Chapter 21: The Sacking of Severus Snape

"Fight back!
You coward don't turn your back on me this time
I knew it from the start your heart is black inside
Half-Blood Prince it's time to pay for your every sin
To get away you'll have to kill me like you killed him,

Like you killed him…"

~ "Lightning-Struck Tower" by the Ministry of Magic

(The Ministry of Magic is my favorite Wizard rock band, though the reason is partially because they have several songs focused on Severus Snape: "Lightning-Struck Tower", "Snape vs. Snape", and "The Bravest Man I Ever Knew". I highly recommend looking up these songs if you're a Snape fan like me!)

After finding Minerva in the hallways and swiftly explaining, Civia had sprinted though the corridors, her godmother beside her, with Harry and Luna invisibly behind them.

But upon hearing the slightest noise ahead, the two professors halted, wands raised.

"Who's there?" demanded Civia sharply.

"It is I," came the low reply as a black-cloaked figure stepped out from behind a suit of armor.

Her heart leapt to her throat. It was Snape.

Suddenly, Civia realized that in her haste to avoid his presence, she had neglected to see the changes in his appearance.

His hair looked greasy as ever, hanging in curtains around his now, much thinner face. His obsidian eyes looked dead, completely apathetic, as if having given up living. The sparkle she had seen in his eyes so many months ago was gone. He was thinner, slowly wasting away, though he tried to hide it through his thick layers of clothing, she knew. But he still held his ebony wood wand, ready.

His dead black eyes swept over Minerva first, but his gaze lingered on his, and she saw something change in his stance.

"Where are the Carrows?" he asked quietly, eyes on her.

"Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus," Minerva told him, her voice practically at absolute zero, as it always was now whenever the new Headmaster was concerned.

Severus' eyes flicked to the air around the two women, as if knowing Harry was there. "I was under the impression," he replied, "that Alecto had apprehended an intruder."

"Really," asked Minerva, probably not trusting Civia to speak to the man who'd betrayed her most deeply, she expected, "What gave you that impression?"

He moved his left arm in a slightly flexing motion. The Dark Mark.

"Oh, but naturally," the Transfiguration teacher said, "You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication. I forgot."

He did not appear to be listening, eyes concentrated on Civia suspiciously. "I was not aware it was your night to patrol the corridors, Civia," he sneered.

"You've an objection?" she asked tightly.

"Only wondering what has brought you out of bed at this hour."

"Hard as it is to sleep with Death Eaters running and lingering everywhere, I had more trouble sleeping than the norm," she replied with ease, "Though I thought I heard a disturbance."

"Really?" he asked doubtfully, "All seems calm." Pausing, he was slowly moving closer as he stared into her eyes, obsidian boring into amethyst, giving her the impression of prey being pinned before the predator issued the killing stroke. "Have you seen your nephew, because if you have—"

Civia did not let him finish. All the anger and hate, hurt and heartbreak, all the emotion she had bottled up and had festered burst forth as she whipped her wand in a motion so fast, it may have been thought to have been imagined by another. The curse would have knocked anyone else unconscious, though she knew he would deflect it.

True enough, the Headmaster did, throwing a Shield Charm up with surprising speed, or it would have been surprising to anyone who knew Severus less than she did.

Flames roared from her hands, pouring like water from a hose, circling her and her opponent, keeping him from Minerva, Harry, and Luna. She saw, from her peripheral vision, Minerva back away unwillingly, obviously wishing to join.

A stunning spell shot at her, but she parried it. A flicker of the fiery circle around them separated itself and shot at Severus. He transfigured it midair into a great black serpent. Blasting it to smoke, it vanished before Civia.

The flames blocked their duel from the others, and the roar of the blaze blocked out any words—shouts or otherwise.

"You vile man!" she screamed, "Betrayer! Traitor! Deserter! Turncoat! Backstabber!" With every word, another spell was shot at him.

"Civia!" he suddenly yelled, desperate against her barrage. "Please!"

"Why should I, Severus?" she yelled vehemently, "You said it yourself! You tricked me into helping you then seduced me with sweet nothings whispered into my ear! Why should I show you any mercy? Because you killed Albus, the first person to trust you implicitly? Because you broke my heart and soul inside not only that day in June, but also every day since? Because you cut of George Weasley's ear? Because you took our only haven and changed it into hell? Because you allow the students who sought sanctuary here be tortured daily?

"Because you so openly scorn my past love for you? Because you took everything I had and more, then threw it away, shattering everything that means anything to me—my only family, my students, my home, my shreds of confidence, my freedom, my heart, my self?"

"Civia!" he screamed, not sending one spell at her, his wandwork purely in defense.

"Why?" she demanded coldly, her barrage pausing as her wand rested a hair's breadth from his black heart.

Part of her—the part that was his, and remained so—ached and throbbed painfully. It broke her heart to see him—the strong, private, loving man she had known—begging for mercy. But her rage-for so long pent up and now finally released-drowned out any merciful impulses.

Severus looked indecisive, torn between fleeing and speaking to her.

But instead of replying or fleeing, he closed the space between them, bending his head down to her level and pressing his lips to hers.

She fought for a moment, trying to shove him away, but he grabbed her wrists gently, pulling her against him.

In the time that had passed—nearly a year—since this had last happened, she had forgotten what this was like, really kissing him.

It was everything those ridiculously cheesy romance novels dreamed of, but so much more. He was insistent, determined, but his lips were gentle, caressing her own, soft and warm. The embrace he held her in was warm and felt inevitably like home after a long time away.

Then, she gave up trying to fight it and gave in, leaning into his embrace, kissing back, pulling him closer. Their tongues mingled, dancing together in the reunion.

When he broke the kiss, he looked to her face somberly, his gentle, endlessly black eyes boring into her own wisteria eyes.

"I love you," he murmured, resting his chin on her head gently, her errant inky curls tickling his nose.

They were still surrounded by the flames she had conjured, hiding them from the others' views, and vice versa.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice steadily growing louder in a sob. "How? How can a Death Eater love me, the eldest Potter left, Harry Potter's aunt, major member of the Order of the Phoenix? How can you after everything you've done—betraying us, killing Albus, cutting off George's ear, forcing my nephew into hiding like a fugitive, taking over our home—our last sanctuary—and turning it into hell, mocking me and our relationship, allowing students to be tortured, and torturing me yourself! How can you? How dare you?"

Civia tore herself from his grasp, shoving him away.

"Civia, please—"

"NO!" she screamed, despair and betrayal supersaturating her voice, as she threw spell after spell at him.

In a flash, the roaring inferno encircling them converged to a single point—where Snape stood.

He barely managed to block the flames in time, stumbling backwards. With a flick of her hand, the smoke changed into gleaming daggers that flew towards him.

Vaguely, from behind her, she distinctly heard Filius shout, "Civia!"

Snape barely managed to block by forcing a suit of armor in front of him, the daggers sinking into the metal with echoing, metallic clangs.

"No!" squeaked Filius Flitwick, rushing forwards. "You'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

His spell hit the suit of armor, which came to life with a loud clatter. Civia was still as she watched the Potions Master struggle free, sending it flying backwards to Filius and Minerva and Pomona, who were at her side.

He fled into a classroom, with Civia at his heels.

"Don't you dare flee, coward!" she screamed.

But he continued at the large window, smashing through the glass, leaving a humorously Snape-shaped hole in it. He took flight into the air, but paused, looking back at her, regret and pain in his eyes, before he vanished into the night, taking with him a piece of her heart.

"COWARD!" she screeched, which changed into a sob.

With a start, Civia realized that she'd been crying, with tear stains all down her face and cheeks.

"What happened?" asked Minerva as she, their colleagues, Harry, and Luna followed into the classroom.

"He jumped," she whispered tearfully, eyes following the moving object in the sky.

"You mean he's dead?" asked Harry, half hoping and half incredulous, rushing to the window, ignoring Filius and Pomona's yells of shock at his appearance out of thin air.

"No," Minerva replied grimly, "Unlike Dumbledore, he still had his wand."

"Civia, are you alright?" asked Luna softly, resting a hand on the woman's arm.

"Yes," she said quietly, aware of all eyes on her. "Quite."

Harry did not believe it. "Did he hurt you?" he asked worriedly, though she could see the fury in his eyes.

"No," she reassured him softly, wiping away her tears. But Harry was not comforted. "Has he…has he hurt you at all this year?"

Once more, she shook her head. "No, not in the sense you mean." Swallowing the lump in her throat, she softly, brokenly explained, "I loved him, damn it!" A sob escaped before she continued. "I fell in love him last year, when I first came. He was a different person it seemed—I thought he truly did care for me…" Her voice suddenly became bitter, "But I guess I was just another stupid, meaningless little whore to him…"

"Civia!" exclaimed Minerva in shock. "I'm sure he didn't—"

"He did," she replied flatly. "He said so himself, bragging about 'seducing' me with 'sweet words of nothing', whispered into my ear at night. You've heard him gloat about it to the blasted Carrow swine."

A cold, steely light lit her eyes, her hand gripping her wand tighter. "Don't kill him," she ordered emotionlessly. "I want to do it myself. Spread the word, too. I will be the one to kill him, if it is the last thing to do. I will show him the consequences of his deception and cruelty."

As they all left, Civia lingered, pausing to stare heartbrokenly out the shattered window, but then sighed and followed the others.