England. Is that understood?”

Both glassy eyed young men said yes while vigorously nodding.

Severus stood up to leave but, as if it was an afterthought, cast a bludgeoning hex at the statue that had been Jugson. When it hit the entire upper torso was reduced to rubble, the left arm and head collapsing down below the table’s edge. “In case anyone wanted to waste their time attempting the counter curse!” Severus said before he apperated away to Spinner’s End.

His sudden appearance in his study disturbed some of the dust that had accumulated since the last he had been home, which had been the start of term in September.

Curious, Severus reached into his pocket for his watch, to check the time. ‘Merciful Merlin’ he thought, ‘that had taken less than seventeen minutes.’ His most optimistic scenario had been at least twenty five minutes. Of course, in the moment, he had completely forgotten the part where he’d planned to apologize to Madam Elphaba for the mess and buy a round of drinks for everyone before he apperated away.

Now, his best guess was almost an hour before he would suffer the transformation of the potions release and be returned to himself. He could floo back to Hogwarts, but to avoid being seen in this guise he would be forced to remain in his office, probably grading those fourth year essays.

Or, he could await the transformation here, in his own house, with the simple comforts of home. He could put on some water for tea, he thought, and wouldn’t it be humorously appropo to revisit his well thumbed copy of Stormbringer while wearing his current guise. The thought brought a smile to his face.










A/N
......turned himself into an albino and went about killing death eaters with a great big black soul sucking sword. I left the sword out. /shrug







Reviews 2
ChapterPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear