Standard disclaimer applies.

CAUGHT IN THE STORM
CHAPTER ONE - SETTING THE BOARD

It seemed, Eriol thought, that things were really getting out of hand. He settled himself onto the chair, ignoring Nakuru who was humming under her breath as she flipped the pancakes, and frowned at the mocking headline of the newspaper.

"SEVERAL GRAVEYARDS IN YORK FOUND EMPTY"

Last night found several inhabitants of Harrogate shifting

uneasily in their sleep. Brian Wesley, a middle-aged farm

owner, claims that the townfolk have been hearing strange

noises from the neighboring graveyard.

"We don't want nothing to do with all that funny business,"

Mrs. Wesley says. "My Brian tries to investigate but I tells him

no. Something funny about that place." No one has tried to

approach the graveyard; the people claim that they feel the

fear "coming off the place in waves". Some brave children say

that they have seen a circle of red light before running back

to their homes. David Burne, 39, mentions seeing a "green

skull eating a snake" above the graveyard.

In the morning, the graveyard was found empty. Most of the

tombstones were knocked down and the soil dug up. The

coffins were wide open and vacant.

There are many speculations about... (cont. page 2)

"More strange things, huh," Nakuru commented as she handed Eriol his mug of coffee. He made a 'hmm' of assent, still scowling thoughtfully.

"Where are Sakura and Syaoran?" he asked, sipping his coffee and setting down the paper.

"Still asleep," came the reply from the kitchen door. Spinel was dragging a gagged Keroberos who was making every effort to scream his lungs out. "I managed to get this idiot out before he disturbed their sleep."

Eriol thanked him and beckoned to Keroberos with a hand. Kero flew towards him sulkily, surreptitiously eyeing the growing pile of pancakes and the pancake syrup. "You'll have some of that later," he promised with a chuckle, untying Kero's gag. "Now, I have a few questions to ask."

"But I'm hungry! Sakura forgot to slip me some food while she was on the plane and the brat didn't remind her. I bet he forgot too!" And as if to corroborate this, Kero's stomach growled loudly. He started to fly over to the pile of pancakes, a look of supreme anticipation on his face. He was swatted away by Nakuru.

"No touching my pancakes until I say so!"

Eriol smiled crookedly, feeling lost as the catfight between his two guardians (one present and one former) escalated. "Nakuru, please give Keroberos some pancakes."

Nakuru pouted at him, swatting Kero as he punched a small fist into the air, screaming, "Yeah! That's what I'm talking about, yeah!" Reluctantly, she handed him a plate of four pancakes and a hefty amount of syrup. Kero began gobbling it up hungrily. Having lost that battle, she turned towards Spinel who was lazing about on the sink. She grabbed the bottle of pancake syrup and leered over the black cat guardian. "Oh Suppi"

As she chased Spinel out of the kitchen, Eriol turned towards Keroberos. "Satisfied?"

"Not hungry anymore," the guardian said happily, rubbing his bloated stomach but still looking at the pancakes.

"Good," Eriol said, shoving the newspaper into Kero's face. "Now tell me what you think of this."

He helped himself to more coffee as his furry little guardian scanned the newspaper. He knew there was something sinister afoot in England, knew it in his gut. Hurricanes that were not predicted by the weather specialists, ever thickening mist during the day, people losing memories of days at a time, and the ever-present Skull-and-Snake emblem emblazoned on the night sky amidst all the murders, reeked exclusively of... magic. Which was strange since he was, to his knowledge, the only sorcerer on the face of England. Although he knew there was something else he was missing—a piece of information he had when he was Clow Reed, which he had swept away into the recesses of his mind, held under lock and key.

"Hmm," Kero said carefully.

"Got anything?"

"Hmm," Kero answered.

A few minutes of silence passed, in which Eriol finished his coffee and his guardian read the remaining articles in the newspaper. As he was about to fetch some plates and set the table (it was already eight o'clock—Sakura and Syaoran should be up by now), Keroberos spoke up, "What's happening, Eriol? What have you been doing? This just screams magic."

"So I was right," Eriol murmured. To Kero, he said, "I've not been doing anything. I'm as uninformed as you are."

There was a question hidden there. Keroberos had been Clow Reed's guardian. He should know something. The key turned.

"It's been a long time," he started, "but I remember you mentioning a hidden magical community in England. All over Europe, in fact."

Eriol bristled at Kero's casual reference to him as Clow Reed. Before he could say anything, a resounding set of footsteps alerted him to Sakura and Syaoran's arrival.

"Eriol, have you seen Kero-chan? I've been looking for him everywhere--oh!" Sakura stopped, startled, as Kero flew over to her and started complaining about how badly he'd been mistreated at the plane, pausing only to glare at Syaoran as if to make a point.

"Good morning, Syaoran, Sakura," Eriol greeted amiably.

While Sakura was preoccupied with Kero, Syaoran took a seat opposite Eriol, mumbling a good morning incoherently, his sleep-tousled look begging for coffee. Eriol made his way to the coffee maker and poured Syaoran, who was looking at him as if he were the Savior Almighty, a generous cup.

"Thanks," Syaoran said gruffly.

"You're welcome," Eriol quipped cheerily. "Now, we should really have some breakfast. I wonder where Nakuru and Spinel are."

On cue, Nakuru and Suppi burst into the kitchen, still chasing and being chased, respectively. Eriol sighed. "Both of you. Breakfast. Now."

His two guardians stopped and approached the table, Nakuru with her head bowed and Spinel with an arrogant flick of his tail. Sakura sat beside Syaoran, having pacified her guardian with apologies and sweets. Nakuru started doling out four pancakes to each of the table's inhabitants. The pancake syrup was passed around in silence, except for sounds of Kero's hearty appreciation of Nakuru's cooking.

"You're missing a guardian, Sakura-san," Eriol remarked after his first pancake. "How is Yue these days?"

"He's fine; he doesn't come out that much anymore because things have been really quiet all these years. Yukito-san is teaching Algebra now, did you know?" Sakura replied, smiling fondly. "Sometimes Touya complains that he feels Yue is watching them when they... err, you know. I wonder if there's a way to transfer Yue into another body."

"Well, you should be able to figure out a way. I know Clow Reed made some notes on how he made his guardians; they're somewhere in the attic. Shall I look for them?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Eriol-kun! Thank you!" Sakura exclaimed.

Eriol nodded, smiling, then turned to Syaoran. "Li-san, I heard you turned down Clan responsibility yet again."

His brown-haired descendant shifted apprehensively. "I'm still eighteen."

"But I thought you talked to your mother about this, Syaoran," Sakura said, worried.

"I did," Syaoran said with finality. "I told her I didn't want to be Clan Leader. At least, not now."

Sakura sighed unhappily. Eriol realized that this was a long-standing issue between the two of them.

"Well, we shouldn't be worrying about that. You're supposed to be on holiday," he said diplomatically. "Anyway, I have some concerns I wish to discuss with you."

He looked at his two guests and found them listening attentively. "Recently, there have been... incidents of the most puzzling and dangerous sort." He pointed to the newspaper, where the headline sat, bold and unmoving. "Grave digging is only one. Mysterious, unconnected deaths of influential politicians and unobtrusive civilians, babies and young children disappearing, unanticipated hurricanes, eerie mist, people experiencing hallucinations and nightmares during the day are only a few of the many things happening in England. I did not mean to invite you to such a dangerous place but until now, I have been convinced that these were all coincidences.

"I suspected that these are all connected to some magical activity, but I could go no further than that because, until Keroberos told me otherwise, I was convinced that I was the only magic-user in the British Isles. This is not true. Apparently, there is a community of wizards living in secret all over Europe. It is them, I reckon, who are causing all these disturbances, though I do not know what their reasons are. It would be best that you bring your cards, Sakura-san, wherever you go. Li-san, your sword is too conspicuous; you'll have to make do with your ofuda."

Eriol noticed that Syaoran was progressively getting angrier. He waited for the outburst. It came in five seconds. "What are you playing at, Hiiragizawa? Is this one of your elaborate schemes to 'test Sakura'?"

"I assure you, Syaoran, that I intend no such thing. Sakura is already very powerful—more powerful than I am, in any case—and her powers still continue to grow. I am merely saying that I was wrong to invite you to England at such a time. If you wish to stay here for a few more weeks, then I suggest that you be prepared to face dangers, no matter how unlikely. If you do not, I will book a flight back for you to Japan."

Syaoran huffed and fell back into his seat, crossing his arms. Sakura stroked his shoulder gently, telling Eriol, "I don't think anything will happen to us while we're here and especially when you're here, so we'll stay. If anything goes wrong, I do have my Cards. It will always be all right!"

"Right, Syaoran-kun?" she asked, beaming at him. The boy nodded his head, blushing. She turned her sunny grin to Eriol. "Okay, so where are we off to today, Eriol-kun?"

Eriol grinned at his darling successor and his cute descendant. Yes, things would be all right.

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Minerva McGonagall had always been a staunch second-in-command, the not-quite-leader and the not-quite-follower with a loyalty worthy of any Hufflepuff. In fact, Severus (at this, she released a snarl) once teased her that she should have ended up in Hufflepuff because she was so bloody fair-minded ("I pity your Gryffindors," he had said) and loyal to a fault. She had laughed good-naturedly and informed him that the Sorting Hat did indeed consider putting her in Hufflepuff, if not for her "sheer bull-headedness". Severus had smirked at her and billowed out of the staff room. She waited for the next time he complained that no one could understand Slytherins before telling him that, in the end, the Sorting Hat was faced with two choices: Slytherin or Gryffindor.

But ultimately, the Sorting Hat had placed her in Gryffindor, the House of the courageous, brave and stubborn. Funny how all that seemed to desert her now, when she needed it most, when the people around her needed it most.

Her thoughts went back to the war that had claimed so many innocents: the Bones, the McKinnons, the Prewetts, amid countless others. Then the more personal wounds: her parents lost to the Entrail-Expelling Curse at the hands of Jacob Yaxley (she had experienced a savage joy in turning him into a Flobberworm and blasting him out of existence), Moody (a Severing Charm), Dearborn who was never found, Alice and Frank Longbottom insane from the Cruciatus Curse, Lily and James Potter dead from the Killing Curse, Sirius wrongfully accused... her hands clenched painfully.

Fawkes, who had felt the sudden surge of powerful emotions, crooned at her from his perch. ... and now, Dumbledore.

She gazed out the window of the Headmaster's office, eyes sweeping from the grounds to the Forbidden Forest. In her mind's eye, she envisioned the Forbidden Forest as a towering inferno—Hogwarts, the last bastion against Voldemort, spells colliding, giants, centaurs, dragons, Aurors, Death Eaters, students, teachers, children, and all the dead in between.

She would do anything to prevent that from happening.

And Severus Snape will answer my questions when I get my claws on him.

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The Firewhisky burned his throat. One of the wonderful things about this particular concoction was that no matter how much of it you'd been drinking in the past what? five hours? it wouldn't stop feeling like someone incanting an Incendio down your esophagus. Since the brain would be largely preoccupied by the fuck it hurts feeling, it would not have time to think of things such as killing Dumbledore under his own orders and making everyone think he was some traitor. No, nothing like that. And it left him too stoned to think about it once he woke up. That was an added bonus.

As he reached for the next Firewhisky—how long did it take him to finish the last one?—a burning sensation started somewhere that was not his throat. No. It was coming from his left forearm.

With movements borne out of practice, Severus Snape summoned all his self-control, pulled out his wand and Accio-ed a hangover potion. It flew from his medicine cabinets and straight into his hand. He downed it all in one gulp and felt his light-headedness recede.

The Dark Mark was still burning. Severus cursed Albus and damned whatever god had sent him into this hellish existence, and promptly Apparated.

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Note:

Eriol sounds like Dumbledore. I don't suppose Clow Reed and Dumbledore are distantly related, are they? XD Anyway, it's amusing to note that this fic is on the alerts of four people while I get only two reviews. Reviews are lovely, and constructive criticism is even lovelier. :3

I had a spot of problem writing out McGonagall's scene, so if anything seems disjointed there, it's because I wrote it in bits and pieces and I didn't really know anything about McGonagall. (I haven't thought out her life story—I've not even thought of the entire story.)

Anyway, it's been a long time since I watched CCS or read the manga. I forgot how Eriol addressed Syaoran and Sakura, and vice versa. In any case, this takes place around six or so years after the series. Things are bound to change.

And yes, I like Snape.