*sigh* I am so sorry for unloading all these one shots onto you guys. I'm super sorry but plot bunnies are disrupting my flow of the writing of finishing stories but I have a feeling they are all going to run away soon so untill then...
Enjoy!
Disclaimer- I own nothing
One Water Droplet
What does one do when faced with this situation? Betray your friends, your family, the whole Wizarding world, the man who sacrificed everything. Or yourself? Could you give up your life the for the lives of so many others. Many would say yes, that they could. They never know until they are actually in such a situation. Few know such a feeling. A cold feeling that descends into your chest, pulling your heart in some many different ways. Live the rest of your life or betray someone else? I have asked myself that questions so many times while I sat in this cold dark dungeon.
I would have given up anything to feel the wind on my face, teasing my hair into knots. To turn my face up and let my skin soak in the warm sunbeams. I wish for the smells of grass and flowers, other than the stench of unwashed bodies and death. My heart yearns to be free and my legs ache to run.
The rusted manacle around my wrist is cold and it holds my hand level with my face as I sit here slumped against the wall. My jeans and pullover are filthy and they offer no protection against the damp cold. My feet are bare and I cough. Bone rattling coughs that can only mean pneumonia. My throat is raw and my stomach is beyond empty. I haven't eaten in what I believe to be three days, but one can never know down here. After hours of torture only to be thrown back into this cell, time loses all meaning, all significance. Time can pass slowly or quickly out there but we don't know. We remain oblivious to the functions, the use, the reasons one needs time for. We don't want to know how much time it will take before they come for us. How much time we were stuck under the Cruciatus, how long we were beaten, how long we were pressured, pushed for answers that we aren't willing to give up... at least not yet.
The only form of time I have now is to wait for them to come for me. This is my last day on the earth it seems. I was told to give them answers or they would give me to Greyback. Simple answers or a slow painful death. There is no hope for rescue for me. Voldemort, it seems, has won. We wasted so much time trying to stop him and he has won. So much wasted time. Time that no longer means anything to me. I barely remember my memories from before we were running. Hunting down the Horocruxs. I have only bare memories but they are of a certain dour Potions Professor. I held onto the belief that if he could survive then so could I. I was wrong, he grew up with it. He's a cunning Slytherin. I'm a headstrong Gryffindor. I had no chance in hell. I managed to survive this long but not any further than this.
At first it was fun for them, now my constant refusal of the questions has worn on their nerves. There are screams of frustration instead of laughter when a bout of Crucio does not work. My torture sessions are no longer the joyous occasion they were before. Every failed session ends up with pain for the other side as well. Every failed session leads into more anger at the people who have failed. I have almost slipped under the radar. He wants them to get answers. I'm no longer Hermione 'Mudblood' Granger; I am just a person who knows the answers to the questions they ask. I feel myself fading away. Slipping away every second I spend here.
I do believe I've made my decision. I'll give up my life because I love Harry. He deserves to have a second chance at life. A life that he can live without the proverbial sword hanging above his head by a single fraying thread. I know what will happen as soon as I die. I have read about it in an obscure dusty tome in the part of the library that no one uses. Verbal Magic Throughout the Ages. It was old and brittle but it was an interesting read. I found a confusing section and memorized it for further study. 'When one loves another with such fearlessness and with the whole heart. That upon the pain of a forced death, as the one who loves dies with saying they would rather expire their lives than that of their lovers, their lovers are hidden from the watchful eyes of death themselves. They cannot, will not be harmed by the people who have taken away their lovers from them with a forced death. Whether by the words that kill or the hands that do it themselves, the magic is unruly but it is bound to a strict rule. With evoking the words, one commits them self to expire for the loved one.' It is an old magic, an ancient magic. It turns out Dumbledore wasn't as nutty as we thought. When one dies for another, when they love that person so much, whether as a lover, a friend or as family. The person has protection from death or harm from the people who caused the person's death. Whether it be by orders or the actual act committed personally. Harry's mother gave him such a protection when she died for him. It was confusing at first but I managed to figure it out. I never thought I would be able to use it for someone I loved. Never thought I would be able to use such an ancient magic. But the choice has come and I choose to save Harry and everyone else.
There is a steady drip of moisture into a puddle. It can become annoying but the sound is of hope. Every little drop is falling only to land into a large puddle. The drop doesn't fall onto the floor all by itself. Left alone to evaporate from the position. No, it falls into the puddle. But one must remember that a puddle started with one water drop trying to find a new way. Following the path gravity took it, but others followed and so there was no chance of evaporation. When people gather together, stand together, they can defeat the seemingly impossible. We can defeat Voldemort, we just need the first water droplet to fall. I have a feeling I'm the water droplet. If I die Harry will try his hardest to destroy the creature who caused my life to expire. Others, other droplets, will follow and soon we have a puddle. I am willing to be the water droplet that starts the rest. I am willing to sacrifice myself for the cause.
There is that rusty groan as the lock is turned. They have come for me. More than one I know. I almost laugh at them. What harm will come to them from one muggleborn without her wand? One that they have starved, dehydrated, tortured, so much that she is barely strong enough to hold her head up? But still they don't trust me not to attack and they move in fours. I don't see anything; my eyes are on the filthy floor. Not really seeing anything, my entire attention is on what I hear. Cloth rustling as one lifts up the hem of his robe. Master Malfoy. There is a sharp tap tap, Mistress Lestrange. Oh and is that a faint panting and growl I hear? Greyback. Then a sharp scrap of shoes on the floor. Shuffling steps, timid steps, Pettigrew.
It is interesting to find that I know their mannerisms without looking at them. I know that in a few seconds Master Malfoy with sniff in distain and aim a kick at Pettigrew to unlock me. Greyback will chuckle and growl when he catches the scent of my blood. Bellatrix with remain quiet but she is smirking. I know she will. And just as I predicted a sniff and a muffled thump while Pettigrew squeaks like the rat he is. Quick shuffling steps near me and a rough cold sweaty hand, the other is a cold smooth metal. They both grasp my manacled wrist and I feel the cold rust metal release my arm and Pettigrew drops my hand as if I would bit him. It lands on the floor with a muted thump. I have no strength to hold it up. I have no strength to stand, so on is either going to have to drag me or carry me. I always know it is the latter but surprisingly large, hairy, clawed hands grasp me around my waist and I'm thrown over Greyback's shoulder. He isn't gentle, he's rough and jostles my many bruises and cut but it is definitely better than being dragged. I offer no resistance; I'm limp and barely moved as we ascend the stairs. Back to the study.
The first thing that happens is Greyback lets me drop, none to gently onto the carpeted floor. I lay there with no strength to move, no will to move. I'm in pain and why would I move to make it worse? The second thing is I know he is here. Voldemort. And surprisingly the first thing out of his mouth is.
"Is she even alive?" I would have laughed at that but I was saving my strength for what I had to say. Just a few words and then the pain would disappear.
"I can hear her heart beating, my lord. She is alive." The rough growling voice or the werewolf grates on my ears. But not as much as the slightly higher pitched hissing of Voldemort's.
"She doesn't look responsive. Did you get carried away with the crucios, Bellatrix?" There is such a cold harshness to the voice and I slowly and painfully pull myself to my knees. My eyes remain on the floor. "Never mind than, Bellatrix. The mudblood has saved you." It is a great insult and I hear the slight gasp. I want to smile but I don't.
"Well, well, well. Do you have anything to say about your friend Potter? Or about the Order of the Phoenix?" He pauses as if waiting for an answer. I give none. "Bellatrix! Get her up." The insane witch grabs me by the hair and pulls my to standing. A silver dagger rests at my throat. I am now face-to-face with one of the Wizarding World's dangerous wizards. His red eyes are practically slits and his mouth is a crooked slash. I can hear Bellatrix practically grunting to keep me standing so I lock my knees slightly.
"It is either you or Potter. I will grant you your life for his." He hisses the words and his large snake, Nagini, emerges from the back of his throne. I finally open my mouth.
"You may take my life, but I won't give you his. You may kill me but I won't hand over the lives of those in the Order. I will die to protect the ones I love and care for." The magic that soars through my body at that is uplifting and healing, the pain is gone for a few moments. It fills my body with strength for my last stand. I narrow my eyes at him. "So, do it. Kill me, because I won't let you get near them. I won't tell you a thing." I then look away from him and to his right, my eyes lock onto his. The dour potions Professor, he is shocked by what I said. He knows what I have done. If Voldemort gives the order to have me killed, or does it himself. He can't harm anyone who is in the Order... this includes one Severus Snape. I'm dying to save him as much as Harry it seems. I smirk and that is what sets Voldemort off.
"Kill her! Do it, Bellatrix! I don't want her to breath anymore!" My smirk turns into a full-blown smile as I look at the pale, bald man. He's lost a game he didn't even know he was playing. He underestimated me just as he did with Harry's mother and Dumbledore.
"You lose." I whisper it as the strength leaves my limbs and Bellatrix drags the blade across my throat. There is no spray of blood but I feel the warmth of it staining my chest and neck. She releases me as if I stained her and I fall to me knees. I don't feel any more pain, I blink slowly as silver lights stream out with my blood, but they float in the air. Hovering around me like a silver blanket. Voldemort is angry at what he doesn't understand. Snape does though. He doesn't say a word. The lights condense around me, like a shield before they sink into my skin and I collapse sideways into the carpet.
I wake up to Harry shaking me with tears in his eyes. I smile with cracked lips. Dumbledore was too smart for his own good. He left me a letter, telling me that he died to protect me, Ron, and Harry. He told me about the book in the library. He told me that if I was caught to evoke the ancient magic. I survive because Dumbledore died for me and because I died, I gave Harry and everyone else protection as well. If Voldemort hasn't realized I am still alive, he will soon enough.
The cold night air bites at my skin as we run underneath the stars. I'm not exactly running, stumbling is more like what I am doing. I am too weak to do much of anything else. Harry and everyone else disappear into the darkness. I tilt sideways to fall but I am wrapped up in a dark cloak and a warm arm wraps around my waist, holding me up. I wrap my arm around his neck and we run. Away from the Manor, away from the cells, away from the egomaniac. We are well into the forest before we stop. He helps me lean up against a tree and almost as quickly as we ran, his hands are at my neck checking for any sign of a wound.
"Silly girl! What were you thinking?" The words would have been harsh except they were laced with worry and relief.
"Severus, I'm fine. It went as I thought it would. As Dumbledore thought it would." I wince as I extend my leg. Almost as quickly as he checked my wounds he pressed a vial to my lips.
"Drink." I do as I was bid and swallow the pain potion.
"Still, he shouldn't have let you do that. You could have died." His worry touches me and I caress his pale face.
"I did die. And now, no matter what he does or says. You are safe. You promised you would protect me from, him. I promised the same." My hand moves from his face to his neck then threaded through his hair. I smile as he brings his head down and hesitantly kisses me on my lips. It is better than hearing and 'I love you'. Severus is a man of action, not of words. We have never said the words to one another; we choose to say it through our actions. And my actions tonight were the greatest 'I love you' Severus has ever received. And one more droplet finds its way to puddle.
Well what did you think? This is just one of the many stories that have been bouncign around in my head. I am slowly working my way through that epilogue I promised you. Trust me it is almost done.