Disclaimer: None of the characters contained herein belong to me. No money is being made off of this.
Warning: Spoilers, Character death, angst, and slash in the later chapters.
Dedication: This is for Jenn, for doing the dishes while I jotted it down on a scrap of paper.
Author's Note: Yeah...this one's weird. This chapter is omniscient third POV, and it's going to be the only chapter from that view point. Next chapters will ave clear cut character POVs. I was listening to one of my Nightwish CDs, and I was hit with inspiration. I carried it around in my head for a bit, then scribbled some ideas down at work. Then I finally got it down on the computer.
It takes place in what would be Harry's sixth year. Events that have come to pass are somewhat explained in the text.
End of All Hope
"This is the end."
The words had a finality, a coldness to them. They were the sound of a crypt, dusty and bitter and without hope or life.
"Severus, you can't say that."
The council chamber was nearly silent. All eyes turned, peeling slowly away from Severus Snape to rest on Remus Lupin.
"It's not the end." Remus shook his head, eyes wide with fear and disbelief. No one else refuted the Potion Masters statement. It was the end. They had stood, they had fought, and they had failed. "I know things look horrid now..."
"Lupin, we must face the truth!" Severus' eyes were cold and dead, simply black holes that stared out on the world. "What hope do we have now? We have been beaten back to a handful!"
"There are more then just us." Remus said, gathering his strength. "In the ministry, in the outlying regions, in Voldemort's ranks..."
"Remmie, just drop it!"
Sirius had been silent. No one blamed him. He looked as though he had been dragged through hell and back, tied to the devil's horse. "I'm not saying give up, I'm just saying we need to...to regroup. Or something."
"There is no regrouping!" Severus slammed his hand down on the table. "He has won! We are hardly a force to stand against his forces..."
"As said by a true traitor." The words were said in a deadly hiss, gravelly anger tinging them slightly. Sirius' blank eyes fixed on Severus', boring into him. "How do we know we can trust you?"
"Sirius, now isn't the time." Remus, the peacekeeper, determined to keep tempers cool. "It's too soon for this."
"I am inclined to agree." Mcgonagall, sane voice among the masses. "It is too soon."
"Then you are all fools!" Severus made as though to spit, and drew himself up to his full height. "*This* is why we stand no chance. We aren't warriors! Where are out tacticians? Our strategists? Our generals, our foot soldiers?" He brought his fist down again, hard, emphasizing his point. "We are not an army!" He enunciated each word, voice thick with disgust. "They are. Wars are not won on wishes and good intentions. Wars are won with blood and sacrifice. We have suffered a loss. This is a war. I have no grand delusions that all of us who sit here now are going to come out alive. It will be a miracle if half of us do! We lost one more of our number. It is...unfortunate, but it is not reason to give up all hope."
"You're the one who said this is the end, Severus." Remus' voice was soft and hushed.
"Not because of the boy's death." Severus shook his head. "It is the end because we rested our hopes on his shoulders alone. Look at us! You sit, shattered, because of the death of one. If you truly wish to win this, then find your strengths. We must organize. We must call all whom we know are loyal. We must elect generals, leaders, we must develop some sort of an order."
"You're speaking of leaders, Severus." Mcgonagall again. "Dumbledore had designated his wish that this be a council..."
"And Dumbledore is gone!" Livid. The potions master had never been so emotional. "This is war! Why can you people not see this?"
"We do see, Severus." Always the quiet one, Remus. "That's why we're here."
"Then we must do what we have to." Severus sat, features set in stone. "You all have a choice. You may stay, and do as I have instructed-or you may go. And die."
"Oh?" Standing, eyes narrowed, Sirius was an intimidating form. "And who are you, to tell us what to do? Who are you to point fingers, and name names? If we do stay, who will be our leader, as you're so eager to place us under someone's thumb? Who would you pick, to lead us?"
"Myself."
"No." He would not stand for it. "You'll lead us to our deaths!"
"No he won't."
"Stay out of this, Remus." Still sitting, calm and composed. He had found his footing. "If you won't have it, then leave. I will not stop you. Remus, go and collect me young Mr. Weasley. He has shown quite a talent for tactics. Bring me also Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Granger, and Ms. Chang."
"Severus..." Slightly hesitant. "What can Neville do...?"
"You would be surprised. Black, I see you've sat down again. Good."
"I just want to watch you fail, Snape, that's all."
"Fine. But be quiet as you do so. Remus...?"
The werewolf left, and Severus turned his attention to those who remained. Some did leave, believing that there was no hope.
"Black, you are adept at battle magics...You will be needed to train whomever joins with us."
"Train? Do you plan to fill our ranks with children?"
"If I must. Ah, Lupin..."
The door opened. Remus had returned, requested students trailing behind.
"I thank you for coming." Standing again, Severus surveyed the new members. Weasley, red eyed and weary. Longbottom, small and frightened. Granger, apprehensive and curious. Chang, defiant and wary. "As you are aware, we are in the midst of a war. You may have noticed a drop in our attendance..." A pause, waiting for a response. "Your services are needed. Consider yourselves drafted. Chang, you have a record of hand to hand combat, yes?"
"Yes..." Not certain what her role was, why she was here.
"Good. Magic leaves tell tale signs, signatures. If we wish discretion, there will be times when force will be needed. Ms. Granger, I doubt I need explain where your talents lie?"
"No." She shook her head. "I...I assume it's my cleverness."
"You assume right. But never *assume* again. Your skill lies in research, facts. We will need that. Longbottom...you are brighter then you appear. You've no common sense or book skills, but you've an innate sense of preservation. And you are quite unassuming. Skills we can utilize. And...Mr. Weasley." Severus paused, eyes raking over the red-head's disheveled form.
"Get on with it Snape. I don't have time for this."
"You most certainly do. All the forces in the world can do nothing if they have no battle plan."
"I'm not interested." Ron shook his head, arms folded. "Professor Lupin told me what happened...I'm not going to serve under you."
"Do not be a fool boy. If you want your revenge, you damn well will serve under me. And you will do as you are told. You are being offered a prestigious position. Now sit down, all of you."
Silently, slowly, they slipped into their proscribed roles.
"We are outnumbered, at the moment, by at least five to one. That we know of. Voldemort most likely has forces that we cannot even comprehend. He has mastered the dark arts. We cannot sit here waiting to be picked off. We must act."
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