Chapter 2
"You will indeed meet that sticky end Potter, Ha!"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Ah, Potter you're even more of a pathetic aim then I imagined you."
"Harry! We've got to find Hermione!"
"I… I know Ron!"
"Why Potter, I do believe that I can aid you in that endeavour." Malfoy suddenly turned his wand away from the pair of them. "Avada Kedavra!"
"NO!"
"HERMIONE!"
They saw their friend collapse against Draco who had attempted, too late, to pull her into his hiding spot. He had hopelessness in his eyes as he looked down on the lifeless form of the girl he had bullied for seven years. He looked up to his father's livid face with terror and dropped Hermione like a ragdoll before racing away.
Surprisingly Ron was the first to snap out of the frozen state the three battling men were in. He let out an all mighty cry of pain and senseless lava fury. He flung his wand arm into action, and before Malfoy senior knew what was happening he was flung against a wall hard. He was badly dazed, but it didn't stop there. Ron had gone completely mad as he magically thrust the Death Eater from wall to wall…wordlessly. After a moment of shock, Harry threw himself on Ron.
"RON! STOP… Stop! Malfoy's out, he's OUT!"
Ron's face was screwed up tightly and it looked as if he couldn't hear his friend; unstoppable tears poured down his cheeks as he intensified his actions.
"Ron! STOP!" Harry yanked Ron towards Hermione and they both dragged her into the nook Draco had hid in. Ron was in hysterics, cradling her head in his lap. "Not Hermione, not Hermione, no, no, no, not Hermione…"
Harry felt sick. He looked down with fractured eyes feeling as if part of himself had died. "Ron… Ron… we have to rejoin the battle."
"no, no, no…"
"Ron!" Harry dry sobbed, "We have to go!" He grabbed Ron by the sleeve, and they both morphed off into the hundreds of bodies battling in the halls of Hogwarts.
Hermione lay there cold, and for all the world looking quite dead. Every now and again, however, her eyelid would twitch or her lip would tremble, evidencing her non-responsive flicker of life. Up to date she would be the second person in known history to survive the killing curse.
The battle waged on for what seemed like an eternity. Draco had been hiding under the trick stair off the first floor landing for some time, crying mostly. He would spare an occasional glance at her. He found morbid pleasure in pretending the mudblood was peacefully sleeping while the world came crashing down around them. And then, he would chasten himself for being ridiculous before crying again.
He looked up for what seemed like the hundredth time at the 'sleeping' Granger. His brows furrowed. He could have sworn her arm had been angled differently before. He shrugged, thinking someone had probably tripped on her. A few moments passed and his eyes became glassy as he looked at her. Then his brows furrowed again. Her clothed bosom was shifting in an odd sort of way. Then suddenly, just from the center of her chest, a piercing sky-blue light shot out in all directions: as if it was finally escaping a trapped place. Draco snapped his eyes shut to prevent being blinded. He was in utter shock. Though he never paid as much attention in school as the girl he was staring at, he was reasonably educated and yet he had never heard of such a belated reflex to death.
He opened his eyes again fully expecting to see Granger slumped and unmoving; what he saw knocked the wind out of him. She looked dazed as she leaned back against her elbows, taking in the sight of the viscous battle. He was absolutely transfixed as he watched her shake herself. Suddenly she jerked, as if she had remembered something vital. She leaped up and scoured the ground for her wand. Finding it, she was on the move racing away towards the great oak doors. Draco snapped out of his stupor and raced after her. Perhaps he saw wrong. Perhaps it hadn't hit her square on, engulfing her in green light as he had distinctly witnessed. He didn't know why really, but feuds put aside, following her felt like the only sane thing to do.
They flew across the grounds which had been scattered with comrades of both sides, visible in the moonlight. Draco tried not to look at them and just ran as fast as he could after Granger, who was surprisingly fast. He finally caught her up at the gates. He saw what she was about to do and, without thinking, grabbed her by the arm just as she disapparated.
When the dizzying effects of sidelong apparation died away, Draco looked about and was perplexed to find himself in the Shrieking Shack…why would she abandon the battle to come here of all places?
"Malfoy! What are you doing!"
"I…" he snapped, automatically going to retort something scathing, but stopped up short. "I don't know Granger. How the bloody hell didn't you die? I saw you! You collapsed in my arms…" he had an outraged look on his face; not at the fact that she survived but at the fact that he didn't understand the laws by which she had.
She was entirely put out. "Sod off Malfoy! I've got a spy to save!" And she was rushing off again.
He rolled his eyes and followed, passed the stairs and into the dark vestibules to the left. Draco had thought that he could see nothing more that night which could shake his center, but he was sadly mistaken. The sight of his godfather sprawled at odd angles on the ground, unconscious but still uselessly clutching at his bleeding throat was just one straw too many for the dragon's back. His knees buckled and his arms dropped bonelessly to his sides as he looked on, completely shell shocked. The little hope he had left vanished painfully from his chest as if a spell had been thrown at him. What hope could there be in the world when everything he knew was so backwards this horrifying night. If Severus Snape, the strongest and smartest man he'd ever known, had fallen victim to this madness, what hope could there possibly be…
Hermione ran to Snape's side and grasped one of his seemingly lifeless arms. "Malfoy! Malfoy if you can pull yourself together, you could actually help!" He looked up to her and mindlessly moved closer. "Come on! Grab his other arm, we're going to apparate to St. Mungo's. QUICKLY!"
He did as she said, and again felt the dizzying effects of sidelong apparation. He landed unceremoniously on his arse in the middle of the reception area in the crowded wizard hospital. Distantly he heard Hermione arguing with healer personnel.
"I DON'T BLOODY CARE IF YOU'RE FULL IN THE EMERGENCY WARD! THIS MAN NEEDS IMMEDIATE ATTENTION, AND IF HE DOESN'T GET IT I WILL BLAST THE BLOODY WARD TO BITS SO THERE'LL BE ROOM…"
"Calm down miss…"
"NO! I will NOT calm down! There's a bloody war on at Hogwarts and he's needed NOW!"
The healer opened his mouth to retort but didn't get the chance as Hermione wasted no more precious time on him. She ran up the hall to the Creature-Induced Injuries ward to locate Pie.
She found him breaking his back trying to tend all the patients who had been attacked by werewolves in the last month. It was quickly escalating to a non-viral epidemic.
"PIE! HEALER PIE!" she screamed as security wizards were attempting to detain her.
He furrowed his brows and called them off. "Miss Granger? What are you doing here?"
"Pie! I need the antidote to that snake bite Mr. Weasley suffered from. There's a man bleeding to death on the reception floor, and no-one seems to want to help!"
He got a deadly serious look to his normally jovial face. "Let's get it then!" Hermione had to jog to keep up with his swift strides. He went straight to his personal storage cupboard and withdrew the necessary potions - the antidote, a blood-replenishing potion, and a stamina enhancer. They found themselves at Snape's side within a matter of moments and, to the horror of his policy-compulsive superiors, Pie fed Snape what he needed right then and there. He quickly worked them in conjunction with what Snape would consider foolish wand-waving and sat back awaiting the result. The floor, as well as the two teens and Pie, were all covered in blood in the middle of dozens of people waiting to see if they had caught the damage in time.
Slowly Snape's eyes fluttered, the action drawing relieved sighs from everyone present…except hospital managers.
"Healer Pie! A word." a pudgy little witch with heavily made up eyes, whom reminded Hermione suspiciously of Dolores Umbridge, said.
Hermione put a hand on Pie's arm. "Thank you…" she mouthed as he turned to go face the consequences of his actions.
Meanwhile Malfoy was stunned speechless as he helped his godfather to his feet. Snape was not entirely healed by any means; that would take weeks, perhaps months, of rest. But he was strong enough to carry on at least, and he needed to get to Potter. Coughing up some slight amount of blood, he tried his scratchy voice. "Granger! Get me to Hogwarts…Now!"
The same little pudgy lady manager, turned and spoke. "That patient needs to be established a room. Healer Trent, see him to the patient waiting area until he's found one."
All it took to make Healer Trent shrink was the glare the Headmaster of Hogwarts threw him which plainly stated, 'Come near me and you will regret it.'
"Sir, you're unwell. Let's get you to a comfortable waiting chair…"
Hermione scoffed and, before Snape could bite his head off, gathered Malfoy's hand and supported Snape with her shoulder - in the blink of an eye they were all gone. Healer Trent had leaped forward to try and stop them, but Hermione was too quick for him.
"Healer Trent, a word."
He winced at her tone and went to receive his tongue lashing as well.
They all appeared outside the gates and to the devastation that was Hogwarts.
"Draco! Retrieve my wand." Snape commanded, brooking no argument.
Malfoy was so dazed by the night's events, he was only glad to have a coherent course of action. He mindlessly nodded and apparated away to the Shrieking Shack.
Severus was still coughing up blood, and seemed to have a bad case of the chills. Hermione was needed under his arm as a support at least until Malfoy's return.
"Sir, shouldn't I get Harry?"
"No." he coughed again. "The Dark Lord thinks me dead. I am unable to present my best defences at the moment. My message holds precedent to anything else…it would not do for him to find me here. We must get to the safety of the Castle."
Malfoy popped back with the requested wand in hand.
"It took you long enough Malfoy!"
"Silence! Come."
Hermione resented being treated as his student once again, but held her tongue and helped with his left while Malfoy took up his right. They trudged up the grounds as quickly and quietly as they could, avoiding any signs of the living and the struggling. This meant that they had to take the rout that had already been ravaged by battle. Malfoy had to cover his mouth to keep from retching because Snape had not permitted him to use an encasing charm - they could not afford to attract attention. They had made it to the castle in a matter of fifteen minutes, which was quite remarkable since Snape was not at his best.
Hermione led them to a quiet classroom off the side corridors towards the Hufflepuff common room. "I'll go find Harry! Draco! If I find out you left Professor Snape's side, (she shook her fists in his face) so help me… "
"Yes, yes Granger. Just go on!" He answered with rolling eyes. After all Snape was his godfather. If anyone was protective, it should be him.
She departed in a flash of abundant curls flying about untamed. She ran, passing grim duels and avoiding streaking curses. It all crumbled around her: her school, her home, her world. She could scarcely feel her legs anymore, but neither did she feel the pain of it when all she could comprehend was this terrible night. The anxiety in her bosom was a physical weight and she heaved ever greater breaths as she feared she would not find Harry or Ron. At times when she'd encountered a familiar face, she'd ask as she was pelting passed if they'd seen Harry. She received nothing but negatives.
Finally when it seemed as if her efforts were futile and she would never find them, she heard a bone chilling voice reverberate through herself and her world.
"You have fought," said the high cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste."
Hermione blanched at the sheer audacity and blatant falseness of his claims as she listened on.
"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately."
All duels around Hermione ceased and she glared at the confused faces of many of the Death Eaters.
"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead, with dignity. Treat your injured."
Satisfied smiles spread over said faces at the amendment, and they began slinking off towards swift exits before the resistance could blast any of them: since they now had orders not to harm anyone.
When Voldemort began speaking directly to Harry: threatening mass butchery of everyone, if he did not hand himself over like a sacrificial lamb, Hermione almost shrieked her hatred for the despot. She had to find Harry NOW. Before he went marching off to his death without thought or worse yet - without Snape's message. She tore out in search of the makeshift medical wards springing up here and there in the Great Hall and Grounds, praying that he would follow his heart of gold and check on the wounded first.
She burst into relieved tears when she saw both him and Ron helping to drag the deceased to respectful lines of sobbing friends and family. Her tears turned bleak when she saw a mass of red heads bowed in mourning. No! None of the Weasleys could have been hit. Not Them! Her legs seared in protest but she ran on, not caring if they fell off, only if she could reach her surrogate family all the sooner. Her heart was pounding, her crying eyes widening, her arms extended in agony, as she ran for all she was worth. She had to know. She didn't want to see whom it was. Her heart was screaming for her to close her eyes, to shield herself from such devastating discovery. But Gods, she had to know! She flung the astonished forms of Harry and Ron aside as she thrust herself forward to see who it was, sobbing openly by now. Gods!
What she saw both relieved her and broke her heart into little pieces. Fred and George were both delicately arranging the lifeless form of their fallen comrade, Katie Bell.
"Oh George! I'm so sorry…" Hermione wailed and threw her arms around him (knowing somehow which was him) with all the emotion she truly felt for his pain. She knew he had been in love with the witty Quidditch Chaser since fourth year and they both cried into each other's shoulders as George returned the hug with strength.
Then she felt an annoying tug at her sleeve. When she let go of George, she was assaulted by a pair of over zealous friends. She gasped as they jumped her, also laden with profuse tears. It was quite a pathetic scene really. They acted as if she was dead…well, in all fairness, she sort of had been.
She extricated herself long enough to speak, "Harry! Harry, you've got to come quick." She judged it better not to say why. He'd probably try to prevent a meeting or worse, kill Snape. Pushing Ron's touchy-feely hand away from her face, the poor fellow was in absolute awe that he hadn't suffered the same loss as his brother had, she grabbed Harry and took off running yet again. The three reunited friends jogged all the way back to the Great Hall and down the Hufflepuff corridor, to the abandoned classroom.
Just outside she turned and faced them. "Now you two have to give me your word you'll hear him out before you go berserk and try to kill him."
"Hermione…"
"Your word!"
"Hermione, how are you even here?" Ron asked, almost starting the crying jag up again.
"Ron, there's no time for that now. You've got to hear this Harry! You've got to give him the floor, and hear him out."
"But who Hermione?"
"I can't tell you! Your word, Now!"
"Alright."
They walked in and both young men stiffened immediately. What they saw was their childhood nemesis, Draco Malfoy, helping Dumbledore's murderer, Severus Snape, to sit up properly. Harry's wand came flying out despite the word he'd forgotten he gave, and the only way Hermione even had time to throw herself in the way was because he didn't know who he wanted to curse first.
"Hermione! GET OUT OF THE WAY!"
"No Harry! You'll hear him out like you promised and that's final!"
"Potter. Before you burst that big head of yours with fury, or do something as equally stupid as far as this battle is concerned," (Harry glared daggers) "There is something you ought to know."
"And what's that!…"
"Silence!" Weak as he was, Snape achieved his best terrifying voice with distinction. Even Hermione automatically jumped and fell still, as did her friends. Malfoy glared at them as he moved aside and crossed his arms.
Harry was fuming, but looked as if he would comply.
"Draco, the flask please." Malfoy retrieved the rather artistic flask he'd conjured for his godfather while waiting for Hermione to return. Snape withdrew his wand and began extricating the recognizing bluish substance, neither liquid nor gas, from his temples and filling the silver snake handled container. When it was full to the brim, he tried to put it in the unwilling hand of the boy who was using his painfully familiar green eyes to burn a hole of hate in him. "Take them Potter! They explain everything you need to know to defeat the Dark Lord. Put your pride aside for once in your young grim life, and view them! Do this before you do anything else."
Harry looked untrusting and hateful for a moment, but finally took them.
Snape's eyes softened fractionally. He continued with the same stern tone however, "Remember Potter, life isn't fair. But this mustn't persuade you to weakness. Not in this affair." Snape's eyes now held something close to concern, even doubt.
"Will that be all." Harry's voice was sarcastic and cruel.
Snape gave him one last piercing look, making sure not to overlook the almond shaped green orbs of his one and only love, before turning to Hermione. "See that he knows the contents of that flask well." he said, pointing a rigid finger towards the flask. "And Miss Granger, utilize the Slytherin tendencies I know you possess to aid him with what he must do."
She looked confident and defiant. "His Gryffindor tendencies will not allow him to do anything less than his duty, Sir!" And with that, the three turned to take their leave, Hermione giving her old Potions Master one last and somewhat nostalgic glance. She had saved his life because he had saved hers, and she felt almost cold and uncaring leaving him in Draco's incapable hands.
Surprisingly, he returned the look in his own way, putting aside sternness and disdain as he gave her a brow raise in farewell.
She almost let a few tears escape. She was sure that would be the last time she ever saw him again. He was far too weak to do anything but rest, and if she knew anything about Severus Snape she knew that would be the last thing he would do in the middle of a battle.
They walked to the Headmaster's office to look at the memories, Hogwarts granting them entry easily without the password. They all gathered round Dumbledore's old pensieve, and taking deep breaths, leaped in together. It all came crashing down on them. The whole truth. The reasons for every hidden secret that Harry had thought he got through when Sirius died. He realized the full import of his parents, of Snape, of himself. He was a horcrux. He was always intended to die. He was the ultimate sacrifice, never meant to live to see freedom. His mother had died for the wrong cause - in vain for him, and he was sickened by that thought. His chest was heaving as he lay on the floor of the office, contemplating his death. He was terrified. He looked to his friends who were both looking at him in silent outrage.
"Don't go through with it Harry."
"There has to be another way! Every problem has a solution." It came out before she knew she had said it, but she knew it wasn't true. Dumbledore had said, 'The boy must die.' Even Snape had refused to accept it at first. She knew it was down to her now to convince Ron to accept it, and help Harry face his death. She closed her eyes tight and swallowed an asphyxiating breath. She had felt her heart break too many times tonight. "Harry…"
But she'd forgotten her own accurate words on Harry's nobility. He rose in one fluid motion and was the picture of Gryffindor courage in all its shining glory. Without a word, he slowly exited the passageway with calm surety.
"Harry?" Ron was not yet ready to resign his best friend to such a fate. He leaped up to follow but was stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Hermione with brimming tears in her eyes as she shook her head.
"We have to join the fight Ron. Harry knows what to do. We have to make sure Nagini is killed."
"But Hermione!"
"No Ron." She gave him a sympathetic look. "Let's go."
As soon as the three most annoying teens he'd ever had the misfortune of encountering left the room, Snape charged Draco with the task of helping him sacrifice himself further. "Help me stand Draco." There was no room for argument.
He now had accomplished his mission in delivering the message, he could no longer spy of course, and for all intents and purposes was expendable. He spoke of weak people, how they constantly expressed how bitterly unfair their lives had been and how they openly flaunted their sacrifices. He had sacrificed ridiculously in his time and probably could boast the unfairest life of all. Yet, he remained silent, never showing any of his pain, never claiming anything, never even defending himself from false accusation. He did what he must do - what had to be done, with a sharp tongue and dark sarcasm as his only indulgence. In the grander picture, he knew he was now expendable and would tonight give his last sacrifice. He would give his life for the cause. In truth, he didn't want to live past his duties paid. He gave the closest thing to a smile he had expressed in twenty years when he thought that, perhaps…only perhaps, he might see Lilly again. On shaky legs he stood tall and proud. Turning to Draco, he tried his best to do his duty as godfather for the last time. "Draco. I want you to get yourself to the Room of Requirement and stay there. Your best chance is to do nothing. If the Light wins, they will think you a civilian; and if instead the Dark should be victorious, you can play the faithful Death Eater. Think of a place you can hide from all danger. The room will provide."
"Where are you going?"
In the place of answering he gave his godson his characteristic scowl, before exiting the room in a hailstorm of billowing robes.
Draco felt something he had never felt before: lost. He cursed himself for wishing he knew where the insufferable know-it-all was as he made his way to the Room of Requirement, stealthily of course.
It was horrible. A nightmarish panorama stretched out before him. As a Death Eater he had seen many battles, but this was by far the grandest affair he'd ever witnessed. Hundreds of bodies slayed, hundreds more injured and lying about. Many were mere children: the children he had spent half his life teaching and protecting. He may have enjoyed scaring them to tears, but he did not enjoy watching them die. It sickened him, and he fought harder because of it. It needed to stop! Whether the war was won or lost, the faster the battle concluded the faster their pain would cease. With a snarl, he flung himself further into action with abandon. The halls of Hogwarts were a many-colored haze of moving wands and translucent curses. He had little strength left, but he managed to stay in the fight. He had already taken down Dolohov and Macnair. Lords only knew how he had kept his speed as his legs trembled beneath him, but he had done it. His occlumency skills were good for more than hiding emotional feelings: he found that he had a talent for sustaining ungodly amounts of physical stress and shock while thrusting his body towards the goal it was required to reach.
In all this madness, he found himself wondering where Hermione had got to. He had given up thinking of her as Miss Granger: who wouldn't have after the little episode they shared earlier that night. It already seemed like an age ago when they had sat in the dark confines of their shared consciousness and spoken of Regulus. Regulus. The dear foolish boy genius who had saved his life even beyond death. Though he loathed to admit it, Regulus's disappearance had been one of the main events of his early life which had hardened him to the man he was now - cold and bitter dungeon bat of Hogwarts. Even now, he was fond of his old friend and wished he could see him again…one of the many reasons he would welcome death. He only wished to locate the insufferable know-it-all first. He looked about with his maddeningly blurring vision in hopes that he would see her wild curls flashing by, but he didn't. He cursed under his breath and continued dueling the unequal ninnies Voldemort called Death Eaters. He smirked, even half dead and with failing eyesight he could best them.
Much time had passed and he was beginning to worry. Had the brainless Potter given himself over to death yet? Had Hermione and that buffoon Weasley finished off Nagini?
Then he saw it. The procession of Death Eaters with the Dark Lord in the lead. He saw Hagrid carrying the lifeless body of the boy…Lily's son. He grimaced in both relief and repulsion. At least part of it had been carried out as planned. But Nagini. There she was, yet living. He looked around the masses of stilled fighters starring at the spectacle in awe. Ah, there. He finally saw Hermione and the Weasley boy. They were standing near the front of the school, side by side with Longbottom. All he could do for the moment was conceal his presence. He had survived thus far: it would not do to be discovered now, while there was still one shred of doubt about the execution of the plan. He would see that snake dead; that plausibly being the last thing he ever did. Perhaps he could send a sound Sectumsempra her way. The irony of finishing off Voldemort's final defense with the first offensive spell he'd created in his teens under the influence of his young Death Eater friends brought malicious satisfaction to his eyes. He whipped out his wand in preparation, but was forestalled by Voldemort's sudden cat-play with Longbottom. He felt a jolt in his stomach at the thought of Longbottom being burnt alive by the sorting hat under Voldemort's wand. He abruptly surged from the shadows while brandishing his wand towards the boy who had begun screaming.
Voldemort was so gobsmacked by the appearance of the man he thought he'd murdered that his eyes only widened in shock as he watched Severus fling the hat from Longbottom's head with a graceful swish and then turn towards Nagini with purpose. Before he could process what was happening, two things happened in quick succession: Nagini reared to strike at Snape while the sword of Gryffindor was flung at her heart. It pierced her deep and true as she came down on the potions master.
At this point Circe truly abandoned Hogwarts as all hell broke loose. There was an all mighty cry as Voldemort lamented the fate of his horcrux familiar. Everyone took this as a sign that hope was not lost and combat erupted once more. Neville rose on shaky legs after having executed the most physically taxing hurl he had ever tried with something as heavy as a silver ruby plated sword and immediately rejoined the fight. Voldemort had no time to verify if Nagini had been successful in killing Snape as he was carried away in the torrent of action…he assumed so, due to the spy's sudden lack of appearance.
Hermione was thrown to the ground as the mass of bodies about her rushed forward. It was all she could do not to be trampled. She was frantically rushing about on all fours avoiding the deadly and oblivious stampede of fighters. In her haze she was unexpectedly brought face to face with Snape. He was lying on his back, under the massive beast, apparently unconscious.
"Professor Snape…" She tried shaking him. In a fit of panic she grabbed her wand and performed a diagnostic spell. She sighed in relief…he was only knocked cold from the impact. Her heart had stopped when she saw him rush forward before Voldemort in what looked like an unreal expression of black billowing courage.
"Renervate."
Snape's eyes fluttered and saw the contorted vision of Herimione's chin hovering concerned above him. He groaned and asked their current status.
"Neville's killed Nagini…"
"Granger, I am rather painfully aware of that."
"Oh! Sorry…" She quickly levitated the serpent's body off of him and helped him take cover under a nearby tree.
After a somewhat repulsive fit of crimson coughing, Snape was again making his way to the castle, with Hermione's help.
They drug themselves towards the tattered sounds of scuffling and arrived in the Great Hall just in time to see Neville hit Bellatrix Lestrange with a powerful purple blast. When the air cleared around her, all that was left was her rather painful looking pointed stilettos.
Voldemort screamed in rage at losing his last disciple and made a beeline for Harry. Hermione blanched at seeing him…alive. She made to move to his side but was stopped by Snape unceremoniously grabbing her arm and hauling her to a safe sideline.
"He is the last horcrux Miss Granger. We must let them battle." Snape had a meaningful look in his eye that spoke his intention of letting Harry meet his demise before finally killing the despot.
"It doesn't make sense Snape! He had already died, I saw his body. Do you think he can't be killed by Voldemort?"
Snape looked ponderous for a moment. "He was unable in the initial attempt. Perhaps their connection is blocking such hostility between two 'blood-brothers.'"
They both turned as Harry and Voldemort held a hate laced discussion for all to hear… they could do nothing at the moment but wait.
"Snape was Dumbledore's man…he always was. He loved my mother."
Voldemort looked disgusted as he shrugged and caught sight of his treacherous spy from the side of his eye. "Well perhaps I ought to remedy that wrong before we go any further…" He snarled and suddenly snapped his wand in Snape's direction. "Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione saw the green light traveling in slow motion towards her loyal professor, and, without thinking of consequences or outcomes, leaped in front of the snarky spy who didn't deserve to die. All went black.
Light slowly seeped into the blackness that was still clutching to her senses with a painfully strong grip. Painful? Was the afterlife supposed to be painful? Was she perhaps in limbo? Did she not make it to heaven? Her parents had been overpoweringly religious during the eleven years before she left to Hogwarts, and had given her a healthy respect for small sins and large alike. She certainly had stopped minding her piety after throwing in her lot with the boys. She now didn't mind all that much cursing aloud, for instance. And she had most certainly told an untruth here and there since her first year away from Christianity. She had even deceived both her dear parents by sending them away with faux identities. She wasn't exactly sure which category of sin that would fall under, but she was fairly certain it was heavy on her cosmic list of misdeeds.
Ah, the hospital wing. How lovely to be at Hogwarts once again, even in her present state of sure purgatory… at least she would spend it in a place she loved.
"Hardly Miss Granger."
Was that Snape's voice? Oh that's rich: to be tormented in purgatory at Hogwarts under the strict tutelage of that taskmaster for centuries. She didn't care if he was savior of the cause, he was still a right git when it came to his tutelage. Wasn't it enough to be stuck in his head while they were on stasis together?
"Now, now Miss Granger. I do believe I deserve an apology for that slight on my authority. To be dreaded for centuries is a great insult. Or perhaps I should take it as a compliment on my reputation."
"What?"
"That's right Miss Granger…you are not dead. You have just spoken ill of the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, insulted your professor while in the presence of said professor, and showed a general display of sloppiness. I shall deduct twenty house points for this."
Oh of course. That would be what he would do. Deduct house points for reasons that don't exist and from a patient no less, just because she's Gryffindor.
"Touche Miss Granger."
"Oh God. Did I just say all that out loud?"
"Yes."
"Why are you being so indifferent about all this?"
"Because Miss Granger, I am in a humor to overlook your transgressions for the day. Be assured however, that I agree with you emphatically when you deem yourself unworthy of heaven. I'm sure you will spend a few lifetimes in purgatory when it all comes to an end. For now, you are to receive merely a few distasteful potions and well earned rest."
"Professor, what happened?"
There was a pause in which Snape thought over the previous day's events. "The Dark Lord is vanquished. Potter is alive. It seems that your friend had indeed died in the forest conflict with the Dark Lord. The despot killed his own horcrux, but Potter, very like the first incident, survived. When it came down to the end, it was the Elder Wand that finally killed it's pursuer. You see, it would not fire against it's rightful owner…Potter. As with the first attempt on Potter's life, it backfired; only this time, the Dark Lord had no more horcruxes to fall back on. He is dead."
"But, Sir, why am I alive?"
Snape's brow rose in a slow ironic arc. "It seems, Miss Granger, that you and I share a…connection."
"A connection?"
"As distasteful as I am sure you find such a connection, it is the only explanation. Somehow you have entered into the magical agreement I hold with Regulus, and you thoroughly exploited it yesterday…when you shamefully abandon the battle in my stead. Weary as I was, I was forced to aid with the after effects of the battle, in the place of experiencing the peaceful stasis I would have been under had you let the Dark Lord fire at me." He gave her a stern look.
She suddenly noticed that, though Snape still wore his voluminous jet black teaching robes, he also carried the magical residue which normally would reek off a person riddled with healing spells. Apparently Madam Pomfrey didn't let him get away with his own potions this time. She looked slightly embarrassed before continuing her questions. "How could something like this happen?"
He contemplated her seriously. "You would have had to have some form of meeting with either mine or Regulus's magic at some point in time. Since he died shortly before your birth, I can only assume that I used much force when I helped heal you after the Ministry of Magic incident. The curse Dolohov sent you had to first be deciphered before it could be dealt with."
Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. It didn't make sense. Medi-Witches and Wizards go through hundreds of patients year in and year out without such connections being formed. "Sir, what if I do somehow have a connection with Regulus's magic?"
Snape only raised his brow in question.
"Well, I did have that locket round my neck for months. And…I sort of…fooled around with it."
Snape got a deadly serious look to his face. "What do you mean?" he asked sharply.
She cringed slightly at his oppressive concern before continuing. "While Harry and Ron were out looking for food one day as I stayed back at camp, I started trying to…pick at it. I read that such cursed artefacts tend to deteriorate after time if stored a certain way, and well, Kreacher wasn't all to gentle with it. If I could work away at it, I figured it might begin 'leaking' life, and destroy itself. I definitely earned it a few surface flaws. Sir, when I was in my second year, I read a lot about magical theory. There was this french wizard named Jovlan De'Velange that speculated on what he called an 'Ensuring Bind.' It was supposed to 'draw' on the binder's magic, regardless of whether the binder was present or not, alive or dead, to ensure that a task be completed if triggered by something. It could work in any number of ways. It could complete the task itself, give off magic to be used by someone triggering the event, or by any other means available. He was considered mad, and eventually was sent to the guillotine by opposing theorists for his beliefs in many outlandish concepts. What if he was right? If Regulus was as brilliant as you described, and was interested in spell creation, he would have surely studied on De'Velange's work. The 'Ensuring Bind' also sounds an awful lot like your 'Frateris Tutela' charm…" Hermione was getting into full swing with this theory and thus was speaking far too fast to agree with Snape's precise nature. He put a hand up to stop her rambling.
"De'Velange's work was absolutely fundamental in our experiments. The man was a genius, however, Regulus never spoke of 'finishing' his work. We used his theories as blue prints at times, but always explored our own endeavors."
"Yes but it would fit don't you see? If Regulus started perfecting this binding spell, he could have used it as a last attempt to help Kreacher destroy the locket. He knew he was going to die retrieving it, and had planned to entrust it to Kreacher. He must have doubted the elf's ability. This would be a backup plan. He could put the Ensuring Bind on the locket before he sent it off…then when Kreacher actually tried to destroy it, he would receive some of Regulus's essence to help him in his task. Regulus also wouldn't have had time to perfect it completely, only using it in the same way the both of you used the Frateris Tutela charm; instead of using it as De'Velange had theorized to ensure itself by trigger. He would have gone for passing on his own magic first, since that was what he knew he could accomplish.
Severus thought on this argument for a moment. It did make sense. Obviously Regulus hadn't been entirely forthcoming with him, hence his subsequent changing of sides and mysterious demise. If he had changed sides, he would have been quite leery of sharing all of his work with any other Death Eater, even his lab partner and friend. Hermione's annoyingly excited voice broke through his thoughts once again.
"But getting back to the locket… when I was knicking it about I made a particularly harsh gash on the left side. I felt a jolt of force pulse through my hand and travel through my body and saw a greenish hue transfuse from the gash for a split second. At the time I only thought it was the fragment of soul defending itself…"
Snape sat up straighter before answering, "That's quite as it feels when one casts the Frateris Tutela charm."
Hermione looked on with a fierceness in her eyes at the thought of solving the puzzle.
"This would mean Miss Granger that more than Regulus, yourself and I share this connection." At Hermione's questioning look he rolled his eyes. "Think Granger. Who else would have meddled with the locket, thus earning Regulus's magical essence?"
Hermione gasped in surprise, "Kreacher and Ron!"
"Mr. Weasley destroyed it then?" Snape seemed just a tad too surprised.
Hermione glared in defense of Ron's abilities and went on. "Yes. And Kreacher had been trying to destroy it for years."
"But perhaps did not succeed in hurting it as you had Miss Granger. We only know for certain that there are four members of this…unlikely group." Snape couldn't help being Snape by sneering at the thought of sharing such an intimate connection with two teenagers. He trusted Regulus, he may even have grown to trust Hermione, but he simply could not stomach the Weasel: and said so quite bluntly.
Hermione was outraged. "Ron destroyed the horcrux! Quite bravely! He didn't know what he would invoke by doing it: he was only thinking of the good of the magical world!"
Severus let his expressionless exterior drop just enough to rub his eyes in irritation at the female's obvious biases and heated defence of her future buea. "…hell hath no fury…" he muttered as he rose to take his leave. "Good day Hermione…"
That shut her up. She looked stunned at his use of her given name.
"I retract my point deduction. This shall be the one and only day in Hogwarts: a history that you are exempt from the consequences of your impertinences and unavoidable annoying qualities."
She shut her mouth and looked put out.
And for once in Hogwarts: a history Snape smiled. This caused Hermione's mouth to open wide again. He turned and gave a worthy execution of the most billowing robes Hermione had ever seen: so much so that she secretly thought he must have used magic to make them look like that.
Snape walked down the halls of the now battered and beaten halls of his home. He looked about and smirked as he headed for his Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's office. He relished the look that would surely appear on his old transfiguration teacher's face when he told her that he would not relinquish his Headmaster's status to it's rightful owner after all. He knew from the moment he became Headmaster, at Voldemort's hand, that it should have gone to the old pillar that was McGonigal, and secretly promised her that it would be so one day when she had confronted him after his reappearance. There had been many bitter words due to McGonigal's belief that Severus had murdered Albus, so he had made that small promise in the place of the confession of innocence he so wanted to make. When it came down to it, he thought he would not survive the war, so the small clause in his will that appointed her as his successor, was a just and easily granted good deed. Ah, but now, now things were different. He was alive, and he felt he deserved the elevated status after all that had passed. He was after all, a Slytherin : body and soul.
There was a spring in his step the likes of which he hadn't accomplished since his school days with Lily, as he entered the small and rigidly straight laced office.
Moments passed…then….suddenly an explosion was heard and reverberated throughout the castle. Horror stricken faces snapped up to see a Snape shaped hole in McGonagall's office door. Neville tentatively stepped closer to examine the damage, still holding the prize that was Gryffindor's sword close to his chest. He heard coughing coming from a corner and stumbled backward in a fright when he saw the terrifying potion's master crawl out of a wall. He looked as if he'd been through a hundred floos he was so dust covered.
"THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR FOR ENDANGERING YOUR SORRY ARSE LONGBOTTOM BY STEPPING TOWARD SUCH A SCENE WITHOUT FIRST ENGAGING THE ATTENTION OF ONE OF YOUR TEACHERS!"
Neville looked shocked as the Headmaster stormed off towards his own office. McGonagall stood in her doorway, holding a smoking wand, and looking every bit as scary as the first time she chased Snape through a wall with a wand.
Neville wisely departed before any more points could be deducted: McGonagall was in no mood.
Time rolled by, and though the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts was in quite a temper towards the Headmaster for quite a time, she eventually cooled her indignation at the pass over Severus had inflicted on her by not relinquishing his position as he should have. She understood his need to find something good in life and conceded with a warm heart to helping him as she would have always helped Albus…after a little house feud point butchery of course.
It was said for many generations to come that Headmaster Severus Snape, Potions Master, Death Eater, Order of the Phoenix spy, Murderer of Albus Dumbledore, War Hero, Order of Merlin first class and Spell Creations Expert was the fiercest, scariest, and 'best' Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen. After his true appointment to the position, when all necessity of war strategy were null and void, programs for the poor and disabled children of the magical community began flourishing. The standard of learning rose dramatically, as he ruled his students with an iron fist. He would only accept the best efforts from all parties of the school. For this, two things changed in the magical educational history of England: more higher education schools sprung up due to his 'quality of learning' regime, and those passing on to those higher educational programs were those who truly had the intellect to do so, not those who were able to pay enough galleons.
Though Scorpius Malfoy was quite intelligent and able to win many recommendations, his father Draco was not so lucky. He was not permitted to enter higher education because of his poor attention span, which was not tolerated in Snape's new world of talent opportunity.
Snape was looking for perfection, and was every bit as avid in his teaching endeavors as Albus was…despite his unnerving personality. So yes, he was renowned for his heart clenching, tear inducing, and hate inspiring ways…but he succeeded in a manner of speaking. He had changed the world, twice.
As for his affections, he had none…or so everyone thought. An intelligent and highly-sung war heroin by the name of Hermione Granger knew better. She saw him little in the years to come, only meeting eyes with him in passing at the train station, or the occasional ministerial meeting that occurred in honor of Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. Whenever he saw her, he always bowed his head in acknowledgement.
When her daughter arrived at Hogwarts, a skinny girl with wild untameable red curls, and large brown Granger eyes, he took special time to tutor her. She was, to her father's dismay, a Slytherin.
And when Rose Weasley was married to Scorpius Malfoy, Headmaster Snape was present.
So yes, though all thought him to be the dungeon dweller of Hogwarts lacking a heart, they were indeed wrong. He was the fiercest, scariest, and Best Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen. Albus Dumbledore's portrait teased him to no end on the title…
…The End…
Or it would have been, had the Weasley twins not decided to plague the educational system by becoming joint professors of Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was the first time in history there had ever been two professors for the same class at Hogwarts. And absolutely no one knew how Severus Snape ever agreed to hire them…many thought it was done at wand point…
Special Thanks to *Ardenna Ouvrard* for introducing me to the argument that Neville should have got to finish off Bellatrix.