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When I was summoned to the Shrieking Shack by the Dark Lord, I knew that it was over. Have I been discovered? My betrayal unearthed, and now he wishes to punish me? I shiver slightly but cover it up by tossing my head back as I take down yet another Death Eater with a shot from behind, which I know that none would have seen. Flipping my robes, forever the Half-Blood Prince, I stalk from the Great Hall.

I am terrified. It is an emotion… that I am unfamiliar with. Grief? Yes, too much of that in my short, miserable existence, but fear? It is an entirely new feeling. Well… except with Lily.

My dear Lily… I am so, so sorry.

Memories flash through my mind. When I first saw her. The first time I met her. The day we became friends. Going to Hogwarts, watching her join Gryffindor with that James Potter. And then… that's where things started to go downhill. I befriended the wrong people. I got into the Dark Arts. And… I called her a Mudblood.

I shake myself out of my stupor and breathe deeply before stunning the Whomping Willow and entering the secret passage that will take me to the Shrieking Shack. I will need all my wits about me for this encounter.

I stand before the Dark Lord as he sits at a table, his long, white fingers toying with his wand. The Elder Wand, I quickly realize. We stand in silence until I clear my throat to say, "My Lord, their resistance is crumbling…"

"—and it is doing so without your help," says the Dark Lord, in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there… almost."

"Let me find the boy," I say, almost desperately, though I do not allow any hint of emotion to enter my voice. "Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord." In fact, this is actually true. I hear a scuffle behind me and I know instinctively who it is that's hiding there. "Please."

I stride past the gap, hoping that the Dark Lord won't notice the pair of haunting, piercing green eyes that are so much like hers.

As I cross, I see Nagini, swirling and coiling like a serpent underwater, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floats unsupported in mid-air. The Dark Lord stands up and all thoughts of Nagini immediately vanish.

"I have a problem, Severus," he says softly. My blood turns cold.

"My Lord?" I ask, the slightest waver detectable in my voice.

The Dark Lord raises the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"

Confused, I look to him blankly. "My – my Lord? I do not understand. You – you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

The knot in my chest begins to ease up. Perhaps my betrayal has not been discovered after all! I am careful to keep my face impassive but slightly bemused.

"No," he says. "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's all those years ago." His tone is musing, calm… but I can feel the rage beginning to swirl deep inside of him. I want to shrink away, but instead I stand tall and proud, yet humble before the Dark Lord as a good Death Eater should be.

"No difference," he says again, and starts to move slowly around the room. "I have thought long and hard, Severus… do you know why I have called you back from the battle?" His tone remains measured, though I can sense the rising anger beneath it as he fights to block out his emotions.

"No, my Lord," I say carefully, "but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter," I say, keeping my eyes fixated on Nagini in her floating sphere.

"You sound like Lucius," he says dismissively. "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 struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."

"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself—"

"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear," he interjects smoothly. "Capture Potter. Kill his friends – the more, the better – but do not kill him."

Then he turns to face me. "But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter," he says, softly. And with the Dark Lord, soft is dangerous. "You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable." This is getting worse by the minute.

"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But –" I add quickly, "let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can –"

"I have told you, no!" he snaps, impatiently. His cloak swishes across the floor like a snake. "My concert at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"

I am confused. Of course, he means to kill the boy, but why… "My Lord," I start slowly, "there can be o question, surely –"

"– but there is a question, Severus. There is." His voice quiets again, and I can see the Dark Lord struggling to regain control over himself. He stops, and turns back towards me. He slides the Elder Wand through his fingers and stares at me, unblinking. Like a snake.

"Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"

How am I expected to respond? I clear my throat. "I – I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"Can't you? My wand of yew 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' wand shattered upon meeting Potter's." I feel his rage building, about to explode.

"I – I have no explanation, my Lord," I say, my eyes still on Nagini.

"I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master." Does this mean… "I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."

And now I look at Voldemort, my head snapping up with fury, though I know my face remains like a death mask. Marble white and oh so still.

Because I know now what's coming.

"My Lord – let me go to the boy –"

"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, "wondering, wondering… why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner…" I feel my resignation, for here comes the decision of my fate, "and I think I have the answer."

I do not trust myself to reply.

"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." I still attempt to protest, feebly, my voice barely a murmur.

"My Lord –"

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus," he cuts me off again, "because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus," his voice drops again, "the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." There it is.

"My Lord!" I protest feebly, my wand raising of its own accord, out of pure instinct, as I know that it will not protect me now.

This is the end.

I am so, so sorry.

"It cannot be any other way," the Dark Lord says. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

He swipes the wand through the air, but it does nothing to me. Confused, for a second I actually believe that I will be spared. Until I see it.

The snake's cage is rolling through the air towards me, and before I even have time to yell, the bubble encases me head to shoulder, and Voldemort hisses to the snake. I don't know what he says, but the meaning is evident.

As fangs enter my neck, I feel… pain, beyond anything I have ever felt before. There is a terrible, heart-wrenching scream in the distance, or maybe it's nearby, echoing within the narrow confines of Nagini's bubble, and dimly I realize that it's tearing itself from my throat. My eyes widen as I fail to push the cage off of myself, and I crash to the floor. My vision blurs, but I can just make out the shape of the Dark Lord looming over me.

"I regret it," he says coldly, and turns away, devoid of remorse or sadness.

I fall sideways to the floor as he leaves the cabin pulling the snake off of me. I am prepared to close my eyes and let go, to leaves this miserable existence behind, to… to see Lily again.

Lily, I tried.

But then I see him.

Those haunting emerald eyes stare down at me, and before I know what I'm doing, I grab the front of his robes and pull him close. The actions bring on another, worse bout of pain. I open my mouth to try and speak, but a rasping, gurgling sound emerges from my mouth.

"Take… it… Take… it…" I try again, and this time I know he hears me.

Granger conjures a small flask and presses it into Harry's hands. I let the memories go.

I know it's time to let go… so I let go.

One last effort.

"Look… at… me…"

The green eyes find black.

The green slowly fades away, to nothing but a ghost.

I'm sorry.