Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4272894.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Additional Tags:
      WIP, Mythical_Creature!Harry, High_ratings_to_be_on_the_safe_side,
      Minotaur_-_Freeform, Slow_To_Update, Not_Beta_Read, Author_Is_Sleep
      Deprived
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-05 Updated: 2018-02-19 Chapters: 11/? Words: 10848
****** Labyrinth Hearts ******
by Da_Foosa
Summary
     During the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is hit with an Unknown spell.
     It’s ancient & hasn’t been seen in over 1000 years…
     Of cause Severus now has to deal with it.
Notes
     I do not own Harry Potter or the legends.
     They belong to their respective owners; I’m just playing with them.
     No money is being made from this fic.
     The first few chapters are ALMOST verbatim from the Deathly Hallows
     book (starting on page 524), but for the purpose of this fic I kind
     of had to start where I did as I needed the info from the book to
     slowly morph into my idea.
     Un-beta’d but I used spell-check on my computer, if you do find any
     spelling/grammar mistakes please let me know (and where it is) so I
     can fix it, Thanks!
     Again I do not own Harry Potter; I’m just playing in the verse!
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes:
These 1st few chapters are heavily quoted from the book, I’ve done it this way
so that even if you haven’t read the books you can still pick up on where my
story comes in - Plus it leads into my little idea all pretty well so I’m
borrowing J.K.Rs words. There will (most likely) be more quotes from parts of
the books too seeing as I’m working from that time period, not sure just how
much I want to use yet, but they will be slightly altered for the sake of this
fic regardless. On a side note, I have never come across this idea before in
all the fanfics I’ve read, so please be kind and let me know if you have come
across it or if you even like it!
**Quoted directly from Deathly Hallows**
^Parseltongue^
'Thoughts'
-------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER 1
 
**They moved in silence, Harry’s gaze fixed upon the swinging beam of the wand
held in his fist.
At last the tunnel began to slope upwards and Harry saw a sliver of light
ahead. Hermione tugged at his ankle.
“The Cloak!” she whispered. “Put the Cloak on!”
He groped behind him and she forced the bundle of slippery cloth into his free
hand. With difficulty he dragged it over himself, murmured, “Nox,”
extinguishing his wandlight, and continued on his hands and knees, as silently
as possible, all his senses straining, expecting every second to be discovered,
to hear a cold clear voice, see a flash of green light.
And then he heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of them, only
slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel had been
blocked up by what looked like an old crate. Hardly daring to breath, Harry
edged right up to the opening and peered through a tiny gap left between the
crate and the wall.
The room beyond was dimly lit, but he could see Nagini, swirling and coiling
like a serpent underwater, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floated
unsupported in mid-air. He could see the edge of a table, and a long-fingered,
white hand toying with a wand. Then Snape spoke, and Harry’s heart lurched:
Snape was inches away from where he crouched, hidden.
“… my Lord, their resistance is crumbling –“
“- and it is doing so without your help,” said Voldemort, in his high, clear
voice. “Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make
much difference now. We are almost there … almost.”
“Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord.
Please.”
Snape strode past the gap, and Harry drew back a little, keeping his eyes fixed
upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the
protection surrounding her, but he could not think of anything. One failed
attempt, and he would give away his position …
Voldemort stood up. Harry could see him now, see the red eyes, the flattened,
serpentine face, the pallor of him gleaming slightly in the semi-darkness.
 
“I have a problem, Severus,” said Voldemort softly.
“My Lord?” said Snape.
Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a
conductor’s baton.
“Why doesn’t it work for me, Severus?”
In the silence, Harry imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it
coiled and uncoiled, or was it Voldemort’s sibilant sigh lingering on the air?
“My – my Lord?” said Snape blankly. “I do not understand. You – you have
preformed extraordinary magic with that wand.”
“No,” said Voldemort. “I have preformed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but
this wand … No. it has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no
difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those
years ago.”
Voldemort’s tone was musing, calm, but Harry’s scar had begun to throb and
pulse: pain was building in his forehead and he could feel that controlled
sense of fury building inside Voldemort.
“No difference,” said Voldemort again.
Snape did not speak. Harry could not see his face: he wondered whether Snape
sensed danger, was trying to find the right words, to reassure his master.
Voldemort started to move around the room: Harry lost sight of him for a few
seconds as he prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and
fury mounted in Harry.
“I have thought long and hard, Severus … do you know why I have called you back
from battle?”
And for a moment Harry saw Snape’s profile: his eyes were fixed upon the snake
in its enchanted cage.
 
“No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter.”
“You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not
need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one
great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing
that it is for him that it happened. He will want to stop it at any cost. He
will come.”
“But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself –”
“My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter.
Kill his friends – the more, the better- but do not kill him. But it is you
that I wish to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to
me. Very valuable.”
“My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But- let me go and find the boy, my
Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can –”
“I have told you, no!” said Voldemort, and Harry caught the glint of red in his
eyes as he turned again, and the swishing of his cloak was like the slithering
of a snake, and he felt Voldemort’s impatience in his burning scar. “My concern
at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!”
“My Lord, there can be no question, surely -?”
“- but there is a question, Severus. There is.”
Voldemort halted, and Harry could see him plainly again as he slid the Elder
Wand through his white fingers, staring at Snape.
“Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?”
“I – I cannot answer that, my Lord.”
“Can't you?”
 
The stab of rage felt like a spike driven through Harry’s head: he forced his
own fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain. He closed his
eyes, and suddenly he was Voldemort, looking into Snape’s pale face.
“My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill
Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin
cores, told me to take anothers wand. I did so, but Lucius’s wand shattered
upon meeting Potter’s.”
“I – I have no explanation, my Lord.”
Snape was not looking at Voldemort now. His dark eyes were still fixed upon the
coiling serpent in its protective sphere.
“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the
Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of
Albus Dumbledore.”
And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It
was marble white and so still that when he spoke it was a shock to see that
anyone lived behind the blank eyes.
“My Lord – let me go to the boy – “
“All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here,” said
Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “wondering, wondering, why
the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend
says it must perform for its rightful owner … and I think I have the answer.”
Snape did not speak.
 
“Perhaps you already know it? You are a cleaver man, after all, Severus. You
have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.”
“My Lord –”
“The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true
master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You
killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly
be mine.”
“My Lord!” Snape protested, raising his wand.
“It cannot be any other way.” Said Voldemort. “I must master the wand, Severus.
Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.”
And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who
for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: but Voldemort’s
intention became clear. The snakes cage was rolling through the air, and before
Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders,
and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.
^”Kill”^
There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape’s face losing the little colour it
had left, it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snakes fangs pierced
his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees
gave way, and he fell to the floor.
 
“I regret it,” said Voldemort coldly.
He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave
this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He
pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upwards, off
Snape, who fell sideways on to the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his
neck.
 
Voldemort swept from the room without a backwards glance and the great serpent
floated after him in its huge protective sphere.
Back in the tunnel and in his own mind, Harry opened his eyes: he had drawn
blood, biting down on his knuckles in the effort not to shout out. Now he was
looking through the tiny crack between the crate and wall, watching a foot in a
black boot trembling on the floor.
“Harry!” breathed Hermione behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at
the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted
sideways, silently. As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room.
He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching the dying man: he
did not know what he felt as he saw Snape’s white face, and the fingers trying
to staunch the bloody wound at his neck. Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak
and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Harry as
he tried to speak. Harry bent over him; and Snape seized the front of his robes
and pulled him close.
A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape’s throat.
“Take … it … Take … it…”
Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor
liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what
it was, but did not know what to do –
A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hands by Hermione.
Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was
full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him,
his grip on Harry’s robes slackened.
“Look … at … me …” he whispered. **
The green eyes found the black, but after a second, the hand holding Harry
thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.
Harry stared at Snape… he couldn’t believe that such a strong-willed man was
now dead.
Voldemort’s voice suddenly reverberated from the walls and floor, echoing
through Hogwarts and Hogsmead, so that everyone still fighting would hear him.
“You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you
have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die,
one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled
is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to
retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity.
Treat your injured.”
“I speak now to Harry Potter. You have permitted your friends to die for you
rather than face me. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If you
have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences.”
“This time I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I will find you. I
shall punish every last man, woman and child who have tried to conceal you from
me. One hour Potter.”
“Harry, we’ve got to go!” Hermione pushed him to move.
“Yeah mate, there are others that need us” Ron added taking a moment to try to
figure out how he felt knowing that Snape was never going to give him detention
again.
Harry nodded, and then slowly stood up. With one last long look at Snape lying
on the cold wooden floor, Harry ran all the way up to the headmaster’s office.
He needed to know what Snape was trying to tell him with those memories and
maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore will have left something there for him too.
**He figured it'd be a blessed relief to escape into someone else’s mind after
seeing all of the dead lined up in the Great Hall.
The memories swirled silvery-white and strange, without hesitation and feeling
reckless abandonment, Harry dove in trying to assuage his grief.**
***** Chapter 2 *****
CHAPTER 2
After viewing the memories, Harry awoke laid out on the floor filled with
terror. Unwilling to let it take control of him, Harry called for Kreacher &
Fawkes.
“Go to the shrieking shack and collect Snape’s body, do not let it be defiled.”
He said as soon as the house-elf and phoenix popped into the room.
Harry didn’t even wait for the pair to leave before he turned on his heel,
flinging his Invisibility Cloak over himself, feeling more alive, more aware of
his own living body then he ever had before, and walked out of the office, down
the spiral staircase and past the gargoyle for the last time.
 
As he walked through the empty stone halls of the only home he had ever known,
Harry thought on Dumbledore’s betrayal. He realized now that there was always a
bigger plan in motion, he felt so foolish for not realizing it before – that
Dumbledore wanted him to live for more than just himself.
The images of Fred, Lupin and Tonks lying dead in the Great Hall forced their
way back into his mind’s eye, and for a moment he could hardly breathe: Death
was impatient…
Harry chuckled bitterly … after all he had failed hadn’t he? The bloody snake
was still alive and now protected.
“Such incontrovertible truth… it must end and I must die” Harry thought as he
passed the Great Hall without looking inside at Hermione and the Weasleys … all
those others he had failed, those who had died and those who mourned.
 
He knew that he had parted from his friends long ago, that there would be no
good-byes, no explanations. This was a journey he had to take on alone, they
would do nothing but waste time and Harry was determined to do this one last
thing as quickly as he could.
 
He paused just outside of the Entrance Hall, taking a moment to look back into
the empty halls, perhaps hoping against hope that he would be noticed or
sensed, to be stopped but the Cloak held true as it always had, before bracing
himself and continuing on towards the forest.
 
Half way there he almost ran into Neville – one half of a pair carrying a body
up to the castle. Harry looked down and felt another blow to his gut: Colin
Creevey, though under-age he must have sneaked back just as Malfoy, Crabbe and
Goyle had done. He was so tiny in death, so still and quiet, completely unlike
how Harry remembered him.
Oliver Wood took Colin into his arms, leaving Neville free to collect another
person whether they were alive or not.
 
Harry took one last look towards the castle; people were starting to move
around, collecting more of the dead or comforting others. He saw no hint of the
ones he loved, no Hermione, no Luna, no Ron or other Weasleys.
He felt relieved in a way; would he ever have had the strength to stop looking
at them or keep going to his death? He didn’t think he could have.
 
Harry moved over to Neville, who checking another body.
“Neville.”
“Blimey Harry! You nearly gave me heart failure!”
Harry had ducked behind a tree before removing the Cloak: his idea was born out
of a desire to make absolutely sure.
Neville’s eyes narrowed “Where are you going, alone?” he asked suspiciously.
“Listen Nev, it’s all a part of the plan –”
“Harry you’re not –”
“No Neville, listen this is important. I might be out of sight for awhile. You
know old Voldies snake? Neville he’s got a huge snake … calls it Nagini –”Harry
rushes to get out.
“Yeah I’ve heard of it, what about it?” Neville asked.
“It needs to be killed – destroyed. Ron and Hermione know, but just in case
they-”
Just the thought of it made Harry’s throat close up, but this was important –
crucial – he had to be like Dumbledore, keep cool headed, ensure there were
back-up plans in place and others to keep going.
 
“Just in case they’re – busy – and you get the chance…”
“Kill the snake?”
Harry nodded “Kill the snake”.
Neville opened his mouth to talk but Harry cut in over top of him.
“I’m fine Neville, promise, just have to do something Dumbledore entrusted to
me alone before old Voldy dies.”
Neville patted Harry’s shoulder, released him and walked away to look for more
bodies.
Harry wrapped his cloak back around him. He felt cold rippling over him as he
came across Ginny kneeling beside a girl begging for her mother. Ginny was
trying to comfort her and Harry heard the girl say she wanted to go home.
Harry too wanted to go home, but he was home. Hogwarts was the first and best
home he had ever known. He, Snape and Voldemort, the abandoned boys had all
found a home here … and they would all find death here soon too – it was only
fitting after all; Harry thought.
 
He continued on his way, past Hagrid’s hut that loomed silently out of the
darkness.
There were no lights or sounds from Fang scrabbling at the door, no booming
welcome, no updates on Norbert…
He kept moving, and after what felt like years or seconds finally reached the
forests edge.
 
A swarm of Dementors glided past, weaving amongst the trees; he could feel
their chill.
He wasn’t sure he could pass through it; he didn’t have the strength left for a
full Patronus.
He clung to each second he was alive, it was so unfair that others had years
upon years to live, time to waste so much it dragged on.
Yet at the same time with every breath of cool air, the scent of grass, he
thought he was unable to go on, but knew he must.
The long game had ended, the Snitch finally caught and time to leave the air…
Suddenly Harry remembered the Snitch. With numb fingers he fumbled for a moment
with the pouch at his neck and pulled it out.
I open at the close.
Breathing hard and fast, it seemed that now he wanted time to go as slow as
possible, it just sped up, with understanding coming so fast it bypassed
thought all together.
This was the close. This was the moment and he pressed it to his lips with a
softly whispered “I am about to die”.
***** Chapter 3 *****
CHAPTER 3
After opening the Snitch and talking to his family, Harry moved through the
forest, his hidden companions acting as Patroni, and together they marched in
further, deeper and deeper.
Eventually they almost stumbled upon Dolohov and Yaxley, who after talking
about Harry not showing up, turned and headed back to their master.
Harry and his family followed them, knowing he’d end up where he needed to go.
He glanced sideways, his mother smiled at him and his father nodded
encouragement.
Finally… finally they came to the clearing that Aragog had once lived. A fire
burned in the middle of the clearing illuminating the completely silent crowd
of watchful Death Eaters.
He saw Lucius Malfoy, who looked terrified, defeated almost, and Narcissa whose
eyes were sunken and full of apprehension. All eyes were on Voldemort, who
stood with his hands folded over the Elder Wand, looking like he could have
been praying, or more likely, counting silently in his mind.
Nagini was still in her cage, floating behind Voldemort’s head, and she hissed
a warning to her master as Dolohov and Yaxley re-entered the clearing.
“No sign of him, my Lord,” Dolohov said trying his best to avoid the red eyes
and temper of the Dark Lord Voldemort.
“I thought he would come. I expected him to come.” Voldemort said in his high
clear voice, his red eyes on the leaping flames.
Nobody spoke.
Harry’s hands were sweating as he removed his cloak, stuffing it in his pocket
beneath his robes with his wand, he did not want to be tempted to fight for his
life.
“I was it seems … mistaken” said Voldemort.
“You weren’t.” Harry said it as loudly as he was able, with all the force he
could muster, not wanting to sound afraid.
The Resurrection Stone slipped from his numb fingers and Harry saw his parents,
Sirius and Remus vanish as he stepped forward into the firelight.
Right at that moment, nothing mattered but Voldemort. It was just the two of
them. The illusion was gone as fast as it had come.
The giants and Death Eaters all rose together with shouts, gasps, laughs and
jeers.
Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes had found Harry, he
stared as the boy moved towards him, with nothing but the fire between them.
Then a voice yelled –
“HARRY! NO!”
He turned, the scream even more terrible because he had never expected or
dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound.
McGonagall was bound and trussed, tied to a tree nearby. Her body shook the
leaves near her as she strained desperately to get to him.
“NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT ARE YOU –?”
“QUIET!” shouted Rowle, and with a flick of his wand Minerva was silenced.
Bellatrix, having jumped up, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, her
chest heaving in her excitement.
Only the flames and the snake moved, coiling and twisting behind the surface of
the glittering cage floating behind Voldemort’s head.
Harry could feel the magic of his wand against his chest, but he made no move
to draw it. He knew the snake was too well protected, knew that if he managed
to point the wand at Nagini, fifty curses would hit him first.
Still, Harry and Voldemort looked at each other, the Dark Lord tilted his head
to the side, considering the boy in front of him, and a singularly mirthless
smile curled the lipless mouth.
 
“Harry Potter” he said, very softly, “The boy who lived.”
No Death Eaters moved, they were waiting, everything was.
McGonagall was still struggling, Bellatrix was panting, and Harry though
inexplicably of Snape, he’s blazing dark look, the feel of his breath when he
lent in close to snarl at him in potions –
Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a
curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded.
Harry looked back into the red eyes, wanting it to happen now, quickly, while
he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed his fear –
 
“I’m going to enjoy killing you Potter,” Voldemort said “in fact I’ve got a new
spell to test out just for you … comes from Greece …over a thousand years old
and is quite unpleasant”
Harry tried hard not to roll his eyes, he didn’t want to stand here listening
to an evil spiel, he wanted to get on with it.
He saw the lip-less mouth move, a flash of brilliant blue-green light, and then
everything was gone.
***** Chapter 4 *****
CHAPTER 4
Once more Harry awoke with his face pressed into the ground, this time with
Dumbledore’s words echoing in his head “Of course it is happening inside your
head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?”
The smell of the forest filled his nose; there were a few hard stones beneath
him, his glasses cutting into his face.
Every inch of his body ached, the place the spell hit him felt like the bruise
of an iron-clad punch. He didn’t dare stir, remaining exactly where he had
fallen, his left arm bent out at an awkward angle and his mouth gaping
slightly.
 
He somehow expected there to be cheers of triumph and jubilation at his death,
but instead hurried footsteps, whispers and solicitous murmurs filled the air,
through it all Harry could just make out the shocked sobs of Professor
McGonagall.
“My Lord … my Lord …” It was Bellatrix’s voice, and she spoke fervently as if
to a lover.
Harry wanted to be sick, didn’t dare to open his eyes, but allowed his other
senses to explore his predicament. He could still feel the magic of his wand
against his chest and a slight cushioning under his belly informed him that the
Invisibility Cloak was also there, stuffed out of sight.
“My Lord …”
“That will do,” came Voldemort’s voice.
More footsteps, people moving away from the same spot. Desperate to see what
was going on and why, Harry opened his eyes by a millimeter.
Voldemort seemed to be getting to his feet, various Death Eaters were hurrying
away from him, returning to the crowed lining the clearing.
Bellatrix alone remained, kneeling beside Voldemort, looking up at him with
longing devotion.
Harry carefully closed his eyes once more, considering what he had seen.
Death Eaters had been gathered around their master, who seemed to have fallen
to the ground … something must have happened when he had hit Harry with the
unknown spell that looked a lot like the Killing Curse yet oddly different.
Had the evil bastard collapsed too? It very much looked like it.
Both of them had fallen unconscious, however briefly, and both of them had now
returned…
“My Lord, let me –”
“I do not require assistance,” Voldemort snarled coldly, and even though he
didn’t see it, Harry imagined Bellatrix retracting a helpful hand.
“The boy … Is he dead?” There was complete silence in the clearing, no-one
approached Harry, but he could feel their concentrated gaze, it seemed to press
him harder into the ground, he was terrified that a finger or an eyelid would
twitch.
 
“You,” Voldemort said, pointing his wand at one of the crowd. There was a bang
and a small shriek of pain.
“Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead.”
Harry didn’t know who had been sent to check, he could only lie there, his
heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined, but at the same time
noting, small comfort though it was, that Voldemort was wary of approaching
him, that Voldemort suspected that not all had gone as planned.
Hands, softer than expected, touched Harry’s face, pulled back an eyelid, crept
beneath the collar of his shirt, down over his heart. He could feel her long
hair, her fast breathing and knew she could feel the steady pounding of life
under his chest.
“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?” the whisper barely audible, her lips
less than an inch from his ear and her head bent so low her long hair shielded
his face from onlookers.
“Yes” he breathed back.
Harry felt the hand on his chest tighten, her fingers and nails digging in to
him.
Then it was quickly withdrawn, she had sat up.
“He is dead!” Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.
And now they shouted, yelling in triumph, stamping their feet ... but through
all of it Harry could hear a high awful keening sound, almost like a dying
animal, rising from a section in the crowd; it took Harry a moment to realize
that it was Prof. McGonagall. He opened his eyes a slit and saw her slumped,
hanging against her bindings to the tree, emitting that awful sound with tears
freely running down her somewhat battered face.
All the while the sky was lit up with bursts of red and silver wandlight
shooting into the air in celebration.
 
Still feigning death, understanding hit Harry like a bludger to the head.
The only way that Mrs. Malfoy would be permitted to enter Hogwarts and find her
son, was as part of the conquering army. She obviously no longer cared if
Voldemort won or not.
 
“You see?” Voldemort screeched over the tumult. “Harry Potter is dead by my
hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! CRUCIO!”
Harry was expecting it; he knew his body wouldn’t be allowed to be left
unsullied upon the Forest floor. He knew Voldemort would have to inflict
humiliation on his corpse to prove his victory.
Unexpectedly he was lifted into the air and it took all his determination to
remain limp, yet the pain he was expecting didn’t come.
He was thrown into the air three times, his glasses flew from his face as his
head hit the ground, he felt his wand slip a little beneath his robes and he
could hear his Head of House screaming at the Dark Lord to leave his body
alone, but he kept himself limp and lifeless. When he finally fell to the
ground for the last time the clearing echoed with jeers and shrieks of
laughter.
“Now we go to the castle, and show them who the victor is. You McGonagall … you
will tell them what has become of their hero” Voldemort said, sneering the last
word.
“Leave the body, none must touch it … now go, go and take the castle for me!”
Voldemort commanded his followers.
 
Harry heard Bellatrix’s high pitched giggle, then the crowd started to move, he
could hear his professor struggling to get to him – to try and take him with
her, but she was forcefully being dragged away from the clearing.
In what felt like no time and yet years all rolled into one, the clearing was
empty except for Voldemort who paused by Harry and kicked him in the head with
a sound of disgust.
“If I didn’t need your body for such an important ritual later, I would take
you to the castle and show those pathetic fools just how badly you failed
them.” Voldemort muttered, and then kicked him once more in the head, before
turning and walking away.
 
Harry lies there, in pain, dizzy from the blows to his head. Having fought to
keep consciousness all this time, he finally gives into the darkness and pain
that’s been coursing though him since being hit by Voldemort’s spell.
Slowly he knows no more.
***** Chapter 5 *****
CHAPTER 5
Up at the castle Minerva tells everyone that Harry died, and Neville, with a
cry of “FOR HARRY!” beheads the giant snake Nagini with the Sword of Gryffindor
to everyone’s shock.
The battle raged on after that, neither side willing to back down.
After hours more of fighting, the Death Eaters have just breached the great
doors of the castle, flooding into the Entrance Hall.
Voldemort takes note of the quarter moons position and finally heads back into
the Forest.
“My Lord, where are you going? The castle is almost ours!” Bellatrix asks
devotedly
“I have a ritual to perform … and never question me again Bella! Crucio!”
snarled Voldemort.
When he arrives back in the clearing it’s to find Potters body gone.
“POTTER!!!” Voldemort screams.
Suddenly, there is a rustling in the undergrowth and what sounds like a hoof
pawing at the ground.
Bellowing greatly, a Minotaur bursts through the foliage and charges at the
snake-like Dark Lord.
Voldemort casts the killing curse, but the bright green light just seems to
roll over the creatures head and down its spine. Before he has time to cast
again, the Minotaur’s horns pierce his heart and head.
 
Grunting with a bit of effort, the Minotaur pulls its horns free from the tree
the body had been pinned to.
The Minotaur doesn’t know why it’s here; just that it had barely awoken – still
disoriented – when this … thing barged into its territory.
On instinct it got up and challenged the intruder, the stupid thing didn’t seem
to understand so he charged and gored it dead.
With a satisfied snort the Minotaur shook his great head and flung the body
away.
 
“My … my Lord?...”
The minotaur swung his head around and saw another intruder, this one looked
different than the last one, a female who clutched at her arm, but he wasn’t
about to let these things steal his small territory.
He snorted then bellowed at the female. She shrieked in terror before turning
and running.
He chased her all the way to the edge of the forest. Pausing uncertainly, he
saw even more of the strange creatures; something in the back of his head was
telling him they were witches and wizards.
They were fighting each other in a heaving, swarming mass. He nervously pawed
the ground again.
The female he had chased was running towards the other white faced, dark pelted
creatures who were also clutching their arms to their chests as they fought
(“Wizards and witches in Death Eater garb” his mind supplied) screaming that
her Lord was dead.
 
Multiple popping sounds heralded the arrival of more creatures, these ones with
red pelts (“Aurors”his mind said).
They seemed to gather the DarkPelts together before taking them away, other
RedPelts looked as if they were tending to the Young or hurt.
 
After a little while a few of the RedPelts started to head his way with the
female DarkPelt (“Bellatrix” his mind snarled).
Tossing his head, he moved back into his forest, hiding from these odd, yet
familiar looking things and followed them back to his clearing.
Staying silent and out of sight he watched as they searched the surrounding
forest before picking a small black fragile object up and then approached the
thing he had triumphed over. He was pleased, yet still slightly disgruntled
when they removed the body from his glade – after all, now how was he to prove
that he was strong and could look after any potential Mate or Young?
 
Still he was not quite Full-grown and there were more of them then he thought
he could manage just yet, so he followed them back out to the edge of his newly
expanded and unchallenged territory to make sure they were gone.
Hovering in the shadows he watched as the ones left behind cheered upon seeing
his first successful goring.
Feeling smug about so many others appreciating his triumph, he turned and
headed back to his glade. It wasn’t a Labyrinth, but it was his and he knew
that soon enough he would find his own, then he could start the Mating Ritual
as soon as he found the right Scent.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     10/7/2015: Just fixed a part of this chapter that I realized was
     missing a tiny bit of info needed in the later chapters.
CHAPTER 6
 
The Minotaur had taken control of most of the forest after that first goring.
In that time he had watched as the BigNoHorns or the BigOne (“Hagrid”his mind
seemed to whisper) had come into his territory and taken boulders and trees
away. BigNoHorns never interfered with the other creatures of his forest, in
fact the BigOne would stop and help injured creatures.
The first time the Minotaur witnessed BigNoHorns approach an injured Unicorn,
he stepped out between them, his teeth bared and snorted a warning.
 
Funnily enough, BigNoHorns just sat on the ground and made silly little sounds
that seemed to sooth something within him. Slowly he had allowed the BigOne to
shuffle closer until he could touch the small Unicorn.
After that the Minotaur made a habit of following the gentle BigOne.
BigNoHorns would always talk to him, telling him how the castle repairs were
going, how the Death Eater trials were proceeding – it took a while for him to
realize that these Death Eaters were the DarkPlets he had seen.
 
The gentle BigOne also told him all about this boy, a warrior, named Harry
(something inside the Minotaur would twinge every time he heard the name) and
how even in death he was still saving people. How he had left instructions with
his house-elf to care for Headmaster Snape and had given all the proof needed
to save the new Headmaster from a place called Azkaban to his personal Banking
Goblin who refused to read The Last Will & Testament of Harry Potter but
wouldn’t say why.
Every time the BigOne paused in his talking he would tilt his head to the side
and then randomly say a name, at first the Minotaur didn’t understand, but then
he realized that BigNoHorns was trying to name him and if he didn’t put a stop
to it right away BigNoHorns would continue to call him by whatever he had come
up with.
At one point early on BigNoHorns had been calling him BlackHoof, BlackHorn,
followed with LongHorny and then a few others regarding his horns that the
Minotaur thought were inappropriate – though if he could talk like BigOne, he
would have happily told him that he was calling himself SharpHorn.
After all he took time every day to make sure they were as shiny, sharp and
sturdy as he could make them … they were very important to any Minotaur – their
pride and joy until a Mate could be found, and even then if you let your horns
become dull and blunt you risked losing your Mate to any old Challenger.
 
Then a few days after BigOne had told him that the Headmaster was free and had
returned to the castle, SharpHorn saw BigNoHorns talking with a long furred
DarkPelt who had a large unusual nose. SharpHorn instantly named him StrangeOne
for the moment although like so many other times his mind supplied another name
“Snape”.
BigNoHorn was telling StrangeOne about him, how he lived in the forest but seem
to be friendly as long as you weren’t a threat to those he considered his own.
The StrangeOne shook his head, waved his hand dismissively and then headed into
SharpHorn's forest with a scoff.
 
SharpHorn followed him to a number of different patches of plants that
StrangeOne seemed to get somewhat excited about as he carefully plucked them
up, stored them and softly put them in his basket.
SharpHorn tilted his head wondering what StrangeOne could possibly want with
such unpleasant plants. Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he crept
even closer.
StrangeOne seemed to be muttering to himself: “10 vials of Bubotuber pus,
Belladonna - 50 stalks and 200 seeds, 60 Death-Caps, 60 Deadlyius, 3 medium
sized bundles of Knotgrass, and 472 Nux Myristica …”
As SharpHorn crept closer still, he caught the softest wisp of scent, he
couldn’t help himself. He stepped out into the tiny clearing that StrangeOne
had just finished taking the odd shaped nuts from.
StrangeOne startled, spun into a defensive stance and drew his wand on
SharpHorn very quickly.
SharpHorn tilted his head and made a low guttural noise meant to sooth, but it
seemed to only make StrangeOne nervous, so taking a hint from BigOne, SharpHorn
slowly sat where he was and keeping a close eye on StrangeOne tried to look
into his basket while making the low guttural sound again.
 
StrangeOne tipped his own head but didn’t lower his wand any. Slowly he pulled
the basket back behind his long DarkPelt. SharpHorn made an unhappy noise and
shuffled around until he could see the basket again.
StrangeOne didn’t seem to understand which meant that they went through the
process a few more times before it seemed to click in his tiny hornless head.
“You’re curious as to what I have gathered?” StrangeOne asked.
SharpHorn made his low guttural sound again and carefully shuffled closer.
“So long as you do not touch them, nor attack me, I suppose you may look”
StrangeOne said after a short pause where he studied the Minotaur.
 
Severus had not believed Hagrid when he had warned him about a young minotaur
living in the Forbidden Forest.
‘Then again, why should I have when the last one died over a thousand years ago
in Greece?’ the Potions Master thought.
And without a doubt this minotaur was young … in fact young enough to still
have somewhat protective parents around …
Severus quickly took in his surroundings, even though he knew he would never
sense an attack coming.
“Perhaps you should go back to your Elders … I do not intend to be gorged over
your curiosity” Severus told the Minotaur.
SharpHorn looked up at those words … he didn’t have any Elders, he knew that he
should still be in their territory but even expanding his own he had looked for
them to no avail.
He made a sad sound and crept a tiny bit further, getting closer to the basket
and that enticing scent StrangeOne possessed.
***** Chapter 7 *****
CHAPTER 7
 
After copying what he had done that first time with StrangeOne an un-known
number of times, he was finally able to follow him closely and even helped with
gathering the strange things this “Human” seemed so interested in.
He even knew its real name now: “Severus”, such a strange sound that SharpHorn
had quite some fun trying to get a similar sounding noise to be recognised.
Once Severus understood, SharpHorn started to try and tell him what his own
name was … perhaps impulsively grabbing Severus’s hand and putting it onto the
tip of his right horn was not the way to go, he latter thought.
Still Severus was smart for a Human and after he had sulked for a bit, he
finally worked out what he was being told. SharpHorn was quite impressed
honestly, humans had such tiny heads... not even big enough for a pair of
horns.
“Well SharpHorn, I will be back tomorrow night to collect some ingredients that
must be picked during the full moon. Perhaps you will join me, perhaps not,
either way I shall see you when I next gather ingredients.” Severus said as he
stood up and dusted off his robes – another word SharpHorn had learnt, though
he never meant to out of Severus's embarrassment.
 
#%**FLASHBACK**%#
Severus had come into the Forest again; SharpHorn stepped out of the trees to
his left. There was no basket this time so SharpHorn started to lead the way
back to his new glade, the one he had only just claimed as his own after
winning it from a lone Centaur a few days ago.
It was pretty perfect for not being a Labyrinth, it had a nice cosy cave with a
big warm nest full of soft straw and pelts that he had collected, there was a
small waterfall near the caves entrance with a little creek winding around one
side of the clearing and best of all was the moss-covered top of his cave,
where he liked to stretch out and sunbathe. He even moved some boulders around
to make somewhere for Severus to sit and eat off of the ground.
 
Severus had the Scent and SharpHorn was determined to make this Human his by
proving he had a nice den, could provide for and protect him.
It was such a nice day to sunbathe, so hot his hide started to sweat
attractively; at least he thought so for a Minotaur.
When they got to his glade, he encouraged Severus to sunbathe with him, the man
was somewhat uneasy at first, but eventually SharpHorn got him to lie down.
Sometime later Severus got up, climbed down the side of the cave and after
drinking from the clear stream, started to remove his pelt. SharpHorn, not
knowing any better and thinking it was the beginnings of a Human Mating Ritual
eagerly jumped down and started his own Ritual.
 
He tossed his head happily and made a few quick deep bellows of welcome before
prancing up to Severus and circling him, getting as close as he could to rub
against him, without knocking him over. Then he retreated into the woods near
his cave before coming back with the sparkly vines he had found a few days ago
wrapped up his arms, around his waist and over the base of his horns.
Once more he tossed his head and bellowed before gracefully prancing around his
Chosen, in ever smaller circles, showing off his glade, the sharpness of his
horns, his strength and the pretty things he could give.
 
Severus just stood there, his mouth slightly agape and confusion clear on his
face. The Potions Master turned Headmaster had no idea what was happening, at
least not completely, not until SharpHorn got close to him again and started
making THAT noise.
 
Severus had spent a rare summer away from his Father on his  Mother's Uncle’s
farm as a young boy and had witnessed the mating habits between a bull and its
chosen cow. Needles to say Severus freaked out like never before.
SharpHorn didn’t understand what went wrong, at first he thought that running
and chasing was a part of the Human Mating Ritual, but he eventually stopped
chasing Severus as he came to the edge of the Forest and sadly watched his
Chosen run away to the castle that called to him.
 
That night and the few more that passed after, SharpHorn slept under Severus’s
black pelt; sad and confused. Perhaps his Chosen had run because SharpHorn
hadn't yet proven that he could protect his Mate?
It took a few sunrises and sunsets before Severus came back and painstakingly
explained that he had simply gotten too hot in his black robes and was just
trying to cool down without using his magic for such a simple task.
#%* END FLASHBACK*%#
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Slightly longer chapter :)
     Da_Foosa
 
Chapter 8
 
After fleeing the unknown and unexpected Mating Ritual, he had retrieved all of
the books he could get his potion stained fingers on about the Mythical Beast.
To say that he was shocked at being Chosen by the thought-to-be-extinct
Minotaur would be like saying that Voldemort was a fuzzy bunny!
From the small amount of information that was consistent throughout the scrolls
and books, Severus was able to piece together that the Chosen’s natural scent
had a lot to do with a Minotaur choosing a Mate, but other than that, all he
was able to find out was that Minotaurs were meant to be flesh-eating beasts
and that the Last Minotaur was killed by Theseus - who volunteered to slay the
so called monster, so that the youths and maidens of Greece would no longer
have to be sacrificed.
 
When Severus came back on the evening of the full moon, he was still a little
apprehensive of the Minotaur’s behavior towards him.
But after visiting the first small patch of Moondew without incident Severus
started to relax.
By the time he had gathered a large amount of elusive plant, some Moon-Stone
and Moon-Flowers, he had almost forgotten that the Minotaur was likely watching
him from the shadows.
 
He was just setting the basket down before stretching his back when he heard
the snap of a twig and an irritated growling from behind him.
He spun quickly, raising his wand as his eyes widened at seeing a transformed
Fenrir Greyback stalking towards him. Snarling furiously Greyback charged him.
 
SharpHorn was glad that he had decided to follow Severus all over the Forest
that night when he started to smell something rank. It followed his Chosen for
half the night before it attacked.
With a bellow of challenge SharpHorn jumped into the path of the attack on
Severus, but because of the angle he had intercepted the foul creature with he
was bowled over, allowing the werewolf to get a good grip and sink its teeth
into SharpHorns shoulder, causing him to bellow with pain.
As the two magical beasts fought ferociously, Snape cast a defensive field
around himself, called his personal house-elf to take the basket back to his
personal lab not wanting to have wasted a productive nights gathering, then
turned to step into battle.
SharpHorn had thrown Greyback off in the short amount of time it had taken and
Severus started throwing silver spells at the foul creature.
Slicing through Greybacks’ left arm, Snape watched in satisfaction as the wound
sizzled and smoked while SharpHorn charge again.
 
The almost grown Minotaur was concentrating on the threat to his Chosen, but as
he fought it didn’t go unnoticed that this was the perfect chance to show the
Human his strength and skill in battle, that he would be a good protector.
Charging the foul smelling werewolf, SharpHorn lowered his head, gored the
disgusting thing and tossed his massive head, throwing the werewolf away from
Severus before he turned and prepared another attack.
Greyback was snarling the whole time, but landed with a whimper and was trying
to drag his unresponsive body away from his should-be prey when the Minotaur
stomped up to him. The wolf looked up, staring at the half bull-man and with a
last short-lived howl to the moon, watched as the massive hooves came down.
 
Severus had obviously seen a lot under Voldemort’s reign, but found he had to
turn away as SharpHorn essentially trampled the rabid wolf.
When his challenger finally gave up his last breath and stopped twitching,
SharpHorn lifted his head to the night sky bellowing in triumph to announce his
win as he spread his arms wide to show off his muscles.
Severus turned back around at the noise, and raising an eyebrow, asked “Are you
done with the melodramatic display of victory?”
The Potions Master was a little surprised to see the somewhat sheepish
expression take over the Minotaur’s face but noted the proud way the half bull
held himself, subtly displaying his form for Severus to peruse.
“Yes, yes… well done. Your stronger then that rabid mutt was, I do not need the
after show thank-you” Severus drawled.
SharpHorn took a step towards his Chosen but stumbled with a bullish groan of
pain, before forcing himself to stand tall, still trying to impress Severus.
Rolling his eyes, Snape pointed to a log just outside of the clearing and told
the Minotaur to sit, muttering about Dunderheads and all brawn.
When SharpHorn was seated the Potions Master started tending to the beasts
wounds and once that was done, he turned and headed towards the castle as the
sun continued to rise, unaware of his silent stalker who was still trying to
protect him.
Sighing at how the night was spent, Severus headed towards his chambers hoping
to get at least a half hours sleep before breakfast, silently growling when he
got waylaid by Filch ranting about the little pests called students.
He was finally halfway to his rooms when the cretins swarmed the hallways for
breakfast.
Scowling so no-one else would try to talk to him, he was about to head down a
less crowded corridor when he heared the panicked screams behind him.
 
SharpHorn followed Severus up to the castle, his instincts telling him to keep
close to his Chosen after the attack. Once inside something started telling him
that he had finally found his Labyrinth, so he made sure to put his own scent
everywhere he went, rubbing his hands over the soft tapestries, scraping his
horns along the stones and scuffing his hooves on the floor.
Suddenly his Labyrinth was overrun with tiny Human-intruders of all shapes and
sizes, who once they saw him started screaming and running, hurting his ears
and attracting his eyes. Instinct told him to gore these fast moving little
beings, to make sure his claim on the castle as his Maze was complete, but he
knew he couldn’t, his mind screaming at him to find somewhere isolated-quiet-
safe.
Controlling himself so he wouldn’t hurt the confusing tiny-intruders, he turned
and followed another instinct, letting his hooves take him, and finally
slinking into a wet, musty smelling room with lots of little identical hiding
spots.
 
Having turned to run back the way he had came, Severus was surprised to see
SharpHorn inside the castle, surrounded by idiotic students screaming and
running; two things guaranteed to make a Minotaur attack.
Ordering the students to get out of the hallway, Severus was shocked to see
SharpHorn start to freak out and run away from the students instead of charging
them. He followed SharpHorn back down towards the first floor, surprised to see
him slink into Myrtles bathroom.
 
When he finally caught up and entered the first floor girl’s bathroom he didn’t
immediately see SharpHorn. Upon closer inspection though, he found the Minotaur
crammed into one of the toilet cubicles, the tips of his horns sticking up
above the cubicle attempting to hide.
Trying not to snigger at the large beast Severus just stood there, arms crossed
over his chest and brow raised waiting, like he would with any of the students.
Finally after a short staring match, SharpHorn cautiously crept out, poking his
head around the stall corner and making sure it was still safe before coming
out and eagerly standing close to his Chosen.
“Stay here brat” Severus sighed before going out into the hall, casting a
Silencio on the bathroom followed by a Sonorus.
“Attention all Professors and Prefects, please escort all students to the Great
Hall immediately.” Finishing the spells he went back into the bathroom to find
SharpHorn had followed him towards the door.
The Minotaur was constantly checking the doorway and trying to stand much too
close for Snape’s comfort.
“Still trying to protect me hmm?” the Headmaster murmured curiously.
A rumbling noise and firm hands slipping onto his waist were the only response
he got.
“Come along then you insufferable beast” Snape said, leading the way out into
the halls and back out to the Forest.
Once he had deposited the Minotaur back in his glade, Severus went back up to
the castle to deal with the frightened students, mindless rumors and talking to
the staff.
 
Over the next month Severus had to escort SharpHorn out of the castle two dozen
times. When SharpHorn had been found outside of the Headmasters quarters,
Severus called another staff meeting.
***** Chapter 9 *****
SharpHorn shuffled from one hoof to the other as he waited, his Severus had
guided him into a strange room within his labyrinth before leaving him there.
He could hear the voices of all the tiny intruders on the other side of the
wooden door that his Chosen had previously left through & did not like the idea
of being away from Severus's side.
After all, the tiny intruders ("children" his mind snapped) could be cruel &
dangerous, being so tiny they could get almost anywhere.
Plus his Chosen had ranted about the imbecilic little cretins just last
moonrise.
A hush suddenly seemed to come over the other room & he could hear the soothing
melodic tones of his Chosens' voice.
He rumbled softly in reply & shuffled closer to the door, nudging it open to
see, maybe this was a Human Mating Custom where they proudly claimed the other?
SharpHorn huffed, Humans were such interestingly strange creatures with their
funny removable pelts... no, not pelts... robes, that's what they were called.
Not to mention the removable hard hoofs that hid soft wiggly useless fingers.
Absently he wondered if all Humans hid the useless fingers, that maybe it was
similar to a Minotaurs sheath? Something only revealed to one's Mate?
He startled when Severus was suddenly in front him, guiding him out into a
large cave-room with the top missing, allowing the sun to beat down but without
the heat or wind reaching him.

SharpHorn tilted his head to the side & slightly upwards, his eyes half
squinted in curiosity to look at it as he was guided along, not entirely
trusting it, but feeling as if he knew it all the same.
Severus led him up to higher ground with other fully grown Humans sitting along
it above the tiny intruders, all respectfully lowering their gazes, just enough
that he knew that they weren't Challengers but still be able to watch what was
happening.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
SharpHorn kept a close eye on all the tiny intruders as Severus spoke.
He still didn't trust them, especially the tiny green one's who would try to
harm him but would turn & run away at his first huff, obviously they were still
testing their might, weren't grown enough for a Mate or Young like SharpHorn
was.
 
Then again the tiny blue one's weren't much better, always following him around
& getting in the way of his Courtship - this SharpHorn found to be most
annoying.
 
Thinking of this, SharpHorn crept closer to his Severus, adding in a bit of
Mating display when he had Severus's attention.
He did so enjoy his Chosen turning color that way, such a fascinating thing,
going from his normal pale to a pretty pink shade.
SharpHorn decided he liked it so much that he had to tell Severus & proceeded
to gently rub the velvety softness of his muzzle against his Chosens face.
Unfortunately Severus didn't seem to like it, as he pushed against SharpHorns
chest & grumbled about over affectionate oafs who needed to sit down.
 
Eventually the strange meeting finished & Severus came back to stand in front
of the young Minotaur holding out he's hand.
SharpHorn hesitantly took his Chosens hand & followed him to each of the 4
groups, where he learnt that each color was it's own tribe - SharpHorn decided
that he still did not like the shiny white pelted green one.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's been two moons since Severus spoke to the others in SharpHorns Labyrinth &
in that time the young Minotaur had quite thoroughly explored his castle,
finding even more, tinier creatures who seemed to be very good at finding food
& he had even discovered the quiet heart of his Labyrinth.
 
On nights that Severus wasn't patrolling, SharpHorn created he's den, bringing
in all of his pelts & other pretties from his forest glen.
One night as he was bringing back the last of he's shimmery vines, SharpHorn
spotted some of the strange smelly plants that Severus seemed to be so taken
with & after winding his pretty vines around his horns for safety, tried
grabbing the sharp, black & wiggly plant.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been two moons since Severus had spoken to the students about SharpHorn
& in that time he had become use to the beast eating breakfast with everyone in
the Great Hall.
 
This morning though, the Potions Master was becoming concerned as the morning
meal was finishing up & there'd been no sight of horn nor hide.
 
After the students went on their way to classes, Severus headed into the castle
to search, trying to find SharpHorns den which turned out to be futile.
 
By lunch he was on his way out to the greenhouses, when he heard two familiar
voices talking to Hagrid about a strange noise they'd heard from the forest &
questioning the half giant about any illegal pets.
 
On a gut feeling, the Headmaster listened in, before turning on a heel &
heading to the forest.
A few feet from the trees Severus heard a pathetic sound, indicating that
something was stuck, he was not prepared for the sight that greeted him.
 
There in a well shaded, damp crop of trees was SharpHorn, looking tired &
sheepish, pinned to a rock by the vines of a Devil's Snare.
The young Minotaur was trussed up with shimmery vines wrapped around it's
horns, Devils Snare wrapped around it's legs, torso, arm's & horns, & it was
obvious that the beast had struggled at least a bit as the vines were digging
in.
 
Seeing Severus, SharpHorn bleeted at him pitifully, before trying to bite at
the closest black vine.
Severus couldn't help himself, he's lips twitched, shoulders shook & then he
started laughing as SharpHorn continued trying to nip at the bloody plant.
SharpHorn took a moment to glare at his amused Chosen before trying to bite the
unexpectedly hostile plant again, causing Severus to bellow out yet another
laugh.
 
Eventually Severus calmed down enough to cast the appropriate spell to free
SharpHorn & then explained what the plant was, trying to figure out what the
Minotaur was wanting with it.
Chapter End Notes
     I just want to thank everyone for all of the wonderful comments & for
     sticking with this fic after all this time.
     I have NOT abandoned this fic, I've just been dealing with losses in
     the family, writers block & even more bad family news mixed in with
     moving house/town & getting a new job.
     Please keep being patient with me & I'll write/post more of the fic
     when I can.
     ♡ Da_Foosa
***** Chapter 11 *****
 
As Severus spoke, SharpHorn kept an eye on the hostile plant (Severus had said
it was called Devils Snare & SharpHorm thought it fit it's bloody name
perfectly).
 
When Severus started collecting some of the plant SharpHorn huffed & stomped
his hoof, how was he supposed to give the unholy thing as a Courting Gift if
his Chosen decided to get it himself??
After all, Courting Gifts were all about proving that he could provide anything
his Chosen might want or need... Not that he needed help getting out of the
clutches of a stupid plant & then letting his future Mate collect it himself!
 
Severus looked over his shoulder upon hearing the Minotaur stomp its hoof &
quietly chuckled upon realizing that the creature was full on pouting as it's
tail swished with clear annoyance.
It did not take long for the Potions Master to realize just what had gotten up
the beasts snout.
Clearly, he was not meant to be harvesting the young shoots of Devils Snare
himself.
 
SharpHorn waited unhappily as his Severus got all the plant he wanted & then
sullenly followed his Chosen back up to his Labyrinth.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
It was three days later that Severus noticed something wrong with SharpHorn,
normally the beast was waiting outside of his chambers each morning, would
follow him down to the Great Hall for breakfast & then, while Severus was busy
with the work of being Headmaster, Sharphorn would patrol the castle & grounds.
But the last three days, SharpHorn would be late to the Great Hall of a
morning, yet be the first to leave & he also was not in the castle until dinner
each night.
 
When Severus asked where he was all the time, SharpHorn just rumbled at him &
gently rubbed his snout over the Potion Masters hair.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
On the walk back up to the Labyrinth, SharpHorn decided that if he couldn't get
to use the hostile plant as a Courting Gift, then he'd just have to look for
something else.
So he started foraging through his forest, looking for anything of use or that
was exceptionally pretty.
On his second night of foraging SharpHorn witnessed something fall out of the
sky, at first he didn't know what to do... He was very deep in the forest &
when the thing fell it shook the ground fiercely.
 
After a few minutes of hesitation he decided to try & find it, who knew if it
was something that he'd have to chase off of his territory.
It took him most of the night to track it down & when he did it was to find
that it had half dug itself into the ground & whatever it was seemed to have
the ability to use heat & fire.
 
He bellowed at the intruder but it didn't even move an inch, eventually he sat
& watched it for the rest of the night, partially to keep an eye on the fires &
partially to make sure it wasn't a threat.
 
Over the following day & nights, SharpHorn returned to the strange new
creatures hole.
It never moved once, but over the days & nights it did start to cool down, to
the point that SharpHorn was able to scrabble down into it's hole.
 
He knew that his disappearances were worrying his Severus but he just HAD to
keep coming back.
SharpHorn finally discovered about a week after it fell, that the creature was
infact some strange kind of stone & not a creature at all.
He took the time to carefully dig it out & slowly moved it into the very back
of his old cave, once it was settled SharpHorn wasn't quite sure what to do
with it.
 
Should he try licking it? Maybe it was some kind of food-stone?
SharpHorn made a disgusted grunt... No, definitely not something to eat.
Maybe he could use it to sharpen his teeth, hoofs & horns?
Again SharpHorn moved in & tried to bite it, only to jerk backwards... That
HURT! Maybe it was a threat after all?
 
He watched it distrustfully for a long time after that just to make sure.
Then, when it didn't do anything, he decided to try his Horns on it.
SharpHorn tilted his head to the left a bit, so he could concentrate on that
horn only, then went to scrape against the stone, but instead of going along
the edge as planned, it seemed to bump his horn towards the middle.
 
IT HAD CAUGHT HIS HORN!!!  WITHOUT MOVING!!
With a terrified bellow, SharpHorn wrenched himself free & quickly backed away.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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