The Theory of Magic (Book 1)

29 // Escapees & Raven Feathers

The classroom was dark and cold with the whisper of spring wind playing through the space.

Severus had seen many battlefields in his life, far more than he'd ever thought he would or ever wanted to. Though he had taken over Quirrell's class for the remainder of the term, they'd yet to set the original classroom to rights, and he stood there now scrutinizing the blast marks. His experience in war allowed him to recognize which spells had been slung simply by the residue left behind. The Killing Curse left a particular burn when it missed its target, an impression of white, like salt on glass, and a harsh diffindo slices through stone like an oar through water. Severus could recognize them all.

Quirrell had done much of the casting. Dullahan had redirected the curses, allowing them to strike the windows, the floors, the ceiling. For all his efforts, he could not conceive of how she had done it, how she combated even a shadow of the Dark Lord without a wand. He'd searched the rubble, thinking she had a spare, and had found nothing. Naturally, wandless magic was possible, but not to this degree. Even Dumbledore and the Dark Lord relegated their wandless incantations to simple theatrics: slammed doors, snuffed candles, floating objects. Wands gave potency and precision. Only a fool would attempt to duel without a wand in hand.

Snape couldn't decide if Dullahan was a fool or something else altogether.

He scoffed, irritated, and swept from the room, entering the classroom next door. The Magical Theory room remained untouched but for a few cracks in the interior wall and shattered windows. Dumbledore had taken over instruction while Dullahan convalesced, and if the whining of the students was anything to go by, they were not impressed. A curious turn of events, that. Magical Theory had never been a popular subject until the strange, black-haired witch waltzed into Hogwarts.

The lock on the office door gave with a simple twitch of his wand. Severus stepped inside and glanced about the uncluttered space, at the white stone floor and the odd shape in the corner concealed beneath a dusty sheet. The windows were uncovered, and the night pressed itself close to the panes. He'd seen the office before, but his visit had been abbreviated and his curiosity nonexistent. A sharp chittering brought his head up, and Snape met the gaze of Dullahan's foul-tempered Augurey. The ghastly bird looked much like an intermingling of a vulture and an emaciated phoenix, its wings flared ever so slightly in warning, long tail almost sweeping the floor beneath its perch.

Snape gave it an unimpressed look, though he'd never seen an Augurey quite so large or wrathful. "Stupid creature." He muttered a spell to fill the bird's water dish, and because he didn't see an additional dish for food, decided the bird must hunt on its own. The window was charmed to allow the creature free passage. The Augurey continued to click and hiss as Severus curled a lip and went to Dullahan's desk, removing the three phials from his pocket. She would need to take those in the afternoon after Poppy released her.

There was little on the desk itself: a quill, a brass stand for an inkwell, two stacks of essays, one stack graded and the other not. Flipping through the top papers, Snape decided Dullahan was too liberal with her grades, though each length of parchment was littered with comments on how to improve. How she can comprehend Goyle's drivel—. Disgusted, he returned the papers to their proper order and instead studied the shelves. A collection of various sundries lay there, arrayed with a careful hand. The skull remained the most grisly addition, the gem at its brow bright and bloody in the moonlight.

Severus reached for it, when a voice snarled, "Don't even think about it."

Whipping about, Severus held his wand aloft, yet no one stood at the office's threshold. "Reveal yourself," he snapped, waiting, listening, yet sensing nothing amiss.