Summary: If you had the chance to change things, to do it all over over again, to save lives, would you do it? Even if it meant risking the peace everyone fought for, and having to go back to an abusive household for another 15 years? Even if it meant befriending your parents killer, all because of one conversation, where you saw the genuine fear and humanity in your would-be killer? Could you be that selfless?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, nor any of the plot from the 7 harry Potter books. That is all property of J.K. Rowling. The plot of this fanfiction is mine, however I have used sections from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in this chapter. Whatever you recognize is most likely from the books, though I have made minor changes to better fit my writing style for this story, and the changes are mine.
Credits to the cover photo for this fanfic go to Collette J Ellis, who can be found on deviantArt at .com or on facebook at (/)collettejellisart
(just remove the parentheses)
Update: I'm not sure if it's showing the cover photo or not...my friend told me it was a girl with red hair and wings, which is not the pocket watch pic that was done by Collette.
Chapter 1
Harry peered through the darkness towards the willow's trunk, trying to see the single knot in the bark of the old tree that would paralyze it. Ron and Hermione caught up, Hermione so out of breath that she couldn't speak.
"How- How're we going to get in?" Ron panted, "I can see- the knot- if Crookshanks- were here-"
"Crookshanks?" Hermione wheezed, bent and clutching her chest. "Are you a wizard, or what?"
"Oh- yeah-" Directing his wand at a twig on the ground, Ron said "Wingardium Leviosa!" The twig flew up, hovering in the air for a moment, then zooming directly towards the knot, through the ominously swaying branches. It jabbed at a place near the roots, and at once, the writhing tree became still.
"Perfect!" panted Hermione.
"Wait."
For a moment, Harry hesitated. Was he playing into Voldemort's hands, leading his friends straight into a trap? But the reality of the situation seemed to close upon him, the only way forward was to kill the snake, and the snake was with Voldemort, and Voldemort was at the end of the tunnel, so even if it was a trap, they had to go. Every moment wasted was a moment where another person died.
"Harry, come on, just get in there!" said Ron, pushing him forward.
Harry wriggled into the earthy passage hidden in the tree's roots. It was a much tighter squeeze than it had been in third year, when things seemed so much simpler. The tunnel was low—ceilinged: they had had to double up to move through it nearly four years ago; now there was nothing for it but to crawl. Harry went first, his wand lit, expecting at any moment to meet Death Eaters, but none came. They moved in silence, Harry's gaze fixed upon the swinging beam of light from the wand held in his fist.
At last, the tunnel began to slope upward and Harry saw a sliver of light ahead. Hermione tugged at his ankle.
"The Cloak!" she whispered. "Put the Cloak on!"
He groped behind him and she forced the bundle of silky cloth into his free hand. With difficulty he dragged it over himself, and murmured, "Nox," extinguishing his wandlight, and continued on his hands and knees, as silently as possible, all his senses straining, expecting every second to be discovered, to hear a cold clear voice, see a flash of green light.
And then he heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of them, only slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel was blocked up by what looked like an old crate. Hardly daring to breathe, Harry edged right up to the opening and peered through a tiny gap left between crate and wall.
The room was just as dank and grimy as he remembered it to be, and he almost expected to see Wormtail lying on the floor, held at wandpoint by Sirius again, with Ron nearby, clutching at his broken leg. But this time Sirius was dead, Wormtail was gone; strangled by the same hand that his master had bestowed upon him, and Ron was in the tunnel behind him. From his position behind the crate, Harry could see that the light at the end of the tunnel came from the enchanted sphere where Nagini floated, safe from all threats, the last of the Horcruxes. He could see the edge of a table, and a long, thin hand with bone white fingers twirling a wand.
Then he heard Snape's voice, and barely managed to prevent himself from starting in surprise; Snape was almost right beside where they were hidden, judging from the nearness of his voice.
"…My Lord, their resistance is nearly gone, their forces are overrun by the Dark creatures and Death Eaters-"
"And it is doing so without you, Severus," Voldemort said in his high, clear voice. "Talented though you may be, your presence will not make any difference now. We are almost there."
"Please my Lord, let me find the boy, let me find Potter and bring him to you. I know I can find him, my Lord."
Snape strode past the gap, and Harry drew back a little, keeping his eyes fixed upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding her, but he could not think of anything. One slip, and he would give away his position and draw his friends into danger. . . .
Voldemort stood up. Harry could see him now, see the blood red eyes, the pale, serpentine face, the pallor of him gleaming slightly in the semidarkness.
"I have a problem, Severus," said Voldemort softly.
"My Lord?" said Snape.
Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton.
"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"
In the silence Harry imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled—or was it Voldemort's sibilant sigh lingering on the air?
"My—my lord?" said Snape blankly. "I do not understand. You—you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."
"No," said Voldemort. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, 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."
Voldemort's tone was musing, calm, but Harry's scar had begun to throb and pulse; pain was building in his forehead, and he could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Voldemort.
"No difference," said Voldemort again.
Snape did not speak. Harry could not see his face. He wondered whether Snape sensed danger, was trying to find the right words to reassure his master.
Voldemort started to move around the room: Harry lost sight of him for seconds as he prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and fury mounted in Harry.
"I have thought long and hard, Severus . . . do you know why I have called you back from battle?"
And for a moment Harry saw Snape's profile. His eyes were fixed upon the coiling snake in its enchanted cage.
"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."
"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others die around him, knowing that they are sacrificing themselves so that he may live a little longer. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."
"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by someone other than yourself—"
"My instructions to the Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends—the more, the better—but do not kill him. They know the consequences if they fail in that. But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable."
"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. 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!" Voldemort snapped, letting his magic flare in annoyance before clamping down on it once again. Harry caught the glint of red in his eyes as he turned again, and the swishing of his cloak was like the slithering of a snake, and he felt Voldemort's impatience in his burning scar. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"
"My Lord, there can be no question, surely—?"
"—but there is a question, Severus. There is."
Voldemort halted, and Harry could see him plainly again as he slid the Elder Wand through his white fingers, staring at Snape.
"Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"
"I—I cannot answer that, my Lord."
"Can't you? You who were so close to Dumbledore, surely he must have told you some of what he suspected happened those times."
The stab of rage felt like a spike driven through Harry's head: he forced his own fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was Voldemort, looking into Snape's pale face.
"My previous wand did everything of which 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. I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's."
"I—I have no explanation, my Lord."
Snape was not looking at Voldemort now. His dark eyes were still fixed upon the coiling serpent in its protective sphere.
"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."
And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape's face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.
"My Lord—let me go to the boy—"
"All this long night when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its master . . . and I think I have the answer."
Snape did not speak.
"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."
"My Lord—"
"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the one who killed its last master, Albus Dumbledore. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine."
"My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand.
"It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master the boy." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been spared: but then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.
"Kill."
There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.
"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly. Turning his back on Snape, he touched his wand to his throat and spoke. "You have fought in vain, valiantly, but in vain nonetheless. However Lord Voldemort values your bravery. Blood has spilled, and if you continue to resist, you will all die. I am a merciful Lord however, so I command all my forces to retreat at once. You have an hour, take the time to dispose of your dead with dignity and treat your wounded. If at the end of that hour, Harry Potter has not surrendered himself to me, the battle will recommence and you shall all die. Harry Potter, I now speak to you directly. You have hidden, and allowed others to fight and die in your stead. I shall be waiting for you in the Forbidden Forest. Previously I did not enter the fray, deciding to give you all a fighting chance, this time I shall not be so merciful. If you do not show yourself before the one hour is up, I shall enter the battle, and will personally slaughter every last man, woman, and child who dared to hide you from me. One hour."
Seeing Snape lying on the floor, bleeding, Harry couldn't just stay hiding anymore, and seeing that Voldemort had his back turned, Harry crawled out of the tunnel and hurried to Snape's side, ignoring the hushed cries of his friends to come back and stay hidden and that he couldn't afford to be caught with one Horcrux left to destroy.
He ignored them though, and went to Snape's side, casting a Muffliato around them as he went.
As Harry moved into Snape's field of vision, Snape's eyes widened in fear.
"Foolish... boy…" he rasped, "He… will… see… you. All… of… this… in… vain… if… die… here."
Harry ignored Snape's words, knowing that the man would always berate him for doing stupid things. He didn't care though, since he had realized in a flash of insight that Snape was always on their side and that he had a role to play and that he would play it till the very end. "Is there anything I can do, Sir? Do you have any antivenin prepared for something like this?"
"Beozar… Blood… replenishing… potions… left… pocket…" Snape managed to gurgle.
Harry fumbled with Snape's robes, trying to find where his damn pockets were until Hermione, who had slipped out from the tunnel after Harry, pushed him aside with a quietly muttered "Are you a wizard or not?" before summoning the required items. She sealed off the bite marks, which were bleeding quite heavily, using a long and complicated charm that Harry couldn't follow, so he turned his attention to Voldemort instead.
"Harry Potter, I now speak to you-"
Harry jumped when he heard Voldemort speak his name though his back was facing him, he knew that they were risking a lot to try and save Snape, but he didn't think that they'd be found out this quickly; then he realized that it was a message Voldemort was issuing to everyone who was fighting. He turned his attention back to Snape and Hermione; she was busy spelling the potions and beozar into Snape, who was fading in and out of consciousness, and Ron was keeping an eye on Voldemort.
"If there's anything else that can be done for him, or that you need to speak about, you'd best make it quick," Hermione told him in a hushed whisper. "We need to get out of here before he notices, and Professor Snape needs proper medical attention."
Harry bent over Snape, who reached out a hand, pulling Harry close to him as he spoke in a harsh rasping gurgle "Take… it… Watch… You…must… Promise… me…" As he spoke, a silvery blue liquid began to leak from him; realizing it was memories, Harry fumbled for his wand to conjure one before Hermione conjured one and pushed it into his hand.
"I promise I'll watch, Professor," Harry choked out, wanting to do more for the man that he just realized had been protecting him all his life.
When the flask was full, Snape's grasp on Harry slackened, and he managed to choke out one last thing "Look… at… me…"
The green eyes found black, and images forced themselves into Harry's mind; a spell that seemed to freeze someone, and an image of Madam Pomfrey. Then the images faded as Snape's strength waned and he fainted from the pain, the hand clutching Harry's robes falling slack to the floor of the Shrieking Shack.
"Is he dead?" Ron asked, his face pale as he looked at Snape.
Hermione cast some spells before shaking her head and replying "No, he's just fainted, probably from the pain and stress that his body is under." Turning to Harry, she asked him "What did he show you?"
"There was a spell of some sort, it produced a pale blue light and made the target person freeze or something. He also showed me Madam Pomfrey, I guess he wanted us to take him to her," Harry answered.
"How are we going to carry him all the way to the castle without having his condition worsen?" Ron asked.
"Stasis charm," Hermione breathed.
"Huh?"
"That's the spell he showed you Harry, it was a stasis charm. He knew he couldn't be moved in his current state otherwise." Hermione swiftly cast the charm on Snape, and then they got up to make a quick exit.
Unfortunately that was also the time that Voldemort had just finished his message and had turned around.
A/N: For those of you who are also following Snakes, I am not abandoning that story, in fact I recently drew a calendar just so I could work out the timeline for the summer and the first month of school. I was stuck on some parts of that for a while, but I should be updating that within a month or so. I just posted this because it was an idea I had and I just had to get it out. I'll probably be working on both of the fics off and on depending on which ones I get ideas for first.