Seven Shadows
A Harry Potter Fanfiction by Arkitekton
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Then again, don't we all wish he was our own?
Summary: Determined to get answers, Harry Potter saves the traitor Headmaster Snape from Nagini's bite. Without seeing the crucial memories or learning about his fate beforehand, how will Harry's early confrontation alter the events in the Deathly Hallows? AU.
A/N: This is my second attempt at fanfiction. Even I'm not sure where this story is going, so if you have any ideas, recommendations, critique, and/or comments, please leave a review! Thank you so much for reading!
Chapter I | About to Die
"I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."
Severus felt the blood drain from his face. And so it begins.
Before he could react, the bubble around Nagini—the delicate separation between his life and death—swelled until he was encased within.
The beginning of the end.
How ironic it was, that the cause of his death was none other than the symbol of his own house?
For all he'd sacrificed, hoping to right his wrongs—his debt to James Potter, his loyalty to Lily Evans, his vow to protect her son—every bit now seemed so small.
He didn't even get a chance to share the memories with Potter, memories that would turn the tide of this war. The boy would never learn how to truly vanquish the Dark Lord. Severus would die alone in this forsaken shack, leaving behind nothing but broken promises and unfinished tasks.
He drew his wand in spite of himself. He wouldn't be spared this time, no… Severus had long accepted that his life would be shorter than most, yet he hadn't expected it would end so soon.
Perhaps the boy had been right, for once. Perhaps he was a coward. He'd known it would only be a matter of time before the Dark Lord could find an excuse to get rid of him.
And that time had come at last.
Severus blinked slowly, resignedly, waiting for the blow. His gaze drifted away from the snake—and he swore Lily's brilliant green eyes were there in the windows, watching over him.
As long as those eyes were the last thing he'd see in this life, then maybe… maybe death wouldn't be so bad after all.
The Dark Lord smiled almost apologetically.
I'm sorry, Lily.
Time seemed to slow down as Nagini closed in, her entire length poised to strike, fangs exposed, glistening with venom, aiming straight for the jugular—
"NO!" Harry exclaimed in Parseltongue.
The Boy-Who-Lived, accompanied by Ron and Hermione, had been crouching underneath the window of the Shrieking Shack, eavesdropping on the top two Most-Hated-Bastards-of-All-Time. When they discovered that Nagini was also with them—the last Horcrux, so tantalisingly close—Harry was convinced that it was their only chance to kill the blasted creature.
Maybe it was too good to be true, but he didn't think there was going to be a better opportunity than this: to put an end to Voldemort once and for all.
Then, there was the issue with Snape. Of course Harry knew that he was a Death Eater, and a traitor, and an altogether, well-roundedly evil man. Of course he knew that he'd betrayed Dumbledore that unforgettable night. Snape was now the master of the Elder Wand; if Voldemort took it from Snape, then Voldemort would be its new master, and… well, life was hard enough already, thank you very much.
But Harry also knew that some things just didn't add up. Why hadn't Snape counterattacked when he'd fought him after he killed Dumbledore—and again, during the duel with Professor McGonagall?
Above all, why had Dumbledore never once questioned Snape's loyalty?
The more Harry had thought about it, the more he'd realised that nothing really made sense. Questions bounced around in his mind like chocolate frogs and multiplied into even more questions, all of which demanding answers.
And, as much as he hated him, Harry knew that dead men simply could not give answers.
It was that moment when he'd heard Voldemort issue the command to kill. Without thinking, Harry had shouted in Parseltongue and now started towards the entrance, only to be yanked back down.
"What are you thinking, mate?" Ron hissed. "Are you out of your mind?"
"I thought we said it was a trap!" Hermione added desperately.
"I know," whispered Harry. He grasped each of their shoulders tightly as if they all that was left grounding him to this world. "But something isn't right. That's why I'm going in myself—and you two stay out here, and if… if something happens—"
Hermione paled, realisation dawning on her face. Ron shook his head furiously. "I thought we were in this together—"
"Harry Potter!"
The three of them froze in pure terror.
"I know you're back there," Voldemort called, sending chills down Harry's spine. "Don't be shy."
Harry took a shaky breath and met his friends' eyes, pleading for them to listen, to understand what needed to be done. "Look," he said, "I can't let either of you die because of me. I have to end this."
Before he could have second thoughts, Harry hurried towards the door, when he heard footsteps pounding behind him.
In one fluid movement, Harry pivoted and drew his wand.
"Har—"
"Protego Perpetuus!"
Ron and Hermione ploughed straight into his shield and hit the ground hard.
After a second of disbelief, they both recovered and began pounding against the barrier, the air rippling after each hit.
"Let—us—through, damn it!"
"Finite!" Hermione cried, to no avail. His shielding spells had always been remarkably strong. "Don't do this to us!"
Harry swallowed and forced himself to turn away.
As much as it pained him, it was the right thing to do. Whatever happened tonight… Well, they had the rest of their lives to live, after all. They could move on. They could survive without him. But for now, taking on Voldemort was something Harry needed to do on his own. It had always been that way.
He squared his shoulders and tore into the Shrieking Shack, leaving the desperate pleas of his friends behind him.
And froze.
At the centre of the room, Voldemort had his wand pointed directly at Snape, who was backed up against the wall. A sort of giant, silvery bubble had trapped him inside with Nagini. The snake hovered just centimetres away from Snape's head, her beady eyes now fixated on Harry.
Harry blinked. Then blinked again. At the moment, he couldn't decide which surprised him more: the fact that he'd just spared the life of a murderer, or the fact that he was able to override Voldemort's command with his own?
Pushing the thought aside, he glanced quickly at Snape and was filled with a hatred that boiled deep in his gut. But he didn't expect to see Snape's usually-fathomless eyes widened as if he was… surprised?
Surprise indeed, you arse.
Voldemort turned in slow menace, a gleeful expression spreading over his face. "You've arrived sooner than I'd expected," he drawled. He moved away from Snape and began to circle around Harry with long, confident steps. "Just now, your... headmaster, here, was so adamant about fetching you. I planned to wait a little longer to see how long your cowardice would keep you running, but it looks like today is my lucky day."
Harry gulped, fighting to maintain his bravado. "Your days are over, Voldemort!"
"My, such courage!" Voldemort laughed, caressing the wand in his hand. "I have to commend you for destroying most of my Horcruxes, Harry. That must not have been an easy feat. And yet, after all your little Gryffindor heroics, I am still victorious. I am unbeatable with the Elder Wand."
Harry tried to stall while he thought furiously about his next course of action. "But you just said Snape was its master, not you."
"Oh. Of course." Voldemort frowned uncharacteristically and glanced sideways. "Nagini, why haven't you killed him yet?"
"Don't!"
Nagini's head swivelled back and forth between the two of them.
Voldemort bared his teeth and raised his wand. "You dare to give orders to my own pet? Nagini, kill! KILL!"
The snake opened her jaws and reared her head back—
"STOP!" Harry shouted again. "I command you to—to go back to sleep or something!"
"What are you doing, boy?!" Snape exclaimed from inside the bubble, his voice muffled. Harry ignored him.
Nagini turned for the third time and flicked out her tongue. "For Salazar's sssake, do make up your mind," she hissed. "I'm getting hungry, you know."
Harry and Voldemort stared at her incredulously.
What the...?
After a moment of utter confusion, Voldemort focused his attention back on Harry, his crimson eyes narrowing. "She should only be at my command..." He tapped the Elder Wand against his chin, then shook his head, the ugly grin quickly returning to his face. "Well, no matter. One way or another, this wand will be mine at last."
Harry tried to ignore the way his pulse quickened and his hands trembled. He could not let Voldemort destroy everything and everyone he loved. And if it meant risking his own life for his friends—for the world—then so be it.
Voldemort aimed the Elder Wand at Harry. "Any last words, Harry Potter?"
Harry took a deep breath. I am about to die.
He felt something twitch in his pocket. His eyes widened as the air shimmered and coalesced around him, and all of the sudden—there, floating by his side, were Remus, Sirius, Mum, and Dad. In their tender eyes, Harry saw their pride and love… and he was afraid that, if he blinked, they would all disappear.
He swallowed, fighting back tears. Voldemort looked at him curiously, as though he was unable to see what was happening. You'll... you'll stay with me?
Always.
With newfound strength, Harry returned Voldemort's gaze and raised his own wand, pointing straight at the heart. "These words won't be my last, Tom!"
"We'll see about that. Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
A blinding light filled the Shrieking Shack as the two spells collided with each other. Windows shattered, floorboards shook, and at the moment of impact, the Elder Wand flew out of Voldemort's hands, his expression growing in disbelief… the green jet rebounding off red, coming back at Voldemort at twice the speed—and Harry, with the deftness of the youngest Seeker of the century, snatched the wand out of the air. The surroundings crackled with raw energy, a deafening bang! as the Killing Curse found its new target, and Voldemort—Tom Riddle—crumpled to the ground.
A shivering silence rang through the atmosphere. Harry stood frozen in place, above the rubble and dirt and shards of glass, gaping at Voldemort's unmoving form and the last Hallow now thrumming in his hands.
Voldemort's… dead? But how…?
Harry's mind raced. The wand must've never been... Snape's after all. It had been Harry's. He was the master of the Elder Wand. That's why he was still alive. And if it hadn't been Snape's, then Snape never actually conquered it from Dumbledore, but what about that night on the Astronomy Tower—
A shuffling sound came from behind. "What in Merlin's name—"
Harry whirled around and fired both wands on instinct. He'd forgotten there was one more person to deal with.
Snape ducked as the bolts whizzed past his head and exploded into the wall behind him. Harry gnashed his teeth together and strode quickly towards the man, keeping the Elder Wand trained steadily on his head. He could feel the wand's power surging through the very tips of his fingers, dark and unstoppable, and it vibrated as though begging to destroy.
"You reckless fool," Snape hissed, finally raising his own wand. "Restrain yourself!"
Harry shot another bolt of energy. "Shut your mouth, Death Eater!"Snape slashed diagonally and deflected the curse, but did not attack in return. "Can't you see?" Harry spat. "It's over! Your master is dead, and I could kill you right here, right now if I wanted to, and no one is going to save your sorry arse because you've already betrayed every person that had ever given a damn about you!"
Something in his face changed, and Harry ploughed on in vicious pleasure.
"Oh yes, hurts doesn't it, Snivellus? Being at the mercy of James Potter's son? I should have just let Nagini deal with you, for everything you've done. But first, you're going to give me some answers whether you want to or—"
"Potter, behind you!"
Harry couldn't help but look over his shoulder.
Alarmingly, the shadows had begun to gather around Voldemort's body. Harry's feet refused to move, and he watched in fascinated horror as ghostly tendrils curled outwards from the centre of Voldemort's chest, merging into what appeared to be an enormous, shadowy cobra. Thick, dark smoke rolled out of its mouth.
"Did you really think you could win that easily?"
An onslaught of pain, worse than anything Harry had experienced before, exploded inside his skull. His forehead felt like it was being torn to shreds and gouged with a hot iron. The room grew hazy and dark, and the last things he heard were his screams and a mad cackling pierce the air.