Quietly Into the Night
Arista, Severus, and Drake slept all through the rest of that day and night and far into the afternoon of the next one, and thus they missed the second great Battle of Hogwarts. Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the school just before Voldemort himself arrived with the remainder of his army.
The bronze dragons, led by the incomparable Sardonyx, attacked the tail end of Voldemort's army before the Dark Lord knew what was happening, and destroyed a third of it. It was said later that you could have heard Voldemort's howl of rage all the way across the Atlantic at the unexpected guerilla attack. He was forced to retreat into the Forbidden Forest, where he lost more followers to the wrath of the centaurs and the acromantulas and other beasts, who were pledged to his destruction. He then moved onward to Hogsmeade, taking over the sleepy little village and making his new headquarters the Shrieking Shack.
He then sent a force to attack the school, led by Bellatrix, Dolores Umbridge, Pettigrew and his pet snake, Nagini. None of them ever returned.
They were caught by a roving patrol of Hogwarts defenders which included Kit, Flick, Neville, Ginny, and Hathaway. Much to the Death Eaters surprise, the five wizards did not run in fear, but stood their ground and fought them like true combat masters.
Neville took on Bellatrix, the murderous witch who had tortured his parents into insanity eighteen years before. "Today's the day you die, witch!" he snarled.
Bellatrix laughed at him. "Think so? You're pathetic, boy, just like your parents! But I had fun with them anyhow!" she cried, giggling madly.
"Have fun with this then, Bellatrix!" Neville shouted, then he cast Draco Inferio at her, and was rewarded with her horrified shriek just before her body caught fire and was consumed in an instant. "Hope you enjoyed that, you twisted thing!"
"Naughty, naughty, Mr. Longbottom," Umbridge scolded, shaking a reproving finger at Neville. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hurt a lady?"
"No, she didn't, Umbridge, because she spent my childhood in a padded room," Neville snapped, whirling to face this new foe.
"Pity," Umbridge spat. "Because now you'll learn that lesson the hard way." She pointed her wand at Neville. "Crucio!"
Neville fell to the ground, yelling in agony.
Umbridge smiled nastily.
"That'll be enough out of you, you miserable old hag!" Kit growled, coming up behind the smirking witch on cat's feet. "You're not High Inquisitor anymore, Umbridge, and we're not your students, to punish however you please."
"Are you not, Mr. Ambrosius?" she purred, jerking about to face him. "I serve a new master now, one who has finally given me the respect and the power that I deserve."
"You've sold your soul to the devil, Umbridge," Kit said. "Hope it's warm in hell." His wand appeared in his hand as if by magic, and before Umbridge could react he had slammed her with the Withering Death curse, which was one Flick had taught him.
Withering Death was similar to the Mummy Curse, but its victim died a bit more slowly, aging at a spectacular rate, until she shriveled up and died.
Kit looked faintly sick afterwards, but he wasn't given much time to dwell on the fact that he'd caused Umbridge's death, because Nagini struck at him from behind.
"Excelsio major!" came a cry from the side, and Kit found himself enveloped in a bubble of magical force.
Nagini's fangs smashed into it, dripping with venom, but she could not penetrate the wall of force and bounced off it, hissing in fury and shaking her massive head.
"Yo, Medusa's sister!" Flick called, throwing a concussive force globe at the snake. "How 'bout picking on someone your own size?"
The small golden globe struck the ground right in front of the massive snake, blowing a hole in the ground and partially in Nagini as well.
The injured reptile tried to crawl away, but Flick sprang in front of her, blocking her way. "Now, Scaly Baby, you can't be leaving the party too early. Dance with me awhile, pretty poison."
Nagini coiled to strike, but she was several seconds slower due to the gaping wounds in her side, and Flick avoided her strike. He vaulted right over her head, landing on her back. "Back home in Texas, we call this riding the bullsnake. And I just happen to be an expert at it," he said, drawing his sword and stabbing down with it three times. His first cut severed the snake's spinal cord. His second took her in the eye, as she was partially turned towards him, and his third chopped off her head.
"And that's how we deal with rattlers in Texas," he said, grimacing at the blood all over his uniform. Then he hopped off the snake's body, looking about for his next opponent.
"Flick, quit fooling around with that reptile and help me," Ginny called, having been backed into a corner by two necromancers.
"On my way, babe!" Flick said, springing to her rescue. "Hey, ugly, the lady ain't interested," he growled, seizing the necromancer by the back of his robes and spinning him around. Then he punched the dark wizard in the face so hard he was thrown several feet into the air and into a tree. "Now don't bother her anymore, got me?"
The Death Eater did not answer, for he was dead.
Ginny finished off her own enemy, then looked at Flick and said, "I can't believe I just did that."
Flick smiled at her. "I can. You were trained by one of the best, weren't you?"
Slowly, Ginny nodded. "Yeah, and what he taught me just saved my life. Guess I'm going to have to thank him, one of these days."
"You do that," Flick nodded in approval. "For now, let's finish our sector." And he led them around the western perimeter of the castle again.
Pettigrew, the coward, quickly shifted into his rat form and scurried through the castle unseen, as per his lord's instructions. He was to get close to Harry Potter and kill him. But he never got the chance. For he was discovered by the two cats, Mrs. Norris and Comfrey. Comfrey sensed immediately that he was something dark and dangerous, and stalked him, inviting her companion to join in. The two felines double-teamed Pettigrew, chasing the panicked sorcerer along the corridors until he lost all sense of direction, and then Mrs. Norris herded him into a trap, where Comfrey waited with claws and teeth, invisible. Pettigrew would have been able to avoid the attack by shifting back to his human shape, but he never saw it coming.
The cat, unbelievably swift due to her fairy cat ancestry, sprang upon him and broke his neck with a single bite. She shook her head in disgust and proceeded to groom herself afterwards, saying to Mrs. Norris with a twitch of her whiskers, Nasty thing, he left an awful taste in my mouth. But at least he won't be bothering Arista or Sev again, wicked creature.
Or my Argus, purred Mrs. Norris. A job well done, Comfrey.
Thus passed Peter Pettigrew, unmourned, the ignominious victim of a cat's game of stalk and hide.
Unknown to Flick, Voldemort's pet snake had housed one of the last remaining Horcruxes, and with her destruction died another piece of the Dark Lord's soul.
The final Horcrux, which resided in Harry Potter, was destroyed the next afternoon, when Harry met Voldemort and sacrificed himself to destroy the last Horcrux. He was later resurrected by the power of the Deathly Hallows, a trio of magical items that enabled their user to conquer death once. Thus Harry became the Boy Who Lived Twice, and fulfilled the prophecy set forth by Trelawney so long ago, that he would indeed be Voldemort's doom.
With the destruction of the last Horcrux, Voldemort was now vulnerable to a true death, and Harry gave him one, using Sectumsempra. He cast it properly this time, nonverbally, blocking Voldemort's mind probe with Occlumency just as Snape had taught him. The Dark Lord was caught totally off guard and died swiftly. A fitting death for one such as he, and not one he would ever return from.
It was a day that would live forever in Hogwarts history, the day the Dark Lord was defeated once and for all. But despite the triumph of good over evil, sorrow followed on the heels of victory.
Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard of the age, was dying. Over the summer he had destroyed one of the Horcruxes, set in a family ring of Tom Riddle's, but in so doing he had set in motion a deadly curse, one for which there was no counterspell. It was one that ate away at both the body and the magic within it, and was irreversible.
Dumbledore had known he was dying, he had gone to Severus first to see if his Potions Master could come up with a way to slow the curse for a time. Severus had given him a potion that stoppered death, but it lasted only a year at most.
All the time Dumbledore had been with Harry and his friends, helping them find the Horcruxes, he had been slowly failing, a little more each day, his body weakening and his magic fading.
Until he could no longer hide the symptoms and took to his bed, the black rot creeping over his arm and down his shoulder. When it reached his heart he would die.
Severus, Drake, and Arista awakened sometime in the early evening, returning to the castle along with Fireflash and Topaz, who were still a bit miffed at missing all the action. Until Sardonyx consoled the two dragons by taking them on a scouting mission, searching for any remaining Death Eaters hiding out near the forest or the castle grounds.
Meanwhile the three wizards entered the castle to find the students and faculty in a state of shock, for Dumbledore had just revealed to Minerva that he was dying and requested she tell the students.
"They have the right to know, and it would ease my mind greatly," he said, and Minerva could not refuse him.
No sooner had Arista crossed the threshold of the entrance hall, then Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed up to her.
"Arista! Thank God we found you," cried Hermione.
"You've got to heal Dumbledore!" panted Ron, his red hair sticking out every which way.
"He says he's dying, but you can save him, Arista!" Harry pleaded. "You can heal anyone."
Arista opened her mouth to reply, wanting to know what was wrong with the Headmaster, but her father cut her off.
"She can't heal the Headmaster, Potter. The curse he absorbed is irreversible."
"But sir!" protested Harry. "She healed the Longbottoms, and that was supposed to be impossible. So why can't she heal Professor Dumbledore?"
"I'm sorry, but this is one instance when Arista's healing talent won't do any good," Snape said heavily. "Albus knew that before he returned this year, when he came to me and requested a potion to halt his own death for a time."
"At least let me try, Dad," Arista argued. "You don't know for sure until I examine him."
Professor Snape looked doubtful. "You've only just come back from being half-dead yourself, Arista. Do you think it's wise to use your magic this soon?"
"I feel fine, Dad. Perfectly healthy and my magic's back up to full strength too. Citrine said I'm out of danger."
"Please, Professor Snape!" cried Hermione. "You never know, Arista might be able to pull off another miracle."
"Go ahead," Severus sighed reluctantly. "You will anyhow, even if I forbade you, so I won't even try. But don't say I didn't warn you."
"Okay, Dad," his daughter said, giving him a wry smile. Then they followed Harry, Hermione, and Ron to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey was doing her best to make the Headmaster's remaining hours as comfortable as possible.
"Hello, ma'am," Arista greeted her. "What's the diagnosis?"
Poppy spun around so fast she nearly fell, one hand going to her heart. "Merlin save me! Arista? Is that really you, child?"
"Uh-huh. I'm too stubborn to die, don't you know that?" she said, coming forward to hug her teacher, who was weeping softly.
"I tried . . .but my talent wasn't enough . . .I can't believe you're actually here, walking and talking . . ."
"I had a little help from a dragonhealer and a mermaid," Arista told her, sending her comforting feelings of reassurance to ease the guilt the medi-witch still felt. "Lucky for me. Now, let me see what I can do for Professor Dumbledore." She turned to face Dumbledore, who was resting quietly in the hospital bed, in a light doze.
Poppy stood aside, not even bothering to protest, knowing that the girl would have to discover the truth for herself.
Arista laid her hand on Dumbledore's good arm, allowing her healing sense to diagnose the state of his body and the nature of the curse he was suffering. What she found horrified her. Her father had been right, the old wizard was indeed on borrowed time.
The curse had spread throughout Dumbledore's body, infecting every cell in his body with its insidious poison. It was like the worst forms of cancer, and it had been active too long for her to free him of it. Even if she did manage to cancel the curse, rendering it dormant, his body was too weak to fight off disease or infection, for his immune system had been compromised too badly. A cold would cause his death a surely as a virus.
At best she could delay the inevitable a mere week longer, but she could not prevent his death. Good God, I'd have to rebuild him from the ground up, and even then the curse could awaken and destroy all that I've done. Dad was right, blast it. This time, not even my talent can fix him. This isn't like mending broken bones or organs, this is like my trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon.
Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked at her. "Hello, Arista. I thought I might find you here, child." His eyes met hers unwaveringly, and she saw his death in them.
"Professor, I can try if you want me to," she began, trying to deny the inevitable.
"No, child. Don't waste your talent on me. I've known for a long time now that death awaited me. He and I are old friends, you might say. Very old friends."
Arista swallowed hard, unable to speak. Words were not necessary, however. Dumbledore understood that he was beyond even her great gift.
"Why aren't you doing anything?" Harry cried.
"Because there is nothing she can do, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "It is my time."
"No! Fix him, Arista! You can do it if anyone can."
"I would, but the curse is too widespread . . .I'd have to rebuild him from the ground up, and even then . . .it'd be no good . . ."
"What are you saying?" Ron whispered, his face tight with grief. "That there's no hope at all? None?"
Arista nodded sadly. "I'm sorry. But this is one time when my magic can't heal the damage that's been done. The curse can't be cancelled, and it'll destroy whatever I repair as quickly as I can mend it. There's nothing I can do."
"I don't believe it!" Harry insisted. "You're the damn miracle Healer, Snape, now Heal him, for Godsake."
Arista stared at him, tears glittering on her lashes. "D'you think I would let him die, if there was any chance I could save him, Harry? But this time is different. Everything is breaking down, he's like a tree infested with wood rot and the best I can do is make him comfortable. I wish it were otherwise . . .you don't know how much I wish that, Harry . . ." She reached out to touch him, trying to ease his grief with her empathy.
But he drew away from her as if she were poisonous. "What good are you then?" he spat.
Arista flinched as if she'd been struck, then she turned and bolted from the room, unable to deal with the accusation in Harry's eyes, which mirrored her own feelings.
"You conceited little jackass!" Drake cried, feeling Arista's hurt as if it were his own. His temper ignited. He lunged for the other boy, grabbing him and slamming him up against the wall. "How dare you talk to her like that? I ought beat you senseless, Potter!"
"Mr. Lockwood!" Poppy cried. "Put him down, I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in my infirmary. Show some respect, both of you!"
Drake released Harry, looking ashamed of himself. "Sorry. But next time watch your mouth, okay?"
Harry rubbed his throat, it was red from where his collar had cut into his neck. "I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have said that. But I was hoping . . ."
"Arista's only human, not a goddess, Potter," Severus cut in, giving Harry a very severe frown. "I know you tend to overlook that little fact when it comes to her healing talent, but the fact remains that not even magic can cure everything."
"What about the bronze dragons? Maybe they could do something." Harry said, wincing at his teacher's glare.
But Dumbledore shook his head. "I asked them already, Harry my boy. Their Healer, Citrine, told me much the same thing as Arista. This was a long time coming. I knew before the year began that I would not live to see the end of it. Nothing comes without sacrifice, as you well know. I knew when I began to search for the Horcruxes that death would be the price. It is one I pay willingly." He patted the boy on the shoulder. "Don't mourn me, Harry, for I go to a far better place than I have ever been before. A place of dreams . . ."
" . . .where the ones you love await you on the far shore," Severus finished gently.
"Ah, yes, Severus, you would know best," Albus said, giving the Potions Master a smile. "I will not walk alone into the night, will I?"
"No, Albus. There will be a guide waiting on the starry road for you, my friend. The way is not long and it is always summer there and those that have gone before greet you and you need never fear suffering or sorrow again in that blessed realm."
"Good. That was what I thought."
Hermione was sobbing into Ron's shoulder, and Ron was looking as if he was about to start bawling too.
"There now, Hermione," Albus said, coughing. "No need for tears, child. I am so weary . . .so very tired . . .my body is telling me that it needs to rest now, it has lived a very long life, far longer than I ever expected . . ." he grimaced as a spasm of pain shot through him.
"Drake, fetch Arista," Severus ordered. "She can make his last moments peaceful."
Drake rose immediately and went to find Arista. He didn't have to go far, for she was huddled on the bench just down the hall, crying into a handkerchief. "Hey," he said, seating himself beside her and putting an arm about her. "Potter's an idiot. Nobody expects you to perform miracles."
Arista didn't respond for a moment. Then she said, "But I expect it of myself. I thought there was nothing I couldn't heal. After all, I'm the Girl Who Healed. Fireflash, my dad, the Longbottoms . . .I healed all of them, so why not Dumbledore, right? I was proud, Drake, too proud. I was used to having my own way when it came to my patients. Poppy always warned me that someday there would come a time when I'd have to surrender to death, but I always thought she was mistaken. She wasn't."
"Nobody's perfect, Arista. Not me, or you, not even your dad. Or Dumbledore either. My dad said once after he'd lost a dog we were treating that the hardest part of his job wasn't putting an animal down, it was admitting that he couldn't save it in the first place and then making the merciful choice afterwards."
"He was right. Time I stopped feeling sorry for myself," she declared briskly. "One thing I know I can do is make his last hours free of pain, and let him go quietly into the night, with dignity." She rose to her feet, wiping her face with the handkerchief.
"How did you know that was why I came out here?" Drake muttered.
"I'm your soulmate, that's how. You can't really have secrets from me, you know."
"I do now. Come on, he didn't look so good when I left."
They returned to Dumbledore's bedside.
"Arista, I'm sorry," Harry began, but she waved him to silence.
"It's okay. Grief makes you say things you don't mean," she said. Then she looked at Dumbledore. "I can't cure you, sir, but I can let you relax and enjoy what time you have left. May I?"
"Please do."
Arista laid her hands on him, and the white glow spread from her fingers, covering the dying man with a white radiance.
When it faded, Albus sighed in relief. "Thank you, Arista. I feel like my old self again, so to speak. Will someone fetch me some parchment and ink, please? I need to leave some last minute instructions and such."
All of them jumped to do his bidding, much to his amusement.
Harry came back first, however, and Albus took the quill and parchment he handed him and began to write quickly.
Ron beckoned Arista off to the side. "How long?"
"Five hours is all I could give him. After that he'll go to sleep . . .and then . . ."
"That soon?"
"He's been fighting this for a long time now, Ron. His body's just not up to it anymore, you heard him," Hermione reminded him gently.
Dumbledore finished writing, then beckoned Snape over to him. "I have . . . a request to make of you, Severus."
"Anything," Severus said quickly, blinking hard.
"You too, old friend?" Dumbledore said softly. "Death is the last great adventure, you know."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I won't miss you."
"Really, Severus? Miss my little lectures, my crazy quests, my prying into your private thoughts?"
"Maybe not that so much, Albus," he admitted. "What did you want to ask me?"
Albus held up the paper. "This is an official appointment, effective upon my death. It is a Headmaster's prerogative to choose his successor, if he is of sound mind on the eve of his retirement, which I am. I have signed it here and witnessed it as well," he indicated Poppy's signature next to his own.
Snape gave the paper a cursory glance. "Are you asking for my support of your choice, Albus? You ought to know that I will uphold your decision, I trust your judgement."
Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, Severus. For I've named you as my successor. When I pass, you Severus Snape, shall be Hogwarts' new Headmaster."
Snape looked as if Dumbledore had just slammed his head into the wall. "Oh, good God, Albus. You can't be serious. Me, replace you? Not on my best day."
"I disagree. You are the only one I trust to do the job right, Severus. Once I am gone, the school will need a person of integrity and purpose at the helm. Minerva is good, but she doesn't enjoy being an administrator. You do. You know how to get things done, Severus, and you also can make certain that whoever is appointed Minister of Magic doesn't run roughshod over school policy. And teach the students those same values you embody, old friend."
Snape was shaking his head. "Albus, I think you're making a mistake . . ."
"Humor an old man then, Severus. Take the position for a year, as a trial run, then if you find you cannot abide it, choose a successor and resign. But right now the country is still in chaos, and I know we didn't get all of Riddle's followers. Hogwarts is still vulnerable, but only if you refuse to accept my proposal."
Severus sighed. "You're a clever old fox, old man," he said, giving in. "All right, I agree. I'll be Headmaster for a year. Then I'll re-evaluate and resign if I need to."
"Good, good. I promise you won't regret it."
"Famous last word, Albus."
Albus chuckled at the other's wit. "Not quite, my friend. Will you do me the favor of calling the rest of the staff? I would like to speak them."
"Right away, sir," said Severus.
Soon the rest of the faculty was gathered by the ailing wizard's bedside, where he told them about the appointment and bid them farewell. All of them left in tears, and Sybill fainted and had to be carried away by Pomona. None of them objected to Dumbledore's appointment.
There followed brief sessions with nearly every student in the castle, as Dumbledore wanted to bid them farewell personally. He spent the longest time with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Arista remained nearby, occasionally touching him to relieve the pain from the curse. His left arm was nearly all black.
He was sorry to hear of Draco's betrayal, for once he had hoped that the boy might turn on his father and become better than what he had been groomed to be. Sadly, that hope was now in vain. Severus told him that Minerva and the rest of the staff had voted to have Draco expelled.
"He'll be watched afterwards," Severus told him grimly. "It was against my better judgement to let him go, but I have no legal right to hold him here. But I shall keep a sharp eye on him and if he tries anything shady, I'll nail his hide to a wall for good and all. He's Lucius' son through and through."
"Under the circumstances, you can do no less," was all he said. "But the evil that Riddle represented is gone, for now. Watch over my children, Severus."
"I will, sir. You have my word on it." Severus promised, and Albus winked at him.
Then he closed his eyes and slipped into a deep and peaceful sleep from which he never awakened.
* * * * * * *
They buried him at dawn the next day, just as the sun had crested the horizon. The staff had constructed a beautiful marble tomb for the body of their most respected and dedicated Headmaster. Over a hundred people came to the funeral, not counting the faculty of Hogwarts and the students. Albus Dumbledore was buried with his wand clasped on his breast and draped over him was Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
Severus was supposed to do the eulogy, as the next Headmaster, but he allowed Harry to speak instead, recognizing the bond the younger man had shared with Dumbledore was that of a father and son, and knowing as well that Albus would have wanted it that way.
After Harry's remarks, Fawkes the phoenix took wing, soaring high into the sky, singing in a heartbreaking sweet melody, blazing like a fiery comet across the sky, sparks falling like rain from the scarlet and gold plumage to shower those watching with droplets of golden light.
The phoenix circled the tomb seven times, trilling loudly. Then it rose higher and higher until it was lost from sight.
"He goes to prepare the way," Severus murmured to Harry, putting an arm about him. "As I told him, you always have a guide."
"Fawkes knows the way?" Harry asked, wiping his eyes.
"He is a phoenix, Harry. He has made the journey countless times. No one knows the way better. Goodbye, Albus, my friend. Follow your phoenix to your final reward. No one deserves it more, but I shall miss you. We shall not see your like again in this world." Then he drew his wand and waved it once over the marble tomb, sealing it. "Sleep well, Albus. I shall keep my promise, never fear."
Then the new Headmaster of Hogwarts School led the procession of mourners back to the Great Hall for the funeral feast, the final farewell of the phoenix's song echoing in his ears.
Yes, I know this was a horribly sad chapter, but it needed to be here. Personally, I like it better than the Snape kills Dumbledore version. And this way Snape gets to be Headmaster in a normal way, not ruling over a bunch of terrified kids enslaved to the Death eaters.
One more chapter left, but it's a happy one, promise!
How did you like the way all the Death eaters got theirs? Interesting twists, right? How about Pettigrew's death? And Umbridge? I loved giving her the axe! And how about Harry's defeat of Voldemort?