And He Mastered Himself
Chapter One - The Doe
The cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere on a snow-covered hill and a bitterly cold night with a soft 'pop'. He looked around, cautiously. The trees pressed close together but hadn't stopped the snow from falling gently onto the ground and starting to settle. He hurried over to stand under the of a large and overgrown laurel bush where the thick canopy had prevented the snow from settling. He did not want to mark his footsteps in the snow and reveal his presence. His long black robes whipped around him by the strong breaths of wind that snaked through the trees and he drew his cloak tighter around him, already beginning to shiver.
For a few moments he stood, still as a statue. A drip running down the long, hooked nose and a sniff were the only signs that the man was alive. Severus Snape seemed to finally make up his mind, for he began to move through the trees, following a silvery glint in the distance. It sparkled and glittered, reflecting off the bright moon in the clear night sky above. He kept to the trees so that his presence would be harder to spot, though he silently cursed Dumbledore for requiring him to be so secretive and distant from Potter. It would, he thought for the hundredth time, be much simpler to reveal himself to the boy. Dumbledore himself had said that the Dark Lord feared the unknown and unexplained connection between him and the boy, that the Dark Lord would not use legilimency against Potter and, therefore, would never see Snape in Potter's mind. But Snape had promised to stay hidden.
He eventually came to a quiet, peaceful clearing in the trees where a small pool stood, frozen over completely. The trees surrounding the pool, stripped of leaves and looking ragged and daggered, seemed to Leena in towards the pool. It looked as though they longed for the refreshing water and were stretching out trunks and branches, eager for closeness. His breath rising around him in mists, Snape considered what to do. Need and valour, he thought to himself, pacing around the pool while the silent moon rose steadily over the clearing, need and valour. After several minutes pacing he stopped and looked at the pool. Need and valour. Dumbledore refused to give an explanation for the need of the sword, but it seemed the simplest way to induce valour, to make Potter dive into the icy waters to retrieve the sword.
Pulling out his wand from the inside of his robes, Snape pointed it at the surface of the frozen pool and said softly, "Diffindo."
The ice in the centre of the pool split with a loud crack. Snape watched the chunks of ice float away from the centre of the pool, leaving a gap in the icy water about a meter wide. He now reached for a much larger object from inside his robes, wrapped in a dark, protective cloth. He pulled the sword of Gryffindor out of the cloth and laid it on the ground. It too sparkled in the moonlight and for a moment, as Snape stared at the beautifully embossed handle and the words etched along the hilt, he felt a sudden sense of loss, of what might have been, of what should have been.
Dumbledore's words on the night of the Yule Ball came back to him, "Sometimes I think we sort too soon…"
Snape suddenly snapped out of his reverie with a bitter snort and, pointing his wand at the sword now, said commandingly, "Wingardium leviosa!"
The sword rose slowly into the air, dangling by the end of the hilt as though someone had tied a string around it. Snape directed the sword over the bank and towards the hole in the ice. He didn't want to drop it in case it hit the ice, regardless of all its magical properties. His tongue hanging out slightly due to concentration, he guided the sword down very slowly until the blade of the sword touched the water. The rest of the sword followed and in a matter of moments, it had disappeared from view and come to rest at the bottom of the pool. Snape let out a long, deep sigh. He had not been aware that he was holding his breath.
One last spell to cast and he could move on with the plan. "Glacius!" A jet of icy air came streaming out of Snape's wand and he directed it at all the cracks he had just formed on the surface. The surface of the water slowly began to freeze over again, removing the cracks and any sign that the pool had been tampered with.
Snape looked around him, the pool and surrounding forest was as empty as ever. Potter, Weasley and Granger were out there somewhere, now all he had to do was lure Potter in. He retreated a good distance from the pool, to a clump of trees where he could easily see what was going on but was almost impossible to be seen himself. Once he was sure he was well hidden, he drew out his wand once more and filled his mind with Lily Evans, her laugh, the brightness and fire in her eyes, every tiny detail that he loved about her and whispered, "Expecto Patronum!"
The silver doe burst from the end of his wand, casting a shimmering, eerie glow onto the dark forest floor. It was an achingly beautiful thing and Snape hated to see it as much as he yearned to see it, his closest and most tortured connection to Lily. He did not have to speak his intentions to the doe, it knew from his thoughts what he wanted of it, to find Potter and bring him to the pool. The doe looked at him for a second, blinked once and turned slowly away from him. Snape wanted to call out, to make the doe stay with him, but he mastered this selfish impulse and watched the light from the patronus fade slowly away into the night. He drew his knees up to his chin, pointed his wand at his robes and watched a stream of hot air warm the robes and send a circulation of hot air round the inside of his cloak. That would keep him warm until Potter arrived. He leant his head on the tree against which he was rested and waited.
Snape did not know much time had passed, he had even began nodding off against the tree, when something made him leap to his feet and peer through the trees. The doe's presence had alerted him. He could see her light growing again in the distance and his heart began to race with, what was it, excitement? Anticipation? A few seconds later he saw Potter, still a distance away from the pool. Potter paused, as if to speak to the doe but it vanished. The darkness that the forest was plunged into was only temporary, however, for Snape heard a whispered, "Lumos" float through the trees and a light appeared at the end of Potter's wand as he walked slowly towards the pool. He stood by the pool for some time, clearly deciding what to do. He had definitely noticed the sword; Snape was sure of it. He was impatient now. Potter must know what he had to do. Snape cursed silently as he watched Potter try to summon the sword with a spell. Potter had always been dim, the solution, the only way forward was obvious. Looking suddenly resigned, Potter placed his wand on the floor and began to undress. Snape kept his eyes fixed on Potter and the pool. He broke the ice with the same spell Snape had used, and after pausing briefly, jumped into the pool.
Snape stood, frozen in place, his heart racing as he watched Potter fighting the unbearable cold of the frozen water. Then, he dived, and the surface of the water went mad as Potter kicked hard to send him to the bottom. After a moment, however, the surface of the water began to calm, to regain its graceful serenity and marble-like surface. Snape began to sweat. Potter should have got the sword by now, what was he playing at?
What could he do? He couldn't let Potter drown and something must have gone terribly wrong for him not to have reappeared after at least twenty seconds. Snarling inwardly at what he had to do, of the gut-wrenching cold he would have to experience just to save the boy he hated Snape took a step out from behind the trees, towards the pool. Before he could take a second step, however, a figure had come flying through the trees, sprinting to the water's edge. Snape almost fell over in his haste to retreat behind the trees where he had been hiding and, in his haste, he snapped a dead branch lying on the floor and the figure looked up from the pool. From his bright red hair Snape could tell instantly it was Weasley.
"HARRY!" Ron shouted, his attention instantly refocused on the water. Looking wildly around him, he seemed to find no alternatives. He dived, feet first, into the pool and began thrashing around, his arms under the water, seemingly grappling with Potter. After a few seconds, Potter's black hair broke the surface of the water and Snape let out another long sigh of relief. As much as he hated Potter, he had to master his loathing of the family name. This was more important. The destruction of the Dark Lord was all that mattered now. He would have preferred for Potter to drown in the pool than face the dreadful end Dumbledore had been preparing him for all his life. However much he disliked the idea of sending Potter to his death like a lamb for slaughter, it was the only way to defeat the Dark Lord, at least according to Dumbledore.
He stood, watching Ron pull Potter out of the pool before flopping down beside him and bending over his chest. Confused, Snape leaned further out of his hiding place to see what Ron was doing. He was tugging at something around Potter's neck, it looked like a necklace with a small box on the end of it. Snape had not seen it when Potter was undressing as his back was turned away from his hiding place. After failing to pull it off or untie it, Ron pulled out his wand and muttered an inaudible spell. There was a flash of light and the chain of the necklace split in two, Ron grabbed the necklace and threw it away from the two of them onto the cold hard ground a few paces away before collapsing back to the ground. Both of their chests rose and fell sharply, taking in grateful lungs of the biting winter air and for a while the two boys lay, exhausted, unable to move.
Snape didn't know what to do. His mission was over; Potter had got the sword and could now use it to… to what? Dumbledore refused to say what the outlaws needed with this magical sword. He could easily disapparate now, while the boys were unaware, and they would never know. He'd return to Dumbledore never knowing what part he was playing in this greatest of wars. Yet again, a hatred rose up inside of Snape. The same hatred he felt when he ran to the top of the astronomy tower the previous year, as Dumbledore had pleaded for Snape to kill him. A recklessness overcame Snape. He had spent his life being careful, being precise, never letting his emotions get the better of him. Only by living such a life could he have fooled the Dark Lord into thinking he was faithful to him. Not today. Not now. He sat back down and waited for the boys to rise.
After a while Ron got up and walked over to the necklace. As he picked it up Potter also stirred and sat up. He heard the two of them talking to each other in quiet voices but couldn't hear the conversation from where he was hiding. His heart leapt into his mouth when Ron muttered something, pointing at the same time right at the spot where Snape was hiding. Panicking and fumbling for his wand, Snape cast a powerful disillusionment charm on himself just as Potter came running through the trees towards him. Snape stood motionless as Potter scoured the area around him. If he walked up to the tree he would walk right into Snape. He held his breath. Now that Potter was inches away from him, Snape could see clearly what the necklace was, for it was in fact a locket. A serpentine S stood out clearly against the dark metal clutched in Potter's pale hands. Snape would have been extremely interested to know what interest the locket was to Potter and the others, had his situation not been so precarious. Potter did not move any further towards Snape., however. He looked around at the ground that was mercifully clear of snow and turned back towards Ron.
That had been close. Now more than ever was the time to leave, to disapparate and get back to Hogwarts. But his hatred for Dumbledore's secrecy and his curiosity at what Potter was doing with a locket with Slytherin's mark on it compelled him to stay where he was. He had even forgotten the cold, so keen was he to stay with the boys and see what they were up to.
Potter and Ron had walked over to a rock and seemed to be arguing about something. Ron was backing away, the sword in his hand while Potter sounded as though he was trying to persuade him of something. Were they going to open the locket? Stab it? Destroy it? Did it have some connection to the Dark Lord? Snape crept out from behind the trees he'd been hiding behind for the last half an hour and walked between the trees closer to where the two boys stood, his disillusionment charm still making him almost impossible to be seen. He made sure to keep his distance and not trip or fall over twigs and branches.
"Please, just get rid of it, Ron."
Snape was close enough to clearly hear the conversation now. Ron was walking towards the stone, the sword grasped so hard in his hands that his palms were shaking. Potter had already placed the locket on the boulder's flat surface. Snape came to a halt, peering out from behind a thin and snow-covered ash tree. He kept his wand in his hand, just in case. He had no idea what would happen if they broke the locket but from the fear in Ron's voice and the desperation, the pleading in Potter's voice made Snape feel unnerved. He felt… was it fear? He paused in looking at the locket to think.
In his almost two decades of working as a spy for the Order he had felt and done many things. He had lied, spied, killed and manipulated to ensure his true intentions were never discovered. He had mastered occlumency in order that the Dark Lord would trust him and his information completely. He had felt horror, revulsion, and self-loathing at what the Dark Lord and Dumbledore had both asked him to do. He had not, however, felt fear. He was always totally sure of his actions, the reasons behind them and had rarely felt that his safety was in true jeopardy. Now though, a tremor of fear ran through him and he physically trembled. This was not right; he didn't want that locket opened. A sudden urge came over him to run out into the open and snatch the locket away from them.
Just as he fought the urge, however, he heard Potter whisper, "One… two… three…" and a hiss escaped him.
Snape fell back against the tree in horror as he heard the Dark Lord's voice emanating from the locket which was shaking and trembling on the rock.
"I have seen your heart, and it is mine."
Potter was shouting, Ron was standing, struck dumb with fear, the sword held loosely in his hand, and Snape lay on the ground paralysed. Could the Dark Lord sense his presence? Had he just made a catastrophic blunder in, for once, letting his emotions get the better of him? Just as he wondered what possible magic the locket could be imbibed with a sudden gust of wind rushed around the clearing and out of the locket blossomed two ghostly shapes, grey and smoke-like in quality. The bodies of Potter and Granger circled and taunted Ron while Snape lay helplessly on the ground. He could see Weasley's courage failing and silently willed him to raise the sword and stab the locket.
"Come on, Weasley, come on!" Snape muttered desperately. The noise of the wind, of the taunting parodies, of Potter's desperate pleading with Weasley to strike all drowned out Snape's voice. He could not believe what Dumbledore had asked of them, three teenagers alone in the wilderness on some secret quest and this is what they had to fight. The recent blast of fear he had felt when the locket had opened returned as the ghostly figures began walking towards Weasley, their bodies intertwining and shifting around in the wind. Weasley couldn't do it, Snape thought desperately, the sword was raised in his hand, but he looked defeated, distraught.
And then the shapes kissed, wrapping their arms around each other and a split second later the sword came slashing down onto the locket. A piercing scream wrenched the night apart and Snape covered his ears in an attempt to drown out the appalling, ear-splitting screech. He had to leave. He had overstayed his welcome far too long. Without a second glance back at the locket or the two boys Snape rose shakily to his feet and fled up the hill, his black cloak flapping around him like a great, monstrous bird. At the top of the bank Snape looked back at the two boys embracing and talking softly to each other. The Dark Lord, or whatever parody of image of him that lived inside the locket had, once more, made the mistake he would keep on making. In taunting Weasley about the love he clearly felt for the Granger girl, he had imparted in him a fury and rage that he did not previously have. That had been the Dark Lord's mistake when he went after Lily and it was his mistake here.
As a burning hatred for Dumbledore began to rise in his blood and he began to think of how loudly he would shout at the portrait of Dumbledore that sat above his desk in the headmaster's study, Snape turned on the spot and was gone in a swish of his cloak.