And here is the last installment.
Happy Holidays, everyone. Hope this is a nice New Year gift for those who have been waiting for me to finally finish this epic tale.
Ms. Rowling and beloved Mr. Rickman - a thousand thank-yous for giving our world Severus Snape.
Finite Incantatem!
...
Lily's anguish roar deafened the grave-like courtyard, severing the dead still air hung thick around the two motionless bodies. One with pure white hair in dirty blue robe laid dormant; while the other in crisp black robe was seized in a tight embrace… of a massive serpent.
Severus' deep dark eyes remained wide open, yet his long limbs crushed inside Nagini's tightening coil remained as rigid as a marble sculpture, defenseless to the promise of doom that deathly jet of green whizzing menacingly his way would bestow.
The glaring light hit Severus' body. Hard.
It jerked both the wizard and the snake backward.
But the light was red.
And it seemed to be coming from the same emptiness where another jet of red shot rapidly towards the ghastly green light. The brutal impact of two ferocious forces of death and life sent mountainous shockwaves, splitting the air, shuddering and shaking every weathered stone ever lined Hogwarts' impenetrable walls.
The gush of wind whipped passed that empty space, suddenly revealing a form of a man holding on tight to his wand that was now locked with its sisterly counterpart. His green eyes glaring through the glasses with both disgust and determination.
Caught by surprise, a feeling rarely frequented his supreme being, the Dark Lord shifted his icy gaze to the latest addition to the meyhem, temporarily oblivious to the speeding shadow of a winged creature swooping from one of the tall towers overlooking the courtyard.
Their eyes locked, one fury-blazed, the other frost-bitten; and almost with ease, the masterful Legilimens gained access.
To the wildest story that would begin, and had begun, in only a few month's time.
Lost momentarily in the strange world of the strange boy's memory, Tom Riddle gave Fawkes that second. And it was only that split second the undying bird needed to snatch his faithful master's weakened body, and soared above them all, away to safety.
Wand still locked tight with the boy who came from nowhere, the Half-blood Lord roared with anger, "Get him! Kill them all!"
On queue, as if they had waited their whole miserable lives for this final order to destroy, the bloodthirsty pack of wizards in silver masks charged forward; wands drawn, ready for the thrill of the final massacre.
…
…
"It's now or never, eh Padfoot?"
"For once, we are up to some good, aren't we, Moony?"
"Yea. Let's go and manage this mischief, mate."
Knowing fully well that it was an understatement of a century, the three Marauders grinned at each other for what might be the last time, and sped out, leading the army of the Orders to face the charging sea of menacing silver masks.
Bursts of bright streams of lights; red, green, silver, and white clashed and bounced, raining down onto the courtyard as the two groups of wizards marched from and towards the guarded castle most of them once called home. Could the ancient fortress talk, it would demand an answer to what had gone miserably wrong within its seemingly perfect walls that had turned children of its own against each other.
Murdering each other.
For the sake of magical supremacy it had ironically spent years nurturing in them.
Or perhaps, it had always been there inside the blissfully ignorant walls of Hogwarts. The need to segregate and separate. The need to judge and be judgemental.
The need to conquer those deemed… different.
Yet, Hogwarts held no voice to weep. So, there it stood silently, witnessing the once children from its houses of many colours, hurling curses, unforgivable and not, at one another. Aiming to cut. Aiming to maim. Aiming to kill.
Aiming to reign.
Whatever the colour of the house they had been from, all now were drenched and draped in the same shade of red.
The morbid shade of bloodshed.
…
…
He began to see red.
Blood gashed and gushed from his flesh, painting the crisp white shirt deep crimson as Nagini tightened her death gripped coil, slithering her razor sharp scales right through his thick black cloak. Freed from a body-bind thanks to Harry's timely Renerverte, Severus had wandlessly hurled hundreds of angry Sectum Sempra at his hateful nemesis, yet her scaly skin remained impenetrable.
Crushed and almost out of breath, the Slytherin's consciousness began to slip away as his bones felt more and more brittle with each second passed. Through the corner of his increasingly blurry eyes, the suffocated soldier could manage to see the son he never had once again locking wands with the most skillful murderer the wizarding world had ever been cursed to know.
Yet before his heart could fathom the fear for the boy's life, his dark eyes registered an all too familiar sight... of two massive glistening fangs.
A roar bellowed from the crumbling gate of Hogwarts, and for a moment, the weathered veteran thought he must have already been bitten and was hallucinating for there was no way that figure charging could be real...
The venomous fang sank.
Sticky glob of thick liquid came spurting out, soaking his already red-dyed shirt and cloak. The once deadman waited for the searing pain he had known to envelope him into a deep nothingness; where his second chance had been given… and lost. Where no physical nor mental pain could plague his being. Where there would be no… Lily and Harry.
His heart braced for that final crush as the memory of their bright green eyes seared deep into his last thought.
But it never came.
The death grip, instead, slackened and Severus found himself unceremoniously dropped onto the ground. His shirt was no longer stained with deep red blood for it was not his, but Nagini's green slob trickling down from a gaping hole that a sharp pointy metal, accio-ed from the broken fence nearby, pierced deeply into its open mouth.
"Die, you fucking snake!" shouted a voice filled with hatred. It was a man's voice – the voice had it been shouted in any other circumstances, the Slytherin would bet his last Galleon that the 'snake' in question could have meant nothing else but an address to he himself. However, this time, the word, along with the maddening malice coming with it, was not directed at him, but strangely at his long dreaded serpentine murderer.
In shock, Severus could only stare blankly at his unlikely saviour, flabbergasted at the unimaginable that had just transpired. James Potter locked his proud brown eyes with Snape's questioning gaze without backing down. "It's for her," the lion-hearted barked. Lips pressed tight in defiance.
Unfortunately, the new-found unlikeliest truce was cut short by an incensed hiss. Severely injured, the magical serpent was blind with rage. Thrashing madly, its massive tail slammed left and right onto the cobbled ground, sending fierce tremors reverberating through the courtyard.
And that was when he saw her.
…
…
Losing her footing as the snake's tail slammed wildly once more onto the ground, Lily fell forward as she sped across the battlefield towards her serpentine Prince. She had been just a second later than her Gyffindor Head Boy whose unexpected gallant act also had caught her by the most pleasant surprise.
Seeing something coming towards her from the horizon, the Gryffindor witch jumped back up and started towards the snake that had once slain the love of her life.
But the wizard in question could not care less about the maddened snake towering just right behind. For his eyes now could see, and they saw his worst fear. Lily was out there, unguarded in the battlefield.
Instinctively, almost dazedly, Severus leapt to her, unaware of the rearing massive vermin. Every sound was muted by the pulsating blood in his ears, drumming with cold fear. His dark eyes could see shadows of wings fluttering pass him and a tattered piece of cloth dropped onto her open arms. He could see her, instead of being safe and covered inside the castle, pulling a sparkle of something silver and red from the ragged… hat, and grabbed onto the feathery collar of the undying bird, before it launched both itself and her into the air.
He could see her mouth move, but he could not hear her. There was one thing he knew he came back to do, and to hell he would finish this job properly this time.
The wizard on a borrowed second lease at life raised his wand and shouted a protective charm with all his might at the only person in the world who could give and take away his newfound life.
Bright blue haze from Severus' wand surrounded Lily with the strongest protection as she flew passed the wizard who had taught her the limitless capacity of love. Green eyes ablazed as brightly as the red ruby on Godric's shining sword in her hands, the fearless witch leapt off the flying phoenix, rearing her House's sword towards the slithering menace;
"Not. This. Bloody. Time!" shouted the redhead on top of her lungs.
The sword clanked down onto the floor, along with the snakes' lifeless head.
And a free-falling Gryffindor witch.
Before her body could hit the ground, the frightened father-to-be was already under her, cushioning and cocooning his brand-new reckless wife. "Are you- are you mad, Lily!?" Heart quivering with fright and pride and relief and love and everything it was capable of, the wizard of usual eloquent words could only mutter a mere five syllable sentence.
"It's dead now, Sev. I killed it."
Before Severus could form a coherent reply in the direction of and you almost kill your bloody self and our son, Fawkes landed right next to the couple, covering them both with his massive wings. The sound of curses whizzing through the air and Hogwarts ground crumbling rumbled distantly outside the undying bird's protective feathers. Still unable to manage a string of thoughts, the confused husband could do nothing but to press his lips, albeit angrily, onto his wife's as if it was his only source of life.
Severus took a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and pulled away from his only reason to live. "I love you, Lily. And should I miraculously survive until the end of today, you have no idea how much trouble you are in," grunted the spymaster before he unscrupulously casted a silent wandless Sleeping charm at the witch in his arms. Her green eyes held a flash of angry protest, before they closed, peacefully. "Fawkes, please do the right thing and take her away from here. Keep her -them - safe."
Be it the tricks of light or his own memory playing up, merging the bygone past with the present, for a moment, the undying bird's deep black eyes twinkled a shade of… bright blue.
And with just a slight nod, or a bow of acknowledgement, assurance, and mutual respect, the bird took to the sky, taking Severus only precious possession in the world with it.
Forcing himself to remove his eyes from her fading frame with flaming red hair flowing further away, only then the seasoned spy slowly let a familiar flash of fury and a feral sense of survival flood his long battle-ready veins.
The last trace of flawed human emotion banished from his plastered pale face, the Slytherin Prince cold dark eyes shone none of its new-found sparkles, but the deep bottomless abyss... and a glint of pure venom. Long nimble fingers gripped his wand tightly, yet almost leisurely. With no hesitation, the once-pawn-turned-predator channeled his most murderous rage that had blistered and burnt his heart to ashes a lifetime ago at one of the two figures caught in a wand lock. Feeling the ferocious force forming in every fibre of his being, Severus Snape hissed his final vengeful verse.
…
…
Never a master of Occlumency, Harry Potter could do nothing to fight off the penetrating glare from his arch enemy's hypnotizing gaze. Head heavy and body completely drained from sustaining the wand's connection, the boy who-had-been-through-this-too-many-a-time held on to it for dear life; but his strength was of no match to the Dark Lord at his most powerful.
He knew, however, that all he had to do was to hold on, and keep feeding flows of frightful memories to the Lord of Fear Mongers who was gobbling every agonizing details up in frenzy.
For the wizard he grew to trust with all his heart now was pointing his wand directly at this garish glutton gloater, ready to put an end to their shared source of a lifelong nightmare. For good.
Alas, Harry's soaring confidence was regrettably short-lived.
There was enough time for his eyes to see; his heart to freeze. Yet, his mouth was too slow to shout out.
And then it was too late. The jet of red hit the dark-haired wizard in tattered dark robe square in the back… as the eldest of the Black sister suddenly appeared out of nowhere; no doubt with the help of the Invisible Cloak that had been blown away from him in mere moments.
Severus Snape fell to the ground.
…
…
"Let us finish this, Albus. You have just escaped certain death. There is no wa-"
"One must see through to what one has started, Minerva. I shall be fine."
"But Fiendfyre is no child's play. Your strength…"
"That is precisely why you all are here. Remember, this is the Dark Lord himself hidden inside the Horcruxes. We need all our strengths combined to destroy them."
"Yes, but your powers are all drained. And by Merlin, the curse might still be in your veins. You could die if you over exhaust yoursel-"
"My dear Minerva, I thank you for your kindness. However, I have met someone who had shown me the… mastermind I would become. Of which, I would rather not be. It is time I shall also master the parts in my plan. Let us begin. Fiendfyre!"
…
…
"Let us begin, you scum halfblood traitor!" screeched the deranged Bellatrix. Eyes wide with the sheer exhilaration of having the honour to capture the wizard her master most wanted. Alive. He loves his toys alive...
Not one of the fortunate souls who had gone through life without experiencing the excruciating effect of the Cruciatus Curse, Severus counted himself fortunate that those agonising nights also had taught him how to shield away the searing white hot pain, and refocused his mind quickly at his opponent.
Also not one with many words, the proud Halfblood Prince wasted no time in taunting theatrics. With one masterful flick of wand, his own silent Sectum Sempra missed the lurid lady Lestrange's throat by a hair's breadth, leaving tiny trails of red, oozing out of the thin cut on her fair long neck. Instead of crying out in pain, the Black by blood cackled happily, crooning, "No small talk, Snape boy? I suppose my Lord won't mind if you ended up dead!"
Curse for curse, both Slytherins stood dueling; one aim to maim, the other to murder. Bellatrix had always been the Dark Lord's most loyal lieutenant, and one of the most powerful. Yet, having close to thirty more years of combative experience gave Severus more than the needed edge to inflict injuries, rather than receiving them.
Even when focusing on the battle at hand, the master spy's sharp senses or the fatherly bond snapped his well-trained ear immediately to the muffled sound of a too familiar grunt. Without needing to look, Severus knew that despite being the bravest boy ever lived, Harry's sheer willpower could not hold back the brute force of the unchallenged Lord much longer.
Anxious for the Boy-He-Grew-To-Care's safety, the defected Death Eater advanced quickly, sending rains of his signature curses her way; yet the bleeding banshee kept on cackling, never letting her defense down long enough for Severus to incapacitate her, nor giving him enough time to turn and join the boy's lonely fight.
The sound of a brutal blast ripped through the air, followed by a loud crashing thud. This time, the weathered veteran snapped his head just in time to see the Boy-Who-Lived laid motionless as his body crashed into a pile of stones that once had been Hogwarts' protective wall.
"Whoever that boy is, he will die at the hand of my Lord," Bellatrix's smug smile seemed permanently fixed onto her conceited face. Her dark curly hair now moist with blood - the same colour of mud just like any other's. She laughed hysterically, "The only way through me is to go through me, mudblood lover!"
"So be it, Bellatrix. Unlike you, killing does not delight me. But you leave me no choice," grunted the battle-weary wizard. Raising his wand, aiming right at her heart, Severus braced himself for the soul splitting effect… of murdering another soul. Yet, in that split second, the only thing he had not expected to see in her deeply demented dark eyes flared up. And it glared brightly.
Fear.
But the stench of that sickening sinking feeling was not at all for her own safety.
But for the blonde-haired witch's with a very pregnant belly that Bellatrix's eyes had just focused on.
…
…
Despite her disheveled state, it was still very hard not to admire Narcissa Malfoy's regal frame. The pureblood loyalty glided down the crumbling staircases, with her blond hair, usually tied up neatly, flying now freely with the wind.
The sight filled Lucius Malfoy's heart with such relief and joy he felt he could explode. Abandoning any pretense, the master of Malfoy manor dropped his silver mask abruptly onto the ground, and dashed as fast as his long legs could carry him to his only reason to live. Their eyes and heart met; rejoining, rejoicing, and remembering.
Being the true Malfoy, their imperial presence naturally commanded attention.
And that made them also hard to miss.
For not only her sister's deep black eyes had caught the sight of the younger Black rushing to her husband's arms.
But also another pair of glowing red slits, with a bottomless pit of malevolence.
Amidst the mayhem, two souls reunited; arms outstretched, ready to once again feel the comfort of each other's safe embrace.
And with his last step, their eyes locked. One corn blue brimming with tears of joy. The other grey glistened with a renewed lease of hope. Of life.
Before they went deadly white as Lucius Malfoy dropped lifelessly into his wife's open arms.
…
…
She could no longer cared if his curse would cut her into pieces.
All Bellatrix Lestrange's deranged mind could fathom was the image of her own master pointing his wand once again at the only person in the world who could challenge her and lived to tell the tales; the only person whose safety and survival mattered the world to her;
The only witch whom her twisted heart had ever… loved.
She could not even felt Severus' vicious Sectum Sempra ripping a deep raw gash into her abdomen, releasing a pool of blood gurgling down her black velvet robe; nor bothered to protect herself from its fiery agony.
For she had directed all her might, channeling all that she had through her wand, pointing straight… at her sister; as she shouted instinctively on top of her lungs.
"Protego!"
Only then, Voldemort's most loyal lieutenant realised what she had done.
…
…
His icy cold voice, hissed like a mere whisper, yet its frozen sharp edges cut through the air like a frosty blade piercing the ears of anyone and everyone in the crumbling courtyard. "You... defy me, Bellatrix?"
Cowering, drenched in her own pool of blood, caught in between her sister's slumping form and her master's feet, the Black's eldest mustered her waning strength and pleaded pitifully. "My lord, my loyalty… my love to you… knows no bound. B- But Cissy… Cissy… She is my… Cissy."
The eyes. That cold glowing eyes glinted red… with amusement. His thin cruel lips curved up and the Darkest of all Lords gave his once most trusted soldier a sickening smile. "Your wish is granted, my dear Bella. For you, I shall spare your pregnant sister."
Hope flooded the bloodied face of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Before her master delivered what he did best - crushing all traces of it with sheer ecstasy. "The honour is yours, my most loyal Bella. You. You shall finish off your beloved sister as you promised." His white teeth glistened as the sadistic self-dubbed Lord sniggered savagely, "There shall be no place for ones who failed me. That includes her. And you, should you fail this command, dearest Bella. The choice is now yours."
Fat unruly tears began to form in the murderous witch's black eyes; before she forcefully willed them all away. Her face once more plastered, leaving the only trace of weakness in her trembling hand that now held the wand tight, pointing slowly to the witch with blonde hair.
The little witch she used to hold in her arms.
The witch who had never stopped clutching onto her green robe in her first year at this very godforsaken place.
The witch whose pale blue eyes always looked up lovingly to her.
Yet, Narcissa Malfoy had no spark of life left in her dead eyes.
For half of her soul had been ripped brutally apart, joining that of her lifeless husband, still clutched tight in her arm, through the unreachable veil.
Her blank stare registered nothing.
Not even the wand her sister was pointing at her.
Nor the rare genuine smile her proud Bella gave.
One last time.
Before the Black's eldest daughter chose life over death.
The life for her baby sister… and her sister's baby.
Bellatrix Lestrange dropped her wand.
And with an unmistakable jet of green engulfing her, the Dark Lord's most loyal lieutenant whose deranged heart had been infected with a trace of love dropped dead.
Only then, Narcissa began to scream.
…
…
Not losing any valuable second, Severus snapped himself away from the tragic scene. The sight, all too raw, all too familiar, and all too close to his heart, fuelled him with deathly force of vengeance. The veteran of too many wars took his last aim, and roared the most Unforgivable Curse of all at the most unforgivable wizard ever existed.
Green jet of pure hatred sped towards Tom Riddle.
Only to be met with the equally green, and equally hateful force.
"There you are, my dear Snape."
Glowing red eyes and determined jet black ones locked.
And the most fatal duel the wizarding world had ever witnessed began.
Curse for curse, this time, it was Severus pale skin that dripped out more and more blood from countless gashes, one after the other. A green jet missed him by a hair's breadth, and the former spy knew his odd of winning the wizarding world its freedom was wearing very thin.
Blasting away every curses coming his way, there was no chance even for the most seasoned dueller to get through. Thin lips on the pale white face smirked, taunting. "My oh my, is that all you can do with two lifetime's worth of war? Such weakness, Severus! Taste my wrath!"
Another bout of green jets flew at him from seemingly all directions. Casting a protego shield just in time to block all.. but one, the wizard on a borrowed time braced himself for the deathly impact.
That was blasted away by a timely jet of white, shot from Harry Potter's wand.
"Not letting you die that easily, Severus," shouted the boy staggering to stand up despite his wobbly legs, still dazed from the brutal impact. "Let's finish this bastard off togeth-"
But before the bravest boy ever lived could finish his sentence, Voldemort's wandless Confringo blasted both of his challengers, knocking Severus away, crashing him into the gargoyle statue. Harry's unconscious body flew once again through the air like a broken-winged bird caught in a thunderous storm, and landed unceremoniously next to the deadened Malfoy mistress whose eyes could only stare blindly, fixated at the two breathless bodies of her loved ones looking back at her with their lifeless white eyes.
Harry's trusted wand slipped away from the boy's inert hand, and rolled on to rest by Narcissa's feet.
And with that faintest touch, the Malfoy mother woke from her paralyzing shellshock.
With blind rage.
Trembling hand seized, and clutched the borrowed wand tight. Her hollowed heart combusted as if burnt by Fiendfyre.
Never before had the Killing Curse been casted with such a murderous ferocity that it shook every molecule in the air, sending seismic tremors throughout the battlefield.
Time stood still as two sisterly wands once again locked in a duel to kill. A bright deep gold beam of light began to swallow both green jets of abomination, and started to engulf the grieving and raging mother and the orphaned tyrant who took all that she lived for away.
Eerie shadows of blue slowly emerged from the Dark Lord's wand. A familiar shape of a witch with thick dark curly hair slipped out and floated towards Narcissa, followed by the only form the regal witch could recognise anywhere. The tall frame of a blonde man just now laid lifeless in her embrace, deaf to her desperate tearful pleas.
A surge of blistering pain rose through her throat, scorching all that was left inside of her, and turned into a voice, animalistic and raw, "YOU. KILLED. THEM!"
Marching physically, closing the gap between her and the hateful Lord of Death, the Malfoy sole mistress fixed her broken blue eyes onto the ghostly face of her departed husband. The once scared witch could no longer feel any fear in her frozen heart, but a sheer frost-bitten fury that bit and blazed anything in her path. "YOU. KILLED. THEM. BOTH!"
Scoffing at the ghostly blue smokes and the beaten witch on the other end, Voldemort languidly strolled closer to her. His superior strength overpowered the Malfoy sole survivor by the second
Step by step, their faces grew closer and closer.
Until she was staring directly at his red glowing eyes.
Tauntingly, revelling in his own perverse pleasure, the Dark Lord gave trembling Narcissa his sweetest sneer… before he caught her face, and pressed his thin lips forcefully onto her tightly-clenched ones.
This time, the agonizing scream was his own.
…
…
That sharp howl snapped Severus and Harry back from oblivion. It did not take long for both seasoned Voldemort fighters to realise what had just transpired.
Death that killed them twice...
All will die if no one sacrifices...
The ones with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord are born at their own soul's demise…
Narcissa Malfoy had just lost half of her soul, with the two deaths of her loved ones.
She also was given a chance to live.
Before Bellatrix had chosen to die… to save her...
And in that moment, both men tormented and protected with the memory of Sacrificial Protection roared, in unison, "Touch him! TOUCH. HIM!"
Staggering backward, breaking the wand's connection, the Dark Lord tried to throw the blistering Narcissa Malfoy to the side. A jet of red shot quickly from Severus' wand hit the heartless tyrant hard, and his Petrificus Totalus bound the flailing figure inescapable… of the witch with vengeance. Her searing hands clasped hard and clawed at his pale startled face, scorching the nose and his pallid flesh into flaky charcoal.
Red glistening eyes, for the first time, flickered with fright. And that fear of death itself was feral enough for Lord Voldermort to shake himself off Severus' strong binding curse. Teeth baring, mouth frothing, fear diabolically dancing in his eyes, it took only a split second for Tom Riddle to bark the only curse he relied on.
The only curse he was sure would save him.
"Avada Kedavra!"
And it also took only a split second, before that final green jet of torment and turmoil bounced right back from the blonde witch…
And engulfed the once unvanquishable self-dubbed Lord, incinerating him and his demented soul forever into dust.
…
…
The rain drizzling down onto what was left of Hogwarts washed away the blood stains, merging mud and blood in the same river of crimson. Bodies of the fallen had been removed from the battlefield, leaving only debris and memory of the prize all of them had paid for a deep-seated hateful segregation.
Two men stood side by side at the placid lake, overlooking the deserted boat house, feeling the invisible weight they both carried for a lifetime easing away. A complete stranger to the purest form of freedom, for a moment, both Harry Potter and Severus Snape felt at lost. Like a pawn with no player, warrior with no war. Their guiding post of purpose to save and defeat now had turned into a milestone in a promise of a long unknown road of life to come.
But that irrational thought was repelled as quickly as it came.
For both of them knew fully well, their sole solace and shared purpose now lied asleep peacefully inside the castle they fought with their lives to protect.
"You know she will simply murder you when she's awake, right?"
"...yea, I know."
"But yea… I would have done the same thing."
"Yes, I know."
"So, how do you plan to talk your way out of her fury this time, then?"
"That… requires less of talking and more of… doing." Allowing a chuckle to rise up freely in what felt like a century, Severus reached out his hand and ruffled the frowning boy's hair...lovingly. "But I am sure you do not want the details."
Glaring daggers at the taller wizard, who looked a thousand years younger than he last remembered, Harry changed the subject, "How is Mrs. Malfoy?"
"She is under Pomfrey's care. I am sure they will do their best to ensure Draco's safe delivery. Given… what she had gone through for all of us."
"It is quite strange, you know, seeing what happened to me... cursed on her. I would not wish that life on anyone, Malfoy or not," muttered the Boy-Once-Cursed, banishing bygone memories of his own tragedy.
"That is precisely the point, isn't it. Harry? Malfoy or not," sighed the battered spy who had survived too many wars. "We have inflicted our world with too many… names. The Malfoy. The Potter. The Black. The Gaunt. The Prince. I am a scheming Slytherin. You are a brave Gryffindor. They are smart Ravenclaws. And those would be bloody love-lorn Hufflepuffs. Who cares what bloodline or what house you are from. Every bloody body bleeds. And every fucking body dies if that red mud-like blood runs out of you."
"Wow, Professor Snape. I am sure Salazar would be most disappointed in you. The Head of Slytherin disavowing himself from blood and house supremacy. What atrocity!"
"Shut up, Potter."
"Oh, and that… Now what, Severus? What would become of me?"
"You will be with us, Harry. That is, if you choo-"
But Severus' answer was cut short… at the arrival of Poppy's howler.
"GET TO THE INFIRMARY AT ONCE! IT'S LILY!"
…
…
Once again, the figure draped in thick black shredded cloak stood right in the middle of rows of empty beds, safe for two - one with a very pregnant blonde witch resting with the help of Sleeping Draught.
The other was occupied by a redhead, curling up into a ball, crying in agony.
With three long strides, Severus sank on his knees right by his wife's side. His dark eyes maddened with shock, fear, and confusion. "What the hell is happening, Poppy!?"
The resident nurse ignored his question, and forced another dose of Sleeping Draught into the witch's bruised lips. The thrashing slowed and stopped. Pale as a paper, Lily was finally resting, oblivious to the anguish cry her husband was making.
Snatching the nurse's arm roughly, the former Potion Master's dead grip bored into the nurse's plump skin until she cried out in pain. Realizing what he had done, the panic-stricken wizard let go, and dropped unceremoniously onto the floor. Long nimble fingers clawing at his own face, "Is it… was it… my sleeping spell?"
This time, Madame Pomfrey was swift with answer, "No, dear child. No. It was… the baby, Severus…" Her whisper quivered with emotions. "The baby is… killing her."
"The baby?... My...baby… I- I-"
"Stop it, Severus. It is not your fault," interjected the nurse sharply, yet her voice seemed to have been lost on the crushed father, sinking deeper into his own lifelong self-hatred. His voice robbed of its usual assured volume now sounded small, almost a squeak, "H... How?... Why? Why...now…?"
"The baby has...somehow… no soul… And it's taking… hers."
That was all it took.
For the man clawing his way back from death to break down. Dreams of mere moments ago with a new lease on the life of the free shattered into pieces.
He sank.
Howled.
And sobbed.
Until there was no tears left.
Only pure raw self-loath his soul was more than accustomed to a lifetime ago.
…
…
A wrinkled hand was placed on Harry's trembling shoulder, jolting the boy from his nightmare-turn-reality. Afraid and frustrated, the boy wanted to run and shake the fallen wizard on the floor to action. To do something. To make miracles. Yet, that figure that used to shield and protect all of them could offer none of its usual comfort, but crumbled into a shell of a man.
A man with no soul.
"Come with me, dear boy," intoned Dumbledore coolly.
"No! Fix her. Fix her now, and I will do anything you said," shouted Harry, pleading and threatening at the same time. "There must be a way!"
"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." The age old wizard's reply remained cryptic.
"Wh- What!? Then what are you waiting for!? We have done all your biddin-"
"Alas, dear child. It is not up to me." Seeing the boy's growing confusion, the wisest wizard of them all placed his wrinkled hand onto one of the most Gryffindor hearts and continued, "But there is a lot, I think, you brave, brave boy can do. Search your heart, Harry. When you find him, you will find the way."
…
…
The defeated wizard slumping on the floor save for only his long fingers that held on tight to the hand of the red-haired witch looked nothing like the twenty-year-old man Harry had gotten to know, but the thirty-eight-year-old wornout veteran he had once watched life draining away from his tired black eyes.
The same distant eyes registered the boy's presence. Thin lips muttered. Hateful. Mournful. Regretful. "It's my fault. I am cursed." Traces of dried-up tears ran down his pallid cheeks. "That baby… is killing her. I am killing her. Oh Merlin… I shouldn't have come back."
Fist clenched white. Severus' fingers bored deeply into his own flesh, loathing every fibre of his own being. "I'm a monster. She is too pure for me. Too pure... for a monster's baby. "
"You are not a monster." Approaching closer, Harry Potter knelt before the man his heart had finally found the courage not only to wholely embrace, but also love. Flashes of memories of the man cursed to be hated sent a crippling guilt to his heart. For he had joined the crowd, relishing in loathing the wizard who had been cruelly casted to play the monstrous part.
"What do you know, Boy!?" Sorrow turned swiftly to rage. "I murdered people. Many of them. My soul is too incomplete… and now, she is paying the price of... my sins."
Swallowing the guilt threatening to rise to his throat, the Boy who now could look with his heart inched closer to the only wizard who had spent his life teaching him how one's skins could never truly define one's soul. "That was a lifetime ago. And you have more than paid for your crime of ignorance. You paid it with spending your life… wasting your life… for me."
"I suppose that wasn't enough. For once, I thought I could be… more… more than I clearly am entitled to."
Gathering his strength with one last steadying breath, Harry Potter reached out his hand, and took Severus Snape's cold lifeless one into his. "Severus," the boy called out. "Whatever happens, whatever that baby might be." His green eyes searched the man's hollowed ones before the boy with the truest heart delivered what he long intended to say;
"You are the best father anyone could ever have."
That sentence. The unexpected assurance both soothed and cut the wretched wizard's wilting heart into pieces. Severus looked up. His deep black bloodshot eyes and Harry's green orbs met, both brimming with past torment and current tears.
"You have been one, Severus. You have been more than a father… to me."
It was as if those simple words had thawed that solid frozen rock once was Severus' heart. Renewed tears ran unabashedly from his haunted eyes, displaying his weakness openly for the boy to see.
"Look... At... Me."
Then, the forlorn father pulled the son he never had into a bone-crunching hug. Clutching on for the remnant of life… and love he could almost no longer feel.
"Oh Harry, what are we going to do...:"
But then, there was no answer from the boy.
For he now had burst into a bright beam of golden light. The sparkling figure seemed to grin the widest smile, and waved… before disappearing into the body of his mother-to-be.
Right before his father's bewildered eyes.
As if touched by magic, Lily's cheek began to glow. Severus stood up, in daze. His hand instinctively placed onto her belly.
The touch, that reassuring tiny butterfly kick he could feel, felt more magical than any magic the wizarding world had to offer. And that immense power rushed into Severus heart and charged it with the boundless and incredible flow love that he did not know he could possess. The bravest wizard ever lived once again succumbed to the unaccustomed tears. Of joy.
"Til we meet again… soon. Son."
And for the first time, the-Boy-Who-Lived began truly living a life.
A life worth dying for.
…
A/N: A bonus for my patient readers: an epilogue will be posted on Severus' coming birthday.
Thank you for putting up with my tardiness for almost seven years! :)
Leave your final thoughts, please?