Chapters 141-150

Binder’s Bell

Alina shuffled towards Professor Snape’s office with her two newest bells clutched in her arms. She knew she was sulking, but she couldn’t help it.

Her plan had been perfect.

She’d find the remaining bells. Then she’d go to his office—or better yet, she’d ask for an appointment and then come to his office. She would present the bells proudly and explain how and where she’d found them. And then he’d start teaching her the secrets of the bells…

Instead he’d summoned her summarily to his office, scowling at her in a fashion that told her she was in for it because she hadn’t followed his instructions down to the last dot on the ‘i’ and the last cross on the ‘t’.

Life simply isn’t fair, Alina concluded. To add insult to injury, one of Filch’s kittens, a dark marmalade tom growing lanky with youth had appointed himself her guardian. The dratted beast was spying on her as soon as she left her House. She couldn’t put her smallest toe over the proverbial line without the little quarter-kneazle cocking his head at her as if he wanted to ask, ‘Should I fetch a teacher now or later?’

And then there was her jarvey. Cicero—by now firmly imprinted on her, and quite chatty in his strange mix of Latin vernacular and toddler-speak—resented being left alone in her dorm. He was quite demonstrative about his resentment, too. Not even the strongest ‘Evanesco’ would get rid of the rich musky scent that pervaded the room by now. Her room mates had threatened to go to her Head of House to get either the jarvey or Alina or both out of their dorm. She couldn’t even blame them. Or Cicero for that matter.

And why was she always so tired? Alina yawned, shifted the bells in her arms, and knocked on the door of Snape’s office.

‘Come in,’ Professor Snape called in his customary smooth voice, and the heavy black door opened before her without a sound.

‘You asked to see me, sir,’ Alina managed and stepped into the room. The door slammed shut behind her.

‘Yes, indeed I did, Miss Petrel. Don’t stand there, gawking. Come here, put those bells on the desk and sit down.’ A finger tapped impatiently on the edge of his ebony desk.

She inched forwards and unceremoniously set down her prizes.

Professor Snape bent forwards, narrowing his eyes to black slits. ‘Kibeth,’ he said softly. ‘The Walker who brings freedom of movement to the dead or takes them beyond the next gate. And Astarael, the Sorrowful, the final bell, that casts everyone who hears her sound deep into Death…’ He sighed. ‘Twenty points from Slytherin House for disobeying my explicit orders. Four points to Slytherin House for finding the bells.—Where did you find them?’

‘I—oh—ah,’ Alina stuttered. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

He pinched the bridge of his nose, then repeated more forcefully, ‘Where did you find them? Miss Petrel, I can’t hear you.’

Alina gulped. ‘The—the one you called Kibeth, it was with the house-elves. They have a whole floor with enchanted bells at the wall, arranged by rooms, back from when wizards would use bells to summon house-elves. And this one wouldn’t ring. And it looks just like the others, silver with mahogany handle.’ Alina gasped for breath and hurried on. ‘And the other one was in the music room. Alyah—Miss Beiond—from Ravenclaw found it. It was in the cupboard with the old and broken instruments.’

‘And you assume that the last bell is in the bell tower?’ he asked, face impassive, voice cool and silky.

Alina nodded. ‘Yes, sir. It’s the pattern. Qui—my—he hid them in plain sight, most of them, anyway. Apart from the one behind his portrait, and the one in the Room of Requirement. And if it’s the biggest, deepest bell that’s still missing, that would make sense.’

She tried not to look too hopeful as she looked from the bells to her Head of House. Would he allow her to accompany him to the bell tower? But his next words crushed her hopes.

‘Very well,’ Professor Snape said brusquely. He raised his hand, and although he hadn’t used his wand or said a word, the door opened again. ‘You may go.’

oooOooo

His steps were heavy as he approached the bell tower.

Damn you, Quirrell, Severus thought. But his thoughts lacked rancour. He’d long since come to terms with the man’s deeds and motivations. He knew too much about the almost inescapable lure of knowledge, recognition, respect…and the more elusive, barely acknowledged need to belong.

And now…He muttered the password and stepped into the dark staircase of the tower. When he thought of Quirrell now, it was mostly with envy, envy for that spirited, brilliant, and beautiful girl that the man could have called daughter.

Slowly he ascended the stairs. The wind that blew in through the open windows moaned in the nooks and crannies of the building. Once he reached the top, Severus used the opportunity to gaze outside. The stark, melancholy beauty of the Highlands tugged at his heart, just like the vista of the many towers and turrets that made up Hogwarts castle, that made up his home.

Resolutely, he turned to the bells.

Lion’s roar, Raven’s call, Badger’s growl, and Serpent’s Hiss. Admonita for storm’s warning, Hora for the hours’ turning. And…the mysterious silent bell.

He shook his head and wondered why he’d never realised the significance of the silver bell before.

For a moment Severus hesitated and stared at the silver body of the bell and the intricate runes that covered it. Then he pushed away all thoughts of what might have been aside and reached up to detach the bell from its hinges.

Saraneth, it was, the deepest and lowest of the Necromantic bells. The Binder, the bell who would shackle the Dead to the will of its wielder.