Severus made a stop at Spinner's End to patch himself up and change into fresh clothes before returning to Hogwarts. The terrible pain in his body was only surpassed by the killing headache that the Dark Lord's brutal Legilimency had caused him, but at least he was still alive and —hopefully— no longer under suspicion.
It wasn't much of a comfort, but as usual he told himself that making a fool of the Dark Lord was worth all the pain involved. Even if only Severus knew that the arrogant bastard was being thoroughly fooled. He hoped he would get to see his master's face the day he realized that his inferior was actually vastly superior to him in mind magics.
What was he thinking? No, he definitely would rather not be still alive or at least not close enough to see his face when that day came.
He did itch to someday turn the tables and break into the Dark Lord's mind himself, though. Such mind would no doubt be a sickening place to be, but Severus would enjoy every single second he spent ruthlessly paying him back for all these headaches.
Back in Hogwarts, Severus paused at his study before hitting his bed. The wooden box was still over the desk, where he had left it for Dumbledore to find if Severus didn't return. Inside it was the diadem, with a sarcastic note attached warning the old fool not to put it on, and a letter confessing everything he had done these last few days. Just in case.
Part of Severus wished Dumbledore had returned earlier from wherever he was and come to snoop around his quarters like he sometimes did when he was worried or simply bored. He wished his treachery had been discovered, and that the old wizard would save the situation somehow, Dumbledore style.
Severus desperately wished to be stopped. But of course he was too bloody good at what he did, so no one would be able to stop him for as long as he lived. In fact, despite half-wishing to be discovered he had made sure that Dumbledore would not be able to get inside his private chambers at least until tomorrow morning, when Severus would have been either dead or here to keep the Headmaster from snooping.
He wondered to whom he would leave Horcruxes and confessions once his old mentor was gone. Perhaps directly to Potter? Because Severus was clear about that: without him to guide the boy along his new path, the brat would not stand a chance. If Severus died, at least at this stage, the best he could do for Lily's son was to let him know about the Horcruxes and about the piece of soul inside him, allowing the bloody Gryffindor to sacrifice himself instead of being captured and eternally held prisoner by the Dark Lord.
Severus lifted the wooden lid and stared at the silver diadem for several more minutes. He wasn't sure what to do with it. The safest course would be to immediately destroy it, in case he died tomorrow and failed to delegate the task to someone else, but Severus hesitated for several reasons. For one, he had the feeling that a Horcrux must not be something so easy to destroy. Dumbledore had broken the ring with the Sword of Gryffindor of all things, suggesting that all other methods had proven ineffectual (or that the old man had been delusional at the time). Fiendfyre would most likely do the trick, though, if Severus couldn't get his hands on the sword. But what if the Dark Lord could sense when a piece of his soul was destroyed? Then he would know that Severus had been lying. True, his master had seemed surprized when he had discovered that the ring had been destroyed, so perhaps he couldn't feel anything, but it was still a risk.
He would have to put some thought into it.
/
To his dismay, the Dark Lord summoned him again the very next night. Severus of course answered the summons without delay, but he was deathly afraid and he dearly hoped not to be tortured again so soon. His body needed time to recover, especially from the blood loss (Blood Replenishing Potions were a magical marvel, but not that magical), and frankly his mind also needed rest.
He was surprized —but also relieved— to find himself in a full inner circle meeting (although of course such circle was currently quite reduced, with so many Death Eaters still in prison) already gathered in the still standing drawing room.
More relieved he felt when the Dark Lord beckoned him to sit at his immediate right, to everyone in attendance's visible envy. Severus interpreted the honour as a sort of compensation for yesterday's "underserved" torture. Not an apology, though, never that.
He took his seat after giving a subservient nod at his master (he was not required to kneel nor kiss any hems if the Dark Lord was at the table) and offered Bellatrix the mandatory sneer. The other Death Eaters were just not at his same level, so he completely ignored them.
"Severus," greeted the Dark Lord with fondness, as if the crazy bastard had not almost killed him last night, or more exactly as if that didn't matter, "I was just about to inform your brothers and sisters —and noble host, of course," he added with a mocking bow in Narcissa's direction, "of our plans regarding the old fool. I assume you will be able to stick to the schedule?"
"Yes, my Lord," he replied, also as if nothing had happened or it didn't matter. "Dumbledore is away from the castle at the moment, but he doesn't usually absent himself for more than three consecutive days so I expect he will return before the week is over. I will have opportunity to kill him then, provided he doesn't set off again immediately."
Many eyebrows rose at his words, but no one reacted so strongly as Narcissa, who nearly burst into tears. Clearly she had not been informed about the change of plans. Severus met her grateful eyes but pretended complete indifference in the hope that she would pull herself together. Female weakness annoyed the Dark Lord to no end.
"I thought Draco was supposed to have a chance first," argued Bellatrix, scowling at Severus.
"Draco had seven months to perform his task," said their master coldly. "I will discuss his ineptitude with him personally during Easter break, but meanwhile Severus will take over the task and hopefully get it right."
"It will be done the way we discussed, my Lord," assured him Severus, making sure of sounding slightly offended at the suggestion that he could get anything wrong. "I have already procured the necessary supplies."
He deliberately avoided mentioning how exactly he was going to do it, and enjoyed (or pretended to enjoy, sometimes it was difficult —and unnecessary— to separate his real and fake feelings) to see the puzzlement and frustration on his fellow Death Eater's faces.
"Excellent," purred the Dark Lord. Bellatrix glared at Severus murderously, no doubt because it was extremely rare for their master to use such word.
On his part, Severus considered that if he failed to kill Dumbledore "on schedule" he better brace himself for another brutal session of torture next week, since the more excited the Dark Lord was about a plan the more furious he got when the plan failed.
"Does this mean that the McLaggen's assault is suspended?" asked Travers from his place at the middle of the table. He seemed to realize immediately that he had sounded too hopeful, because he paled and gulped and rushed to cover his mistake, "I mean, we're investing most of our resources on clearing our way to the McLaggens, my Lord, shouldn't we instead position ourselves to strike on Order members as soon as Snape blows his cover?"
The Dark Lord's red, dangerous eyes rested over Travers for a very long, very tense moment during which no one could help but to wonder what sort of punishment their fellow Death Eater was going to suffer later.
"No, Travers," said their master finally, a cruel smile curving his thin lips. "If all goes according to plan, Severus' cover will not be compromised yet. He will maintain his position as a spy inside Hogwarts and inside the Order of the Phoenix for a while longer, which means we will not yet strike openly on Order members... at least not members that we could only find or access thanks to Severus' information."
"My apologies, my Lord," said Travers with as much submission as he could infuse in his tone and attitude. "I didn't-"
"Dumbledore will appear to die naturally," cut him off the Dark Lord, still regarding Travers like a predator stalking a juicy prey. "So you will all act surprized. Not the slightest allusion to Severus' involvement is to be whispered outside of this room, do I make myself clear?"
There were frightened nods and ayes around the table. Severus noted that at least half his colleagues in darkness seemed almost as afraid of meeting his eyes as they were of meeting the Dark Lord's, and couldn't help but to feel pleased at that. He let it show baring his teeth slightly in what must be a terrifying facial expression. Of course, while his evil smile ensured that most Death Eaters would not cross him, the effect on Bellatrix was plainly an increased desire to cut him to pieces. He raised a challenging eyebrow at her and had to repress a snort when an angry vein seemed to almost pop in her temple.
The Dark Lord didn't miss this exchange, an amused smirk crossing his ugly face before continuing addressing Travers.
"As to the McLaggens, everything must be ready to strike during the Easter break, when the entire family will be home. The elder boy, however, Cormac, is to be captured alive. I want him to watch his family suffer and die before he is brought to me for a private chat."
Severus wondered what fate would befall to the unlucky bastard who did anything worse to Potter than accidentally hitting him in the head with a bat. He would have to make sure of warning Draco against antagonizing Potter from now on.
They discussed for a few more minutes the McLaggen slaughter, and then in more detail what would happen once Dumbledore was out of the picture especially in respect to the Ministry. Some were of the opinion that things would move faster, but the Dark Lord seemed content to wait until the summer to take over. Severus did his best not to think too far ahead yet, having enough with Dumbledore's murder, undestroyed Horcruxes, Order dealings and several months in Hogwarts with Potter to focus on for the moment.
Finally, everyone except Severus was dismissed, Narcissa casually brushing his arm and fiercely clasping his shoulder with her sharp nails as she filed out of the room. Silly woman! Either she refused to understand or she didn't care about the danger she was putting herself and Lucius in by acting so foolishly under the Dark Lord's watchful and sadistic eye. He supposed he should be more understanding, since she was just a woman caught between Death Eaters and whose home had been invaded by an evil wizard determined to torment her family, but it really just annoyed him. Especially since her recklessness might get Severus involved in something he didn't want to get involved, or Merlin forbid, dragged down to the Malfoys' current state of disgrace.
Hopefully Lucius would soon be free to take over his wife's protection. And his son's too. Lucius of course would not have power or credit enough to protect anyone, but at least he might be able to keep the Dark Lord's rage focused on him.
/
"Severus," began his master once they were alone. "Were you able to find out anything about the ring?"
"I was only able to confirm that Dumbledore is not wearing it anymore, my Lord. I judged unwise to inquire about it immediately after a meeting with you, but I might be able to ask before I kill him."
The Dark Lord shook his head.
"No, do not risk his suspicion. He won't tell you anything, anyway." He pursed his lips in irritation for a moment, and then shook his head again and waved the matter away as if it weren't important. "Tell me, Severus, will your plan be successful?"
"All plans are fallible, my Lord," answered Severus carefully. "I am confident that this one will go smoothly, but there is a chance that someone will suspect foul play and point in my direction. I also have to admit that the Muggle substance I will use could be detected using certain muggle techniques, if someone considered the possibility. I highly doubt anyone will, however."
His master nodded thoughtfully. Plainly he didn't like the idea of having announced a result to his Death Eaters that might not come to happen, but that was the risk of making promises and pre-announcements.
Fortunately, the Dark Lord seemed to be in a magnanimous mood today, at least in regard to Severus. Perhaps he felt bad for torturing him yesterday? Unlikely.
"If the plan went awry, Severus, you are to stay put and brave whatever comes. Plead yourself innocent. Worst case scenario, if you are arrested I will break you out in short notice."
"I appreciate the reassurance, my Lord," said Severus, feeling truly reassured and a bit smug at the thought that the Dark Lord would probably rescue him before he even reached the prison.
"And if the plan goes well..." continued his oddly reasonable master, "You will come to me when it's safe to do so without raising suspicions. I will require for you to give me access to the Black House."
Severus hesitated. So much for reasonable.
"I will be happy to share the location with you as soon as I become a Secret Keeper, my Lord," he said, "but I will be considered a traitor to the Order if I do so."
The Dark Lord waved his concern away.
"The Order doesn't have to know that I have the secret. You said that the place has been abandoned as Headquarters, no one will know if I visit." At Severus' nod of acquiescence, he added, "I will expect you to secure your position within the Order of the Phoenix, Severus. Handle that at your own discretion."
"I will, my Lord. I fear my usefulness as a spy will be more limited from now on, since few in the Order will trust me as blindly as Dumbledore, but I will at least make sure of retaining a position close to Potter."
"Do so," said his master in a mild, uncharacteristically non-threatening tone. "You may leave, then. We will speak again once Dumbledore is dead, to discuss how to proceed."
Severus left Malfoy Manor feeling unsettled. The Dark Lord's sudden mood swings were of course very familiar to him, but they usually involved going from manic glee to murderous rage and back again. Benign or reasonable moods were rare, and frankly Severus felt more comfortable with the crazy evil master that he knew perfectly well how to handle. This Dark Lord... this one was hard to predict.
Although he had to admit that if the Dark Lord were always like this it would be a much less unpleasant experience to serve him. Severus had the distinct impression that his master had been a lot more stable when he had taken the Dark Mark so many years ago. Not exactly sane —and certainly not less evil—, but saner. Now he suspected that the change was directly related to his mutilated soul.
Perhaps he shouldn't destroy the diadem just yet.
/
During the last week Severus had, in addition to his usual considerable workload, battled with severe internal conflict; turned traitor and condemned humanity to (hopefully) a hundred and fifty years of darkness; imperiused and obliviated several people including a student; met with the Dark Lord to be mind-raped, tortured and nearly killed five times; stolen a piece of his master's soul and smuggled highly regulated Muggle drugs to spike his mentor's tea.
He shuddered to think what he could do with a Time-Turner, and felt relieved that they had all been destroyed.
After such a busy week, his entire Self was looking forward to a good night of dreamless sleep, but instead Severus found himself patrolling the dark castle.
He knew that Dumbledore was not back yet, but he would return soon... to die.
Everything was ready. The plan was set, the method chosen, the order given. Severus had known for almost a year that this moment would eventually come, and he was now truly anxious to get the old man out of the way so he could start working on Potter, but some part of him still resisted to what was about to happen.
It didn't feel real.
Even when he had been a student bent on a dark course and full of hatred towards everything including the Headmaster, he had not been able to imagine Hogwarts without Dumbledore in it. The old wizard was just an integral part of the castle... and one of the few constants in Severus' turbulent life. He had always felt reassured by the idea that he could go to him for help at any time, and by the certainty that Dumbledore would not turn him away no matter how low Severus stooped.
From now on, there would be no one to give second chances. Or thirds.
###
Albus was enjoying reading One Hundred Years of Solitude (a fascinating Muggle novel he hoped to finish before he died) when the flames of his hearth flared green and Severus stepped into his sitting room. The man looked around with narrowed eyes before stalking towards a side table.
"You know, it is considered good manners," he growled as he snatched the last issue of Potioneers Without Borders, "to ask whether you can borrow something instead of just steal it away. Especially if you're going to disappear for three days and leave your Floo closed off."
"Oh, my," said Albus, unable to hold in a chuckle. "I do feel terrible, Severus. I completely forgot to give it back before I left the other day, you must forgive such lapses to an old man."
"Funny how you only seem to forget things when it suits you," said his young friend with a glare before turning back to the fireplace.
"Wait, Severus," called Albus, marking the page with a bookmark and putting the novel aside, "I was just about to order tea, would you care to join me?"
"I don't have time for tea, Headmaster," said Severus with annoyance.
"There is always time for tea," argued Albus as he mentally placed his order with the house-elves. "And what else are you going to do at one in the morning? Not sleep, plainly, nor read a magazine."
"I will patrol the castle, make sure Potter is not out of bed as usual," drawled the man with distaste.
"Come, Severus, indulge an old, dying man," said Albus. "I don't have many days left to enjoy your charming company."
Even when he had not yet had the moribund card to use, Albus had always managed to persuade Severus of joining him for tea after a brief stubbornness contest. Being currently dying only made it easier, he thought smugly when his words made the snarky Potions Master pause. While he busied himself with the tray that had just appeared on the coffee table —tea table, actually, he reflected—, Albus felt Severus' eyes on him, no doubt trying to assess whether he was in pain.
"I feel fine, Severus," he said mildly. "Come, sit."
After another pause, the man finally relented, but instead of sitting in his usual place he knelt in front of Albus and held out his hand impatiently. Albus sighed and surrendered his black hand for examination.
"Really, Severus, it barely hurts," he chided, although he felt touched by the man's concern. Severus was not nearly as heartless as most people thought.
"There is no need for you to spend your last days in pain," said Severus harshly as he prodded the hand with his wand and his fingertips alternatively, his work methodical and gentle despite his dark mood. "I told you to take as many pain relievers as you require, it's not like you have to worry about long-term side effects."
"I merely forget to take them sometimes," explained Albus. "I'm sure I would remember if it truly hurt."
Severus finished his diagnosis and let go of the withered hand, but he remained where he was staring at it with a hopeless frown on his sallow face.
"It will be fine, Severus," said Albus softly, patting his hand. "Do not stress yourself on my account, I am quite ready to move on."
The younger man pursed his lips and then turned around —no doubt to hide any vulnerability that might show in his face—, while Albus' heart broke a little more. He knew he would be missed, that many people cared about him and would grieve him, but he suspected Severus would be the most affected by the loss. Especially since he would be the one to kill him.
Finally, Severus pulled himself together and went to sit across from him, picking up the cup of tea that Albus had poured for him and re-heating it with a tap of his wand.
"I see you're not displaying that bloody ring anymore," he said dryly a moment later, pointing with his chin at Albus' uninjured hand. "Did you finally realize that it's not wise to wear cursed objects?"
"You're never going to forgive me for that, are you?" asked Albus as he picked up his own mug.
"Never," confirmed Severus. "And someday I plan to straighten out the history books so future generations will know that Albus Dumbledore was a fool after all."
"That tidbit would make my Chocolate Frog Card a lot more valuable," admitted Albus with a chuckle.
"Albus Dumbledore, considered by many the greatest wizard of his time, defeated by his weakness for shiny objects," drawled Severus.
Albus chuckled some more, really hoping his card would say something like that someday.
He at least hoped Severus' true involvement in his death would be eventually clarified. The man sitting in front of him deserved his own Chocolate Frog Card.
"You won't tell me, then?" asked Severus after a silent minute. "About the ring?"
Albus sighed.
"I'm afraid not," he said.
Severus's eyes flashed with annoyance, but a moment later he also sighed in resignation.
They continued sipping their tea in silence for a while longer. Severus looked troubled, noticed Albus, but that was hardly new. He wished he could say something to lighten the burden, some comforting words to ease the pain, but before he could make up his mind Severus had put down his cup and stood up.
"Thank you for the tea," he said, in such a solemn tone Albus thought he might be thanking him for more than just tea.
"It was my pleasure," he answered just as solemnly.
"Do not steal my magazines again," added Severus with a half-hearted scowl.
Albus chuckled as he watched him disappear in a whirl of green flames.