The Last Death Eater, a harry potter fanfic

The Last Death Eater

A cold wind whistled between the buildings stirring up dry brittle leaves and sending them cascading across the sidewalk to be crushed by the striding steps of a lone figure hurrying along in the early morning quiet. As the wind bit into him, the man turned up the collar of his cloak, holding it closer and casting a careful glance down the length of the deserted street before turning into the narrow alleyway that led to a shuttered apothecary shop.

His watchful eyes darted back and forth, peering up at the windows of the buildings that lined the alley and checking each recessed doorway as he passed. When he reached the small flight of steps that led up to the front door of the shabby looking shop, he stopped and gazed around one final time. Finally satisfied that he was alone, he climbed the steps and paused to fish a key from his pocket. Once he had it in his hand, he turned his back on the alley in a quick movement and attempted to shove the key into its hole.

In his rush to unlock the door, the key jammed against the metal lock and fell from his cold fingers to the stones on which he stood. With a muttered curse, the man bent over to retrieve the key and as he did so, the shop door was shattered by a sizzling bolt of crimson magic.

The man in the cloak threw himself off the steps in one fluid motion and landed behind a nearby dustbin just as a second flash of magic whizzed past his head.

"Snape! You bastard, I've got you now. You won't escape this time!" howled an angry voice from the corner where the alley connected to the main street.

"Damn," muttered Snape to himself from behind the dustbin as he drew his wand. He'd been so careful this time. How had that wretched prat found him again?

Harry Potter stepped out from concealment and fired once more, stepping back just in time to avoid a return volley of hexes from his adversary.

Snape tried to apparate away, but found himself unable to do so, realizing to his chagrin that he hadn't been followed so much as lured. Potter had obviously known he'd be coming. He set the trap, and Snape blithely walked into it.

Snape sighed silently, he was losing his touch. Too many years on the run, most likely. Too many years of being blindly pursued by this determined fool. Such a life was supposed to sharpen your wits but, after awhile, it just became a burden to have to maintain that level of watchfulness. Sooner or later it was inevitable that he'd slip up. He'd just been hoping for later…much later.

Harry fired again and a sizzling burst of blue ricocheted off the lid of the dustbin forcing Snape to duck quickly. Carefully, he scanned the alley, if he couldn't apparate away, then he'd have to find another way out. Not that there seemed to be too many options available at the moment. He narrowed his eyes as one possibility occurred to him, popping up briefly to fire off a shot and keep his attacker at bay.

Potter might have erected anti-apparition wards, but working alone as he was wont to do, they were unlikely to be all encompassing. Probably they didn't extend beyond the immediate confines of the alley. All he had to do was find a way to get past their perimeter, and he'd be fine.

Turning back to the shop, Snape aimed his wand at the broken door. With one shot, he finished the job that Potter had started and blasted the door completely off its hinges. With a quick movement, he dropped his cloak to the ground so it didn't weigh him down. Then seizing the metal lid in his free hand, he used it as a shield as he vaulted over the dustbin and scrambled up the stairs, throwing himself inside the shop as more bolts from Harry's wand narrowly missed their mark.

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"No!" exclaimed Harry in frustration, throwing a few last futile bolts of magic at his enemy as Snape vanished inside the shop. Harry knew full well that once inside, the man was free to apparate to wherever he pleased.

Before Harry could follow Snape down the alley and into the shop, two more cracks of apparition heralded the appearance of Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt on the street behind him.

The two Aurors barely had a moment to get their bearings before Harry rounded on them accusingly.

"Where the heck have you been? I needed the back up. I almost had him this time," exclaimed Harry with annoyance. "I would have if I didn't have to do this alone."

Tonks nodded to Harry as Kingsley scanned the abandoned alley, taking in the scattered trash from the overturned bin and the broken door on the shop. Shooting Tonks a significant look, the tall Auror headed down the alley to check out the shop itself while Tonks spoke to Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry. We only now realized that you'd gone. If you'd leave us a note before you go, it would help us to catch up sooner. No luck, huh?" She smiled at him in sympathy.

Harry turned around and looked down the alley at the small shop with a sigh. "No. He got away through the shop. I didn't have time to seal off the whole area. I had to limit my wards to the alley itself."

He turned back to his companion with a hint of annoyance returning. "I really could have used your help. Maybe we could still get him…"

"No, he's gone," Shacklebolt's sober voice came from behind him. "The shop is deserted."

Harry frowned at the tall Auror as he joined them at the mouth of the alley. "We might still be able to catch him if we…"

"It's too late." Shacklebolt's tone was determined. "We'll have to get him another time, Harry."

"I will you know," Harry stated quietly, his eyes glittering with resolve. "I'll never rest until I do."

Tonks and Shacklebolt exchanged glances.

"We know Harry. We know," she added softly.

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Harry watched the bookshop doorway from a narrow alley across a little traveled street. His sources assured him that Snape often visited this shop, but he'd watched it quite frequently lately, whenever he could get away, and so far, no one remotely resembling his former Potions master had made an appearance. It looked as if this was just the latest in a string of dead ends. Snape seemed to be doing a better job of staying hidden at the moment, unfortunately. Harry sighed and shifted position to ease a cramp in his leg. Glancing at his watch, he decided to give it another half hour. That was all the time he could spare today.

Just as he'd made this decision, he heard footsteps approaching along his side of the street. He leaned back flat against the wall and waited, sliding further back into the shadows. Whoever it was would likely just wander right past the alley without ever looking in, but he didn't want to take the chance of being spotted. People just wouldn't ever leave him alone. Once he was recognized, any chance he'd have of capturing Snape would be over. No one would care about his mission; all they'd want to do was gawk at The Boy Who Lived to Triumph .

As he waited tensely, the footsteps abruptly changed direction, heading across the street, straight for the bookshop. Harry slid closer to the corner once again and smiled in satisfaction as he recognized the dark figure of Severus Snape. As he watched, the man opened the door to the shop and slipped stealthily inside, clearly not wanting to be seen.

Harry forced himself to stay where he was for a moment longer so that Snape could get deeper into the shop but only a moment. He couldn't afford to wait too long. The man might not spend much time inside, and Harry wanted to make sure that he couldn't possibly escape him again.

After waiting as long as he could stand, Harry slipped out of the alley and ran swiftly across the street, heading for one side of the shop and ignoring the main door for now.

First he cast an anti-apparition barrier over the entire building, then he moved slowly along the outside of the shop sealing every door and window that he came to, muttering softly as he worked.

"You aren't going to escape me this time, Snape. I've waited too long and worked too hard to let you get away again. Malfoy died last week. Did you know? Do you still keep up with your old pals?" A smug smile drifted across his face as rounded the corner and began to seal up the back of the shop.

"He actually lasted longer in Azkaban than I'd expected him to. You never can tell how people will take to captivity, I guess. So you really are the last now. Not just the only one to escape true justice, but the only one at all. The very last of the Death Eaters." Harry's eyes glittered as he finished sealing up the back door to the shop and moved around to the far side of the building.

"You've led me on a merry chase, Snape, but it ends here. Everyone tried to get me to give up. Said I had to let it go, said it didn't matter, said that you'd been punished enough. But living on the run isn't punishment enough, looking over your shoulder all the time, isn't enough. You need to be truly punished, Snape, and I need to be the one to do it."

Rounding the last corner to the front of the shop, Harry quickly sealed up the last two windows and moved to the door. Grasping the handle in his free hand, he pulled it open and smiled gleefully to himself. "I'm going to get you this time, Snape, and then it will finally all be over."

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Marty sat at the front desk of the bookshop, devouring a bag of crisps and flipped the pages of his comic book listlessly. He really needed to find a new job. Nothing of interest ever happened in this dull place. Who cared about an antiquarian bookshop, anyway? No one ever came in but a bunch of dried up academics or the odd, and he did mean odd, personal researcher. What the owner needed to do was get in some contemporary fiction. Maybe some racy novels or even some comic books. That would bring the customers in. Then he wouldn't be left to sit here and fall asleep in the middle of the day…every darned day of the week.

"Excuse me, I hate to disturb you, but for your own safety, you should leave now," a voice said politely.

The voice intruded into Marty's favorite daydream just as he was offering his personal advice to a very attractive customer interested in their new line of "adult literature." Sitting up with a jerk, the young man shook his head and looked up into a very determined and slightly familiar face. It took him a minute to place the speaker, but when he did, Marty was amazed.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter…geez, no one will believe it when I tell them I met you! What brings you in here of all places? Can't imagine that someone like you is interested in dusty old books like we got."

Harry pressed a finger to his lips, trying to get the now excited Marty to be more cautious with his outbursts. "Shhh…he'll hear you. I can't explain now, but you really need to leave…uh…what's your name?" he looked at the young man enquiringly.

"Marty! I'm Marty Shroot," Marty supplied his name excitedly. Wow, wait 'til his friends heard about this! He had an honest to Merlin hero standing right here next to him. "Why do I need to leave? I can show you around…find anything you might need."

Harry shook his head impatiently. "I'm not here for the books. You have a dangerous man posing as a customer hiding out in your shop. I'm here to apprehend him."

Marty's eyes grew huge. "I do? But the only one here is old Snape. He's not…"

Harry's eyes glittered. "You knew Snape was here and you didn't notify anyone?" he exclaimed hotly.

"Uh, well, geez…he comes in a lot. Why would anyone care?" Marty began to look confused. Surely Harry Potter knew about Snape if anyone would.

Harry seized Marty by the arm in a surprisingly strong grip. Clearly the young man's mind had been tampered with. Harry could deal with that later…after he dealt with Snape. He couldn't take the chance that the man might slip away from him again.

"We'll discuss this later, okay? Right now, you need to leave. Is there anyone else in the building?" He hustled Marty towards the front door of the shop.

"No. Not right now. Snape's the only one. What are you going to do? I'm really not supposed to leave the premises when I'm working." Marty argued as he found himself being forcefully dragged towards the door of the shop.

"It's okay," Harry told him reassuringly. "It won't be for long, but you need to leave now for your own safety." He opened the door and shoved Marty through it. "If anyone shows up looking for me, send them inside. Snape's dangerous. I'll probably need the backup."

As Marty nodded a bit dazedly, Harry closed the door on him and turned around to face the inside of the shop. It was one of those shops that seemed to go on forever with tall shelves full of books spread through a series of small cramped rooms. The bookshop hadn't been built for that purpose but was actually a converted house. In addition to the ground floor there was a first floor and a basement, no doubt also full of books, narrow corridors and lots of irregular nooks to hide in.

Not the ideal place for a confrontation under the best of circumstances, and thanks to the clueless clerk at the front desk, Snape was likely to know he was here. But he'd planned well. There was no way out for Snape; the man could run and he could hide, but he wasn't going to escape. Not this time.

With a grim smile, Harry gripped his wand tighter and moved off into the maze of shelves. Nothing moved. The shop was utterly silent, but the silence was heavy with tension. As Harry cautiously stepped around the end of a row of bookshelves, his eyes scanning the area ahead of him, his foot suddenly hit something soft, and a yowl of pain and anger rent the air.

Harry gasped as a large grey cat spat angrily at him and scampered quickly away, its claws clicking sharply against the wood of the floor. As Harry automatically glanced after the furious animal, a bolt of red shot past his head to slam into the shelf beside him. There was a loud explosion, and the entire bookcase fell toward him.

Harry threw himself sideways just in time to avoid being buried under the cascade of books and wooden shelves. As he shoved the mess aside, he thought he heard the sounds of movement, but by the time he got back to his feet, all was silent once again. As quickly as possible, Harry searched the ground floor of the shop, finding no trace of his assailant. The door that led to the basement was locked and showed no sign of having been opened recently, so that left only the upper floor as a possible refuge.

He approached the staircase warily before risking a look up. Snape could easily have fled upstairs while Harry had been avoiding the falling books. He wouldn't have heard him then. But if that was the case, the man had made a fatal error. There was no second staircase in the shop. This one was the only way up or down. If he'd gone upstairs, then he was trapped on the upper floor. Harry had him now.

As he placed his foot on the first step and began to climb, Snape opened fire once more. For the next few minutes, bursts of fiery magic flashed up and down the narrow confines of the staircase, ending only when one of Snape's shots found its mark, knocking Harry back down the stairs and opening a bloody gash in his right leg.

As Harry pulled himself to his feet once more, he heard the distant crash of breaking glass. Heedless of the pain that shot up his leg, Harry flew up the stairs as quickly as he could manage. At the end of a long row of shelves, glass littered the floor under a broken window and a scrap of black fabric fluttered in the breeze, hooked on a jagged shard that remained in the smashed window frame.

Harry limped down the aisle and peered out, noting that the roof of the porch covering the sealed back door rested directly beneath his gaze. Snape had somehow managed to break through his magical seal and must have jumped onto the roof and then down to the ground. No trace of him could be seen anywhere. Probably he'd already moved out beyond the wards and apparated away.

Harry slammed his fist into the wall in frustration. Damn it! How did the man always manage to get away? He turned around as footsteps raced up the stairs behind him, confronting the appearance of Tonks and Shacklebolt with snarling disapproval.

"Where have you two been? You always show up when it's too late to catch him. If you'd come earlier we could have surrounded the place, and he wouldn't have managed to escape!"

As Shacklebolt walked over to look out the window, Tonks smiled an uneasy smile at Harry and moved towards him, hands spread in a conciliatory gesture.

"You didn't leave a message Harry. You're supposed to leave us a message when you leave or at least send your Patronus once you get where you're going. How can we back you up if we don't know where to go?" Her voice was calm and reasonable.

A look of confusion flitted across Harry's face for a brief moment. "I didn't? I thought… I meant to leave a message. I…"

His expression hardened, became certain once more. "I almost had him this time."

Shacklebolt turned back and he and Tonks exchanged a brief glance. "Yes, Harry. It certainly looks like you did. Why don't you go with Tonks and get that leg tended to. I'll clean things up here."

Harry looked down at his leg as if noticing the blood dripping from it for the first time. "Okay, but it's nothing. A flesh wound is all."

Tonks nodded in agreement and came to take Harry's arm. "You're right. Clearly it's not serious, but we need to get it looked at all the same. I'll take you to St. Mungo's."

Harry grimaced in annoyance but let her lead him away. "I hate that place…" he muttered softly.

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Snape let himself into his cottage and slammed the door behind him, leaning back against the wooden panel and closing his eyes in relief. Before his pounding heart could begin to slow he heard a movement in the doorway to the next room and, drawing his wand and springing to attention once more, he saw a familiar figure step into a shaft of daylight.

"That was too close! This is the second time in the last three months that Potter has managed to track me down. Something needs to be done about him! Now!" Snape raged at his visitor.

"I know," a voice admitted.

"You know." Snape sneered. "Then do something about it! How does he keep locating me? He shouldn't be able to track me like this."

"We're not sure. He seems to have a sixth sense about you."

"Well, I won't tolerate this any longer. Either you find a way to finish it…or I will."

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Harry stumbled to the door of the burning cottage. He glanced for a final time at the body that lay crooked and still on the rug behind him before he turned and surged out into the sunshine. As he leaned against a nearby tree on the hillside and coughed to clear his lungs of smoke, three figures appeared between him and the burning building.

Two of the figures stepped towards the cottage as if they were about to go inside despite the smoke and flames when the other one noticed Harry off to the side and motioned for her companions to follow her instead as she made her way to his side.

"Harry?" Hermione's worried voice accompanied a gentle hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

Harry turned around and, planting his back against the sturdy tree, he slid down to sit on the ground, his eyes fastened on the flaming structure in front of him. As he watched, the roof caved in, lifting a shower of flame and sparks into the afternoon sky.

"I did it, Hermione. I finally did it. Snape's gone. All the Death Eaters are gone. It's finally over." His voice trailed off into a rasping cough, but his eyes blazed with triumph.

Hermione exchanged a glance with Tonks, who stood nearby, her troubled eyes focused on Harry while Shacklebolt stood a few paces away watching the small cottage burn to ashes.

"Well done, Harry. We knew you could do it!" Hermione stated firmly with a slightly tremulous smile as she crouched down next to her friend.

"Did you?" Harry asked earnestly, turning his bright gaze on her face. "You always tried to talk me out of it, you and Ron. Saying that Snape wasn't worth pursuing. That I should just let him go. But I couldn't do that, you know. I had to get them all. I had to end it all. No one else could do it." His voice dropped to a whisper and his eyes lost their focus as he turned to stare at the dying fire that had engulfed the cottage and was burning itself out. "It had to be me…"

Hermione sniffled softly and nodded. "I know you had to Harry. I know. We all knew, and we never doubted your ability or your bravery. We just want you to be happy…and stay safe."

Harry smiled fleetingly at her. "Everyone's safe now. It's over." Then a look of confusion came over his features, and he looked back at the cottage. "It is over, isn't it?"

"Yes," Hermione stated firmly, as she drew Harry to his feet and held firmly onto one arm. "Snape is dead. He was the last one. You don't have to worry about the Death Eaters ever again. Now you only have to worry about you, Harry and getting well."

Harry shook his head chidingly. "I'm not injured, Hermione. I'm fine. It's just…" he hesitated and looked back at the cottage with an uncertain expression. "I'm not sure what to do next," he added quietly.

"What you do next is come back with us, Harry," said Tonks brightly as she stepped forward to take Harry's other arm. "You don't have to worry about anything else, okay? Time for a well earned rest, I think, what do you say?"

Harry nodded his agreement, though he still looked a bit uncertain. "Yes…I… Yes, okay. I am rather tired."

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The wreck of the tiny cottage smoked faintly in the sudden silence following the sharp crack of multiple disapparitions. Nothing moved in the faint breeze but a few ragged spears of grass. Then, the sudden flap of fabric being pulled aside broke the stillness, revealing two figures standing next to the tree line a short distance from the ruin.

"It's over," Lupin remarked in a mild tone as he folded the invisibility cloak carefully and stowed it in a pocket of his jacket.

"Is it?" answered Snape acerbically, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. "I've thought so before."

"He believes you're dead, Snape. The last Death Eater has been destroyed. As long as you don't do anything to contradict that idea, you're a free man…and hopefully so is Harry."

Snape frowned darkly. "He should have been committed years ago."

Lupin shook his head sadly. "It wasn't possible. By the time anyone realized just how deeply Harry had been hurt by Voldemort, it was too late to hospitalize him; his feet were already set on a very public path. We couldn't stop it. We did try."

Lupin sighed. "Harry's a hero, Snape…the greatest hero in the Wizarding world. People needed to see him, to touch him, to believe that he'd vanquished the most hideous evil that ever existed and had escaped unscathed. It was the only way they could believe that the nightmare they'd gone through was finally over. Once his physical wounds were healed, the Ministry refused to see that he had other wounds that couldn't be healed quite so easily. And I suspect…" Lupin hesitated.

Snape frowned and prompted him to continue. "You suspect??"

"Scrimgeour has never really liked Harry because he refused to be his public puppet and help boost the Ministry in the eyes of the populace when it didn't deserve it. I think, once he recognized Harry's obsession with you, he was hoping that you'd…that…"

"That I'd solve his problem for him? After all, a dead hero is much easier to manipulate than a live one."

"Or that you'd do each other in. Harry wasn't the only one who wasn't completely happy with your exoneration."

Snape grimaced but held his tongue.

"Besides," Lupin continued, "in most ways, Harry's really quite normal. It's only on the subject of the remaining Death Eaters that he becomes…irrational."

"Me in particular."

"Well, yes," Lupin admitted reluctantly. "You were the last in his eyes. The only one to escape punishment. All of the others were either already dead or were incarcerated and soon to die."

"But what about me?" Snape's eyes blazed with righteous anger. "Why wasn't my life considered important? Why didn't my sacrifices matter? I was exonerated, damn it! It wasn't as if I escaped without a trial or time in that wretched prison. I went through it all and in the end, I was set free! This persecution should not have been allowed to continue for all these years. Hero or not, he should have been stopped long ago."

"Yes, you were a free man, with the help of a few technicalities and some documentation left behind by Albus, and you're right; it wasn't fair to expect you to live with this threat hanging over your head, but life isn't fair, Snape. When did you start believing that it was?"

Before Snape could open his mouth and protest, Lupin continued, "We did the best we could…keeping a close eye on both of you. And now, with your cooperation, both of you will finally be free. Hopefully Harry can now have the peace he deserves, and get the treatment he really needs, and you can start a new life. Somewhere else.

"Yes," Snape grumbled softly. "But I shouldn't have to leave at all."

"No, you shouldn't," admitted Lupin readily. "But, as we've already established, life isn't always fair." The werewolf reached into a pocket and removed a money sack and an envelope both of which he offered to Snape.

"This is what we agreed on. Money and identification documents that can be altered to accept any name you choose to go by. Once you fill them in, they'll help you establish yourself anywhere you want to go outside Britain."

Looking highly annoyed, Snape accepted the envelope, checking its contents briefly before slipping it into a pocket. Then he took the bag of money, opening it also to assess its contents. He didn't appear any happier when he looked up.

"This was all you could manage?"

"Yes, it is. And don't tell me that you don't have resources of your own to draw on. We aren't a wealthy bunch Snape, you're lucky to get that much; believe me, it wasn't easy. I'd advise you to take it and not complain. What's in that bag is quite enough to get you started on a new life. It's not as if you don't have the skills to support yourself. Now I'll say goodbye. I wish you luck wherever you decide to go." Lupin extended his hand.

Snape stared at it for a moment before reaching out and reluctantly grasping it for the briefest amount of time that good manners would allow. "Goodbye, Lupin. Hopefully our paths will not cross again."

Once Snape dropped his hand, Lupin nodded amiably and vanished with a crack, leaving Snape alone on the deserted hillside.

The breeze pulled at his hair as he watched the remains of his latest hideout smolder in the late afternoon sun. Hopefully that was the last place he'd have to designate as a hideout. Wherever he landed next, he could call it a home.

Hefting the bag of coins in his hand, he placed it securely in his pocket with a smug smile. He'd managed to squirrel away more money over the years than most people would expect from someone of his means, but this would make a nice bonus, and the fact that he'd squeezed it out of Lupin and his clueless friends made it all the sweeter. And now that Potter was finally off his back, he could start afresh without having to look over his shoulder constantly. He could finally live life as he chose, with no master, no jailer…no restraints.

He'd won in the end. No one got the best of him…not Dumbledore, not the enemies of his school days, not the Dark Lord and certainly not Harry Bloody Potter. In the end, he beat them all, and smiling in grim satisfaction, Snape raised his gaze to the horizon and abruptly vanished from sight.