Rewritten Destiny

Professor Severus Snape sat in his dimly lit office, the flickering light of the torches casting shadows across the stone walls. The Easter holidays had given him some respite from his usual duties, yet his mind was far from at ease. The Daily Prophet's recent articles, filled with sensationalist accusations and rumours, had left the staff and students on edge. The involvement of the DMLE and the unsettling actions of Quirinus Quirrell added to the tension.

 

A soft knock on the door disrupted his thoughts. He glanced up to see Albus Dumbledore entering, his expression thoughtful and weary.

 

"Severus," Dumbledore began, taking a seat opposite him. "I do hope I'm not intruding?"

 

Snape waved him off. "Not at all, just enjoying the quiet the holidays bring, and a glass of brandy."

 

Dumbledore eased into the seat. "Tweak, could you bring a pot of tea?" On the side table appeared a pot of tea and some cups.

 

Snape raised an amused eyebrow. "I wonder if the students ever worked out you have four house-elves named that?"

 

Dumbledore chuckled. "I very much doubt it. However, Pomona tells me that your Slytherins have a theory on it?"

 

Snape sighed. "Yes, one Miss Granger believes it's actually another name for the houses, an inside joke of the founders."

 

Dumbledore looked a little surprised. "I didn't know anyone but the Headmasters knew that secret… How did she know?"

 

Snape looked surprised. "Wait, it's true?"

 

Dumbledore chuckled as he sipped his tea. "Yes, the founders did have a rather dire sense of humor, some rivalry to insult the other houses as part of their competitions, I believe."

 

Snape soured at the thought. "Damn it, I owe Poppy five Galleons now." He grumbled. She'd be insufferable knowing she won such a silly bet.

 

Silence permeated the room as they nursed their respective drinks. Dumbledore, after finishing his tea, broke the silence. "I wanted to discuss the matter we spoke about during Yule."

 

Snape nodded, remembering their conversation about Hermione Granger and her interaction with the Mirror of Erised. "What of it, Albus?"

 

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly, a hint of amusement mixed with concern. "I've been observing Miss Granger closely. Her behavior, her actions—well, it would appear I may have been wrong. She is, as you noted, remarkably intelligent and driven, but there is no malice in her. Not to mention the number of times she has stepped in to help other students. Madam Hooch tells me she saved a Gryffindor first-year."

 

Snape leaned back, crossing his arms. "And the Mirror? Has she shown any signs of seeking it out again?"

 

"She hasn't," Dumbledore replied. "Her focus remains on her studies and her ambition within Slytherin. She is driven, and she has managed to impress Perenelle Flamel. I honestly expected her to withdraw Miss Granger and make her an apprentice."

 

This revelation brought a measure of relief to Snape. Hermione's unusual abilities and knowledge had been a concern, but if Dumbledore was reassured, he could afford to relax slightly. "Any idea why she didn't do so then?"

 

Dumbledore hummed in thought. "Nicholas said it was because she didn't want to stymie someone with so much creativity. I believe her exact words were 'Give her a few years, and she'll outclass me.' Honestly, I thought she was exaggerating until she explained how the girl made a brand new spell to fight the troll."

 

Snape froze with his glass just in front of his face. "Made? Are you telling me one of my FIRST YEARS CRAFTED A SPELL WITHOUT SUPERVISION?!" The glass flew across the room, propelled by his sudden surge of anger and fear. Spell crafting was dangerous to experts, and a first-year student managed to make a spell and a combat spell to fight a magic-resistant troll?!

 

Dumbledore waved his hand, and the glass reformed. "Quite. I would say she reminds me of myself, but I didn't start making my own spells until I reached my majority. She is going to become rather bored at Hogwarts, I think. She is already learning fifth-year spells based on her library card history."

 

Snape sat down after calming himself. "Not surprising. She's already able to brew everything in class perfectly. I am considering offering private lessons. The girl has a talent I thought she was wasting when she started such intense study into charms." He stopped for a moment. "You said it wasn't Family Magic, but you allowed her lie? Why?"

 

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and wisdom. "Sometimes, Severus, it is beneficial to let a child have their secrets, especially when those secrets cause no harm. Hermione's talents and curiosity are her own, and she needs space to explore them. Besides, the ruse has kept certain individuals from prying too closely."

 

Snape frowned but nodded in understanding. "A wise choice, perhaps. But it makes her a target if others were to find out."

 

"Which is why we must protect her," Dumbledore said gently. "She is a bright young witch with immense potential. I do not wish to see her burdened by the same mistakes we have made."

 

Dumbledore stood, placing a comforting hand on Snape's shoulder. "Thank you, Severus. Your efforts are invaluable to this school and to me." Snape inclined his head.

 

As Dumbledore left, Snape returned to his desk, his mind buzzing with thoughts and plans. The Easter holidays provided a brief respite, but the real work was just beginning. He needed to prepare for the battles ahead, within and beyond the castle.

 

 

 

Later that evening, Snape's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, urgent tapping on his window. He looked up to see a majestic eagle owl, its feathers glistening in the torchlight. Recognizing it as one of the Malfoy family owls, he quickly unlatched the window and allowed the bird to enter. It carried a sealed letter, which it dropped onto his desk before perching elegantly on the back of a nearby chair.

 

Snape broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment. The elegant script was unmistakably Narcissa Malfoy's.

 

Severus,

 

I have found some information regarding 'HD' that may interest you. This matter requires discretion. I will meet you in your chambers tonight after Lucius returns from the Ministry.

 

Narcissa

 

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across the room's sombre decor. Snape sat in his favourite chair, a book on advanced potions theory open on his lap. Still, his mind wandered back to his recent observations of Hermione Granger and her mysterious connection to Hector Dagworth-Granger.

 

Suddenly, the flames in the fireplace flared green. Snape looked up just as Narcissa Malfoy stepped gracefully out of the Floo, carrying a bottle of what appeared to be fine wine.

 

"Severus," she greeted, her voice smooth and composed as always. "I hope I'm not intruding."

 

Snape closed his book and stood. "Not at all, Narcissa. Please, come in. I got your message, what brings you here at this hour?"

 

Narcissa placed the bottle on a nearby table and handed Snape a note. "I came across something I believe will interest you," she said, her eyes gleaming with excitement and apprehension. "But first, let's share a drink. This wine is a gift from an old friend; it's meant to be savoured."

 

Snape raised an eyebrow but nodded, summoning two goblets with a flick of his wand. Narcissa poured the rich, ruby liquid into each goblet and handed one to Snape. They clinked glasses in silent toast and took a sip. The wine was exquisite, its complex flavours lingering pleasantly.

 

Once they were seated, Snape leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "What have you found?"

 

Narcissa set her goblet down and withdrew a small, leather-bound journal from her robes. "I believe this belonged to Hector Dagworth-Granger. I found it in an old trunk at Malfoy Manor, hidden among some other, less savory items. It appears to be his personal diary, detailing his experiments and...other activities."

 

Snape took the journal with a steady hand, his eyes scanning the cover. "How certain are you that this is authentic?"

 

Narcissa's gaze was steady. "I had it verified by a trusted source. The handwriting matches other known documents of his, and the content is undeniably his work."

 

Snape opened the journal and began to read. The pages were filled with detailed notes, diagrams, and observations pertaining to Hector's work with potions. As he read further, his expression darkened. The entries revealed a man obsessed with control, power, and manipulation.

 

One passage, in particular, stood out:

 

April 17, 1965. My latest creation, a variant of the Amortentia potion, shows promising results. Unlike its predecessor, this potion induces love and complete obedience. The desire to please the potion's creator entirely supplanted the subject's will. However, prolonged exposure leads to severe psychological damage. Further testing is required.

 

Snape's grip tightened on the journal. "This is worse than I imagined. Hector wasn't just experimenting with love potions—he was creating tools for domination."

 

Narcissa nodded, her expression grim. "There's more. Look at the entries from the last few years."

 

Snape flipped to the more recent entries, and his eyes widened in shock. Hector had been secretly continuing his experiments, targeting unsuspecting witches and wizards. The names of several victims were listed, along with the details of their subjugation and eventual mental collapse. One name stood out, chilling him to his core: Bellatrix Lestrange.

 

Narcissa's face paled as she saw the name. Her hand trembled slightly as she pointed to it. "Severus, this explains everything. Bellatrix...she changed so suddenly after Father brought up the Betrothal contract. I always thought it was because of her marriage to Rodolphus, but now it makes sense. Hector's potion...it twisted her mind."

 

Snape watched as a range of emotions played across Narcissa's face—horror, sorrow, and cold, steely anger. "Narcissa," he began, his voice soft with concern.

 

She held up a hand to silence him, her eyes blazing with fury. "No, Severus. This cannot go unpunished. Hector Dagworth-Granger will pay for what he did to my sister." She stood, her posture rigid with resolve. "I swear on my Black blood, I will get vengeance for Bellatrix. I will not rest until Hector is brought to justice, Black Justice!"

 

Snape reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. "We will stop him, Narcissa. Together, we will ensure he can never harm anyone again."

 

Narcissa's eyes softened slightly at his words, but her determination remained unwavering. "Thank you, Severus. For now, we must be careful. Hector is dangerous, if he hears someone is on to him, he may run, I can not let him get away with this!"

 

Snape nodded in agreement. "I will speak with Dumbledore and see what resources we can muster. In the meantime, keep this journal safe. It's the key to bringing Hector down."

 

Narcissa turned to Severus “No Severus, I said Black Justice! Dumbledore and the DMLE will not be involved. We are not ‘bringing him down’ we are going to Bury Him. The old fool may believe in redemption, but Blacks do not forgive, we do not forget and we do not leave our enemies breathing.”

 

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly, concern etched into his features. "Narcissa, I understand your desire for retribution, but Hector is dangerous. If you go after him alone, you risk everything."

 

Narcissa met his gaze, her eyes cold and determined. "I am not alone, Severus. I have you. And together, we will find a way to make him pay."

 

Snape sighed, knowing her mind was set. "Very well. But we must proceed with caution. We need to gather more information and plan our next steps carefully."

 

Narcissa nodded, her demeanour softening just a fraction. "Agreed. I will use my connections to dig deeper into Hector's current activities. Any information we can find will be crucial."

 

Snape's expression turned thoughtful. "And I will keep an eye on Hermione. Her reactions to Hector's name and his experiments could provide us with more clues. She might not know it yet, but she could be the key to unraveling this entire situation."

 

Narcissa reached out, placing a hand on Snape's arm. "Thank you, Severus. Your loyalty means more to me than you know."

 

Snape gave her a slight, solemn nod. "We will see this through, Narcissa. Together."

 

Narcissa stood, a steely resolve settling over her. "For Bellatrix," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "For our family."

 

Snape watched her as she prepared to leave, her determination and strength a testament to her heritage. "Be careful, Narcissa. Hector is not to be underestimated."

 

She gave him a curt nod, her expression hardening. "Neither am I."

 

With a final glance, Narcissa stepped back into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor," she said clearly, and she was gone in a flash of green flames.

 

Snape stood alone in his chambers, the gravity of their mission weighing heavily on his shoulders. He knew the road ahead would be perilous, but he would see it through for Narcissa, for Bellatrix, and for the silent, determined girl in his house.

 

Turning back to his desk, Snape picked up the journal again, flipping through its pages. The horror of Hector's experiments was laid bare before him, a stark reminder of the darkness they faced. But with Narcissa's unwavering resolve and his own cunning and resourcefulness, he knew they had a fighting chance.

 

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting flickering shadows around the room. Snape's expression hardened as he stared into the flames, his mind already strategizing their next move. The battle against Hector Dagworth-Granger had begun, and together, he and Narcissa would ensure that justice—faithful, unyielding Black Justice—would be served.