Chapter 25 - Once the line is crossed

Severus apparated to Spinner's End to shed off his Death Eater robes and mask before going back to Hogwarts, but instead of continuing on his way immediately as he should have done he found himself sinking in his father's old chair with a glass of Scotch in his hand.

He hated this chair. This house. Every ugly reminiscence of the remote past trapped by these decaying muggle walls. But right now he felt more at peace here than he would be at Hogwarts, where all his recent and imminent betrayals were waiting to haunt him. And he really needed peace to organize his thoughts and feelings.

He could almost hear Lily urging him to do something to protect the Muggle-borns and their families, to hide or at least warn them before the Dark Lord got his hands on their records.

What if it were me, Sev? What if it were my parents? You said you no longer believed in that blood purity crap.

Of course he no longer believed in that, but what could Severus do? He wasn't a bloody Gryffindor morally compelled to try to save everyone! And he couldn't risk warning the Order of Runcorn's mission, since he didn't trust Moody and the others to put Severus' cover first, as Dumbledore had done. And anyway, it wasn't as if they didn't suspect that the Ministry was being infiltrated, or that Muggle-borns and their families would be instant targets the moment the Ministry fell. Some had already left the country, others would follow if they were smart. Severus couldn't afford to worry about them.

His attention would be better focused on the latest Horcrux he had learned about. Slytherin's Locket. One piece of the Dark Lord's soul that somehow had ended up in Grimmauld Place and that probably had been found there by Dumbledore. The old man had at least known that the object was connected to Tom Riddle, considering that he had shown memories of it to Potter, so he would have recognized it at once if he had seen it at Grimmauld Place and he would have destroyed it as soon as he had suspected it was a Horcrux. Plainly the Dark Lord feared exactly that, and Severus was inclined to believe the same, but if at all possible it had to be confirmed.

The Dark Lord had given him the task —as if Severus didn't already have plenty to do— of making discreet inquiries in Knockturn Alley and other likely places where old relics and dark objects were traded, but Severus was hoping to be able to track down the locket in a more direct way. Interrogating Dumbledore's portrait about Horcruxes would be too risky at the present time, but Severus would at least take a look around the Headmaster's quarters before Minerva moved in just in case the old man had left the broken ring or locket lying around (unlikely as that was). He also, contrary to what he had said to the Dark Lord, knew exactly where the Black's house-elf was, and the creature no doubt would be able to confirm whether the locket had been in Grimmauld Place at some point in time. Furthermore, Severus knew that Molly Weasley had helped clearing out Headquarters, so she probably knew what had been done with the trash and might even have held the Horcrux in her hands before throwing it away.

Severus nodded to himself. Yes, he had several promising leads to follow regarding Slytherin's Locket. And to his relief it didn't seem as if the Dark Lord expected the object to be found so Severus probably would not be tortured if he returned from his inquiries empty-handed.

He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling beyond exhausted. So many things to do! His life had already been stressful and complicated before he had turned traitor, but now he felt as if he were juggling too many plots and lies and he had put himself in a position that made dropping any single one a catastrophic possibility.

It would be a lot easier if he had simply changed sides, but he hadn't, not really. He was still more loyal to the Order of the Phoenix than to the Dark Lord, and that was bound to be a horrible source of conflict when he was revealed as a traitor and sent to hunt down his fellow members. Just as it would be a hard ordeal to have to punish or even kill Muggle-born children when the Ministry fell and he became Headmaster. Of course all that would have happened anyway if Severus had not betrayed Dumbledore and murdered him prematurely, but it was a very different prospect now that he was secretly sabotaging the light.

It would be easier if he stopped clinging to a side he had already betrayed and just... embraced the darkness.

Severus closed his eyes and allowed himself to consider that possibility. He already had the position of power next to the Dark Lord, a position he was naturally suited for. His hands were already covered in blood, and whatever progress he had managed to make in the last sixteen years cleaning his conscience had been completely undone in the last few weeks.

Dumbledore was dead, Lily was dead, any hope of redemption was lost. To have a conscience from now on could only make things harder for him. If he gave up any pretence of being a decent human being, however...

Severus opened his eyes and shook his head in self-disgust. Since when did he choose the easiest way? Since when did he shy away from his own conscience? He had made a terrible decision, but that didn't mean he had to give up on everything remotely decent within himself.

Spending so much time in his master's presence lately was having a deep negative effect on him —especially since he no longer had Dumbledore's bright influence to counteract all the darkness he was constantly exposed to—, but Severus was stronger than this. He was just having a bad day, what with the funeral this morning —which had been an emotional affair even if it had also been boring and pompous— and his meeting with the Dark Lord this afternoon.

His real, conflicted Self was still somewhat fused with his Dark Persona, that was all, fake and true memories and feelings swirling chaotically within his mind and heart now that his defences were down.

So Severus closed his eyes again and called on his self-discipline to restore order within himself. He sorted between his feelings, locking away the nastiest ones and reframing those that would remain even if they were ugly or problematic. Wishing as usual that it were possible to fool the Dark Lord with just a blank mind and face. But no. Maintaining his dark cover required expert Legilimency and superb acting skills, as well as the ability to dissociate his own mind and heart to be feeling and thinking two opposite things at the same time.

And then there was the stress that fake memories brought to his mind. Not only it was mentally exhausting to manufacture them, it was also difficult not to sometimes get confused himself holding them in the same mental space than his true memories. Right now, for instance, he could simultaneously remember two different versions of the same Order meeting, and at first thought he couldn't be certain as to how many members had attended or who had said what. Trying to separate the memories was giving him a headache, and that only increased the irritation he felt for having put so much effort in modifying such a long a memory that he hadn't needed to use after all. Of course he preferred to go to the Dark Lord over-prepared than to be forced to improvise on the spot, but it was still vexing.

It was also nearly impossible not to be affected by the emotions that came with the fake images. Like the murderous arousal associated to the memory of savaging his little treat.

Severus shook his head again and shove the fake memory away. He would not get aroused remembering something that he hadn't done and that he was ashamed of being able to imagine at all. Bad enough was what he had actually done to the girl. That memory he was also ashamed of, but he would not lock it away and pretend it had never happened. He might not be the depraved monster his master and fellow Death Eaters believed he was, but he was still despicable and he would not try to deny that to himself.

It worried him, though, to have stooped so low. Refusing the Dark Lord's gift had not been an option, of course, but it had not been necessary to accept it for real. Performing Death Eater shit only when it was absolutely necessary to do so to maintain his cover was what had always (since he had changed sides, that is) set Severus apart from his master and colleagues in darkness, but he had crossed the line between necessary and unnecessary the other night and that worried him.

He feared now that he was on the other side of that line it would be too easy for him to do it again. To do even worse next time.

Next time.

His cock twitched at the thought.

Severus had seen it often enough, and had gone through it himself once, to know what was happening to him. And he knew that being aware would not be enough to stop the snowball rolling, not when he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to stop.

That was the way of corruption.

/

He managed to get back into the castle and down to the dungeons without being noticed by any Aurors or students, but he didn't have the same luck avoiding Minerva seeing that she was waiting for him in his private quarters.

The new Headmistress was sitting on his coach reading a magazine with a cup of tea in her hand, the image so very similar to the last time Dumbledore had been in his quarters that for a moment Severus stood frozen, overwhelming guilt and shame and grief crashing over him.

"I'm not sure if I have ever said it in so many words..."

"Severus?

"... but I'm proud of you."

"Severus, are you all right?" Minerva had rushed to his side and was looking him up and down in concern, her hands fluttering like butterflies around him as if she wanted to feel his forehead or take his pulse or Merlin forbid, hug him. "Are you hurt? In pain? Should I call Poppy?"

"Stop fussing, woman!" he growled, annoyance quickly pushing aside the recent turmoil. He swept past her before she could put a finger on him and went to fix himself another drink.

"What do you need, Severus?" insisted Minerva solicitously, trailing after him. "Pain reliever? Calming Draught? Blood-replenish-"

"Perhaps you should take a Calming Draught," he snapped. "I'm fine, Minerva, I don't need medical attention and I definitely don't need to be mothered. What I do need is for you to go away or at least shut up."

Minerva didn't go away, and her silence only lasted a few seconds.

"You can't blame me for worrying," she said with irritation, although her anxiety was still evident. "I know that when you're summoned in the middle of the day you're usually in a bad shape afterwards, that's why Dumbledore always-"

"Being the new Headmistress doesn't make you the new Dumbledore, Minerva," he cut her off harshly. "You don't have to do everything that he did nor in the same way."

"Someone has to check on you," she said stubbornly. "What if you return seriously hurt? I know you have in the past, and you would have died if-"

"I can't Floo in anymore, so now I have to walk all the way from the gates to get here. Assuming I manage to Apparate anywhere near Hogwarts, someone will find my broken body and levitate it to the Infirmary or to a very cold storage room." He saw his colleague lose whatever colour remained in her face, and sighed. When he next spoke his voice was somewhat softer, although he was still annoyed with the entire situation and his headache was demanding silence. "I will be fine, Minerva. My position next to the Dark Lord is now a lot more secure than it used to be, at this point I would only be seriously harmed if he suspected my betrayal, and then I would not come back at all so you would only have to worry about finding a new DADA teacher. Which is something you should start thinking about at this point of the year in any case," he added in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Judging by her scowl, Minerva didn't appreciate the reminder. All his colleagues had been concerned when Severus had been assigned the DADA position at the beginning of the year, but Potter's declaration the other night had made Minerva, Pomona and Filius seriously afraid for him as well as inconveniently curious in regard to why Dumbledore had given him a cursed job and just what Severus intended to do next year.

Fortunately she refrained from expressing her DADA worries again, although it was clear in her eyes that bringing up the curse had only increased her anxiety.

"You weren't tortured, then?" she asked him seriously.

"Not at all," said Severus casually. "The Dark Lord hasn't tortured me in over three days, and he only tried to kill me once this month."

Minerva stared at him uncertainly, plainly trying to figure out whether he was messing with her. She seemed to decide he was, because in the end she rolled her eyes and some of the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. Severus filled another glass with Scotch and handed it to her before sitting in his favourite armchair and gesturing for her to get comfortable too.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. When Minerva was not fussing nor freaking out she was actually less annoying to have around than Dumbledore had been, and Severus didn't really want to be left alone right now. He suspected that not wanting to be alone either had been half the reason why Minerva had been waiting for him in his quarters today. She had been a real mess that morning at the funeral, although the need to maintain a dignified demeanour as the new Headmistress had forced her to rein in her tears while in public. Pomona or Poppy would no doubt be far more comforting company than Severus could ever be, but it didn't surprize him that she had sought him out instead. After all, Dumbledore had been Minerva's mentor too.

"Dumbledore asked to see you, again," she said after long minutes, her voice breaking the silence and the peace. "He said it's important that he speaks with you."

"I have better things to do than engaging in conversation with portraits," he drawled. "So kindly tell the old man to stop asking."

"You will have to face him eventually, Severus," she said sternly. "You can't avoid my office forever, and it really sounded as if he had something important to say to you."

"Anything of importance we already discussed when he was alive," he assured her. "He just wants to ask me how am I holding on and such emotional nonsense. Tell him I'm fine and busy."

Minerva sighed in exasperation.

"What about Harry?"

Severus tensed, although he remained outwardly relaxed.

"What about the brat?" he asked neutrally.

"Today he asked me for permission to talk to the portrait privately," she said. "I told him it wasn't a good time and sent him away. But he will ask again, Severus, and frankly I don't understand why I should deny him."

He sighed.

"It is easy to understand, Minerva. The boy needs to accept that Dumbledore is gone. That will never happen if he makes a habit of talking to the portrait."

"It doesn't have to become a habit," she argued. "But he needs some closure, Severus. An opportunity to say and hear better last words, to receive one last advice. And it's not just Harry. Dumbledore has also asked to speak with the boy privately, he-"

"He's dead," said Severus bluntly. "The old wizard twinkling his eyes at you from his frame is not the real Dumbledore, Minerva, you would do well to remember that too. Albus Dumbledore is dead and buried, gone."

Saying those words was painful, but Severus forced himself to ignore the raw emptiness he felt. He had to be firm and assertive if he hoped to keep Minerva McGonagall in line.

"I know that he's dead," she said sadly. "But the portrait is there for a reason, to advice his successors, so why should I ignore him?"

"Because he is not advising you," said Severus harshly. "He is giving you orders, and you are so used to obey anything he says that you won't even stop to think for yourself. You will never settle in your new position if you allow Dumbledore's portrait to direct everything you do as if you were still his Deputy, Minerva."

"I know, I know!" she wailed, her eyes bright with tears but not allowing herself to break yet. "It's hard, all right? It's hard to be in that office with him right there looking so... I know it's not really Dumbledore, but I honestly can't tell the difference, he's exactly as he was, and he knows the same things, and-"

"And he's not real," cut her off Severus. "Portraits are frozen in time, unable to change or adapt, and that makes them unsuitable to make decisions of any kind. Dumbledore's portrait can't help giving you orders and trying to have a finger in every pie because he died being a controlling old meddler, but the real Dumbledore knew he would stop being in charge the instant that he died and he made sure other real people were ready to take charge after him. He left Hogwarts in your hands, Minerva, and Potter in mine, and he trusted us to know how to handle our new responsibilities without running to his portrait for help."

Minerva produced a handkerchief to dry any evidence of her weakness.

"You might be right, Severus," she sniffed after a quiet minute. "But it would be foolish of me not to listen to the portraits at all. As a new Headmistress I will need guidance."

"Hardly," he said. "You have been Deputy Headmistress for over two decades, Minerva, you know better than Dumbledore how to run this school. I'm not saying that you shouldn't listen to any portraits, merely that you should restrict their advice to school-related matters. If you let him, Dumbledore's portrait will try to use you as his living proxy, sending you on errands and making you bring people to him so he can give those people orders too. I at least am not willing to be moved around by a painted canvas and I strongly advise you not to let him move you either."

Severus wondered if he would have allowed Dumbledore's portrait to order him around if he had never become a traitor. Probably.

"I understand what you're saying, Severus," said Minerva, still looking uncertain, "and I appreciate the advice, but... I am a member of the Order as well as Headmistress, and Dumbledore —the real Dumbledore— told us to trust Harry. If the boy says he needs to speak with the portrait..."

"Potter is currently disorientated," said Severus. "He doesn't know what to do so he's seeking Dumbledore's guidance as usual. But he needs to learn to trust my guidance instead. He will never do that if he puts more weight on a portrait's advice."

She sighed.

"I understand. But... it just doesn't feel right to deny Harry's request."

Bloody Gryffindors and their annoying "sense of what's right".

"Then arrange a meeting but make sure the portraits are not allowed to speak," he suggested. "That might even be better, since being ignored by Dumbledore's portrait will force the boy to give up on any hope of help from that source."

"That would be cruel," said Minerva with a frown. "Unnecessarily so. Why not allowing him to speak with the portrait once? You're worried that the boy will not accept you as his new mentor, what better way of getting him on board than having Dumbledore's portrait endorsing your claim? I can arrange a meeting for the three of you together..."

"Haven't you heard anything that I have been telling you?" snapped Severus irritably. He was running out of arguments and Minerva only looked more and more determined. "Dumbledore is DEAD. I will not take orders nor suggestions from a portrait, and I don't want Potter engaging with it either. The boy is my charge now, and this is the way I want to handle it."

Minerva pursed her lips, her eyes hard.

"You know that I support you, Severus," she said. "I have no doubt that you will do your best to prepare Harry. But being a mentor is about more than just efficient training. The boy will need emotional support as well, and I'm sorry but I don't think you will even try to give him that." She took a deep breath and seemed to brace herself. "I will not deny Harry the chance to speak with Dumbledore at least one last time, even if it's only a portrait."

The stubborn Gryffindor raised her chin and looked at him defiantly, and Severus knew there would be no way to change her mind. He sighed.

Why couldn't you just do as you were told, Minerva?

He poured himself another measure of whisky and gulped it down in one.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," he said with feeling. "I have been under a lot of stress lately, and today was a particularly hard day."

"It has been hard for everyone," she said, her eyes softening at the unusual apology.

"I have always respected you, you know?" he continued. "Even when you were my teacher and I hated you on principle for being the Head of Gryffindor."

The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement.

"I know, Severus."

He nodded.

"I hope..." he took a deep breath. "I hope someday you will find in your heart to forgive me."

Minerva looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Imperio!"