Chapter Eighty-Four
Fingers stroked gently through his hair, where Regulus' head laid upon Julia's chest, his eyes upon her abdomen.
He drew circles with the tip of his finger on the exposed skin – the new, very slight swell of their child – and lifted and turned his head slightly to meet her eyes.
"What was your mother's name?"
Julia gave him a smile.
"Marceline."
Regulus smiled in turn, "Beautiful." He turned his head, touching his lips to her stomach, his voice a murmur, "Hello, Marceline."
Julia chuckled.
"It could be a boy, Regulus."
"Impossible. I already have a son."
Julia laughed more fully then.
"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that."
"Hm," Regulus grinned, shimmying up further in the bed, so that they were nose to nose, "Are you talking healer to me, Wife?"
Her hand came up, taking him by the nape of his neck and drawing him in for a kiss.
The darkness of their bedroom – of the night – was suddenly lit up by the whoosh of a Patronus sweeping before them – a doe that Regulus recognized instantly – and the two of them turned to look as it hung high above them on the bed.
It spoke with Severus' voice.
"Death Eaters have infiltrated Hogwarts. Expect Harry and Malachi in the Foundation lobby in the next twenty minutes."
Regulus sprung to his feet.
There was a stillness in the Castle.
An eerie silence as Severus hurried through the doors, wand clutched tight in his hand.
"Severus!"
He spun round at the voice, just as Lupin appeared, hurrying across the entrance hall – drawing his robes closed over his nightclothes – also clutching his wand, "I got your message –"
"Get Harry and Malachi and take them to the Headmaster's office. The fireplace is connected by floo to the Foundation. Regulus will be waiting for them –" Severus swept by him as he said the words, adding the Slytherin password as an afterthought, "Salazar."
Severus caught sight of lit wands up ahead, huddled close together, the first sign that anyone had noticed anything.
Lupin hesitated for only a moment, seeming ready to join the congregation, but – at Severus' glare – he hurried on by to the dungeons, while Severus made his way towards those who approached.
It was Minerva, Severus realized, along with Professor Sprout and Filch, the three of them speaking hurriedly amongst themselves, and her eyes warmed with relief when she noticed him as he reached her side.
"Severus –"
"When did it appear?"
"Minutes ago – Albus has not yet returned from the Ministry – I have sent him a message that he return at once. The assigned Order guards and other professors are patrolling the grounds and the corridors, searching, but, as far as we can see, there has been no sign of anything amiss. No breaches in the wards whatsoever."
"It'll be one of those seventh-year lads, I'm telling ya," Filch said, eyeing the corridor, "Another one of their pranks, hauling us all out of our beds in the middle of the night."
Minerva met Severus' eyes.
Severus shook his head.
"This is no prank."
Draco clutched his wand tightly in his hand, eyes closed, as he waited in the courtyard.
He willed his nerves to be still, pushed down the feeling of sickening dread that bubbled in his gut, that this was finally the night it would happen.
The night he was expected to do it. To kill Albus Dumbledore. The great wizard whom the Dark Lord, himself, was too afraid to face. Or die himself.
Draco swallowed, squeezing his already-closed eyes shut tighter, as his hands trembled, knowing this was ridiculous.
Everyone knew that he couldn't do it.
This was just a slow punishment for his mum's – his breath caught at the thought of her – for his mum's betrayal. For daring to put love and family above all else.
Too soon, he heard the steady thud of approaching footsteps.
It took less than five minutes after his father had cast the Mark for the old man to come back to the Castle.
Dumbledore.
He walked briskly up the pavement in the direction of where Draco hid, ready to ambush him.
Both their wands were drawn and ready – Dumbledore looking far more intimidating than one would expect for a man of over a hundred – and Draco swallowed, apprehensively, having been told he had one chance at this.
One chance or his father would do it.
Draco would much rather his father did. But his father had been subverted by Order guards on their descent down the staircase – he and the others who'd accompanied them – telling Draco to go on ahead.
Get it done.
An order not to be defied.
He knew what it would mean if – when – he couldn't. He'd be tortured – killed, even – and probably his father, too.
Executed before one another – Draco didn't know which would be first – like his mum.
Draco heard Dumbledore's footsteps getting closer and when he lined up with where he stood behind the beams, he quickly took aim.
"Expelliarm –!"
His own wand flew through the air, accioed into Dumbledore's hand free hand – as if he had known he had been there all along - and the Headmaster turned to face him, calmly.
"Ah. Draco."
Harry was shaken awake, roughly, and a hand quickly clamped over his mouth – silencing his whine of protest – before his eyes were fully open.
It took a second of panic – a moment where he wondered if he was dreaming – before they focused on his Uncle Remus, and Harry frowned in confusion – a sense of alarm rising back up right away, knowing something must be wrong – and he quickly noticed Malachi standing behind him, as he sat up with a start.
Remus held a finger to his lips, while he lowered the other than had been over Harry's mouth, before using it to indicate that Harry and Malachi follow.
The three of them hurried from the dorm room, leaving behind the others who were sleeping soundly.
Not a word was spoken – the only communication between them were Harry and Malachi's shared looks of confusion and concern – as they crept through the tunnel that led back out of the Gryffindor corridor, and it was only when they were hurrying away from the Fat Lady's Portrait that Remus finally spoke.
"We have reason to believe there are Death Eaters somewhere within the Castle," he told them, in a hurry, as they hastily made their way along the seventh floor corridor, "Your father, Malachi, he's going to be waiting for you two at the Foundation."
"Death Eaters?" Harry repeated, dumfounded, as he and Malachi hurried to keep up with Remus' quick strides, "But how? How did they get in?"
"I have no idea," Remus told him, as they hurried on through the Hall of Hexes, and around the corner, "For all we know it's just a student playing –"
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light – a spell – suddenly hit the ground in front of Malachi's feet – just missing him – stopping them short.
There were hissed voices in the shadows.
"Control yourself, Bella."
"The boy is mine," a low female voice said as a figure stepped out from the shadows.
It was a woman with dark features and a menacing gaze as she eyed Malachi down her nose.
Even from this distance, several meters away, she was terrifying.
Harry's breath caught as two others – masked, unlike she – stepped from the shadows behind her, their silver faces glinting in the moonlight.
They were two of many more, Harry realized, as more figures stirred behind them, seeming to come out of nowhere – from a room Harry didn't know even existed in this corridor.
The woman took a step towards them, her lip curling and showing teeth, and Malachi stumbled back, a look of terror on his face, obviously recognizing her.
The woman's frame shook with amusement as she lifted her wand, swaying it side to side, "Hello Baby Black. Ready to go again?"
Remus stepped in front of them, his wand clutched tight in his hand, and Harry and Malachi quickly drew their wands.
"Boys," Remus whispered, "Run."
Spells suddenly fired forth at where they stood – flashes of light hitting the walls and the ground and the shield charm Remus hastily threw up to protect them, and Harry and Malachi's arms swung up, deflecting what they could – hugely outnumbered – before the three of them turned on their heels, ducking the others spells that followed, and ran.
A silvery Patronus – a wolf – sped on ahead of them down the corridor.
Lily ran up the grassy slope of the Foundation grounds, taking the stone stairs that led up to the entrance two at a time, her heart beating wildly both due to her pace and what Julia had told her, after almost banging her door down in the middle of the night.
Lily tried to get her panic under control – forced aside all instinct she had to just apparate directly to Hogwarts at once – and burst through the doors into the Foundation.
The lobby was almost entirely empty, save for two or three people, and Lily spotted Regulus up ahead, pacing the floor in front of the, now, almost entirely unused fireplaces.
Connected only to two places.
Hogwarts and the Ministry; for cleared personnel only.
Lily hurried up to him, quickly picking up on Regulus' own apprehension as she reached him.
"Regulus."
He turned, his hand going to her arm, and his eyes full of the same alarm she felt.
"Have you heard anything?"
She shook her head.
"No. Nothing. You?"
Regulus shook his head, eyes glancing at the timepiece on the wall, before he said, "They should be here by now."
Lily swallowed, her own sense of dread rising up even further within her – the very same dread that had never left, not since Severus' words to her earlier that night – and she started to speak.
To suggest they just go and get their sons, themselves.
But, before she could – just as her mouth opened to say so – a Patronus in the form of a cat swept before them, speaking in Professor McGonagall's brisk voice.
"Hogwarts Castle is under attack. All available Order of the Phoenix –"
Another Patronus – a wolf – swept in on the heels of it, speaking over the first, in Remus' voice.
"They've found us."
The two silvery lights vanished at the same time, leaving Lily and Regulus staring at the spot where they'd been.
And then Regulus' hand grabbed her by arm, pushing her back, and the two spun around, sprinting from the room.
Draco stared at his wand where it was clutched in Dumbledore's hand as the old man looked at him with a warmth that he had never directed his way before. A warmth that no one had directed his way in months.
Not since his mum had died.
The thought only made the anger, the hatred he felt, burn all the more within him and he glowered at the man before him.
"You're finished, old man."
Dumbledore glanced down at the two wands he held.
"I do believe you have quite failed in your mission, my dear boy. Though, I must admit, I never truly believed you would go through with it. Even if I had not disarmed you just now. You are not a killer, Draco."
"You don't know what I am," Draco snarled at him, "I'm one of his. I've taken his Mark! And it doesn't matter to him if I do it – all he cares about is that you are dead. And you will be. Tonight."
Draco's eyes went to the Castle, still waiting on them making their appearance – his father, the waiting Death Eaters – who would surely come, now, that he had failed.
There had only been two Order guards – his dad could have finished them off, easily, surely – and there had been at least a dozen Death Eaters sent through that cabinet.
And the werewolves, too, Draco remembered, almost shuddering with disgust.
"Indeed, our time is somewhat limited," Dumbledore said, entirely calmly, as if he wasn't about to be ambushed by a flock of his sworn enemies, "So, let us discuss your options, shall we?"
"My options?" Draco repeated, staring at him.
And then he laughed.
Laughed long and hard and he felt tears prickling his eyes.
"My options? I have no options! If I don't do this, I'm dead. My father's dead. My whole family –"
Draco choked on the words because that was all there was.
Him and his father, who couldn't care less.
His mum was gone, and nobody cared.
They didn't even bury her.
All his father cared about was licking the Dark Lord's boots and making sure Draco did the same, handing his mum over to him to do as he liked. A traitor's death. Left to rot.
Draco was alone.
He was alone and he didn't even know why he cared, why he was so scared of dying – at least, maybe, he'd be with her again, if he did – when there wasn't really anything or anyone around for him to live for, anyway.
But he was scared.
He didn't want to die.
Draco's lip trembled.
"It's too late."
There was a crash and the sounds of voices and shouts inside the Castle and Dumbledore turned, slightly, in their direction.
For a moment, Draco thought he would just go. He'd dealt with him, now. The Headmaster made the slightest of movements in the direction of the school.
But then Dumbledore turned back, eyes upon him.
And the old man stepped towards him, instead, his voice reassuring and his eyes warm, so much so that Draco dared – despite all he'd been told about the old man by others, by his father, by the Dark Lord – to believe him.
To hope.
"It is never too late, Draco. Come over to the right side and we can protect you. Hide you. You need not return to the side of Lord Voldemort –"
Draco winced at the name.
"I know you do not wish it. And nothing has been done – yet – from which you cannot come back from –"
Draco's hand involuntary went to his arm, where the Dark Mark was branded upon him, and Dumbledore gave the slightest of nods, his voice going on, softly.
"You would not be the first of his followers to realise the error of their ways and seek to rectify their mistakes."
Draco bit his lip, shaking his head.
"Snakes. Traitors."
But Draco realized he was one, too.
He'd become one, the moment he saved Daphne on the train, and lied about it.
He'd be caught for that. Soon, he'd be before the Dark Lord, on his knees while he stifled through his mind, looking for anything useful to him. And he'd see Daphne and he'd see this.
But he'd have failed, anyway, so maybe he wouldn't even bother looking.
Maybe he'd just kill him right away.
The shouts within the Castle were intensifying and, suddenly, Draco could see there were figures running up the grass and Draco knew, then, that they were part of Dumbledore's Order.
He met the old man's eyes, warily, wondering why his father still hadn't come.
Why Dumbledore was still alive and well before him, offering him hope, while the old man's own soldiers made to join them – running past the two of them where they stood, taking no notice of Draco, at all – and into the Castle.
The sounds of battle within intensified when the doors swung open.
Dumbledore lifted his chin, giving Draco a smile – to his absolute astonishment – and then he held out the wand he had confiscated at the beginning of their encounter.
Draco swallowed, eyeing it.
Before he met Dumbledore's eyes and reached out, lifting his wand from the outstretched hand.
Harry stumbled on the last step – tripping and landing with an 'oomph' on his stomach – and Malachi quickly grabbed him under the arms – not stopping in his own steps – and hauled him back up as the two of them ran on, ducking the spells that were firing all around them, hitting the timbres and sending bits of wood and stone everywhere, his Uncle Remus covering their backs.
Harry was sure they'd be hit – how could one of them not have already been hit – as they ran along the third floor corridor, trying to make their way down to the ground, where Remus had said the Order would come in through.
"Remus!"
Harry almost sighed with relief when he heard another voice as they rounded the corner but it was just Professor McGonagall – who Harry didn't really fancy had much of a chance at helping them – and Professors Burbage and Hooch, as well, and Harry was sure they were doomed.
"At least a dozen –" his Uncle Remus gasped out, out of breath, as they reached them, and they raised their wands just as the first rounded the corner, fighting them off.
McGonagall made swish with her wand and a torch on the wall flew towards the approaching Death Eaters, becoming a ring of fire as it did, in the form of a lasso, wrapping around two of them who yelled in pain as it seized them.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise, more than a little impressed.
"Boys, GO, now!"
Harry shook his head, raising his wand to fight.
Malachi did the same. Albeit a little less enthusiastically.
"You're not helping, Harry, GO!" Remus yelled, as flashes of light fired forth once more and the professors were immediately engaged in combat with the Death Eaters that had reached them.
Harry lifted his wand, opening his mouth to speak an incantation, but was suddenly seized by the collar and dragged backwards, and he turned just in time to catch a glimpse of Snape's face before he was shoved on ahead.
He stumbled, glancing over his shoulder, only just catching Snape's eye who had grabbed Malachi by the arm, hauling him roughly from where he stood at McGonagall's side, before he was hurrying them down the next flight of stairs, muttering under his breath.
"Absolute foolishness."
"What –"
"This is no time for questions, Mr. Potter."
They ran down the next flight of stairs and the next, the sounds of shouts and bangs and yells still echoing loudly above them – still in hot pursuit, despite the reinforcements – and they finally hit the ground floor, running, and reaching to pass the Great Hall but, when they did, two other masked Death Eaters appeared up ahead, appearing fresh out of a scuffle on the other staircase.
Snape stopped, each hand immediately gripping both he and Malachi by the arms.
"Severus," a silky-smooth voice greeted him – one Harry was sure he recognized from the Foundation attack – and Harry swallowed at the familiarity by which it addressed the man beside him.
Harry lifted his eyes to Snape's face, who looked entirely calm, nonplussed by the fact there were two Death Eaters right in front of them, and raised his eyebrows.
Snape made to speak – Harry was sure he was about to come up with some excuse for why he had them – but before he could, the main entrance door suddenly burst open.
Harry knew right away – seeing Tonks – that it was the Order, there at last.
The two Death Eaters were quickly engaged by the arriving reinforcements, just as the Death Eaters who had been pursing them down the staircases stumbled in behind them – Remus and the other professors along with them – as Snape quickly pulled Harry and Malachi backwards by the arms, ducking into the Great Hall.
"Wands out. Get over there," Snape lifted his chin, vaguely in the far direction of the Professors' table, as he turned and engaged with the next person – a Death Eater – the first of several who spilled into the room.
Harry and Malachi barely reached half-way across the hall before one of the Death Eaters was upon them, hurrying up the side of the Ravenclaw Table, and Harry lifted his wand, only just managing to deflect the spell that was fired his way.
Another came and another and Harry quickly flicked up his wand, deflecting the spells, before his own fired forth – "Stupefy!" – which was easily blocked but while the Death Eater deflected it Malachi cried out at his side.
"Petrificus totalus!"
And the Death Eater hit the floor.
There was no time for celebrating – to even be shocked that they'd actually floored one – as each of them gripped their wands, another coming upon them, and Harry fired another spell – Malachi too – the two of them taking on the next one, two to one, as more people – Death Eaters, Order Members and Professors, alike – flooded into Great Hall, while others continued to fight – lights flashing back and forth across the doorway – in the entrance hall.
All the plates on the Slytherin table beside them suddenly rose up, transfiguring in the air into arrows, and they shot towards each of the Death Eaters – Harry watching in awe as Professor McGonagall aimed them – before he had to duck to get out of the way of an enormous Christmas wreath that tore off the roof and hurtled in her direction, becoming a live, hissing serpent as it flew through the air, that she vanquished in a puff of smoke.
A purple flash of light firing in front of Harry that Malachi quickly deflected – saving his skin – forced him to focus.
Harry had never seen anything like it.
More items flew through the air, transfiguring into weapons and disappearing in puffs of smoke or explosions of glitter, while incantations were shouted out all around them, shots of purple and blue and yellow lights lighting the room in quick, blinding flashes.
It was even more ferocious than the battle had been at the Foundation.
But then, Harry had been hiding, not fighting, that time and adrenaline pushed him on, then, as he drew on all he'd learned from Remus and the Duel Club as he stood, fighting them off, properly, this time.
Fighting on instinct, deflecting and firing back spells at any who tried to attack them.
"Expelliar –"
"Stupefy!"
Another Death Eater hit the ground – the second he and Malachi had floored – and it was then that Harry realized the first Malachi hit was no longer where he'd fallen, the spell having worn off, already.
People were screaming, now, and bodies were being thrown across the room – as well as the transfigured weapons – hitting the tables and sliding off them onto the floor with gasps and groans of pain.
A green light hit off the table in front of them, only just missing Malachi again – deflected by Snape, Harry realized when he looked up – and he saw the same crazed woman approaching that had attacked them first time.
Malachi went white, his hand gripping his wand, as the woman snarled and fired a spell forth at him and Harry fired one back at her – he and Malachi firing spells together, two-on-one like before, and throwing up shields – but she was good, Harry realized, they'd need more than just them two for this one.
They struggled and struggled until, suddenly, Harry was hit by one – by something unbearable, and he screamed, hitting the ground and writhing under it – some indescribable agony coiling and twisting and burning within him – making him sob and scream and convulse on the floor.
It abruptly stopped though his nerves still hummed and his mind still spun but through it Harry caught a glimpse of red-hair up ahead – his mum – engaging with and pushing the crazy woman back.
Malachi hurriedly knelt down next to him, trying to pull him back up, but he had to let go, deflecting another spell and quickly getting to his feet when another Death Eater jumped down off the table at them.
"Potter! Oh, you'll be worth a good prize –"
Malachi shot a spell at him that the Death Eater easily deflected, before grabbing Malachi by the throat, "You too, Traitor-Spawn –"
The Death Eater was suddenly hit from behind with a spell that made him drop to the ground beside where Harry was still in a heap, trying to catch his breath, and Mr. Black hurried up to them.
"Dad!"
Mr. Black hugged Malachi, his wand gripped so tight his knuckles were white, as his eyes met Harry's over Malachi's shoulder, "You alright?"
Harry forced a nod, trying to ignore the way his hands trembled, as Mr. Black reached down, grasping one, and pulled him up to his feet.
There was a deafening smash, suddenly, off to the side in the entrance lobby and Harry saw rubies and sapphires spilling out from the shattered Gryffindor and Ravenclaw hourglasses and the people fighting in front of them stumbled and slipped to the ground as they poured out under their feet.
And, while Harry was looking at the door, Dumbledore walked into the room, wand drawn.
This was madness.
The thought came to Severus, even amongst this chaos, that he was surely not so high up in the Dark Lord's circle as he needed to be, if he had not thought to involve him or seek his counsel on – what appeared to be – a full scale attack on the school.
Well.
That would change after tonight.
Indeed, every Death Eater and werewolf supporter Severus was aware of appeared to be present, the only person not, the Dark Lord, himself.
If they weren't enough witnesses to what was due to occur, well, then what more could the Dark Lord ask for.
There were spells firing everywhere, shouts and thuds and screams of agony, as Severus – as he must to maintain his cover – fought on the side of the Order.
His own spells were non-lethal, as always, as they must be – as were the few Death Eaters who bothered to engage him, for they, too, believed it was all an act, for their own side – but for the others, the fighting was vicious.
Out of the corner of his eye Severus realized, in a panic, that Harry was still engaged in combat – Malachi, also – both of them attempting to fight off Bellatrix Lestrange – despite the fact Severus had just had to deflect a Killing Curse fired Malachi's way by said woman – neither demonstrating the good sense to run.
Above the screams that already filled the hall Severus heard it – Harry's agonized screams as he hit the floor – and it tightened and coiled in Severus' gut, the excruciation he could hear in his wails.
Severus fought back harder against Greyback – who was fighting him with far more intent than the Death Eaters who had contested him – meaning to go to the boys' aid.
A familiar sight of fiery red hair suddenly appeared in his line of vision, making his heart first leap and then sink.
Lily's frame shielded the boys from his view and she fired a spell at Bellatrix as she approached, furiously – Harry's cries coming to a halt – drawing the madwoman's attention to her new adversary; Lily practically snarled herself as she spoke each incantation, pushing her opponent back from their son.
Severus couldn't watch for long – couldn't wonder how on Earth he was supposed to do this with Lily there to bear witness to the act – as Greyback fought harder and the battle around him raged on far too ferociously for him to remain still.
Dumbledore was engaging three at a time as he made his way further into the room – almost with ease – and as he lifted a hand – his blackened, dead hand – the candles lining the hall lit up, burning bright, and, with a flick of his wrist, the flames fired at the three Death Eaters who fought him – one ducked for cover, while the other two hastily deflected the fire.
Mad-Eye yowled, set alight by one of those deflected, but it was quickly snuffed out and he fought on.
Severus' eyes found Dumbledore once more, seeing him take a place in front of the boys, carrying on engaging with ease any who dared approach them.
And Severus knew, then, as his old mentor took up a protective stance before them – shielding the boys, shielding Harry – whose death would eliminate the horcrux – from harm – that he had meant it, what he had said. That he truly had faith that Harry would survive, so long as the Dark Lord, himself, wielded the magic that would end him.
And Dumbledore would not allow another to harm him.
"Black!"
Severus' head flipped around at the snarl of a Death Eater behind him and, sure enough, Regulus was there, as well as Lily, and Severus knew, then, that he was surrounded by idiots this night, as two Death Eaters quickly advanced upon his friend – one of the more prized catches, aside from the two boys up ahead now behind Dumbledore – and Severus hit Greyback with a body-bind when he noticed Regulus begin to struggle to hold them off.
Severus was unable to help his little smirk of satisfaction at the thud of the werewolf's body hitting the floor behind him as he turned.
Severus flicked his wand, parrying with the second of the two who had approached Regulus, knowing that that, in itself, was risky. A bit too much like coming to an enemy's aid, rather than keeping up appearances, but he fought them all the same.
Soon, his loyalties would be beyond dispute.
His devotion to the Dark Lord unquestionable.
Obvious.
"Crucio!" sounded out behind him and someone hit the ground at his feet, screaming.
More agonized screams sounded around them and the flames of the candles that Dumbledore wielded flew in all directions, some deflected and some catching on the festive decorations that hung around the Hall, setting them alight and illuminating the room in a fiery glow, as flashes of blue and purple and green continued to fire forth.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The sickening sound of a body thudding to the ground behind him got his attention.
"NO!" Minerva's voice cried out, grief-stricken.
Severus hit his opponent harder, sending them stumbling a few steps back, before he flicked his wand again and knocked them to the floor, earning himself a moment.
He risked a glance over his shoulder at the fallen.
Charity Burbage lay dead on the ground.
Severus stared at her for a moment and then he turned.
His eyes found Dumbledore across the room.
Dumbledore, eyes pained as took in Charity's lifeless form, met Severus' gaze and – ever so slightly – inclined his chin.
She would be the first and the last. But him.
Severus swallowed, gripping his wand tight.
But, before Severus could approach, the Ravenclaw Table was suddenly hit – combusting behind him – and he felt himself fly forwards through the air – he and the others closest to him – as the force of the explosion hit them from behind and he landed in a heap at the other side of the hall, behind the Gryffindor table.
Severus reached up, his palm pressed to his cheek, and when he drew it back, he saw blood.
The form next to him moved, tossing over, and Severus glanced down at Regulus who had landed beside him.
Not bleeding, as Severus was, even if he did look a bit dazed as he groaned, pushing himself up on his arms.
Severus eyed him, a plan quickly forming, as he glanced back in Dumbledore's direction.
The best way to do this – to make it as believable as possible – as foolproof as they could – for he would lose his spot at the Foundation as well as at Hogwarts this night.
"Cover Dumbledore," Severus told him, quietly.
Regulus met Severus' eyes with a frown, before glancing over the edge of the table that concealed them, where they could see Dumbledore continue to engage multiple Death Eaters at time, while simultaneously wielding and influencing the flames of the candles and the alight decorations, face aglow with their light and fierceness.
Regulus shot him a look.
"I think he's covered."
Regulus winced as he sat up straighter, brushing off the bits of wood fibres that clung to his robes from the combusted table.
"Regulus."
Regulus stopped in his movements and looked back at him, immediately sensing something was amiss but, before anything further could be said between them, a Death Eater rounded the table and Severus promptly got to his feet and engaged him, while Regulus jumped up and over the table, heading to Dumbledore's side.
Severus fought the new opponent almost in a daze, knowing this was it.
It had to be done before another fell and, only then, would the Death Eaters retreat.
They daren't leave with nothing.
Severus fought off the Death Eater with ease, who backed off – bored – when Regulus made his escape, knowing that neither left behind could do anything to one another.
Severus approached where Dumbledore stood, Regulus now clashing with a Death Eater a few feet to his left.
Severus did not look at Lily as he passed, close enough that the familiar scent of her hair filled his senses, past all the flashes and the screams and the remorse that was already taking grip, before he'd even done it.
Severus lazily parried away the spells that were half-heartedly cast his way by Death Eaters as he walked up the hall.
He stopped several feet away from where Dumbledore stood.
It was close enough.
He dared not look at Harry, who remained some feet behind Dumbledore, fighting back-to-back with Malachi against the few adversaries who dared approach and face Dumbledore's wrath.
Kindly blue eyes met his. Grateful. Knowing, always knowing, that he would do as he asked.
Severus gazed at Dumbledore for a moment.
The battle still raged on around them, Dumbledore himself still wielding the flames – the look shared between them but a second - as their eyes met.
Severus tried to mean it.
He tried for hate. He tried for anger.
He tried for pain. He tried for grief.
They came easy.
All of them.
All he had to think about was this.
And then Severus gripped his wand tight and raised it, swiftly without hesitation, pointing it directly at Dumbledore.
"Avada Kedavra."
A jet of green light shot forth from Severus' wand, hitting Dumbledore square in the chest.
Dumbledore hit the ground.
Dead.
With his fall, the flames in the room went out, the room plunged into almost blinding darkness, all within the room now illuminated only by moonlight and everything and everyone – professor, student, Death Eater and Order member, alike – stopped.
A collective, deathly silence falling upon the room.
Time, itself, stopped with the death of Albus Dumbledore.
And all turned to look.
None – even Severus, himself – able to believe what had happened.
Severus could feel Lily's – everyone's – eyes upon him but, still, he couldn't look at her.
But his eyes found Harry's – forgetting, for a moment, where he stood behind Dumbledore's now-lifeless form – and the look in his boy's eyes, Severus was sure would haunt him for the rest of his life.
The silence was broken by an anguished cry of grief from Minerva – unrecognizable, almost inhuman – from the other side of the room, and it was quickly followed by a screech of triumph from Bellatrix, and then the voices sounded all at once – emotions heightened – and the battle resumed, even more ferocious than before.
The darkened room was filled once more with blinding flashes of light.
Severus looked at Regulus where he stood, exactly where Severus had told him to.
He was the closest to him of all the other Order members, though still some feet away, slack-jawed and expression aghast when their eyes met.
But – at the same time – Severus could see that he knew.
Regulus knew why it had been done and he knew why Severus had sent him to Dumbledore's side – so that he would be the closest, the Order member he would have to duel – and Severus waited, barely a second, before Regulus did as he must and fired a curse his way.
Severus fired back – no longer parrying as he had been before – and the two engaged one another, as brutally as either of them dared, matching one another blow for blow, with far more force than either had ever done in their offices while they had sparred this past year.
But they knew one another's moves well enough, now – able to read and anticipate the other – and so spell after spell after spell fired forth between them, flashes of light deflected this way and that, as they fought and moved, advancing and retreating, in the perfect appearance of true combat – if anyone had any doubt of Severus' loyalties, then this would surely convince them – and Severus let out an 'oomph' as he was thrown backwards, striking the table behind hard enough to wind him.
Severus fired another, Regulus stumbling back, and when he did Severus caught sight of Harry and Malachi behind Regulus – watching the scene, absolutely flabbergasted – as red and purple and blue lights flashed between them, getting faster and faster, gathering up momentum.
The same way as they did in the offices.
Severus met Regulus' eyes and, when he did, he saw Regulus brace himself – knowing what was coming, for Severus had to win this one – while Severus fired forth the next, with all his might holding back the urge to pull his punch – hitting Regulus square in the chest with a yellow light that sent him flying rearwards to the back of the room – no mattress to break his fall this time – before he landed in a crash – Severus could hear a bone snap from where he stood – up behind the Professor's table.
"DAD!"
Severus spun around – fighting the urge to wait and ensure he hadn't actually just killed him – making to leave with the now retreating and rejoicing Death Eaters but was quickly engaged by an absolutely furious Nymphadora Tonks, eyes flashing and face drawn with such determination that, for a moment, Severus could only see her mother.
Severus fought her when she proved merciless, unwilling to back off when he parried the first two spells, the two dueling, aggressively, until he hit her with a body-bind.
And when he turned, he came face to face with Lupin who looked just as furious, but also confused – not quite convinced by the display, it seemed – and Severus raised an eyebrow, flicking his wand and zapping a spell in his direction that Lupin deflected, for, of course, Severus could count on the witlessness of Remus-Bloody-Lupin to blow it all in these final moments.
The man didn't engage him.
Lupin only stared as Severus made his way past, heading from the Hall in a brisk walk, joining with the other Death Eaters, easily fighting off the spells that the others flung his way.
Lucius met his eyes looking both impressed and suspicious of him as Severus approached where the blond man stood at the door – for he was quite aware that Severus fathered Harry Potter's sister – but his old friend just smirked as he reached him, turning and the two of them walked side by side, joined by Bellatrix and Barty, and then Greyback, Alecto and Amycus.
The others were already well ahead, having already withdrawn.
"Come, Draco," Lucius' voice sounded beside Severus, as they stepped outdoors and he glanced to the side, seeing Lucius grasp his son by the scruff where Draco had been cowering outside the main doors to the Castle.
"No – I – I still have school –" Draco stuttered out, pulling back and trying to fight free of his father's grasp, while Lucius dragged him along.
"Don't be ridiculous, Draco."
Draco's eyes met Severus – glancing away within a millisecond – with a look no longer so haughty. No, instead – in that brief moment he had looked at Severus – he appeared utterly terrified, barely able to even maintain eye contact, as his father dragged him along at their side.
"Severus!"
He heard Minerva's voice screech behind him, and he turned, only just deflecting a spell she fired his way, with so much force that he stumbled back when he blocked it.
Mad-Eye followed on her heels, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore behind him, each of them continuing to fire spells – in pursuit of them – and the retreating Death Eaters turned and engaged, still carrying on in backwards steps from the grounds.
"Draco!"
Severus caught a glimpse of Draco slipping free from his father's grasp, running back in the direction of the Castle, dodging the spells that continued to fire between the two groups.
"Draco!"
There was a note of panic in Lucius' voice – one that Severus had never heard before – and Lucius made to step forward – to follow his son – but Draco ignored the calls of his father and shared a look with Minerva as he reached the door.
Minerva touched his shoulder, standing aside and the boy slipped indoors and out of sight.
Lucius roared, engaging the Order fighters who stood outside, ferociously – far more so that the rest of them - but all those who stood with him fired spells back at the few who had attempted to follow, until they eventually retreated back into the Castle, and the Death Eaters turned, striding from the grounds.
Victory theirs.
The Dark Mark still high in the sky above the Castle.
