A/N: Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, and all denizens of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, as well as Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters… Ah, Hell, everything belongs to JK Rowling in this chapter except for Antonia and a couple of others. (But if she wants the others, she can have them.)
I'm sorry to say, this chapter took a lot out of me. I'm going to take a break… Not a long one, maybe a week or so. I just know that, after this, I can't do this anymore. Not when I have a hard time sleeping over what I've written, or when it takes almost a full pack of cigs to get through writing a chapter. So, in a couple of weeks at the most, I'll be refreshed and ready to embark on the third section of this fic. J
The Wicked Day actually belongs to Mary Stewart. It's the fourth book of her five book Arthurian saga.
Amanita: Um, Amanita is presently being psycho with her husband, so she's not too interested in what a blond slut has to say?
Snape's Girl: A bad man, huh? Damn, but you know how to censor yourself…
W&m_law: Hmm… I'm not really sure if he can or not, but he certainly does try.
Prue Halliwell & Tessie: Um, well, I can't really say anything more than read along, and your question will be answered.
Tempesta: It's not nice to gloat! Thanks so much for being my beta reader, my muse, my… blah, blah, blah. I'm just going to have to make a Tribute for Tempesta as a permanent feature in my bio. And, of course, thanks so much for letting me use your poem Afterlife at the end. (It's available for review on ff.net, btw, guys… Okay, shameless plugging over.)
Tom Riddilpley: ff.net has been being evil again. It never did update my fic on the listings… sigh I might have gotten some more reviews if it had actually cooperated. grumbles something about evil bastards
Gryffindor: I'll only slap you if you promise to like it. evil grin
Sling the Newsie: Ask and ye shall receive.
Katie Weasley: Bad Katie! Bad! Bad! laughing I caught that little subliminal message, and it wasn't very nice! However, on that note, this chapter is for you, for giving the most facetious, smart-alecky review that I've ever seen in a fic. (Mine or anyone else's.) You certainly did give me a laugh. tries to look stern Now don't say mean things like that anymore. fails miserably
Roll of honor: Amanita Lestrange, Snape's Girl, w&m_law, Prue Halliwell, Tempesta, Tessie (honorable mention to Candace for reviewing 15… hope she's caught up), Tom Riddilpley, §phinx, Gryffindor, Sling the Newsie, and Katie Weasley
"And now, on to our regularly featured program." J
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He'll have to torture you to death… or he'll die… Over and over again, those words burned in her ears.
Antonia Snape threw herself face down in the pillows and sobbed. Not polite little sniffles, but awful, heart breaking, gut wrenching, hiccupping sobs. The kind of tears that were shed when a world was falling apart.
She wrapped her arms around her tiny little bulge, sobbing over and over again, "I'm sorry… I'm so very sorry…" There was this tiny little baby who would never have a chance. She was dead, she knew it. At this point, it was just a matter of when… and how. There was no way that this baby could live without her. Not yet.
Severus… "Oh, God," she sobbed. "He'll die. He'll kill himself if the Dark Lord doesn't do it, first. This can't happen…"
She fished in her pockets and pulled out a very small bottle. "What a wonderful poison," she sniffled, a half smile spreading across her face. She remembered the passion that she felt when she made this evil witch's brew; she remembered the passionate lovemaking that she and her husband had done that very day. But most of all, she remembered his hot tears on her breasts when he told her how he loved her.
Antonia popped the cork on the bottle and watched a hideous green vapor rise. "I love you, Severus," she whispered. Hesitantly, she drew the bottle up to her lips.
"Ugh!" Antonia pulled it away quickly. Her sense of self-preservation was kicking in, screaming at her to throw it, to shatter it, to destroy the precious potion in her hands. Mentally, she shook herself. Now was no time for selfish survival. "You've got to do it, Antonia," she said out loud, trying to convince her self. "You're dead, either way. This way, at least you get to keep a little self-respect. It will be quick. It will be painless. Just like drifting off to sleep…"
Her lower lip trembled as her face crumpled to tears. "I don't want to die! God damn you, Malfoy!" She closed her eyes and pictured Severus. She could see the anguish on her husband's face when he was told to torture her. Even worse yet, she could see the life of torment looming before him, should he comply and then survive.
"I'm sorry, Severus," she sniffled. "I'm being selfish… I know that I'm dead, either way. I can't let them do that to you…" She let out an anguished whimper. "I told you that I'd die for you, Severus… It's time for me to prove it."
She closed her eyes and brought the bottle to her lips. Swallow it quick; this is your only shot…
The potion trickled down her throat and settled in her stomach. She felt the warmth of the potion seeping through her. Almost instantaneously, she felt sleepy, so very, very sleepy…
Severus…she thought, there's so much more that I wish I could tell you… I left you a little gift, darling… I just hope you find it. She yawned, a wide, generous yawn, and felt her head spin. So very, very sleepy… Antonia lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes. Her dreams were filled with Severus and their son…
Right up until her breathing slowed and her heart stopped.
* * *
Severus broke off in the midst of their haggling over details. His arm… the Mark… it felt like it was on bloody fire. "It doesn't matter what we have planned," he forced out through gritted teeth. He pulled up the long sleeve of his robe and showed Dumbledore the Dark Mark on his arm, now burning as black as Death.
Severus stood to his feet and shook Dumbledore's hand. "Sir, I thank you… You've always been a good friend to me. You… Your friendship has been invaluable." Severus turned and walked out the door without another word.
Severus looked nothing like a hero out to save the day. No, he looked like a man that was on his way to meet his executioner, with no fear in his eyes. It was the look of a man that was doing what needed to be done. He didn't have to do this because he was a great man or a beloved hero out to restore peace and understanding to mankind. The appreciation and validation of his peers didn't matter. No. Severus Snape was doing simply what he was born to do. He'd lived by cunning and violence. Now, he was prepared to die the same way, if necessary.
Severus was halfway down the hall when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Wait!" a voice demanded.
Snape turned and looked back at Sirius Black, rushing to catch up with him. "What do you want, Black?" he sneered. There was no time for this nonsense. Lord Voldemort had just summoned him. That meant that he was to be there now.
"I know that I can't go with you, but I wanted you to know that I'll be waiting for you to bring her home. Just take this with you, in case you need it."
Severus looked down and saw a little thing that looked like a moldy dog biscuit in Sirius's hand. "One of you treats?"
Black glared. "It's a portkey, dumb ass. It will take you back." He put the biscuit in Snape's left hand, which he promptly shoved in his pocket. The potions master turned and began his lonely walk into the abyss.
"Hey, Snape!" Black called again.
Severus paused and faced Sirius.
"And, uh… Well, good luck." Black stuck out his hand and Snape took it.
Only for a second. As soon as their flesh made contact, both pulled away as soon as possible. I suppose a lifetime of hatred is too much to overcome, Severus thought, his lips twisting into a bitter sneer.
It took him nearly thirty minutes to make it back to the Dark Lord's lair.
"Severus, honestly… As long as it takes for you to make it here, I'm beginning to consider summoning you around an hour before I want you," the Dark Lord remarked coldly.
"I'm sorry, master, it couldn't be helped. I was back at Hogwarts, you see…"
"Ah, yes… Your lovely wife, I assume?" Voldemort spat.
This rattled him, but Severus's glittering black eyes revealed nothing.
"You traitorous bastard… You have betrayed me, haven't you?" Voldemort spit on Snape's crouched form. "To think I once called you my son."
He felt the urge to lift the hem of Voldemort's robe and wipe the white ball of spit off of his heavy black robes, but wisely decided against it. "I haven't betrayed you, my lord," he murmured coolly, his eyes respectfully downcast. "I would never. I value my family too much for such stupidity."
"Prove it," Voldemort sneered.
"What am I to do?"
"Quite simple. I have a prisoner, captured just for you. I expect you to torture her until she is dead. This will be no merciful event. I expect her to die screaming." His glassy red gaze turned to two other hooded Death Eaters. "Crabbe, Goyle, bring her. Leave her unharmed."
The two hulking figures in hoods marched out, resembling two very large trolls. Absently, Severus found himself wondering why their knuckles weren't dragging the floor.
Moments later, they returned. One of them was holding a tiny woman with long blond hair. He cradled her like a fragile baby.
The woman was incredibly limp in posture in the Death Eater's arms. She looked so peaceful, so…
"I told you not to harm her! Knocking her unconscious does not fall under that category!" Voldemort screamed in his high pitched, pre-adolescent girl voice.
"Didn't, master," the empty handed one grunted. "Found her like that."
"What!" Voldemort marched over and lay his reptilian fingers on her creamy white throat. His shoulders sagged, the Dark Lord mumbling something about incompetence and Cruciatus Curses.
Snape tensed, only being able to take in the scene from the corner of his eye. It couldn't be…
"Take her to Snape," the Dark Lord ordered.
Crabbe or Goyle carried the woman to Snape and lay her before him.
"Look what I have for you, my son," the Dark Lord boasted.
Black eyes drank in that creamy skin, the silken hair… "No," he choked, his voice filled with disbelief as he glided his fingers across that skin. She was so cold… Severus touched his fingers to his wife's beautiful, soft throat that he'd loved to kiss… That familiar throbbing of her pulse… He felt his hands tremble, tears stung his eyes… "Antonia!" he screamed, shaking her.
No! This can't be happening! If he held her and rocked her enough, she'd wake. She had to. He loved her; he needed her…
The Death Eater spy gathered his wife in his arms, smoothing back her hair. "Please, darling… Don't leave me…" One wet, salty tear struck her face. Antonia didn't flinch; she made no effort to wipe his tear away.
She never would.
At that realization, Snape sobbed in earnest, his whole body racked with agony. He wanted to scream, to howl, to demand the Fates give her back. He did none of that. He could make no sounds, save the occasional whimper coming from his throat. She, his life, his love, was gone.
He lovingly brushed his warm lips against her icy pale ones. "Let's go home, my Antonia," he whispered.
He heard the high, cold laugh of the Dark Lord. "Not yet," the monstrosity hissed. "You only leave when I say you do." He flicked his wand in Snape's direction and hissed, "Crucio!"
Snape fell to the floor, feeling his limbs twitch and thrash and burn. This pain was nearly tolerable. He welcomed it; he appreciated it. Now, the ache in his soul had manifested itself to the realm of the physical. He heard anguished screams, and realized that those screams were his own.
How long it lasted, he didn't know, nor did he care. It felt endless, the pain rolling through his body, seeming to crescendo to its limits, only to go higher, more agonizing… Every nerve ending felt as if it were ready to explode from the fiery intensity of the curse. Higher, higher, higher… Severus welcomed it. More, his aching soul wanted to scream. Send me to eternity to be with her!
As the world began to grow black around him, he felt himself falling… falling… falling… falling to oblivion, into the void. Then, it stopped.
The soft light of the candles brought his eyes back into focus, yanking him out of the peaceful state of nothingness that had been so close. Severus blinked and groaned. He was quite disappointed to find himself still alive.
There it was, that cruel laughter. "You think I'd let you die, traitor? Oh, no, that would never do… It's far, far more punishment to let you live, now that you know what your life has become." The reptile kicked him with a leather boot, sending a tiny flicker of the pain that held him near the throes of death only seconds before.
"You are no longer my child. You are now one of them, the filthy muggle lovers who would sully the bloodlines of wizardry to the point of nothingness. Go; be with your own kind. Mourn the loss of your beautiful whore. Knowing how you ache is such a wonderful punishment." The Dark Lord's laughter rang in his ears as Snape cradled his wife in his arms.
"I'll take you home, darling," he whispered comfortingly to her. He scooped her body up in his arms, clutching her against his aching chest as if she were the most precious thing his life had ever known.
But, of course, she was.
He staggered out of the house and into the snow, doing his best to shield his wife from the cold. Finally, he found a place out of the wind.
The portkey, he thought. Snape pulled the smelly biscuit out of his pocket. He felt the familiar sensation of being pulled at from the navel, flying, and generally being yanked around.
He landed back in Sirius Black's bedchamber.
"What's happened?" Sirius demanded, seeing Antonia's head loll backward in Severus's embrace.
Gently, Severus lay her down on the sofa, paying no mind to Black. He just looked at her, and stroked her hair.
Hesitantly, Black approached. He reached out and took one of her hands. "Gods, she's cold. Moony, get some blankets!"
"She doesn't need blankets anymore," Severus whispered.
Black stilled, getting the meaning of Severus's words, but hoping he was wrong… "What are you talking about?" Black choked.
"I'll go get Dumbledore," Lupin informed them, using his trademark so-very-soothing voice.
Remus Lupin quietly closed the door behind him.
"What the Hell are you talking about, Snape?" Sirius demanded, more fire behind his words.
Severus simply shook his head. He couldn't speak. Not when his throat was so miserably tight, so tight that it was a challenge to breathe. Instead, he rested his head on her breast, yearning to hear her heartbeat. It also served the dual purpose of concealing his tears from Black.
Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin entered the chamber together, closing the door and entering the room as silently as Lupin had left it.
Dumbledore looked at the scene before him with sadness in his blue eyes. "I'm so sorry, Severus," he offered, regret filling his voice.
Severus could only choke at those words. What does one say when his entire raison d'être is gone? There are no words for that. Just an emptiness. The gut wrenching sense of nothingness, that sick sense that nothing will be happy again.
Sirius shook his head. "She's not dead! She's not! It's Draught of the Living Death, it's a really strong sleeping potion, it's anything but that!" He was shouting at Dumbledore, his deep voice booming through the room from the sheer volume of it.
The old headmaster, in spite of the many deaths that he had seen from his days as an auror, could only hang his head sadly. Severus Snape, however, clung to his wife as if she may return at any time.
Albus knelt beside his young friend and put a withered hand on his shoulder. "Severus," he murmured kindly, "You really should let us take her to Madam Pomfrey…"
"No," he hissed, tightening his arms around his fallen bride. "You won't take her from me. He already did that. Everything that I've done for her, everything that I've done against the Dark Side is meaningless. I'm out, Voldemort has determined that I betrayed him. The bastard took her from me because of it. This," he said, holding her hand against his face, "is all that I have left of her."
"She's gone, Severus. She's not there anymore. You need to remember that she'll always be with you, even though she has shuffled off this mortal coil."
His face crumpled. "What about our baby? Where will our baby be?"
Dumbledore didn't have an answer for that.
Lupin, however, did. "The baby is with her, Severus. She didn't die alone." He swallowed hard. His own grief seemed to be tightly under wraps, however. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.
Sorry, Severus thought. That has to be about the most meaningless fucking word on the planet. It's very nice for someone to be sorry, but that the end of the day, that word has done nothing. Nothing changes. Everything is still gone, my wife is still… He broke off in his thoughts and let out a single sob.
That one sound spoke volumes to the three other men in the room. There was no doubt in anyone's minds how very lost Severus Snape was now, that he loved Antonia Delaney Snape with every fiber of his being. Severus had lost everything.
He looked up at Sirius Black. "You were right, Black," he remarked bitterly.
Black bestowed Snape with a quizzical glance that did nothing for the misery across his face.
Severus continued, "She should have been with you. If she'd left me and gone to you, she'd still be here. I'd rather her be alive and with someone else, just where I can see her and know she's happy than have her gone because she refused to leave me."
Black's eyes filled with unshed tears. "She'd never leave you. I tried so hard, Snape. I wanted her to love me, but she never did. Said she couldn't, she loved you. Said she loved you enough to die for you if she had to. Me? I was just a friend, that clownish sidekick that would amuse her. Never wanted anything more than that, though Gods know that I offered her the world… Or, at least, as much of it as my Gringott's vault could provide."
"Severus," Dumbledore began gently, "You really do need to let us take her up to the hospital wing. Minerva and I will arrange a service for her. We'll take care of all the arrangements. But it's time, son. It's time to let her go. We'll take her to Madam Pomfrey together…"
Snape nodded dumbly. He could, he supposed, have used his wand to carry her, but it just didn't seem right, to give up this last chance to hold her. Using the traditional method that never failed any man, be he mage or muggle, Severus scooped his Antonia up in his arms.
Her head had fallen softly against his shoulder, her beautiful blond hair brushed against his arms. God, she was beautiful.
The trip to the hospital wing was over all too quickly. Poppy, of course, was her brisk and effective self. "Put her down on the bed, please, Severus?" she instructed briskly.
Severus shrank away from the school healer. "No. You can't fix this, Poppy! Why the Hell should I give her to you? Give her to you, like she's some sort of thing, like she's a spare bit of parchment or potion! You're asking me to leave you with my wife!"
At that, Severus sank on to the bed, still holding her, rocking back and forth with her arms. "God, Antonia, why? Why did he take you from me?"
She paused. "Oh, Severus, I…"
Dumbledore touched her arm gently. "Poppy, why don't you leave Severus and me for a few minutes?"
She cast a sympathetic glance at the potions master and nodded. Madam Pomfrey left the room in silence.
The headmaster sat beside his young friend. He remembered so many things about Severus growing up. Albus had seen many students through the years and watched them grow. Not many of them stayed by his side like Severus did. Not many of them would call him friend. Role model, yes. But never friend.
"I know," Albus whispered.
"It feels like Lily all over again, but a thousand times worse. We were happy." Severus took a deep breath. "Can I tell you a secret?" he whispered, his sobs subsiding for a moment.
"You know that you can tell me anything," Dumbledore promised.
"When Antonia said that she loved me for the first time…" He hesitated for a moment, "When she said that, it was the first time that I could remember being really, truly happy since Lily died. Now why will I be happy?"
Albus was sick at heart for the colleague that had been like a son to him. "Poppy's made something for you to drink, Severus. You'll need to take this," Dumbledore instructed.
Snape nodded stupidly and downed the beverage. After that, everything grew hazy until he remembered nothing more.
Afterlife
Quicksilver
caress, she floats
In a fjord of
lilac petals.
Silver sky and
emerald hills
Surround the
slumbering refugee
Of a not so
peaceful world.
Dream on, little
darling.
Dive deep and
behold
A turquoise
paradise lit
With prismatic
beams of light
From above.
Breathe deeply,
Love,
Of your
emancipation.
Fish, those
flashing jewels,
Are nothing beside
your
Soul, Light
Crowned.