The first rays of morning sunlight had just slipped through the cracks in the curtains when Snape was abruptly woken by urgent knocking.
"Severus, get up!" Eileen's voice came through the wooden door. "Jones said the flying carpet will arrive in five minutes."
Outside the tavern, the Weasley family was already geared up and ready. Bertha Jones waved a parchment excitedly, outlining the itinerary:
"Our first stop is the ancient city of Butrint—over a millennium old, with some magical wards from ancient wizards still functioning inside. Imagine, magic from a thousand years ago!"
Snape frowned at the sky, where a colorful spot was steadily growing.
"A flying carpet?" he said doubtfully. "Isn't that thing banned back home?"
"Oh, don't be so rigid, Severus!" Bertha exclaimed, patting his shoulder enthusiastically. "They're perfectly legal here. Albanian Axminster carpets are the best in Europe."
She leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard even Mr. Crouch has one stashed away. Of course, he never uses it—though I've always thought the flying carpet embargo was utterly unfair…"
When the carpet landed on the clearing before the tavern, Snape's frown deepened.
This so-called "top-tier flying carpet" seemed handwoven from rough plant fibers, its edges fraying and worn.
Golden runes embroidered along its border shimmered faintly in the sunlight, resembling Weasley's overworked, bedraggled owl Errol.
"Is this really safe?" Lily whispered doubtfully, her eyes scanning the suspicious loose threads.
"Absolutely no problem!" Bertha jumped on first, the carpet sagged slightly then sprang back up. "Look—steady as the Hogwarts staircases."
Bill and Charlie scrambled aboard, fighting for the front seats, excitedly pointing and arguing about the distant mountains. Mr. Weasley carefully helped Mrs. Weasley on, who was clutching a yawning Percy.
Snape was the last to step on; he distinctly felt the fabric dip beneath his feet.
As the carpet wobbled and lifted, an unpleasant scraping noise came from the edges.
"Don't worry," said the red-nosed guide wizard sitting at the front, speaking with a heavy accent, his goatee twitching with each word, "it had a tear last week, so the Ministry promptly reinforced all carpets with extra levitation charms."
"That's truly comforting," Snape muttered, gripping a tassel at the carpet's edge.
"I still think this is a terrible idea," Mrs. Weasley said, clutching a raised knot in the carpet with one hand and Percy tightly in the other. "Oh—Charlie! Bill! Pull your legs in! Arthur, keep an eye on those two!"
"Don't worry, Molly!" Bertha called back excitedly, her curls flying in the breeze, cheeks rosy with a smile. "Andrea just told me this carpet's been in use for over a century with zero accidents!"
"Over a century?" Mrs. Weasley's voice came out through clenched teeth. "It's older than all of us combined."
The morning mist gradually lifted, revealing the lush green forests below like a massive emerald carpet dotted with silver lakes and winding rivers. Unknown waterfowl circled overhead.
Andrea muttered a strange incantation that sounded like something stuck in his throat, and the carpet suddenly accelerated, the wind roaring past their ears.
"Look over there!" Charlie pointed excitedly, nearly tumbling off the carpet's edge before Mr. Weasley hauled him back. "Is that where we're headed?"
Snape tore his gaze away from the swaying carpet's fringe and saw a vast expanse of gray-brown marshland stretching into the distance, dotted with scattered trees and reeds.
In the distance, the partially submerged ruins of an ancient city began to take shape—crumbling stone walls and semi-circular arches were faintly visible.
"That's Butrint," Andrea explained. "Founded before the Illyrian period, it was occupied in turn by the Greeks, Romans, and Venetians. You can still find traces of ancient Albanian wizardry here." His voice dropped to a whisper. "It's said that in the Middle Ages, a coven of dark wizards performed forbidden experiments here…"
The carpet began its descent, the damp, marshy air rushing at them.
Lily seemed revitalized. She leaned forward, her red hair flowing like flames in the wind.
"Hold tight!" Andrea warned loudly. The carpet suddenly pitched steeply downward. Molly screamed while Percy's cries followed.
Just as the carpet nearly touched the water, it halted abruptly, sending a splash.
"Welcome to Butrint!" Amid the chaos, a local guide in a dark green robe approached, followed by a few tourists. "I'm Gene, and today I'll be leading you through this historic site."
Snape stepped off the carpet onto a stone slab floating on the water's surface, surprised to find the stones surprisingly stable despite their seeming instability.
"Please follow my steps carefully," Gene gestured politely. "These are magically fixed stone slabs. There are Grindylows in the swamp. Although most have been driven off, some always remain—just last week a German tourist was dragged underwater, but luckily rescued."
They followed Gene toward the ruins' entrance. The marsh's edge was lined with these magically suspended slabs, each roughly three feet square, hovering inches above the water.
"These carvings were made by ancient Albanian wizards," Gene said, pointing to a nearly moss-covered relief. With a flick of his wand, the moss vanished, revealing rough glyphs beneath. "This magic binds the buildings to water elements, allowing the city to adapt automatically to flooding…"
Snape walked mid-group, studying the half-submerged city.
Butrint was far grander up close.
Massive stone pillars tilted into the water, some broken; reliefs on arches were worn but still discernible as magical inscriptions from long ago; underwater steps descended into mysterious depths, silver fish darting between them.
"This was once a thriving city," Gene explained as they walked, his voice echoing faintly in the open marshlands. "It's said to have been home to the ancient Albanian Magical Academy, but during a dangerous dark magic experiment, the entire city sank into the swamp, with all faculty and students lost in the disaster…"
They moved through half-collapsed arches. The waterlogged ruins made eerie shapes—some rooftops just peeked above the surface; others were submerged, windows staring blankly like hollow eyes.
The Weasley children ran excitedly about, scolded repeatedly by Molly. "Stay away from the water's edge! Keep clear of those stones!"
Snape noticed odd scratches on some walls—not natural erosion.
"These marks…" he touched the stone, feeling a faint residual magical pulse.
"Likely from ancient magical instruments," Gene explained. "Or claw marks from magical creatures. This swamp is home to many unique magical beings, some unregistered with the Ministry."
As Gene spoke, Snape caught a rustling from the distant woods, like a large creature moving through the underbrush.
Alert, he turned to look but saw only gently swaying foliage.
"What's wrong?" Lily noticed his tension, whispering.
Before he could answer, a distinct plop echoed from the water.
All eyes turned toward the sound—a circle of ripples expanding about twenty yards away.
"Probably an otter or a terrapin," Gene said, raising his wand tensely, voice edged with unease, "Back away! Slowly, everyone, back away!"
His words cut off abruptly as the water churned violently. A massive green shape emerged, barely visible beneath the surface.
"Merlin's beard!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, clutching Percy tighter.
A colossal green viper lifted its head from the water, splashing droplets that gleamed on its scales in the sunlight. At least twelve feet long, it opened its jaws and snatched a low-flying water bird, its vertical pupils coldly observing the intruders before plunging back underwater.
"Don't move, everyone back away slowly…" Gene whispered, "It's hunting, won't attack us unless provoked…"
The serpent seemed utterly uninterested in the humans, lazily swimming through the water to enjoy its prey.
Suddenly, a wizard in a purple robe raised his wand, eyes gleaming greedily.
"This is no ordinary snake!" he hissed excitedly. "Its venom, scales, even eyes, are top-grade potion ingredients…"
"Stop!" Gene shouted fiercely, but it was too late.
A red beam shot from the purple-robed wizard's wand, striking the serpent. Water sprayed over the group like a sudden downpour.
The serpent thrashed violently, bursting from the water with jaws wide, emitting a metallic screech. Its emerald eyes flashed blood red.
"You fool!" Snape roared, wand already in hand.
The purple-robed wizard quickly paid the price. The serpent's tail lashed out like a whip, striking his chest with pinpoint precision.
"Ah—!" he barely managed a scream before being dragged underwater.
The surface churned wildly, and seconds later, bright red blood stained the water.
But the serpent was not done. It swam angrily in the swamp.
"Run!" Mr. Weasley shouted, drawing his wand, shielding his family. "Everyone, head for the shore! Move quickly!"
The crowd scrambled shoreward, the floating slabs trembling under hurried footsteps.
Just as Snape stepped onto the final slab, he felt a tight grip around his waist. Looking down, he saw the serpent's tail coiled around him, its slick scales chilling through his robes.
"Relax your grip!" Snape muttered, pointing his wand at the tail, but to no effect.
The serpent whipped suddenly, lifting Snape off his feet, suspending him midair.
"Severus!" Eileen and Lily's terrified cries echoed in his ears.
Through blurred vision, he saw them draw their wands but hesitate to cast, afraid to provoke the beast.
His ribs ached from the pressure; struggling to breathe, he gasped, "Don't!"
The serpent froze, its vertical pupils locking with his gaze, seemingly pondering. It loosened its grip just enough for Snape to breathe again.
A strange connection seemed to form; Snape felt his panic slowly ebb away.
An odd familiarity washed over him, and he vaguely sensed the emotions behind those pupils—pain, anger, and some eerie joy.
An unnatural silence fell over the swamp. The birdsong and insect calls ceased, even the wind seemed to still.
Everyone stared at Snape in shock—the strange hissing, rhythmical sound he had uttered was no English.
The Weasleys instinctively shielded their children, faces mixing fear and confusion. Bertha Jones took a step back, mouth agape, eyes darting between Snape and the serpent. Gene's face went pale, lips moving silently in prayer.
Eileen and Lily stood frozen for two seconds before realizing, raising their wands and firing spells at the serpent.
But the serpent suddenly turned, whipping its tail violently before sliding back into the water with astonishing speed—dragging Snape under.
"Severus!" Eileen screamed desperately, casting beams that missed wildly.
Without hesitation, she dove into the murky water. Lily followed, both soon swallowed by the dark swamp.
They fought to reach the serpent's location, but it moved too fast—a green blur disappearing into the depths, leaving only bubbles.
Minutes later, Eileen still refused to give up, but pale green Grindylows with horns gathered, their eerie yellow eyes glowing beneath the water, webbed fingers reaching for their ankles.
Seeing this, Lily struggled, pulling Eileen to the surface. The Weasleys and Gene helped haul them out.
Sitting on the stones, soaked, Eileen's face blurred between lake water and tears. Her lips trembled but no sound came, eyes fixed on the water.
"He speaks Parseltongue…" Bertha whispered, voice shaking in shock. "How is that possible…"
The water calmed again, ripples fading to stillness.