A/N: Submitted for the Quarterly Mythology Challenge by Ravensgryff of Gryffindor House.
The sky had transformed from a clear, bright blue to a murky, cloudy grey. Severus Snape sat on the train, across from his ward, and watched the countryside swoop by on their southbound journey. They had spent the previous forty-eight hours, or so, traveling by night, engulfed in darkness; as soon as they had become free to walk in the daylight again, the universe slapped them with dreariness once more. Typical, Snape mused, it’s as if something is trying to tell me that, no matter what I do, I’ll never escape the dark. Well, if there’s no hope left for me, I at least hope that Draco will be spared such damnation.
Snape gazed at his blond companion and listened to the loud clacking of the train’s wheels against the cold iron tracks. Draco stared out the window and asked without turning his head, “Sir, may I ask you something very personal?” He appeared to be immersed in thought and his voice carried a hint of temerity.
“You may ask, Draco, but I will not promise an answer until I’ve heard the question.” Snape, however, did not imagine that Draco could ask anything much more personal than the things he had already learned about his former Professor.
“Do you think that you will ever completely forgive yourself for the choices you’ve made?” Draco’s face was blank, but there was a hint of longing in his eyes, a desperate need to hear that once this was done he could resume a normal life.
After a long pause and several minutes of staring, unseeing, at the tall grasses whipping against the side of the train, Snape responded. “I don’t know, to be honest. There have been so many mistakes and casualties, my self-determination not being the least of them, that I wonder...but, I haven’t completely lost hope yet.”
Following several more moments of silence, Draco asked, “So how did you ever get that artifact?”
Severus visited the Riddle House the following weekend, but to no avail. There was not a sign or clue as to the whereabouts of the Aspergillum. He did find, however, evidence that someone else had been to the house not long before him. The house had apparently been ransacked. Only Death Eaters knew that anyone had inhabited the house within the past fifty years; how disappointed the Dark Lord would have been to know that as soon as he was destroyed, his so called ‘loyal followers’ had looted his belongings. After an hour of searching the house, Severus pulled up a blue velvet Victorian chair and sat down to think. The Dark Lord would not have left something of value where his Death Eaters could find it; Severus had been stupid to think the Dark Lord would hide the artifact in such an obvious place. He had to think like Lord Voldemort if he was going to make any progress. Severus looked around the room, raised his wand and shouted, “Scourgify!” He saw no reason to leave the place in such disarray.
When no answer came to him after several weeks of researching as much as he could about the Aspergillum, he deduced that if the artifact belonged to the Ravenclaw family, then the Dark Lord might have possibly hidden it somewhere close to their ancestral home. It was as good a place to look as any other. Severus had experienced another torturous transformation and was now eager to cure himself. This type of self-torment didn’t suit him after all.
One Saturday afternoon, two days before Christmas, he had an idea. He knew who would be able to help him, and it wasn’t Albus Dumbledore this time. Then, without another moment’s delay, he Flooed to Aurora’s Antiques.
It was midday, this second time visiting the antique shop, but the store was still eerily quiet. Through the front window, he could see shoppers meandering by, occasionally stopping to look in and point at an interesting object on display. The day seemed bright, but quite windy; people clasped scarves tightly around their necks and hunched their shoulders against the relentless gusts. Severus disinterestedly watched the scene for a moment and then turned toward the counter. He paused with his hand held over the bell, and then remembered that Talair had not wanted him to ring it on his last visit. He lowered his hand instead and spoke into the air, “Talair, are you here?” He felt quite foolish speaking to the ether, but he didn’t want to snoop around the place to look for her either.
Severus saw a shadow emerge from behind a large, mahogany armoire; he then heard a familiar voice. Still he could not see the form of the shop’s curator, who purred, “Back so soon, then?” There was a tap on his shoulder and he barely stopped himself from jumping forward several inches. He whirled around and there behind him stood Talair with a mischievous grin plastered across her face. “No need to go all apoplectic, love. It’s only me.”
Severus narrowed his eyes; he had no inclination to play games with this woman, but he knew that he needed her help. He bit back a sharp remark and took a deep breath before he spoke. “That was an…interesting trick. Highly amusing.” He stretched his lips almost painfully into something that he hoped resembled a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Talair.”
She laughed heartily at this. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d like nothing better than to throttle me right now and you know it.” She walked around to the other side of the counter. “Thanks for not ringing the bell, by the way. What can I do for you?” She was all business now.
Severus drew his head back slightly, in hesitation. This shopkeeper was certainly unsettling. He looked at her more closely, trying to decide if she was a friend or foe. She was dressed similarly as the last time he’d met her, except this time, she had on a tunic with sleeves that stopped at the elbow. Her forearms were tattooed, as he had suspected before, with intricate swirls and knots. He inspected them for several moments.
“You like my tattoos?” She asked the question with an annoying smirk curling her lip.
“They are quite…unique. Do they…”
“Cover my entire body? Of course.” She smiled more broadly at this statement and leaned a few inches closer. She was obviously enjoying his discomfort.
Severus suddenly felt that his breath was constricted by her nearness and took a step back. “I was going to ask if they had some significance “ the designs.”
“Hmm, yes they do. Family heirlooms, you might call them. Anyway, you’re not here to discuss the markings of my flesh,” she drawled out.
Severus straightened. “Yes, I’d like a bit of information about the Ravenclaw family if you could provide it. Where was their ancestral home, that sort of thing?”
“Oh,” she said brightly, “I can do better than that.” With no further warning, Talair snatched his hand from across the counter, and within the space of a heartbeat they were transported to a small rural village.
It was viciously cold and the wind tore at the skin on Severus’ face. He could barely hear Talair when she shouted, “Over here! There’s a little inn where we can get out of the cold!” She pointed and took hold of his arm, leading him toward a two-story, thatched roof cottage.
Once inside, Severus briskly ran his hands over his arms. Just the few moments that they had spent in the intense cold chilled him to his bones. Fortunately, a bright fire blazed in the hearth at the opposite end of the room. Talair led the way to a table right next to it. The room was nearly empty of people. An old couple sat huddled at one end of the bar, and a younger man, perhaps close to Severus’ age, stood behind it. He was hunched over, writing so intently that he didn’t seem to notice the newcomers. After a few minutes, another woman, younger and significantly plumper than the other women in the room, ambled through a door; she spotted Severus and Talair, then made her way toward them.
The waitress was ambivalent toward the new customers as she took their order. Once she left them, Talair spoke up. “My mother was an Efreet“ that’s a fire genie to common folk. I could step into those flames right now and it would be just like stepping into a warm bath.” She gazed at the flames longingly; Severus had no idea why she was sharing this information with him, so he changed the subject.
“Where are we exactly?” He had the fleeting, horrific thought that this bizarre woman had kidnapped him, and brought him to this practically deserted place, for some illicit purpose. But, that would be ridiculous. She could have virtually any man she chose and they would accompany her without the use of deceit. Why, then, did she bring him here?
She slowly wrenched her eyes from the fire and looked at him blankly. Then, with a surprised blink, she answered, “Oh, sorry. We are in an ancient village near Orkney. It’s an old Wizard village, but most of the inhabitants have migrated to warmer climates over the years. A few of the heartier families have remained though; there is an ancient burial mound not far from here that Wizards and Muggles alike still come to visit. It will be dark soon, but I can take you to the Ravenclaw ruins in the morning.”
Through their supper, Talair kept up a steady stream of conversation, mostly giving Severus information about the town as if he were merely some tourist on holiday. “You seem to know a great deal about this area,” he said as politely as he could; she was after all taking the time to assist him. He reasoned that showing manners was the least he could do in return. Perhaps if he succeeded in finding what he sought, he’d send a thank you note as well.
“Well,” she replied, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin, “I was born here, so I should know a bit about it. My mother met and married one of the village elders. My father was an exceptional Wizard and summoned her to combat a Frost Giant that was plaguing the village. If you know anything about Efreet, they hate to submit to humans and they can be quite spiteful. My mother seduced my father as retaliation for summoning her. Instead of being able to leave him pining over her as she planned, she became pregnant with me. Unwilling to be saddled with a half-human baby, she left me with him to be raised as a Wizard. I only have contact with her every few decades and he is long gone, but I still come here occasionally.”
This was more that Severus initially wanted to know, but the more he thought about it, he felt a slight twinge of sympathy for his odd companion. He knew all too well how it felt to be unwanted by a parent.
By the time they finished their meal it was indeed dark. Talair managed to procure two rooms and they separated to their own quarters for the remainder of the evening. Severus conjured a few of his books and read until he fell asleep, sitting up in bed.
He was standing in a wide-open meadow deeply blanketed with snow. The wind billowed his cloak out behind him and swept his hair away from his eyes. Directly ahead was a huge mound of earth; he stood facing an opening that appeared to lead down into the ground. The mound was also buried, but Severus could just detect a rectangular outline of green light on one side of it. He began to circle around the mound slowly and saw two more similar outlines illuminated beneath the snow. He finally approached one outline and stretched his hand forward “ he instinctively knew that he needed to touch it “ and then the entire mound was suddenly engulfed in flames, consuming him as well. The fire scorched and incinerated him; he felt as if his skin was melting from his bones. He attempted to scream, but no sound issue forth…
Severus awoke the following morning feeling strangely refreshed, buoyant and inspired. When he descended to stairs, he immediately spotted Talair by the fire. She held her head in her hands as if she had a hangover. Perhaps she isn’t a morning person, he thought, unconcerned. He rushed over and slid into a seat opposite her.
“In your ramblings last night, did you say that there is a cairn somewhere nearby?”
Her eyes flashed a bright, angry red and she scowled at him; it appeared that she would like nothing better than to gouge his eyes from their sockets and he felt momentarily afraid, but then her face softened and her expression was merely one of disgruntled disappointment.
“Good morning to you, too.” The sneer remained across her lips as she rolled her eyes away from his face.
Severus realized that he’d been extremely rude and ungrateful; after all, she was taking time away from her business to help him. Upon further inspection, she did not seem at all well. “I apologize. Good morning. You appear to be…ill. Can I help? Perhaps prepare a potion? I’m sure they have some basic ingredients in the kitchen.”
She gazed at him silently for a moment and he had no idea what was going through her mind, although he was curious. She replied, “No, thank you. I’ll be all right in a short while. It’s just a headache. You’re rather…energetic…this morning.”
“Yes,” he said, relieved to have the discussion back to a more comfortable realm. “I had an idea when I woke up that we might begin our search near the burial mound. I’m not sure why, but I feel as if that’s right.”
Talair had the faintest hint of a smile playing about her mouth. “Well then, the cairn it is. I’ll need some breakfast first.”
Barely an hour later, Severus and Talair wrapped themselves in cloaks and left the inn. The wind outside was howling as hostilely, if not more, than the previous evening. The village still seemed virtually deserted; occasionally a person would emerge from a dwelling wrapped in layers from head to toe. It was impossible to distinguish males from females.
Severus noticed that along the main road there were in fact a few shops open for business: a general market, an oil merchant and a butcher. He could not figure where the meat would come from to be slaughtered, but he chose not to dwell on the question, and decided to focus on the task at hand.
The burial mound was about a mile and a half away, so instead of walking the pair decided to Apparate there; Severus was not sufficiently dressed for a long hike in this type of cold.
Since the area surrounding the mound was wide open, the wind was having quite a raucous party, pushing Severus around and hampering his progress as he attempted to approach the cairn. His fingers quickly lost most of their feeling and he tucked them under his armpits to retain some level of heat in them. He turned to face Talair; she appeared completely unaffected and comfortable.
“I could warm you up, you know.” She had a feline smile on her face, slick and coy.
This time, he could not bring himself to scowl at her flirtation or to retort. The truth was that he could find no reason to dislike her and actually felt a mild curiosity about her. Also, the pragmatist in him was incredibly cold. “Can you, really? Or are you just amusing yourself at my expense?” He felt his cheeks relax and broaden into a rare, but genuine, smile.
“Stand still,” she commanded, grinning. She stood about three feet away from him and held her palms up toward him.
Miraculously, he felt the air warming and swirling around his body. Within moments, he was comfortable and the blood flowed back into his extremities. Severus was impressed and he lifted his eyebrows to indicate as much. “Thank you, but can I move?”
Talair chuckled. “Of course. The heat shield will follow you, but it’s not indefinite, so you’d better start searching.”
They found the front entrance to the tomb, which was closed off by a primitive, wooden door. Severus began to walk around to one side of the mound and concentrated his hardest. He needed to open himself, all of his senses, which was entirely counterintuitive for him. He’d become so accustomed to closing himself off from the world that it took him several minutes before he got the faintest sense of a green outline around the front door. Concentrating for a few more moments, it became clearer and brighter. He reached forward to touch the door, but felt an icy barrier before his fingers touched to wood. Recalling the dream, he looked for similar outlines at each side and found them just as he knew he would. The question was, which one would lead him correctly? None of the areas felt any different from the others, so it would have to be a simple matter of trial and error. Severus stalked back to the left aura; Talair stood perfectly still except for a subtle nod as he looked toward her.
He stretched his hand forward, tentatively. His hand reached within an inch of the snowy outer wall and then began to feel tingly. He pulled away, startled. Unsure of what to expect, Severus drew his wand from his cloak and touched the spot again; it immediately began to vibrate in his hand. He whispered, “Specialis Revelio,” and was amazed to find that the Colloportus spell had been used to seal a secret door. He raised his wand and prepared to utter the counter spell, but Talair interrupted.
“Wait, you have no idea what might be in there!” She approached him, drawing her own wand. “Maybe you shouldn’t go in alone.”
Wordlessly, he nodded and refocused on the door. With a wave of his wand and a whisper, it creaked inward to expose a pitch-black passage leading down into the earth. “Lumos,” he said softly; the tip of his wand illuminated. He had made it about twenty feet in, with Talair not far behind when suddenly he heard shuffling and scuttling. Then without warning a large furry shape shot out of the darkness and smashed into his midsection, throwing him backwards. Within seconds, he felt sharp teeth gnashing at his neck; he was barely able to fend it off. The creature was heavy, fetid and annoyingly agile. It clung to him relentlessly as he tried to grapple it off of his chest.
Finally, Talair shouted, “Relashio!” and the creature released Severus just long enough for him to raise his own wand and bellow, “Sectumsempra!” The creature let out a loud squeal and then thumped to the ground.
Severus remained motionless for a moment waiting, tensed, for the creature to attack again. He heard steps behind him and remembered that he wasn’t alone. Shakily, he got to his feet and lit his wand tip. He ventured into a small, dark chamber with rough earthen walls. An offensive stench choked him. On the floor, now muddied with the creature’s blood, lay an enormous brown rat staring sightlessly at the intruders, it’s belly split open. A quick but careful glance around the perimeter of the room told Severus that the room was otherwise empty. He staggered back into the snow and fought to keep the contents of his stomach contained.
“What the blazes…” Talair questioned with a disgusted expression on her face.
“A guardian “ arranged to be summoned as soon as anyone stumbles upon the entrance, I would guess; I assume that the other entrances will be similarly protected. Let’s hope that this was the worst, although I doubt it.”
“Well, if the cairn is so well guarded, maybe that means we’re in the right place.”
Severus had thought precisely the same thing, just a moment earlier. “Are you ready to proceed then? If you don’t want to…” He wouldn’t ask her to risk her own skin to help him. He wasn’t even comfortable admitting that he needed help.
“Let’s go.” She was already heading to the rear section of the mound. He wondered how she knew where to go next.
It was easier this time for Severus to sense the doorway. He soon discovered that it was not sealed or locked in any way. This fact disturbed Severus; it couldn’t be a good sign. He pushed the door open, but stayed back, waiting to see if anything would expose itself. Nothing came and the room was still. Not wishing to take any chances, he conjured a small ball of flame and directed it into the chamber. In one corner of the room, he could barely recognize the shape of a smallish chest. He signaled to Talair who was merely inches behind him and she nodded in understanding. He entered, wand held aloft, and approached the box.
He turned to her before opening it. “I believe that the artifact may be in this box, but I’m sure that some sort of trap has probably been set on it, so stand clear. And, don’t try to be a hero. Save yourself, if it comes to that. I would.”
She fixed him with an angry glare, but didn’t respond. Better that she’s angry than to have another death on my head, he thought wryly.
He inched toward the chest. It was rather plain and small, brown with tarnished bronze trim. He tapped the chest with his wand and it opened, again, too easily. A sliver of brilliant green light seeped through the opening and Severus felt his excitement grow. When it was open enough for him to reach his hand in, he did so. He couldn’t see inside, but he was sure that his quest was at an end.
His hand connected with a cold, gelatinous substance. He reached in further, but could not find the bottom of the coffer. The light shone brighter, to the point of being blinding, but Severus did not pull away. His arm was sunk in up to the elbow, but still he felt nothing but sludge. Swallowing an emerging sensation of despair, he started to pull back, thinking that there must be some trick to gaining the contents of this receptacle.
The room became a blur, only the green light remained…He called out for Talair and realized that she was gone and that he was alone…Gradually the light dimmed and he regained his sight. Still kneeling, he was in a gloomy, dirty room. Even with the curtains drawn open and the sun streaming in, there was despondency in this place. Severus recognized it almost immediately…
From his left, a hunched, lank-haired woman rushed in cupping her hands over her face. Severus could hear nothing; it was as if he’d fallen deaf, but he could see that his mother was sobbing harshly. Mere seconds later, a stocky man stormed in after her. He appeared to be shouting as he brandished his fists at her. She tried to retreat, but there was nowhere to go, unless she chose to make an attempt at dodging past him. She was visibly terrified. Severus longed and strained to help her, but was as immovable as a statue.
Severus’ father closed on her and one fist connected with her head, knocking her hands away. Bruises across her face revealed that this was not his first strike. He grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her. She tried to pull away, but did not have the strength, or possibly she no longer had the will.
Suddenly, a small boy ran up behind the man and pummeled him with tiny fists, his dirty face soaked with tears. Severus recognized himself as a boy.
His father rounded on the Young Severus and sent him flying across the room with one blow. The child seemed dazed and perhaps had gotten the wind knocked out of him, but he still struggled to aid his mother, who was once again under attack… The room blurred again, then cleared…He was in the same empty room…from his left, a hunched, lank-haired woman rushed in…
Again and again and again, Severus watched impotently as his child-self tried to intervene between his mother’s maltreatment and his father’s rage. Suddenly, he felt himself lifted and propelled through the air. He lay in the snow. Unsure what was happening, he hesitantly moved his hand to his face; it was wet.
He looked around slowly and saw that he was back outside the burial mound. The wind still howled and the sun continued to shine. Talair stood at the entrance, breathing heavily.
“Are you alright?” She asked shakily. “What happened to you in there? One minute you were reaching into the box, the next minute you went rigid and catatonic. I tried to bring you out of it, but then I realized that it was that light and so I tried to close the box, but it wouldn’t budge. So I got you out of there as fast as I could and once you had your hand freed, the box shut on its own.” She had gone pale and was now kneeling in the snow beside him.
“I’m not sure what happened. I was unable to move and I was forced to witness a memory…no, it was more of a composite of several memories all rolled into one. I couldn’t do anything but sit and watch. They were memories of…weakness. And, the longer I watched, I felt weaker and more…apathetic. I stopped caring what was happening. I became numb…” He couldn’t look at Talair and refused to say any more, although a part of him wanted to share the burden of the experience.
There was one door remaining, but Severus felt very apprehensive about what he would find there. It seemed that Talair was thinking along the same lines as he was. “Severus, are you sure that you want to continue this today? I’d certainly not argue against leaving.”
“No, there is still one entrance left. It has to be there. Don’t feel obligated to stay on my account. You’ve done more than necessary already, and I thank you for it, but I have no idea…I would not think any worse of you if you chose to leave now.”
“Is it even possible for you to think any worse of me?”
This statement took Severus aback until he noticed a subtle curl at the corner of her mouth. How was it that this odd woman could joke in the midst of such peril? Moreover, why did he feel compelled to respond in a way that would not offend her? Obviously, it must have something to do with the fact that she had just saved his mind from certain collapse, but he had a churning reaction deep in the pit of his stomach that suggested there was more to it than that; if he made it away from this tomb intact, maybe he’d give it some more thought.
“There is no good way to answer that. Suffice it to say that I could actually think much worse of you.”
“I’ll take that in the good sense, then. Well, if you’re committed, let’s continue on. I have a strong feeling that it’s impossible for one person to do this alone.”
Severus nodded solemnly and they walked side by side to the next entrance. Within moments Severus found the outline of the doorway and determined that it was simply locked and not magically sealed. He gently drew Talair behind him and whispered, “Ready?” From the corner of his eye he saw her raise her wand in reply.
In a low, steady voice he uttered, “Alohamora.” The door creaked inward. He stepped to the threshold and peeked in. Without warning he was grabbed by the front of his cloak and tossed across the chamber. A loud roar told him that the previous two guardians were not the going to be the worst he would have to face.
A ball of fire came into the chamber from Talair’s direction. Once the room was lit, he saw a hulking seven-foot figure preparing to charge toward him. Its skin was a deathly black, as if it had been charred. It had scattered patches of hair sprouting across its flaky scalp. The creature was slack jawed, angry and heading right in Severus’ direction at a terrifying speed.
He scrambled to get to his feet, but not fast enough. The creature grabbed him again, lifting him from the ground by his throat. It howled in his face again and Severus could see rotting, black teeth lining its gums. There were no pupils in the alabaster white eyes.
When he was thrown, Severus had lost his grip on his wand, which now lay several feet away from him. Lacking air, he found it too hard to concentrate enough to attempt a wandless spell. He thought that all may be lost, but in the next instant, Talair hurled herself at the beast, causing it to loosen its grip just enough for Severus to breathe. He choked out, “Accio wand,” and it flew back into his hand.
Severus whipped his head around, searching for his companion who was now in the monster’s clutches. It lobbed her toward the wall, but before Severus could react she twisted her body and her feet connected with the wall instead of her head. She landed with a heavy thud and looked dazed.
While the creature’s attention was on Talair, Severus had moments to rifle through his memories. In his mind’s eye, he could see the description in Magical Monsters: One Thousand Reasons to Avoid Them…
Draugr: an undead Viking usually guarding treasure contained within its burial mound. They cannot be defeated with weapons, but usually takes someone of incredible strength to best them. Their heads must be severed and the bodies burnt in order to be destroyed.
Severus was in no way physically strong enough to grapple with it. If they couldn’t use weapons, how could he and Talair possibly get out of this chamber alive?
A loud growl, brought Severus’ attention back to the chamber; Talair was slouched in a corner with her eyes closed. Severus allowed his fear to transform to anger. He raised his wand steadily and shouted, “Levicorpus!” The Draugr was swept into the air by its ankle, thrashing about, enraged. Now that he had bought himself a few moments to think, Severus needed to figure out how to decapitate the creature. He would not be able to get close enough without risking injury from its flailing arms.
“Diffindo!” The severing charm ricocheted off of the creature to the chamber wall, and a green light smashed into the ceiling releasing a spray of debris.
“Stupefy!” The spell hit, but seemed to be absorbed by the monster’s flesh and only succeeded in angering it even more.
“Petrificus Totalus!” Severus yelled the spell in frustration and was relieved to see signs of invisible ropes snaking around the Draugr’s body: its arms stuck to its sides, its legs snapped together and it writhed in the air. The Draugr shouldn’t have been able to move at all, but was still struggling considerably. Convinced that he had only moments before it broke free of its bonds, Severus conjured a wire garrote around the inverted Draugr’s neck. He swiftly approached and began to twist the rod. Even with the application of every ounce of physical strength he possessed, he was only able to turn it a few times.
Severus then heard a twang and the garrote went slack in his hands; at the same time the Draugr broke free of the body bind, turned and grabbed Severus by the neck again. Severus grabbed the thing’s hands in his, struggling to loosen its viselike grip. He gnashed his teeth as he again fought for oxygen, but the lack of it soon weakened him. He felt his strength falter; this was certainly not the way he wanted to die.
The Draugr shook Severus like a shark with its prey between its teeth. Feeling dizzy, Severus barely caught a glimpse of Talair struggling to her feet. She raised her wand and croaked, “Engorgio!” Severus felt his body began to enlarge and stretch. The Draugr lost its hold and Severus found that he had grown even larger than the mammoth guardian. Filled with a renewed fury, he whirled around to face his foe and grappled with the monster, neither giving ground to the other. He felt like a starving, feral canine scrapping to the death for a morsel of food. In Severus’ case, his quest was momentarily forgotten; this skirmish was strictly for survival. Finally, he succeeded in gaining a grasp of his enemy’s neck and with a desperate wrench, felt the spine crumble beneath his hands.
He slumped forward and shrank himself back to his normal size. He rested his hands on his knees for a moment and then rushed to Talair’s side. She had fainted, but was still breathing. After a few moments, he managed to revive her. The severing charm worked this time; now that it was dead, the Draugr’s head fell to the floor with a dull splat. Talair projected a stream of flames, engulfing it and the body, as Severus searched the chamber.
In a dark corner, wrapped and camouflaged in a filthy rag, was a shining bronze instrument that resembled a small mace. Turquoise inlay spiraled up the handle and a large ruby glowed from the handle’s center. At the base of the handle, a large eagle was meticulously engraved. It was the very object he had been seeking: the Aspergillum of Athena.