A Bend In Time

The dungeons are frigid when Rowan appears in an empty corridor. She hurriedly makes her way down the stone corridor, before arriving at a blank stone wall. A tiny, engraved snake is carved on the lower portion of the wall. It was unobtrusive and never noticed except by those that were perceptive. That and Salazar Slytherin was incredibly paranoid…

"Fides," Rowan said before the stone wall swung open to reveal an inner stone tunnel.

Rowan steps into the tunnel, before emerging into the common room as the wall slides shut behind her with a thump. Orange flames flicker in the fireplace, and the green lanterns in the common room glow dimly with the late hour. She glances about for Severus when she hears a painful mȯȧn.

Hurrying towards the sound, Rowan discovers Severus on the carpeted floor. She hastily kneels on the floor and sees that his cheeks are flushed, his skin is pale and sweaty. "A fever?" She mumbled to herself, "But he was just fine a few hours ago." She reaches to touch his forward when she pulls back her fingers as if scalded by boiling water.

Rowan lets out a surprised hiss and glances at her throbbing, red fingers. Something was clearly wrong with Severus, and it was no fever. She hesitates for a moment, but a determined expression crosses her face. She knew that her left eye was still sėnsɨtɨvė and strained, but it had begun feeling much better after the godparent ceremony.

Although Rowan and Severus had not liked the feeling of their magic being manipulated during the ceremony being that much older, they could more clearly feel the effects. The death magic within her had been forcefully quelled, becoming less volatile and easier to control. She had not known what Severus might have gained, but the benefits were at now obviously noticeable. The ceremony had caused Severus's magic to exponentially grow.

Throwing caution to the wind, "Unseal," Rowan ordered as the physical color of her left eye slowly returned to a light silvery gray color. The runes and inscribed enchantments activate creating an illusion of retaining her original eye color and all the while protecting the magical output in her left eye. In theory, she would be able to see, but she also knew her left eye was still healing from the months of strain.

A wave of green sparks like a river coil around Severus. There are darker intertwining shades of green that bubble inside of him. At the middle of his core, green and growing darker until black swirl together in a vortex. The terrible vortex causes the magic contained in his body to move rampant in a dangerous manner.

Unable to bear the strain, Rowan's silver-gray eye begins to water. "Seal," she hissed in both pain and relief as the tumultuous sight vanishes from her eyes. Severus needed urgent help! He had come into his full magic and his magical core was dangerously overloaded!

Reaching for her wand with clear intent in mind, Rowan says, "Expecto Patronum!" A silver creature bursts out from the tip of her wand. A glistening silvery horse reptilian winged creature, a Thestral. The silver transparent creature beats its wings strongly, before flying through the wall.

Pocketing her wand, Rowan tries to think despite the feeling of nausea and raging headache behind her left eye. She knew she had strained her sight again, but it had been worth the risk. Trying to think, she tries to rapidly piece together what might have occurred until it clicks.

It was their 16th Birthday and Severus had come into his full ȧduŀt abilities despite being a full year from their 17th Birthday. The abrupt release of his full magic was wreaking havoc on Severus's magical core that was not yet fully grown. In other words, his magical core is overloaded and could burst from the immense release of magic.

Moving forward, Rowan grits her teeth and presses her hands onto Severus's ċhėst. She clenches her teeth even tighter as it feels as though hundreds of bees are simultaneously stinging her hands repeatedly. Breathing deeply, she concentrates and begins to channel the excess magic from Severus's body into her own.

The existing death magic within Rowan's channels violently attacks the surge of magic from Severus that is filled with life. The two opposing forces violently clash against each other wounding her internally. A painful mȯȧn escapes from her mouth causing her to taste a metallic taste in the back of her throat.

Trying to breathe, Rowan clears the back of her throat of phlegm. She turns her head to the side and spits out the secretion in the back of her throat. Instead, a dark, thick red sticky substance emerges, but her unfocused gaze cannot even not the abnormal coloring and texture.

Time seems to slow down and every second turns into hours. Rowan's entire body begins to tremble unable to withstand the violent magic currents within her. Her breathing becomes heavier, and she finds that she can no longer focus her sight clearly. Her aching hands touching Severus's ċhėst directly rattle fiercely with no strength to them.

Something wet slithers down her nose, Rowan turns her head slightly to wipe her nose against her robes. The robes are dark and not much can be noted, but a few red droplets stick to the corner of her nostril. Her hands grow more unsteady sliding off Severus's ċhėst every time she blinks.

Rowan's breathing grows more ragged and black spots begin to appear in her gaze. Swaying back and forth, the world begins to sway in her eyes. She dimly hears what sounds like the common room opening. "Finally," she sluggishly thought touching her glasses twice before she slumped onto the floor. The glasses on her face zoom away and clamp onto her ear as an earring. Her eyes feel heavy and close to their own violation. Still, she can glimpse thin, pale, boney ankles with fluffy blue slippers.

"Huh, so that's Dumbledore's skinny, pale ankles," Rowan weakly thought to herself with a bit of a giggle before everything mercifully went dark.

Upon receiving a Patronus in the middle of the night, Albus Dumbledore, who had just been about to go to bed hurried towards the Slytherin common room. However, before he did, he quickly summoned the Head of Slytherin, Professor Mortimer, and that of Infirmary Matron, Madam Pomfrey.

Throwing any caution aside, Albus's silver, white beard, and hair were hastily thrown over his shoulder and out of his way. He wore thick, warm blue robes with a long, thick, warm nightshirt. His matching blue nightcap hung over his shoulder at a bit of a tilt. .

Albus moves rather nimbly and quickly for a man of his advanced age. Rather breathless and panting, he arrives at the entrance of the Slytherin quarters. "Headmaster's prerogative," he gasped before the stone wall opens without any protest. One of few Headmaster privileges.

Albus does not have time to appreciate the Slytherin common room having visited only once many years ago. He hurries inside only to see Rowan Prince topple to the ground.. His blue eyes are usually solemn from behind his half-moon spectacles.