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CHAPTER NINETY TWO - 🍂 a ୧ . . .
game of cat & mouse ও🦌

AUTUMN BLINKED as her eyes slowly came into focus. She found herself dazed and disoriented, her mind reeling like a film on fast-forward. Memories and thoughts swirled in her mind, both unfamiliar and familiar.

She felt disconnected as if her mind wasn't entirely her own, but she couldn't pinpoint why. It was as if she was stuck in a liminal state, suspended between reality and... something else.

As she took in her surroundings, Autumn realized that she was standing in an open field under the early morning sun. The air felt different, heavier and denser as if carrying the weight of something unspoken.

The expanse of open space was vast and seemed to stretch endlessly, presenting an ominous feeling rather than the peaceful tranquillity of a normal countryside view.

As she took the first steps into the open field, a strange calm washed over her. The wind gently caressed her skin, whispers of a forgotten language dancing at the edge of her mind. But it was not only the wind that whispered now. Her own footsteps seemed to echo in her mind, a rhythmic beat that somehow felt familiar as if she had walked this path many times before.

Despite the strange familiarity, the sense of emptiness and isolation pervaded the field. There was no sight of trees, no sound of life, not even a bird in the sky. It was like she was the only living thing in this vast expanse, a lone figure in an endless journey.

As Autumn continued her journey, the landscape shifted from the open field to a dense forest, but the transformation went almost unnoticed as she remained intensely focused on the path ahead.

In time, she stumbled upon a humble shack, standing alone in the heart of the forest. At first glance, it appeared ordinary, a simple dwelling that offered a bit of respite in the wilderness. As she came to a stop, the silence of the forest seemed to amplify, a stark contrast to the whispers that had followed her all this way. The shack seemed to stare back at her, a silent sentinel guarding the secrets of this strange place.

The shack was undeniably small and cramped, and a layer of filth covered every corner, a testament to its age. Yet, despite the obvious wear and tear, someone, or something, had made an effort to keep the place somewhat presentable.

Autumn cautiously inspected the exterior of the shack, her eyes tracing over every crack and crevice. With a firm step, she approached the door, her hand reaching out and pushing it open ever so slightly.

The creaking sound of the old hinges made her skin crawl as if the shack itself was groaning under some invisible burden.

With the door now partially open, a draft of cold air blew past her, carrying with it the scent of decay and old memories. She hesitated for a moment, her hand still resting on the doorknob, wondering what secrets the shack might hold.

Gathering her courage, she drew a deep breath and stepped inside, her footsteps muted on the gritty wooden floor. The inside was dimly lit, the meagre light filtering through the cracked and grimy windows casting eerie shadows on the walls. Dust danced in the air, stirred up by her entrance, coating the already filthy interior even further. Boxes, old and dusty, were stacked in every corner, their contents hidden and unknown.

As she stepped through the threshold, the slamming of the door made her heart skip a beat. The silence, punctuated only by the ticking of the old clock, was suddenly suffocating. The metallic rhythm, like a countdown, echoed in her ears, an ominous reminder that she was now part of some strange game, like a game of cat & mouse.

Autumn's gaze drifted to the small, grimy window, her eyes widening as she saw the shadows outside slowly growing. A sense of dreadful anticipation washed over her, and she understood the silent threat of what would happen if she failed to find what she sought before she was engulfed by the darkness.

The old clock, with its rusty hands and ominous ticking, seemed to be the harbinger of her fate. The ticking sound was both a countdown and a challenge. She had to find what she needed and find it fast before the unknown threat closed in on her.

Her movements were frantic, her hands clawing through old, dusty boxes, rummaging through the old cabinets. Autumn muttered desperately to herself, her voice shaky and fearful.

"What? What do I need to find?"

Time ticked relentlessly, each second a grain of sand slipping through her fingers. She was searching everywhere, her mind racing almost in a panic, her body driven by a frantic, primal instinct.

Each box she opened was filled with ancient, worthless things, old trinkets and useless knickknacks that held no value to her mission. The cabinets and shelves were mostly empty, save for some old, crumbling books that didn't hold any answers.

She cursed under her breath, her frustration growing with each passing second.

"This can't be it," she muttered, desperation seeping into her voice. "There has to be more, there has to be something!"

The ticking of the clock, like a relentless drumbeat, followed her every step. It was as if the very air in the shack was growing heavier, the seconds ticking by, bringing the impending darkness ever closer.

Autumn's frenzied search led her through the small, cramped rooms of the shack. The house, consisting of only three spaces, felt even more claustrophobic in her panicked state.

The three rooms - the kitchen, the living room, and the two doors off the main room - all seemed like dead ends. The doors, with their faded paint and worn doorknobs, taunted her, challenging her to explore what lay beyond.

She flung open one of the doors, revealing a small, dark storage room. It was crammed with boxes and old junk, but a quick glance told her nothing there would be of any use. She slammed the door shut, her frustration growing.

The next door led to a small bedroom, sparsely furnished and almost devoid of anything useful. A small, creaky bed stood in one corner, and a tattered rug lay in the middle of the floor. But there was no sign of the object she sought, nor any clues as to its whereabouts.

The panic was almost palpable now as she frantically continued her search. Every inch of the small rooms was examined, every crack and crevice searched, but to no avail. The object she sought remained elusive, hiding from her in the shadows.

As the darkness loomed closer outside, she felt a strange sensation underfoot. One of the floorboards creaked differently, a sound that stopped her mid-search.

She paused, her mind racing. Why did this board sound different? Was it just a coincidence, or was there something hidden underneath?

With a new sense of focus, she knelt, her fingertips tracing the edges of the suspicious floorboard. The ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder, a constant reminder of the time she was losing.

She grit her teeth, determined to get to whatever was hidden beneath the floorboard. Her fingers, now stained with dirt and sweat, gripped the edge and pulled, but the wood was old and stubborn.

In a desperate move, she used her nails, pushing and clawing at the hardwood. Her nails dug into the rotting wood, one of them peeling and tearing slightly.

It was painful, and the sensation of her torn nail only fueled her desperation. The ticking of the clock, relentless, reminded her that time was running out. She had to find this hidden object before the darkness took her.

With a last, forceful pull, the old floorboard came loose. Her skin, raw and bleeding, stung from the effort, but she ignored the pain. Her attention was now solely on what the floorboard had been hiding.

The moment her fingers touched the small box, the whispers from within became clearer. They were familiar, almost nostalgic. A sudden rush of memories flooded her mind, piecing together the fragments of her lost identity.

Suddenly, she remembered everything. The Diadem, the inexplicable transport, the confusion—it all made sense now.

She realized that the small box in front of her, like the Diadem, was another Horcrux.

Her hand, trembling slightly, continued to touch the box. And just as before, the world around her began to spin and shift. The cabin in the forest, and the ticking of the clock, all began to blur and melt away as the box pulled her through time and space once more.

The journey was nauseating, a dizzying whirl of colour and sound. She felt herself falling, her stomach flipping as the world around her transformed.

And yet, there was also pain—a burning sensation seared through her hand, the touch of the Horcrux making itself known.

Finally, she hit the ground with a dull thud, landing amidst fallen leaves that had turned the forest floor into a sea of autumnal colours.

She lay there for a brief moment, dazed and trying to regain her bearings. The pain in her hand faded as the intense energy of the Horcrux subsided.

She sat up, her eyes darting around as she soaked in the new surroundings. This was not the same forest where she had been before...

The air was crisp and real, not the artificial feel of the shack. She was back in a world that made sense. Pushing herself up from the forest floor, she clutched the box tightly, her expression a mix of relief and concern.

As she took in her surroundings, her eyes landed on a familiar sight. There, just a few feet away, lay Snape, unconscious.

"Sev!" Her voice echoed through the silent forest as she rushed to his side. She dropped to her knees beside Snape, fear and worry flooding her.

"Sev, can you hear me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She reached out and gently touched his shoulder, desperately hoping for a response.

But there was no movement, no sign that he was conscious. His body lay still, and she felt a wave of panic rise within her. She shook his shoulder, a little harder this time.

"Sev, wake up. Please, wake up," she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

The silence that followed her plea was deafening. The only sound was the rustling of leaves as the wind played through the branches above. The silence and stillness were unnerving, the absence of response sending a chill down her spine.

...

Severus Snape suddenly sat up with a start, his eyes fluttering open. But his mind was elsewhere, his consciousness submerged in an aquatic reality that almost touched his face.

As he pushed himself to stand, the water around him barely reached his knees. Confusion and bewilderment etched across his features as he took stock of his odd surroundings.

He reached out, his hands splashing as he tried to gain his bearings. The water around him was cool, almost soothing, but it was an eerie and surreal environment. He didn't recognize this place, and the suddenness of his arrival here disoriented him.

He took a step forward, feeling the water push back against his legs, slowing his movement. He looked around, searching for any landmarks or signs of familiarity.

Severus watched in surprise as the dense water around him began to change. Grass sprouted, pushing through what was once a liquid floor. As he observed, he realized that with each blade of grass, a flower bud began to form, as if nature was blossoming before him.

Each flower remained tightly closed, not yet ready to reveal its full beauty to the world.

Severus began to walk, the field of water, grass and buds stretching out endlessly. Each step he took felt strangely serene, the soft splash of water with each stride, the sight of budding flowers around him.

The silence, as thick as the water, was only broken by his footsteps and the occasional sound of the water rippling. He wandered on, following the path laid out before him.

Time seemed to lose its meaning in this surreal landscape. The grass and water spread out in all directions as far as the eye could see, the budding flowers adding splashes of colour to the otherwise monotonous scenery.

He had no sense of how long he had been walking or how far he had come. The only constant was the rhythmic sound of his footsteps and the soft splash of the water.

The scenery began to change subtly as he walked. The grass, once low and vibrant green, began to grow taller, reaching up to his knees. The water, too, seemed to recede, leaving a larger path of dry grass to walk upon.

Severus felt an unexpected shift in his surroundings. Suddenly, he saw a beautiful woman. He couldn't place her, but a deep, instinctual sense told him she was significant. As he stared, paralyzed, the transformation began. Bit by bit, the woman changed, her human form morphing into something serpentine.

The change was slow and torturous, each moment filled with a sense of dread and awe.

The snake, large and ominous, hissed softly, its tongue flickering out in a sinister manner. It seemed to regard Severus with an almost sentient look as if it was aware of his presence and his confusion.

The snake stared at him intently, its gaze unnerving. But within its eyes, he heard whispers—cries and pleas for release. The realization struck him, a feeling of dread mixing with his confusion.

"A Horcrux," he murmured, his voice almost a breath. He remembered then. This snake, according to Elliot, shouldn't exist until 1994. Yet here it was, in an altered timeline, with their knowledge changing the course of events.

Unbeknownst to him, Snape reached out his hand, and surprisingly, the snake hesitated before it slowly began to make its way over.

As the snake glided towards him, Snape could almost feel its conflicted emotions—confusion, loyalty to its supposed master, but also a pang of guilt.

And within the snake's mind, a name echoed: Nagini.

Nagini—the serpent now within Snape's reach, its scales glistening in the strange light of this place. The snake nuzzled against his hand, a serpentine form against his skin, but it didn't seem threatening. Instead, its action seemed almost affectionate.

The snake, Nagini, was conflicted. Comfort and guilt warred within her, her serpentine brain struggling to reconcile the two. She nuzzled against his hand again, seeking something from him, perhaps not fully understanding what or why.

But there was an underlying desire, a silent plea: for him to end her, to give her release from the turmoil she experienced.

The moment the snake, Nagini, made contact with his outstretched hand, Snape's eyes snapped open, jolting him back to reality. The dream-like world he'd been in vanished in an instant.

Autumn, who was sitting nearby, almost jumped at the sudden movement, her eyes widening at the sight of Snape awakening.

He was lying on the forest floor, the leaves and twigs of the woodland floor biting into his back. He sat up, a look of dazed confusion on his face, his hand still outstretched as if he might feel the cool scales of a snake beneath his fingers.

Out of nowhere, a memory flashed through his mind—a searing, unbearable pain tearing through his neck. He screamed out, his body writhing on the forest floor in agony.

Each image that came to him was a stabbing reminder—the cold gaze of Nagini as she attacked him, her fangs sinking into his flesh, the slow, painful death encroaching.

"Sev!" Autumn reached for him, her voice filled with concern. She tried to hold onto him, but in his pain-induced flailing, he accidentally struck her.

She refused to let go, holding his arms firmly in an effort to stop his writhing. Concern and fear painted across her face as she watched his body fight against an enemy she could not see.

As the pain slowly receded, he could faintly hear a whispered 'sorry'. The tormenting visions faded, leaving him gasping and panting on the ground. He groaned the memory of his previous death flooding through him suddenly.

Autumn, holding onto his arms to keep him from harming himself further, released her hold, seeing him go limp against the forest floor.

"I..." he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, "I remember now."

Autumn watched as Snape spoke, his voice weakened by the experience he'd just endured. The forest was quiet, as if holding its breath, anticipating his next words. "I remember," he repeated, his words a quiet declaration.

Autumn sat beside him, her fingers tracing small circles on his arm, a reassuring gesture. "Remember what?" she asked gently, her eyes wide and worried.

Snape took a deep breath, his shoulders heaving as he struggled to compose himself. The memories were still raw, the pain of the snake bite still echoing through his body. He looked at her, his dark eyes a pool of recollection.

"Everything," he replied, his voice low and raspy. "My life... my death..."

His hand slowly went to his neck, feeling the phantom pain of Nagini's fangs.

"...Who I became," he echoed, the words laden with the weight of guilt and regret.

Though he didn't voice it aloud, images of Lily flashed before his mind, her memory a constant in his thoughts.

"The mistakes I made..."

His hand unconsciously moved to his neck, the memory of Nagini's lethal strike seared into his memory.

He looked at her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "Death isn't the end, it seems," he murmured, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips.

He sat up slowly, wincing slightly as the movement tugged at the phantom pain in his neck. The trees around them seemed to hold their own secrets, silent witnesses to his confession.

Snape sat up, his body protesting against the movement.

"The snake," he mumbled, a grim look on his face. "I remember her too clearly. The Horcrux..."

Autumn looked at him, confusion clouding her features.

"Nagini," he said, his voice carrying a weight of significance. "The snake... she will find me when the time is right. She wants me to be the one to destroy her."

"Wants you to destroy her?" Autumn repeated, her voice holding a note of scepticism.

"Yes," Snape replied, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "She took my life before, and now she wants me to end her before she is ever ordered to do it again."

He was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. Autumn could see a mixture of emotions in his eyes—weariness, guilt, and perhaps a hint of resignation. As the silence settled between them, the only sound was the soft whisper of the wind through the trees.

Autumn broke the silence, her fingers lightly resting on the lid of the box. "I at least have this in my possession."

She looked over her shoulder, pointing at a large rock nearby. "And the diadem is right there. I've already placed a barrier around it, just to be on the safe side. I don't want it to try to lure me again."

Snape looked at the box cradled in her hands, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He then turned his gaze to the direction she pointed at. The sight of the diadem, shimmering atop a rock, filled him with a mixed sense of apprehension and determination.

With a sense of urgency, Autumn placed the box on the floor. "Do you know a spell to encase this one in some kind of protective barrier?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of worry.

"I've tried already but the box seems to be resisting any attempts," she continued. "The protective charm on it is slowly fading, and whatever is inside is clearly not something safe for us to touch."

Snape furrowed his brow, his mind already working on possible solutions. He knelt down next to the box, his fingers tracing the edge of the lid, feeling the magic that repelled any sort of barrier spell.

"The protections on the box may be designed to resist standard ward spells," he stated quietly, his eyes studying the object in front of him. "We need something... stronger."

He thought for a moment, his gaze flickering between the box and the diadem nearby. The diadem seemed to pulsate slightly, its presence a constant reminder of the danger it represented.

Snape nodded, focusing his attention on the surrounding area. With a graceful wave of his wand, he cast a protective warding spell around their campsite. A shimmering, translucent barrier appeared, encircling the area, providing a shield against potential threats.

The ward established Snape gave a nod of satisfaction. The barrier was strong and would, for now, provide a safe haven for their temporary abode.

"That should keep us safe," he announced, his gaze scanning the campsite and the shimmering shield around them. He then turned his attention back to the box, its contents still a mystery, but a danger they couldn't ignore.

Snape looked at Autumn as she began to prepare their temporary shelter. "All right," he said, his voice calm and controlled. "Give me a few hours. Make yourself comfortable."

Autumn nodded silently, getting up to rummage through her bag. She began to transfigure various items she had into things to pass the time during the hours that he needed for his work.

The campsite filled with the sounds of Autumn's transfiguration spells as she turned mundane objects into something useful for their brief stay.

Snape observed her from the corner of his eye, appreciative of her resourcefulness before his focus returned to the task at hand.

As Autumn continued to transfigure objects, creating makeshift chairs and a small table, Snape knelt in front of the box, his expression one of deep concentration. The box emitted a faint glow, its contents pulsating ever so slightly.

Autumn's constant movements and sounds around him were a stark contrast to his own silent contemplation. Despite the urge to ask her to remain still, he found a certain comfort in her presence, her actions providing a distraction from the thoughts that haunted him.

The memories of his previous life, especially the recent reminder after touching Nagini, were still fresh in his mind. The pain, the guilt, the regrets, they all threatened to consume him if he allowed them to.

But he held them back, pushed them to the corners of his consciousness. His eyes remained fixed on the box, his mind already formulating spells that would be strong enough to encase the mysterious contents within a protective barrier.

Yet, in this brief moment of peace, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Autumn. Her constant moving around, creating a noise that filled the silence, was a subtle way she was helping keep their minds from drifting towards the darker parts of their thoughts.