Long shadows stretched across the ground as a timid little girl stood in the shade cast by a great oak, her small fingers clutching tightly at the vine handle of a flower basket. She looked about seven or eight years old, dressed in a faded linen dress, her bare feet dotted with mud.
Beside her trailed a vacant-eyed, filthy man. His skin was a sickly grayish-white, arms hanging limply at his sides, his entire being drained of life.
"It's so late, this gentleman," the old crone noticed Snape's arrival, her wrinkled face breaking into an exaggerated grin that revealed just three blackened, yellow teeth. "Are you lost? Need some help?"
"Thank you, but no," Snape's fingers slid subtly toward the wand hidden in his sleeve. "I'm just… passing through."
"Look at you, poor child, you must be starving," the crone stepped forward without waiting for an answer. "Why not come to our place for supper? My granddaughter just gathered fresh mushrooms. And I can show you the way."
The little girl flinched, shrinking behind the crone, yet peeked shyly at the stranger from behind her.
Snape noticed the dazed man shift instinctively a few steps closer to the girl.
"Truly… touching hospitality," Snape said slowly, fingers tightening on his wand.
Stagger!
Avada Kedavra!
Two spells burst simultaneously through the dusk.
Snape rolled sideways just as a green light swept past his shoulder, scorching a black hole into a tree trunk behind him.
His hastily cast Stupefy went wildly off target, not even grazing the hem of the crone's robe.
Worse still, his wand trembled unnervingly—the ancient wand he'd scavenged from the cavern seemed overloaded.
"Youngsters these days have no respect for their elders!" the crone shrieked, her voice suddenly sharp and piercing.
Her bony fingers danced nimbly, unleashing a barrage of curses from her wand tip.
Snape dodged clumsily under the hail of magic, his robes torn by branches several times.
Where is Nagini… he thought anxiously. Why isn't she coming out now?
The little girl stood frozen, paralyzed by the sudden violence.
The man beside her remained expressionless, like a puppet without strings.
"Grandma, watch out!"
In a flash, the seemingly fragile girl unleashed surprising strength, pushing the crone with all her might.
The old witch screamed, face-first into the mud she fell, one of her remaining teeth shattered as her wand spun away into the bushes.
Snape seized the fleeting chance like a predator, pouncing toward the wand. At the last second, his fingers closed around its wooden handle.
The crone struggled to lift herself, only to see him rise slowly, wand in hand.
"Farewell, old hag," Snape grinned darkly.
A dazzling red light shot from the newly acquired wand.
The crone was struck midair, feet lifting as if she were a kite, crashing heavily into the oak behind and collapsing to the ground.
"Thank you, sir!" The girl's face brightened with relief, large tears streaking white lines down her filthy cheeks. "That old witch killed my mother and bound me here—sniff—she did terrible experiments on me…"
She trembled as she rolled up her sleeve, revealing a wrist covered in dense scars.
Then she pointed at the vacant man, sobbing: "This is my father… she turned him like that…"
Snape's expression flickered subtly. He lowered his wand, voice softening: "Thank you, little one. Don't be afraid—you're safe now."
Just as the girl's tension eased, Snape abruptly raised his arm: "Bind them quickly!"
A thick rope appeared from nowhere, wrapping the girl tightly, immobilizing her arms.
Her tears froze, replaced by a look of shock so profound it was almost disbelief.
"Always stay vigilant," Snape grunted. "Sorry, but I must ensure safety first."
With a flick, he reinforced binding charms on the unconscious crone and the vacant man.
The crone's wand twirled nimbly in his grasp—still no match for Snape's own, but far better than the broken one from the cavern.
He tapped the crone's chest gently: "Wake up soon!"
"Hello, dear old lady," Snape bent closer, gentle but firm. "What are you and your sweet granddaughter doing here? Can you tell me how to get out of this forest?"
"Oh, young handsome lad, why so harsh?" The crone's cloudy eyes fluttered open, seeing herself tightly bound but laughing unexpectedly. "Untie granny, I'll lead you out of the woods…"
"Do you take me for a three-year-old troll?" Snape said calmly, wand lowering toward her brow. "If that's so, let's spice things up a bit. Maybe Cruciatus will make you more honest."
He drew a deep breath and shouted, "Cruci—"
The crone's mouth erupted in a shrill, baby-like wail.
"Watch out!"
Before Snape could finish, a heart-wrenching scream tore from the girl behind him, followed by the snap of ropes breaking and an inhuman roar.
Snape only had time for a half-turn before a tremendous force hurled him through the air.
He tumbled, breaking branches across his back before crashing hard into a thicket.
As he struggled upright, he saw the vacant man's face distort—mouth and nose bulging forward into a snout, gray-black fur spreading across his body, fingers curling into claws.
Seconds later, a fully formed werewolf hind leg rose, standing in the clearing, saliva dripping from fangs.
"You're not vigilant enough," the crone hummed a strange tune.
Under her command, the werewolf carefully sliced the bonds restraining her.
Then, rustling came from the bushes.
The crone snapped her head around, shouting, "Who—"
A massive shadow burst from the woods, striking the werewolf sideways.
Nagini's enormous body wrapped around the beast, scales scraping fur in a sickening screech.
Fangs pierced the werewolf's shoulder, which howled in pain, claws sparking on the serpent's scales.
Snape scrambled up, seizing his wand: "Crucio!"
The crone's scream was agonized.
The curse threw her to the ground; she struggled to rise but writhed futilely like a fish out of water.