Year 7: Harry Potter and My Payment (or: How I Settled My Debt)
The universe never gives you more than you can handle. Unless, of course, it kills you.
I'm getting too old for this. Taking orders from Albus' portrait like the man were still here. Living so many half-truths I have no idea which way is up anymore. My nightmares and my waking hours seem so similar nowadays, sometimes I forget if I've even slept. I may have never made a Horcrux, but my soul feels torn enough to do so; little pieces fluttering in the wind, hanging on by threads, ready to be cut at any time. Telling the Dark Lord when Potter will be moved; hoping the decoys will be enough to save them all; knowing it probably won't; watching Burbage die, powerless to stop it; missing my target and hitting the Weasley-Potter instead; my hood flying off so they see who it was; seeing Moody fall, dead; I am not a spiritual man, but sometimes I find myself praying that once I fall asleep, I will never wake up.
I do not particularly enjoy playing Headmaster. Especially since I was responsible for the previous one's demise. I detest it even more because while I can now run the school as I think it should have been done ages ago, there is no longer any joy in it for me. I never would have thought I could ever say this, but I actually miss the classroom – students and all. Maybe not Longbottom.
Phineas tells me where they are, in the forest. I slip out of the castle and outside the grounds, sword at my side. I twist on the spot and disappear, popping quietly into the woods. I walk around until I see a frozen pond. Perfect. I wouldn't go in there in this weather if you paid me enough to retire. Maybe I'd jump in if you promised me it would kill me. Perfect for a Gryffindor. I break the ice and levitate the sword, resting it on the bottom. I repair the ice. I'll make sure he finds it. I head back to where I appeared. I know they are here, so I cast some simple counterspells and their protection disappears. As soon as Potter follows me, I'll put them back up so they'll be safe. I cast the Disillusionment Charm on myself and take a deep breath. My eyes prick when I see the doe appear from my wand. Just one more way I'm paying my debt to her, by doing this. And it will never be enough.
Things are not good. The Dark Lord is furious. They had Potter at the Manor and they let him get away – not just him, but Weasley, Granger, the goblin, and Ollivander. And that other girl. Maybe if I'd been there I could have gotten myself killed. But that would have been irresponsible. I still have work to do.
Potter did what? I am inwardly impressed. Perhaps he is not a total failure. Breaking into Gringott's is no small feat. I'm told he had help, but still. What did he need, I wonder? Curiosity killed the cat. I doubt mine will kill me. Pity.
My arm is burning; someone pressed the mark to summon him. Fuck. That means Potter's here in the castle. The Dark Lord thought he might come – I didn't think he'd be stupid enough to do it. There goes my being impressed. Of course, McGonagall won't tell me where he is. Now she's incensed. Have I mentioned how much I dearly love her? Right. Now she's setting inanimate objects on me. I decide the time is ripe for retirement. Good Lord, I hope Potter knows what he's doing.
I have been summoned. This is Not Good. I have no information for him, nothing to tell him. He knows this. Trust him to use the Shrieking Shack; brings back great memories. Yippie. My heart hammers in my chest. Lucius doesn't know what he wants, but it can't be good. Can't be worse than anything so far, I suppose.
Oh dear. Wrong wrong wrong. Much worse. I can't tell him I'm not the true master of the wand because then he'll know Albus' death was planned. And then he'll kill me. I can't accept it either, because he'll kill me. And I am not ready to die. I am fucked. Think fast think fast think fast. I ask if I can go bring him Potter because I know that I know that my death now will mean I have failed at my last and most important duty. If I can't get my information to Potter, this blasted thing may never end. Maybe this will be my final way to torture the old man – be derelict in my duty. But then my debt will not be paid, and I will never be at peace. But I have no choice. He has refused me twice. Funny, how I wished for death for so long and now I'm trying to evade it. Not because I don't want to die, but because I have unfinished business. Ironic. There is a slash and I expect to fall, except I don't. Instead, the snake moves toward me. Oh fuck, this is going to really, really suck. Can I not even die in peace? Really? Is that too much to ask? I am trying not to feel the pain, the blood gushing out of my neck. I faintly notice that the Dark Lord has left. I hear something beside me.
Potter. Never in my life did I think I would be glad to see Harry Potter. But I am. I let the memories flow out of me, urging him to take them. Five points to Gryffindor for Granger having the sense to conjure a flask. He gets what I need him to take. Now he will know. I can only hope he is strong enough for what he must do. Somehow, I know he will be. And now, my debt is paid. I can be at rest. I claim my prize, grabbing him and pulling him towards me.
"Look at me."
Her eyes are the last thing I see.
