My Bravest Soldier
Albus Dumbledore has many things to do on May 2nd 1998; such as win the war against Voldemort, and help Harry Potter to understand his true power.
But there is something else that he has to.
Somewhere else that he wants to be.
He had known that it was going to happen, of course. He had planned it—an extra addition to the plot for his murder.
He has just neglected to mention it to Severus.
At the end, he should have done. He should have told him. But on that cursed lightning struck tower, he had been silent. He couldn't even conjure the words to tell Severus that he was doing the right thing.
He had left the boy to suffer.
And suffer, he had. He had seen it from the confines of his portrait frame. Severus had slowly faded away, torn between serving Voldemort and protecting the students in Hogwarts under his care.
Right until the end, he was torn between Dumbledore and Voldemort.
Now he was going to pay for the crimes he had not committed—but accepted the blame for, without blinking.
He stood, in the Shrieking Shack, just waiting. He knew that soon enough, Severus would arrive.
He would arrive to face his death, at the hands of Lord Voldemort.
Albus couldn't help wondering. Did Severus know what was about to befall him?
He had so many things he needed to do. But he would not abandon Severus in his time of need.
Not this time.
There were soft footsteps. Voldemort straightened. Albus turned his head. And there Severus was.
He had seen him every day—but still the state that Severus was in shocked him. It chilled him to his very core, for it was what he had done. What he had caused. The thinness. The neglect for any personal care. The lack of anything in those dead and cold eyes.
How could he have done this?
Severus, ever the faithful servant, bowed to his master. "My Lord."
"Severus. You came." Voldemort rose from his seat, watching Severus through contemplating red eyes. "What news is there?"
"We are progressing well, my Lord, although, I ask you, let me return to the battle. I am a master Duellist, they might need me."
Albus frowned. What was Severus doing?
"Tell me how the battle is progressing, Severus." Voldemort repeated, and his voice had gained a deadly edge.
Severus paused for just one second, before continuing, "You are so close now, my Lord, their resistance is crumbling—"
"And it is doing so without your help." Voldemort interrupted, and instantly Severus was silent, observing him through those dead eyes. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think that you will make much difference now." Voldemort lowered himself back into his chair. "We are almost there. Almost."
There was more silence. Albus moved slightly, so he could see into Severus' face. He had not yet finished his mission; he had not yet given the last piece of the puzzle to Harry!
Severus strode forward, closing the gap between Voldemort and himself. "Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."
Voldemort rose straight upwards, with such grace and yet such power too. He fixed his terrible eyes on Severus, "I have a problem, Severus." His voice was soft. Too soft. Dangerous.
Albus felt his heart cry out, but he could do nothing. He could say nothing. He could simply watch the scene play out in front of him.
As he knew it would.
The final curtain. Severus' final act.
"My Lord?" Severus replied, a frown crinkling his brow.
Voldemort looked at the Elder wand—once Albus' wand, raising it to the light. Severus kept his eyes, bravely Albus thought, on the Dark Lord. "Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?" He sighed.
Albus watched Severus pause to re-evaluate his situation, "My...my Lord?" His tone was blank—but Albus knew something. He could sense Severus starting to understand. "I do not understand."
Albus knew he did.
"You—You have performed great magic with that wand." Severus finished, and Albus saw the fingers of his left hand twitch. He knew Severus so well...and knew that he was anxious.
How Albus wanted to hold him, one final time, to tell him that he was so brave. But Severus would not hear him.
"No." Voldemort answers. Albus felt the chill grab his heart. This was going to happen. Voldemort was going to kill him. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary..." Oh, the ever arrogant Tom. He would never understand that the man in front of him, the man he deemed his servant, was more extraordinary than Voldemort would ever hope to be. "But this wand...no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander, all those years ago."
Albus could sense the danger. He knew Severus could feel it too. Be brave now, child. This has to happen.
"No difference." Voldemort repeated.
Albus moved so he was stood near to Nagini. He could get a better view of Severus from there. Voldemort was starting to prowl. "I have thought long and hard Severus." He murmured. "Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?"
Severus' eyes were not following his master. Albus nearly jumped as he realised that the black irises were fixed on his position—as if he was looking at the snake's cage, but just a little beyond it. Their gazes were locked; but Severus could not see him!
The black eyes moved. "No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."
Suddenly Albus realised. Severus knew he was in danger. Severus knew he had not completed the mission. He was trying his hardest to find Harry, to tell him what lay ahead.
And yet. Albus knew that he would never succeed—for Voldemort was going to kill him. Here. Soon. Severus would never see the outside of the Shrieking Shack again. The bravest soldier in this war. And he would never live to reap the rewards. The terrible truth shattered Albus all over again.
"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw." But of course, Severus knew. He understood—he needed to get to Potter before... "He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."
Albus wished that Severus had understood just how similar he and Harry were. His mother's nature. The nature that Severus and Lily shared. Loyalty.
"But, my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself—"
Albus could not help but smile. Severus always knew how to talk his way out of a situation. He knew how to twist and turn when he was facing danger.
The smile faded when he realised that this time, it would not be successful.
"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends—the more, the better—but do not kill him." There was a long pause. Severus glanced at the Dark Lord, wondering what was coming next.
Albus' thoughts were more morbid. How was Voldemort going to finish the task? The Killing Curse, perhaps? The dignity was the least that Severus deserved.
"But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter." Voldemort turned to face Severus, and for one moment, his expression was perversely affectionate. Albus felt the anger flare in his heart. He wished that he was there to tell Severus just how much he loved him.
That was the one thing he had neglected to do, on that terrible tower. He would do it, tonight. He would sacrifice the end of the war, just to tell Severus that he cared. That he had actually loved him. That he realised what Severus had had to do.
"You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable."
Of course he was! Albus scoffed, he killed your greatest enemy! But Tom did not know what was going to befall him—that he had never died unwillingly, that they had planned it from the start, that after his death, Severus was going to be ultimately victorious.
"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him." Such a smooth liar, Severus, Albus contemplated. Then again, he always had been a good liar. "But let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you! I know I can..."
"I have told you, no!" The rage. Voldemort turned to face Severus, and Albus saw the anger. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"
The pause. Albus wanted to know what was going through Severus' head. He wanted to know what emotions Severus was feeling. Had he thought of his old Headmaster at all? Did he know that he was there, ready to take the fall with him?
"My Lord, there can be no question, surely...?"
"But there is a question, Severus. There is." He was toying with his wand. "Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"
And then Albus knew. He knew, that Tom knew that Severus knew. Severus' cover could not be blown here. Not now. Not after this fight.
"I-I cannot answer that, my Lord." A slight tremble on the first syllable. It worried Albus. Severus had to stay strong, just a few more moments.
For that was all he would have—a few more moments.
"Can't you?" A direct challenge. Voldemort was watching Severus, intrigued, wondering how the other was going to react. Severus narrowed his eyes slightly.
"My wand of yew did everything I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand." He talked of torture so flippantly. Albus felt the disgust. He looked forward to the death of this creature before him. "I did so, but Lucius' wand shattered upon meeting Potter's."
"I-I have no explanation, my Lord."
Once more, Severus' eyes had moved. He was watching the serpent. Surely, Severus was not thinking of killing the snake himself? Reveal himself to the Dark Lord?
But Severus was willing to sacrifice everything, just for the end of this war. He would try his hardest. He would do everything. His eyes lingered, just for a moment, on the space that Albus was stood. Once again, Albus wondered if Severus could see him. He wanted to reach out. He wanted to touch him.
"I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."
Severus looked away. Albus felt his heart break. Now he would know, for certain. He was going to die. He admired Severus for the lack of reaction to these words—when inside, there had to be fear.
"My Lord—let me go to the boy—"
Forever trying to carry out Albus' last wish. Albus' heart screamed at the injustice of everything—Severus should have lived on! He should survive! Everything he had done for this stupid war! Everything he had done for the foolish Headmaster who had asked too much!
"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here." Voldemort was almost whispering. "Wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner—and I think I have the answer."
Severus did not speak. His eyes were unreadable.
"Perhaps you already know it?" Voldemort had always known that Severus was something else—more intelligent than any of his other servants. More like an equal. How it pleased Albus that his "most trusted" would be his downfall. "You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."
"My Lord—"
Albus wanted to cry out. Severus could not beg for his life. After everything he had been through, everything he had done, he could not ask the Dark Lord to spare him now. It would do no good. He deserved to die with dignity and honour.
"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."
Severus tried, one final time. He had to get to Harry—Dumbledore saw the sudden fear. It was not fear of Voldemort, Severus was not afraid of Tom Riddle, it was the fear that he was going to fail in his task.
Brave and noble Severus Snape. As he had always been.
"My Lord!" Severus protested, one final time, but even he knew it was hopeless. He raised his wand, perhaps to curse Voldemort, perhaps to surrender it. Whichever it was, Albus would never know.
Because Voldemort was too fixated on the end. "It cannot be any other way." Was he saddened by this? Of course, Severus had been so good to him. Voldemort always knew to reward loyalty. Albus wondered if Voldemort was feeling remorseful.
He did not think Tom Riddle was capable of that emotion. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."
Severus straightened his back. He did not react when the wand, clutched in Voldemort's hand, fell. He did not react when he was engulfed in the cage, holding Nagini.
Albus heard the whisper in Parseltongue. He knew what it meant.
Kill.
There was a terrible scream. Of all the things Albus had seen, the horrors of the war, all the things he had done—this hurt him the most. It shook him to his core, hearing Severus Snape scream. The fangs pierced his neck, and he fell to the floor, knees giving way.
Voldemort stared at the dying Severus for a long moment, "I regret it." He said coldly. Albus would always wonder if he did regret it—for he would never know.
He took the serpent away from Severus, looking at the man one final time, before walking away.
Albus was about to step forward—when someone else did. He turned to see Harry throw off the Invisibility Cloak. He had been there, all that time.
He saw Severus turn, see Harry, reach out to him. He watched Severus grab Harry's robes and pull him close. "Take...it...take...it..."
Albus saw the memories, watched them collected in a vial provided with the ever resourceful Hermione Granger. He felt some terrible emotion in his heart—a mixture of pride and terrible heartache, as he realised that Severus had been successful in his mission.
He heard Severus' last words to anyone living, the simple, "Look at me." Such a soft whisper. There was a moment when Harry and Severus looked at each other—hated enemies. Albus knew that soon enough, Harry would see Severus in a new light—and that helped him to feel happier about the whole situation.
Then Harry looked up, and Severus lay still.
He heard Voldemort's voice, but was unable to take his eyes off Severus. He waited until Harry and his friends had left.
Severus was still.
Almost still.
Albus knew it was now his time. He had heard that those who were dead could be seen by those who were so close to the threshold. Severus Snape would not die alone. That was his mission.
He stepped close to Severus, kneeling next to him. He reached out—and touched Severus' hand. The gentle pressure on his fingers made Severus stir—and Albus felt the thrill run through his heart. He gently lifted the younger man into his arm, cradling him, "Well done, Severus, well done."
Eyelids fluttered open for the briefest of moments, "...I...did...what...you...asked..."
"Yes, yes you did." He felt the tears burn his eyes. "I wanted to be here with you. I am sorry you had to die, Severus, I never..."
"...You...knew...from...start..."
Albus would not deny him. "I hoped it would not happen."
"...Go...help...Potter..."
"No. I will stay with you. I need to stay with you. I abandoned you, Severus, last time. But I will not let my bravest solider die with no one to comfort him."
One hand reached up and gently brushed against Albus' robes, clutching at the fabric. "You...were...good...to...me...thank...you..."
"I loved you like a son, Severus. Thank you for everything you did for me." His eyes were blurry.
The grip tightened. "Look...at...me..." He whispered.
The blue eyes found the black. "I...love...you...back..." After a second, something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, black and empty. The hand holding Albus thudded to the floor, and Severus Snape moved no more.
It's rather painful to read that chapter, time after time, word after word...but...never mind. I never really liked the way Severus died-*mutters* should have died in the battle, brave soldier that he was...*speaks up* but never mind. I always thought Albus would be there.
Please leave a review. One day, I promise that there will be a happy fic! SS19 xx