The Last Request of Albus Dumbledore

Hello everyone - updates will resume tomorrow morning, in the schedule that is in my profile. My apologies for the delay - I've had a tough week, but it's all better now - this is the start of something I am running mainly as an experiment. As many of you are aware I am working on 'The Phoenix Guardian' which is primarily a Snape and Harry project - but I have little experience writing the characters. So, this is an opportunity for me to write and you to give advice on characterisation and similar topics.

Oh, and to make things very different indeed, I have - ah - done the unthinkable for SS19 and killed someone off. In the first chapter…

~ SS19


Prologue: Falling Asleep

A hooded figure stormed into the dark and quiet Entrance Hall, wet boots almost slipping on the marble tiles. He swept across the floor, taking the grand staircase two or maybe three steps at a time. He was leaving a trail of rainwater behind him and a dribbling, spotting of blood as the warm red liquid trickled from the superficial wound on his right arm. Something, somewhere, deep inside his chest, called out to him and he answered in a verbal murmur, "I'm coming." He hurtled along the first floor corridor and rounded the corner, through the doorway to meet the moving staircases that had already rearranged themselves so he had a direct path to his destination. His muscles were aching from his fast-paced sprint across the expansive grounds and his lungs felt tight and he could not steady his breathing because he was anxious and worried and frightened and he could not discipline his emotions - he just had to get to him - he skidded to an undignified halt beside the two stone gargoyles, opened his mouth to speak the password he did not consciously know, but they were already stepping aside to allow him entrance. He charged up the spiral staircase, catching himself before he fell, opening the door and entering the office that was so familiar to him, pulling his hood back, "Headmaster, I'm here…" His sentence broke as his eyes fell on Albus Dumbledore, slumped in his chair so he was doubled over and his face was obscured by his desk. He could hear hitched breathing and some sort of soft, guttural moaning. "Headmaster…" He steadied himself and crossed between the sofa and the low coffee table, and knelt behind the desk, looking into Albus' face, "It's me, I'm here."

At his soft words, Albus looked up and raised his head, "Severus."

Severus stared into his mentor's face and felt horror drown his stomach. Albus was pale - no, grey and colourless - his blue eyes pained and tired and almost glassy, lips thin and bloodied from where he had bitten either his lip or his tongue - or maybe both - and the crusting of a white substance in his beard suggested he had recently thrown up. Grasping both of Albus' arms, Severus could feel trembling and sweat even beneath the many layers of robes and other flamboyant material. It was only then that he noticed Albus' hand — the fingers blackened like those of a corpse, the nails shocking white against the skin below and Severus couldn't stand to stare at the hand any longer - how many times had those same fingers brushed against his cheek or tucked his hair back behind his ears or helped to heal invisible wounds - "You're far too hot, Headmaster, I need to lie you down and remove some of these robes - why must you always insist on wearing so many layers?" He was trying to be lighthearted so he could deny the inevitable, "Come, the sofa will do." He half carried, half dragged, Albus to the couch and laid him down, easily undoing the robes that constricted Albus' breathing. He recolied when he realised that it was not just Albus' hand that was cursed - it was his entire arm and right side. Severus pressed his cool hand to Albus' damp chest, feeling the Headmaster's heart pound frantically inside his ribcage, "Albus - what did you do?"

Seemingly roused by Severus' voice, Albus shifted position, "The ring."

Severus whirled from Albus to look at his desk. His eyes fell on the discarded ring, the silver band and black angular stone set in its confines. Drawing his wand, he approached it warily, reaching out and touching the silver band briefly. Dark Magic lanced along his nerves, his Dark Mark hissed angrily on his left arm and he felt an almost heady rush of power - he had always been particularly susceptible to Dark Magic - "Did you put it on?" He demanded of Dumbledore when his vision cleared, "Albus, how could you be so foolish?"

"Sorely tempted." Albus gasped, "I can't…" His head lolled to one side and Severus was by him in less than a moment, "Albus, you need to fight this. How long did you have the ring on your finger?" He was aware that his voice was trembling violently - this was not good - it was a deadly curse contained in that ring. Mortal.

"A minute, perhaps?" Albus faltered and Severus saw blood trickle from the corner of his mentor's mouth. It jolted him back into action - "I'll find something." He was skilled at this - Defence - he could find something that would save his mentor. He rummaged through the Potions cabinet next to Albus' Penseive, clinking the bottles together in his haste as he hunted for those labelled in his own spidery handwriting. "Where are my potions?" He shouted at the cabinet, dropping two vials and hearing them shatter.

"…Severus…"

He had found his collection, "Life-sustaining - there must be something - something rare - pixie tears - or something inherently good - unicorn blood, willingly given - all I need is more time - "

"…My boy…"

Severus pulled a bottle out with an only half stifled cry of triumph - "This should do just fine." He turned back to Albus, pulling the stopper from the phial, "Drink this." Albus' hands were shaking viently and he was clearly unable to summon any strength, so Severus reached out, opened Albus' mouth and almost forcefully tipped half the pale green liquid into Albus' mouth. Albus coughed and spluttered and seemed to be unable to swallow, "Damn it, Albus - forgive me - " He leaned forward and blocked both of Albus' nostrils until the other swallowed. Severus splashed the rest of the potion onto Albus' exposed chest, and involuntarily swept his hand down Albus' cheek, "I'll fix this…" He swore, "I just need my book." He looked up at the bookshelves, the one ledge set aside for him with his name carved into the wood, his collection of books - he walked toward it, not knowing or evening noticing that a hand reached out to take his but could not reach, "I can't see it." He was close to panicking, "I always have it here - I was reading it last year - did I take it to Manchester?" Please say he had not taken it to Spinner's End…

"Severus." Albus' voice had gained some strength, "You know…"

Still with his back to Albus, every muscle in Severus' body seemed to stiffen or tense, "Don't say it."

"It's too late. You know that. There's nothing you can do."

There was some sort of noise from Severus, before he turned to face Albus. His face was suddenly pale and he was shaking. A frown crossed his forehead, creating a crease between his eyebrows, and although his arms were folded, he seemed to be unable to control his hands. His fingers were grasping at his sleeves, clenching and twisting until the knuckles were beyond white. He swallowed. "What - what do you want me to do?"

Albus watched him. "Top drawer. There's an envelope. I need a quill too." The sentences were short and broken by staggered breathing and stuttering breaths. Severus nodded once and opened the drawer in Albus' desk to withdraw the blank envelope. He looked inside and unfolded the only piece of parchment. He read the title, eyes latching onto only three words - 'will', 'final' and 'testament'. He nearly dropped the sheet as something not far from a sob forced itself from his lips, "No…"

"Quickly. Severus."

He pulled the quill from the ink well and knelt beside Albus, helping him to grasp the nib and precariously sign a poor substitute of his normally rather ornate signature along the line at the bottom of the sheet. The quill dropped from his fingers and Severus pulled the parchment away, throwing it aside as if it burned him, trying to pretend they were not tears that were burning his eyes. He stayed beside Albus, and their eyes locked, "Let me fight for you, Headmaster. Let me try - please - the war - they need you - I need - " He broke off, "I…"

"No. There is noting. You and I both know that." Albus frowned but reached out and carefully pulled Severus closer to him so they were mere inches apart, "Severus. I need a…last request."

"Anything," Severus interrupted, "I'll do anything for you, you know that, but can't we just —"

"Listen to me." Albus took in a deep breath. "Harry enters his sixth year. He will need you. Severus. Promise me this. Promise me you will help him. Guide him. Protect him. Please." Their eyes would not leave each other's, "Promise me."

No matter how much he hated Potter, in that moment he would have done anything for Albus, would have denied him nothing, "I will."

Albus smiled, his healthy hand stroking down Severus; cheek and along his jawline. Severus leaned into the touch. "Thank you. Severus."

He was willing to beg Albus to stay, "Take me instead. I'll give you my strength - don't give in - not now - please, let me save you, I know the spell - let me do it."

Albus pressed one finger to Severus' lips, hushing him, "Stop." He let his hand fall back to where Severus' rested on his chest. "Win the war. You need to win the war."

Something was stopping him from speaking or replying. He was trying to formulate the words but his mind seemed to have slowed and nothing would come to him; there was a lump in his throat and a terrible pain in his chest and his eyes were flooded as he stared at Albus and he wanted to tell him but he could not speak. There was so much he wanted to tell him….

"Severus." Albus whispered. He forced their fingers to interlink and Severus clung to him tightly as if it would keep Albus in his world a mere moment longer, "I know, my boy. I know."

But how could Albus even begin to understand or know how Severus felt about him? The respect, the gratitude, the safety, the relief, the happiness, the affection, the love….

"Because. It's mutual. All of it. Never forget that." His fingers were beginning to slacken in Severus'. "Just like…falling asleep."

"Albus…" Severus whispered his name but his hand simply dropped away from Severus' and Albus Dumbledore moved no more. Severus stared at him and those glassy, unfocused blue eyes and one hand carefully brushed wayward strands of grey hair back so they were not in the way of that almost serene face. He let his fingers hover once more over Albus' heart and waited for many moments before logic forced him to admit there was no longer any sign of life and that his mentor had moved onto a different plane. He closed Albus' eyes with his hands and refastened his robes so it seemed the Headmaster was simply sleeping. He would have given anything, everything, his very soul, just to have one more minute with him.

But he simply sat beside Albus, unable to move, just sitting, while the birds swooped outside the window and the portraits started to whisper and silent tears tracked down his cheeks.


I anxiously await your comments ~ SS19.