"Phantom Red"

Chapter Three: The Phantom

Severus glanced up to his left, for a moment he thought someone was in the antique mirror, which hung in gold gilt on the wall. No one there. Apparently he had been so intent in what he was working on he caught sight of his own reflection and was startled. Well, none of the students at Hogwarts would've been terribly surprised. Rolling his eyes at the way his heart had suddenly decided to skip a beat he turned and focused all attention back to the desk in the corner of, what had probably at one time, been the master bedroom.

He was on the second floor, working by candlelight now, the hour was late, probably nine or ten he assumed. Once he'd straightened up the house, using charm spells to tidy up, made certain to magically lock the 'girl's room' he suspected was the source of the spirit. He had moved his things into the second floor master bedroom. Granted, this was not his potion's lab but the quiet here was heaven-sent. No, Malfoy pestering him… no Potter…. He cringed at the thought of running into that headstrong brat.

Snape's eyes focused on the paperwork on the desk in front of him, lit by a single candle, he lifted a feather-quill and began to write. He deduced that by tweaking the ingredients of the Draught of Peace one could actually create a potion that not only relived anxiety, but put one into a peaceful slumber so relaxing it would actually relive stress. It was well known in the wizarding world, though only beginning to be accepted in the Muggle world, that leading a stressful life caused one to actually give one's body illnesses. If he could tweak the potion to give perfectly restful sleep he may actually have a draught that would lengthen the normal life span. Of course the main problem with this was the Draught of Peace was one of the touchiest potions and being too heavy handed he had already managed to melt his cauldron on two earlier attempts. If only Mr. Longbottom knew. He was only too happy to keep his personal notes on this project in his own apartments. Most of the time he merely ended up with a cauldron full of sludge… then of course he would have to find some way of testing this… stuff. He offhandedly pondered how the Draught of Peace had been tested, putting that thought from his mind he scribbled down the amount of the hellebore syrup he would attempt for this try.

A sudden sound of someone knocking roused him a bit. He moved toward the scale on the table beside the desk to measure the powdered moonstone. Happy with the measurement he tapped that into a small envelope and stirred it three times counter-clockwise. A sound of three distinct knocks on a door became louder. Snape started, and nearly lost track of how many times he had stirred the potion, "damn."

He brushed a splash of silver liquid from his chest, then glided back to the desk hurriedly scratching down what he had added to the potion. He began recording the color, texture and scent of the draught in it's current form. Snape hadn't even bothered to sit down he was so caught up in what he was going to add next. He flipped back through his paperwork to see what he had tried last time~

Someone pounded on a door.

"Oh, come in already," he hissed annoyed that he was being bothered while in the midst of his experiment.

Silence fell once again and Snape, too deep in concentration to really take note of the intensity which seemed to fall over the place continued nonplussed. Momentarily he remembered that he had forgotten to owl Albus he had made it safely but he dismissed this and continued on.

Severus brushed a lock of greasy black hair from his eyes, and noticed the stain on his robes was beginning to emit a pale gray waft of smoke, it was burning through his woolen shirt. He panicked for a moment and began to pull at the top buttons, his hand was burning from where he'd brushed at it absently then he glanced up to find the cauldron discharging an acrid smelling plume of smoke which was growing larger by the second. The cauldron itself had pitched to one side as the base began to melt through the heavy wooden table. The fumes were driving Snape out of the room and into the hallway.

He swore as the skin on his right hand was burning, he hurriedly unbuttoned the first couple buttons and wanted to pull his wand at the same time to repair his burning hand. The horrid smoke had filled the master bedroom and was following him out the doorway. The Potion's Master was coughing as he passed the girl's room… that was when he noticed the door was open….

He stopped there, incurably curious, with one forearm covering his face, his hand burned, sort of dangling there painfully. Snape was coughing furiously, the noxious fumes catching up with him… and yet, he couldn't stop looking at the door which had been flung completely open. It was dark within, the curtains were blowing in the night's cold breeze, and outside he could see the snow glittering in the blackened tree limbs… the snow in the moon's light on the lawn below…. He could now see this clearly, and the acrid fumes didn't touch him anymore?

Snape spun around and realized he was actually in the girl's room staring out at the cloud of smoke which was passing by that doorway unnaturally. He took a step forward, noticing that the room was in perfect condition, the furniture… the drapes were no longer torn, yet he'd done nothing to correct this situation magically. He dealt with ghosts all the time at Hogwarts, so that was really no big deal but having no idea who this was or what she wanted unnerved him a bit. He withdrew his wand with haste~

"Severus…."

He whipped around and found himself staring at a darkened looking glass, as he peered into it, it shattered.

"Professor… Snape…." Came that same eerie child-like voice, and there was nothing he could do but turn to find it.

It seemed borne of the poisonous fumes he'd created so neatly in the other room for he found himself staring out the door into the hallway. A figure appeared to him there, rolling in with the mist of acrid smoke… and yet, with her came that scent of rose that seemed to permeate the very walls of this place. She was a tiny woman, swathed in a long white nightgown, 19th century in style… the gown was gossamer… and seemed transparent as the smoke. She was pale… extremely so. With very long, straight white hair that nearly touched the floor… it was not glossy at all, rather the dull color of bone. But it was her eyes which held him… held him entranced. They were so pale green in color… they could not be natural.

"Severus…."

When he found his voice, he forced his voice calm… and cold. "You're corporeal."

Although she seemed to have a face for sorrow, she smirked, "did you expect a ghost?"

"I…" he faltered.

"You don't need that wand."

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to will his brain to follow suit, "Riddikulus!"

"Don't be afraid."

Severus spun 'round. He had felt her breath in his ear. So, she was definitely not a boggart. He couldn't stop his breathing from coming so fast… he tried to put the pieces together: 1) Not a ghost 2) Solid in form 3) Not a boggart. He grasped his wand so tightly he could feel his knuckles whiten.

She was standing inside the room now, no longer blocking him from running out the door, but she was much closer. Snape took a couple swishing steps backward unconsciously.

"Why did you lock me inside?" Her voice sounded more like that of a helpless child's than of the woman who was standing there before him, and as he considered this he saw her as a child, then as a woman again.

"Are you a Mistress of Illusions?"

"Questions?… Does that mean you don't have the answers professor?"

"How do you know who I am?" He thundered back at her.

She shrugged, one end of her tiny red mouth curving into a smile, then she lifted her eyes to meet his, tinged with evident fear. "I read your luggage."

"Enough of this little game. You are here only because Albus Dumbledore permits it. It simply will not do for you to go around attempting to frighten his staff." He realized this only as it was coming out of his mouth, even so it settled him down a bit.

She seemed perplexed. "And… who… is Albus Dumbledore?"

He gasped realizing she had no idea Dumbledore had bought this place and was actually protecting her. Snape took several more swishing steps backward, his wand outstretched before him. "He happens to be the owner of this house Miss…?"

"I am master here."