Author's Note: I am tempted to say this my re-entry into HP fanfiction but we shall see. I am rather curious to see if I still have the touch to write Severus Snape as a prince. This is an attempt at canon-friendly fandom. Hope you enjoy and please read and review.
Disclaimer: "If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended
That you did but slumber'd here while these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding then a dream."
-Midsummer's Night Dream
O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,--
Blood and destruction shall be so in use
And dreadful objects so familiar
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds…
-Julius Caesar
Fell Deeds
By: Lady Erised
Chapter One: The Dog of War
The first true heat wave of summer break found Minerva McGonagall in her office at Hogwarts under a pile of folders and files. There were letters and piles of notes written in Albus Dumbledore's hand concerning changes he had meant to implement for the school, and topics he wished to address with members of his staff. There were letters of commendation and condemnation, and applications and more then one letter of resignation. There were requests for interviews from reporters, and Headmasters from other magical schools who wrote in support. Minerva knew acutely the meaning behind each inked word as she read over them. It was the same question that had been burned into the eyes of everyone at the funeral when they watched her. Everyone wanted to know if Minerva McGonagall could be possibly replace Albus Dumbledore. And Minerva would have gladly answered them had they but the courage to ask her personally.
There was no way she could replace him. She knew that, as well as if not more so, then anyone who dared glance at her with their accusing eyes.
It was all so surreal, Minerva thought as she stared into the mass of chaos on her desk, how the two worlds were merging to become one reality. She had found herself somewhere between Albus life and her own, between his life, his death and the world without him.
And she hated herself because it was becoming easier. Sometimes at least.
Sometimes, McGonagall could go hours without crumbling under the pain of Dumbledore's death and collapsing into despair. There were times when she did not live with the pain of betrayal and hatred, for both Dumbledore and Snape.
Snape. Even the very mention of his name could make Minerva buckle under emotion she didn't think herself capable of. Half of her wished she could hate him, could hurt him as wholly as he hurt her and the world, while the other half- the same side of her that desperately wished this was all some elaborate scheme of Dumbledore and Severus' (because after all, who loved Albus more then his Severus?) to change the tide of war.
There were times that side overtook her, claimed her senses and her beliefs so much that McGonagall rose and wanted to seek them out, wanted to go to Spinner's End and find Dumbledore and Snape laughing and sparing. It made her want to believe that everything would be okay. She wanted to know that it was all some bad dream, and this burden that how not passed unto her shoulders would pass into nightmare.
And sometimes, even though she would never tell anyone, Minerva wished Severus was still by her side. Somehow, she felt that Dumbledore's absence would be somehow weakened if only Snape was by her, if only his coolness of temper and coldness in calculation was there to counter balance her own emotion.
And then, Minerva remembered and the pain blinded her. She remembered and all else blacked out and she fell.
This is where Minerva was there was a knock on the door and the sounds of it opening to admit a visitor.
The woman in the door was a small mouse like creature. She had a small face, heart shaped and pink from the warmth outside. Her almond eyes were clear and descriptive, holding Minerva in a gaze of comfortable scrutiny. She had a pencil lip mouth, pinked lip and pursed together into something was should have been a smile. A thin snake of blond hair clustered on top of her head held in place with a wooden comb. All the mass her body held was in the plush cloaks she wore that peeled off of her body that revealed a lithe, feather of a figure that looked unsuited to the dark navy suit she wore.
When McGonagall's eyes finally met the woman's, the girl tilted her head to one side and smiled- a prompt toothy grin with dimples that Minerva felt would go better behind a hand and with a well-placed giggle.
"Forgive me for barging in unannounced." The woman said as she strolled into the office, folding the layers of cloaks over her arm and stumbling from the weight. "I am sent my Minister Scrimgeour to help with the dilemma you are facing. I assume I'm speaking to the Headmaster."
McGonagall rose from her seat with every intention of fetching Albus Dumbledore. She paused just before realizing the folly of her thought process and feeling the familiar stab of pain that had been her constant companion since Dumbledore's death.
"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall." McGonagall began, pushing her robes aside to extend her hand. "And as I told the Minister of Magic Hogwarts will continue to be…"
"Again, pardon." The girl said holding one had up, and then bringing it quickly down again to gather up her robes again. "But I am not here to discuss the school's continue performance. Those are lofty matters not befitting a servant as humble as I."
"Then why are you here?"
"The death" The girl began delicately, hesitating over that word death as if it displeased her, before continuing in the same light serious tone. "has caused great concern among the international community. Headmaster Dumbledore assured the Minister of Magic that he and his school would be protected, tended to, cared for and he is repaid with this."
Minerva felt her spine go rigid as she stared down this feather girl and all but hissed her reply. "How cruel of Albus, to get himself killed."
The girl blinked and looked down, she moved the cloaks from one side to another in her arms. "Understand, Madam Headmaster, I realize this is a difficult time for you and your school. And in truth, I am loath to perform my fell duties in such a sensitive time but the people demand justice. Retribution. Absolution. Minister Scrimgeour has promised this, and it is my duty to execute this promise. To do that, I need your cooperation."
Minerva frowned, and slinked back slightly. She retook her seat, but did not offer the girl a chair. "I don't understand."
"To speak plainly, Madam Headmaster, the people are afraid. The death of Albus Dumbledore has cast serious doubts on effectiveness of the Ministry to protect them. If so costly a sacrifice can be laid on the altar of freedom, if so godly a man can be brought down, what hope does the populace have against the Dark Lord?"
The girl looked down again, on cue, and licked her lips. Minerva thought she saw the girl shiver.
"I am an Auror. And as such, it is my duty to amend this mistake." The girl's voice was soft and sad. She looked pale and sick. She sounded almost afraid.
Minerva felt her stomach sink, and she wanted to laugh. "How on earth could you make this better?"
The girl continued to stare into the floor, and she fidgeted with the robes she held. She was very small. "My sole function is to deal with matters as delicate and brutal as the one which England now finds itself. You need only know I am Auror, and I was sent by the Minister of Magic. As to how I shall redeem this crime, I shall perform my duties as Anthony avenged Caesar." She intoned quietly, and then raised her head, settling on McGonagall. "I do not claim to be so poetic, or as romantic as Anthony when performing his duties. My orders are clear, simple, and final. I shall execute them without passion or prejudice."
The laughter of scorn had begun to form into disquiet. "And what are your orders?"
"My orders are to find Severus Snape," the girl answered. "and service justice."
It was McGonagall's turn to shiver. She found the girl's eyes and took a long time to search them. The girl's eyes were distinct but dumb, like the eyes of a cow but not ignorant. She had the narrowest of minds, the clearest of path that Minerva had only ever seen in Severus own eyes. Minerva could see the girl now, could see the perfection of pose, the dignity in her cruelty.
And this creature was cruel. Minerva found herself staring at her hands. The girl's hands were small, pink and perfectly manicured. She was the paragon of straight lines and extreme angles.
She all but smiled when she spoke of homicide.
"And how do you mean to serve justice?" Minerva whispered coolly.
The girl smiled, dimples shining as she turned smartly. "Such details are not befitting such a pure soul as yours, Madam Headmaster." She chirped as she passed through the door and down the hall. "I shall be here conducting interviews of you and your staff to best understand my adversary." Then as a kind of cool, quiet afterthought. "And you will help me."
"I'm sorry," McGonagall mumbled, as she stood to follow the girl but stopped at the door rather then follow the specter down the hall. "I did not catch your name."
The Auror paused. She did not turn around. "Refer to me as Du Lac."