Darkness and Light 3: If We Survive
by R. J. Anderson (Revised 10/2003)
Chapter Ten: Tear-Floods
The lab at St. Mungo's was quiet, a single fallen stool the only evidence of the violent confrontation that had taken place that afternoon. Now three figures stood in the centre of the floor, bathed in the pale golden light of early evening: one young man and two young women, standing close together with the tips of their wands against their mouths.
"Exaudio," said George clearly, stretching out his wand to touch first Maud's ear, then Imogen's. Tony's borrowed robes strained as he moved, noticeably short for him and too tight in the shoulders: he had not taken the Polyjuice yet.
"Exaudio," echoed Maud, copying his gesture; Imogen followed suit, and the three-way link was complete.
"Better test it first," said Imogen, then tapped her ear and subvocalised, "Er... is this thing on?"
George snorted, and even Maud gave a reluctant half-smile. The poor performance of the Muggle sound system at George and Jennet's wedding reception had become something of a standing joke in the month since; it was a good thing the three of them wouldn't have to count on anything so unreliable to make themselves heard today.
"Brilliant idea, George," Imogen continued in her normal voice, then added with a touch of envy, "Wish I'd thought of it."
George reddened slightly at the unexpected praise. "Yeah, well, let's just keep it for when it's needed, OK? Having someone do a running commentary in your ear is really distracting."
"Oh, indeed?" said Maud dryly. "I'd never have guessed."
That should have been George's cue to laugh, but instead he grimaced, as though her words had pained him. "Can we do without the Snape impersonations? No offence."
At first Maud was taken aback; then she realised he was right. Ever since this afternoon, when Tony's abduction attempt had confirmed the worst of her fears, she had been sounding more and more like Severus. But then, she had been feeling more and more like him, too.
"Sorry," she said quietly. "I just... find it hard to get him off my mind."
"Well, of course!" exclaimed Imogen, shooting George a quelling glare. "Look, let's just be honest with each other. Tony might not have known why the Enemy wanted you, but I think we can all make a pretty good guess. The Enemy must have been talking to Muriel, and now that he knows about you and Severus, he plans to use you as leverage, to force Snape to do what he wants."
Maud nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"But it's not going to happen," said George, his voice husky with conviction. "We'll pull you out of there, Maud - there's no way we'll let You-Know-Who hurt you -"
"No," said Maud shakily. "He'll just hurt Severus instead." And then the tears came, and she put her hand over her mouth to try and hold them back but she couldn't, and Imogen gathered her into her arms and held her as she wept. George stood awkwardly beside them, obviously not knowing what to say, but she felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder, and knew that he was doing his best to bring her comfort.
Nevertheless, Maud could see no hope of consolation now. In spite of George's brave words she knew, and suspected Imogen knew as well, that she would be hurt no matter what happened. Muriel, in her seemingly limitless malice, had seen to that.
"It's my fault," she whispered. "If I hadn't made Muriel hate me so much - if I'd been better at hiding the truth from her -"
"Nonsense," said Imogen in a firm tone. "You did nothing wrong. You were just yourself. And Severus won't blame you for that, any more than we do." She took a step back and tilted up Maud's chin with one finger, forcing the younger witch to meet her dark and uncharacteristically serious eyes. "Severus can take care of himself, Maud. He's been playing this game almost as long as you've been alive. And ever since Muriel escaped from Azkaban, he's known, just as you have, that it might come to this."
Maud gave a reluctant nod.
"So don't underestimate Severus - or yourself." Imogen's gaze was intent. "You're both prepared, which gives you an advantage. The Enemy is powerful, but he's not infallible. Don't let him fool you into thinking otherwise. Just remember your Occlumency training and you'll be fine." She shook Maud lightly, emphatically. "Do you hear me?"
"I hear you."
"Good." She let Maud go, turned an inquiring look on George. "Ready?"
"Yeah, just about. Give me a second." He opened the left side of his cloak to disclose several rows of shallow pockets, all of them empty; glancing up at the shelf above him, he touched his wand first to one of the pockets, then to a bottle marked Wit-Sharpening Potion.
"Isn't that one of Tony's?" asked Maud, a little hesitantly. "It's his handwriting on the label."
"Nope." One corner of George's mouth turned up in a little, self-satisfied smile. "For the last six weeks or so, Fred and I have been sneaking back here every chance we got to dump out Tony's potions and replace 'em with our own. We knew we'd replaced all of his stuff that got shipped to the Ministry, but we reckoned it wouldn't hurt to make sure the lab supplies were OK too." He touched another pocket, then another bottle, this one labelled Strength Serum. "There, that's it, then."
"I'm a bit confused," said Imogen. "What exactly are you planning to do with those bottles?"
"It's simple," said George patiently. His fingers dipped into the pocket he'd just touched, and immediately the bottle of Strength Serum vanished from the shelf above. When he pulled his hand out, it was holding the bottle. "See?"
"Not about that," said Imogen, with a touch of annoyance. "I'm not completely daft, you know: I know a Linking Charm when I see one. I meant what's in the bottles. Aren't those potions supposed to be Tony's gifts to the other Death Eaters?"
"Yep."
"Then... why are you giving them good stuff?"
George handed her the bottle. "Do a Revealing Charm on the label," he said.
Somewhat dubiously, Imogen gave the bottle a tap with her wand and said, "Aperio."
At once the letters shifted fluidly into George's rounder, bolder handwriting: now the label read Sleeping Solution. "That's what's really in there," he said. "While you and Maud were breaking into Mad-Eye's house -"
"We didn't break in," said Maud, with a touch of asperity. True, her uncle had already left to join the Ministry forces by the time they arrived; but his house was always open to Maud, and she knew he would not object to Imogen borrowing his cloak.
"- I was making good use of my time to change these labels." George tapped his nose sagely with one finger and drawled, "Takes a lot to catch me napping, love."
"Eurgh," said Imogen with distaste. "Save that for after you've taken the Polyjuice, will you?" She put the bottle down, then picked up the invisibility cloak from the workbench and swung it around her shoulders. "All right, then, you're a clever boy and we all love you madly - but we'd better get out of here, or the Enemy's going to wonder what Tony and Maud are up to."
"Right." George took the bottle of Polyjuice out of his pocket and looked at it without enthusiasm. "Here goes, then..." He pulled the cork out, tipped the contents into his mouth, swallowed, and grimaced horribly. "Tastes like horse muck."
"How would you know?" asked Imogen with interest - and then the transformation began. George's features shifted, distorted, remoulded themselves; his torso thickened, while his arms and legs became shorter; and his thick red hair faded first to dingy brown, then thinned out and receded from his forehead. A few seconds more, and the change was complete.
"That was disgusting," said George, in Tony's voice. "And to think I used to wonder why people didn't use Polyjuice more often."
Imogen pulled up the hood of her cloak, making herself completely invisible. "Off we go, then," she said. "Where to, do you think?"
"Hogwarts," said Maud.
George-as-Tony's mouth thinned a little with impatience. "We know that, Maud. But where do we Apparate?"
"Hogwarts," Maud repeated. "By the broom shed."
"You can't -" began George, but Imogen's disembodied voice interrupted him.
"Wait a minute. Maud, are you saying you think the Enemy's done something to the Anti-Apparation barrier around Hogwarts grounds? But those spells are incredibly dense and complex - it would take a team of trained wizards several weeks on site to take them down."
"Yes," said Maud. "I know. And I have good reason to suspect that a team of wizards has been on site for several weeks, doing just that. How else do you account for the Enemy's forces reaching Hogwarts so quickly, without passing through Hogsmeade or otherwise being spotted?"
"But if You-Know-Who sent an advance team to Hogwarts," George argued, "they'd have been spotted by now, too. Unless they had invisibility cloaks, or -" He stopped short, his eyes - Tony's eyes - widening in comprehension. "They were working on the barrier from the inside."
"Draco Malfoy," said Maud quietly. "And a gang of other Slytherins. Severus warned me they were planning something big to show their support for Voldemort. What else could it be?"
George let out a sudden, vehement oath. "Malfoy! That little -"
"Enough," said Imogen sharply, sounding very like Glossop. "We don't have time for this. Maud, we'll test your theory: the broom shed it is. And if it turns out you're wrong, and we can't make it into the grounds, we'll go to the platform at Hogsmeade Station and walk up to the school from there. Agreed?"
Maud nodded. George, who was clenching and unclenching Tony's big hands as though preparing to throttle Draco with them, said between his teeth, "Yeah. Let's go."
Maud reached out and slipped her left hand into George's, suppressing a shudder at the feel of Tony's calluses against her skin. A second later, she felt another, invisible hand grip her right - a sensation hardly less disconcerting. She took a deep breath to steady herself, as Imogen subvocalised in her ear: All together, now. One. Two. Three -
They Disapparated.
#
It worked, said George's voice blankly - and it was George's voice, in spite of the Polyjuice; apparently the Exaudio Charm didn't actually involve the speaker's vocal cords. Maud, you were right.
Maud nodded, but without enthusiasm. They stood, as they had planned, behind the broom shed, well within Hogwarts grounds. To the east, the towers of Hogwarts Castle rose high against the cloud-feathered sky, windows glimmering in the light of the setting sun.
She turned slowly, making a survey of the land. The silence from the Quidditch pitch behind them suggested that if Voldemort's forces were indeed encamped at Hogwarts, they must be on the other side of the castle, or otherwise hidden from view. The latter would make sense; Voldemort probably would not want to show his hand until he was ready to begin the assault. Perhaps he and his forces were lurking in the forest - although, with those massive trees and tangled paths, it seemed a highly impractical place to hide an army...
Imogen's invisible hand came down on her shoulder, startling her. Maud, she said. Promise me that whatever happens, you won't try to come between Severus and the Enemy. You can't shield him, or fight for him. And if you try, you're very likely to ruin whatever chance he might have at saving himself.
I know, said Maud.
Good. But one more thing - you'd better not fight us when we try to pull you out, either. You won't help Severus by dying with him.
I know.
Very good. A deep breath. Now, George...
You don't have to order me around, Imogen. I know what I'm supposed to do.
No, I don't think you do. Imogen's voice was firm. When the Enemy tells you to push off, do it. And don't hang about on the sidelines, either. Forget about Maud -
Are you cracked?
Listen to me, George. Yes, I mean it: forget about Maud, and play Tony to the hilt as long as the Polyjuice holds out. Because the more trick potions you can get into the hands of those Death Eaters, the better chance we all have at getting out of this alive.
George said nothing, but the mutinous expression on his face spoke volumes. Imogen went on more gently, Don't worry, I'll call you back if I need your help. But if I can rescue Maud without involving you, so much the better.
This wasn't what we agreed, he said, resentment clear in his voice.
Yes, it was. We agreed not to let Maud go to Hogwarts alone, and we agreed to do everything in our power to keep her safe. And we might succeed, at that - but only if you stick to the plan. We don't have time to argue strategy, George. Just promise me you'll do what I ask.
Imogen spoke mildly, but the force behind her words was unmistakable: she outranked George, and they both knew it. If she gave him an order, he was bound by oath to obey. Nevertheless, it was not until Maud laid her hand on George's arm, silently pleading with him, that he relented. All right, he said, blowing out his breath in a frustrated sigh. I'll do it. I - promise.
Thank you, George. Imogen sounded relieved. Then let's go.
It seemed a very long walk away from the Quidditch stadium, up the sloping lawns toward the front entrance of Hogwarts Castle. Maud tried to keep close to George-as-Tony and walk stiffly, keeping her eyes a little unfocused, as though she were under Imperius; but when at last she rounded the corner and saw what lay on the castle's far side, she gave an involuntary gasp.
Voldemort's forces were arrayed, in plain sight, between Hogwarts and the forest. And there were hundreds of them. Not only wizards and Dementors, as she had expected, but Dark creatures by the score - harpies, hags, and trolls - and even, to her horror, two giants, each of whom must have been a good twenty feet tall and whom she had not spotted before solely because they were sitting down.
A little man she did not recognise, whose right hand gleamed silver in the twilight, was pacing along the lines, his black cloak flapping behind him. When after several nervous strides he wheeled around again, he caught sight of George and Maud approaching, and his face relaxed in evident relief. He hurried up to them and spoke:
"Gamble! Where have you been? Our Master has been waiting for you."
For a minute George stared at the man, as though taken aback: then he recovered himself and said insouciantly, "Sorry about that, mate. Took me longer than I'd thought to get this one -" he jerked a thumb at the stiff and silent Maud - "away from her friends."
I'll say, remarked Imogen with dry amusement, and George's jaw tightened; she had clearly forgotten his injunction against running commentary.
Until now the little man had scarcely glanced at Maud; now he looked at her directly for the first time, and his eyes widened. "This -" he said, almost choking in disbelief, "this is Severus Snape's lover?"
"Is she?" said George-as-Tony, with a convincing lack of interest. Tony had already told them, under the influence of Veritaserum, that he didn't know Snape personally.
That's a compliment, if you like, observed Imogen. What did he expect, a gargoyle?
Maud bowed her head, so that her hair fell about her face. Imogen, please don't, she subvocalised urgently, moving her lips as little as possible, and the other woman fell silent.
"Don't really know why the Dark Lord wants her," George went on in the same indifferent tone. "Don't care, either. I'm just doing my job. So can we get on with it? Doing Imperius always gives me a bloody headache."
The hint of petulant complaint beneath the offhand manner was classic Tony, and Maud had to resist the urge to applaud. Certainly the little man seemed to have no suspicions about George's legitimacy, for he turned his back on them without hesitation and began walking down the sloping, shadow-streaked lawn, beckoning them to follow.
For hours now Maud had been bracing herself for the sight of Voldemort in the flesh, forcing herself to recall every detail of the ghastly avatar that haunted her memories. As they passed between the ranks of Voldemort's servants, heading toward an open, black-draped pavilion erected at the bottom of the slope, her thoughts took on even more grotesque proportions; by the time they reached the pavilion, she was trembling, and her throat was so tight she could hardly breathe. It was all she could do to remember what Snape had taught her, to push her betraying thoughts and feelings below the surface of her mind so that the Dark Lord might not see them.
The man with the silver hand entered first; he knelt, bowed his head, and murmured, "My lord, Gamble and the woman have arrived."
"Good," breathed a voice from the shadows. "Show them in, Wormtail... I grow impatient..."
She couldn't do it, she realised as George-as-Tony took her arm and led her into the pavilion; she simply couldn't look Voldemort in the eye. And mercifully, she didn't have to, because George, with an unctuous smoothness, dropped to his knees as Wormtail had done, and dragged her down with him.
"Master," he said.
Voldemort, Maud noticed distractedly, was wearing black leather boots. It might not be a bad idea to concentrate on them, instead. They were clearly visible beneath the hem of his robes, and as she gazed at them, she realised that the toes were scuffed and even slightly dirty. It had never occurred to her that an Evil Overlord's boots might need polishing, and the discovery gave her an obscure comfort.
"You are late, Gamble," said the high, cold voice she remembered. It was a bloodless sort of voice, with a faint hiss in the undertone. But it was also a good deal smaller and less resonant than the voice that had echoed through the Quidditch stadium nearly two years ago. "It is fortunate that you arrived just now... I was about to conclude that you had betrayed me..."
"Not a bit of it, my lord," said George-as-Tony rapidly, an edge of panic in his voice that might not have been entirely feigned. "I had to wait until the coast was clear before I took the girl, that's all. I've done my best for you, I swear."
"Then you will be rewarded for your faithfulness... if you have indeed been faithful. Stand up, Tony Gamble. Bring the girl to me."
George rose awkwardly, pulling Maud to her feet, and stepped closer to the dais where Voldemort was sitting. Maud swallowed hard against the resurgence of her fear, and when something moved past her feet with a dry rasp of scales, she almost cried aloud; there was an enormous snake in the tent, raising its scaly head to gaze at her with cold, glittering eyes -
And ironically, it was that very shock which saved her. Because no matter how hideous the Enemy might be, he couldn't be any worse than that. She tore her eyes from the snake, and looked Voldemort in the face.
Repulsive he certainly was, with his pale, dead-looking skin and lipless gash of a mouth. His red eyes bored into hers, unblinking and pitiless as the snake's had been. Still, Voldemort was not half as terrible as the towering spectre that had gloated over her nightmares for the past sixteen months; he was only an ugly distortion of a man.
Fluidly the Dark Lord rose from his seat and stepped toward her. His skeletal hand flashed out and seized her by the chin, forcing her head up. It was all she could do to maintain her vague expression as he turned her face from one side to the other, inspecting her thoroughly but dispassionately, as though she were some exotic creature offered him for sale.
"You took her wand, of course?" he said to George-as-Tony.
"Er..." George had the wit to look sheepish. "No, actually. Forgot about it, in all the excitement." No doubt his first impulse had been to lie, but he must have realised that the risk of being caught was far too great.
"Fool." Voldemort's lips tightened. "The girl was raised by an Auror, trained by the Department of Secrets, and you never thought of disarming her?"
"Well, she was under Imperius..."
"Do not weary me with your excuses, Gamble." His cold fingers slipped first into her left sleeve, then into her right. "Two wands," he murmured. "Typical Department of Secrets foolishness." He tossed the wands indifferently to the floor, and the great snake slithered over them, burying them beneath her pale coils. "Now," he said, his red eyes fixed on Maud's, "release her."
Maud barely heard George's answering mutter, but she recognised her cue. She allowed her distracted gaze to focus; then she staggered and choked back a little cry. It was a somewhat exaggerated performance, but it seemed to please Voldemort; one corner of his mouth twitched in a ghastly caricature of a smile.
"Tell me your name, girl," he commanded. Maud could feel his mind slither over hers, testing the surface of her thoughts, and she did not have to feign the tremor in her voice, or the shallow quickness of her breath, as she answered:
"Maud... Maud Moody."
You are a still pond, Miss Moody...
Even though it was only a memory, the sound of that familiar voice calmed her, as it had always done. And the subtle Occlumency she wove out of that stillness must have worked, for Voldemort's eyes narrowed before he spoke again:
"And who are you to my... possibly wilful... servant, Severus Snape?"
He wasn't certain of Severus's treachery, then: at least, not yet. If she could hide the truth from him... Allow your fear to dominate, like a layer of ice upon the surface of your mental lake. That, at least, was not difficult. "He - he was my Potions teacher at Hogwarts -"
"You lie." His hands framed her face, one long cold finger pressing against each temple, and the weight of his mind on hers increased. "Do not attempt to deceive me, foolish girl... what is Snape to you?"
Either her Occlumency skills were not as strong as they had once been, or he had good reason to know she was not telling him the whole truth. She gazed back at Voldemort helplessly, her thoughts churning several layers below the surface, and tried to figure out how much he really knew.
To convince the Dark Lord that there really was a relationship between Snape and Maud, rather than merely some fleeting love potion-induced affair, Muriel would have had only one real piece of evidence to offer: her glimpse of Maud's Patronus. That might not be exactly conclusive as far as Severus's feelings were concerned, but it certainly said something about Maud's, and to pretend otherwise might well prove her undoing. She lowered her head, brought a surge of confirming emotion to the surface, and said in a small, beaten voice, "I love him."
"Ah," breathed Voldemort, apparently satisfied. "And does he return your... love?" His chill voice made a mockery of the word.
"Well," she replied slowly, suppressing her sudden exultation - Severus had anticipated this, she was sure of it - "I have never heard him say so."
The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed still further, and she saw his jaw tighten, as though he had sensed the literal truth of her answer and it had disconcerted him. But his voice, when he spoke, held only contempt: "Are you trying to tell me that you are nothing to him? I find that very hard to believe."
"Thank you," said Maud, and immediately regretted it, as Voldemort's cold hands slid down to her neck.
"Do not play games with me, girl," he hissed. "I can devise torments for you such as you cannot imagine, if you attempt to defy me." His fingers tightened on her throat. "Perhaps Severus's feelings are not quite so... sentimental as yours. But I doubt that he would be indifferent to your death, either."
"Are you planning to kill me?" Her voice cracked a little on the words.
He gave a bleak smile. "Only if it pleases me to do so. Submit to me, make no foolish attempts at resistance, and you may be spared - if I see no use in killing you. You are a pureblood witch, after all, are you not?"
"Yes." She spoke the syllable flatly, trying not to show the revulsion she felt.
"Good. Then you may yet find a place in my new wizarding order... provided you act wisely."
He released her mind and body together and sank back into his seat, the great snake slithering up behind him and draping one heavy coil around his shoulders like a mantle. His gaze flicked dispassionately past her to the little man still hovering by the entrance. "Wormtail... now that Gamble and the woman are here, there is no more need for delay. Tell my Death Eaters... it is time."
"Master," said the man tremulously, "The Anti-Apparation barrier...?"
"Yes."
Wormtail bowed low and hurried out.
"As for you, Tony Gamble," Voldemort went on to the warily attentive George, "you have indeed done all that I asked... and I am not displeased. Join my forces now, and when this battle is done, you will be rewarded."
"Thank you, Master," said George-as-Tony. His voice sounded hoarse; this interview was obviously telling on his nerves.
"Leave us." Voldemort's fingers flicked the air in a gesture of dismissal. George hesitated for a fraction of an instant, then wheeled stiffly and walked out of the pavilion. Maud watched him trudging up the slope, his shoulders set with tension, and felt an ache of loss and loneliness that surprised her with its intensity. She had not realised until then how much it had meant to her to have George there, how much strength she had drawn simply from being aware of his presence. In that moment, silently but fervently, she wished him well.
I'm still here, said Imogen's voice in her ear. Right by the entrance. Don't be afraid, Maud. You're doing wonderfully.
Maud wished she dared to subvocalise her thanks, but the Enemy's eyes were still upon her; so she only lowered her head, trusting Imogen would recognise it as an acknowledgement. A moment passed in silence before Voldemort spoke once more:
"Your beloved Severus has promised to deliver Harry Potter to me by sundown. If he does not, I will present you before the walls of Hogwarts and see if he changes his mind."
"And if he doesn't?" asked Maud, with some trepidation.
Voldemort's eyes glittered red. "Then you will be the first to die - but only the first of many. Because at that moment, my forces will begin the siege of Hogwarts. And when they have penetrated those few protective spells that still remain about the castle - as they assuredly will - they will kill every living being within, teachers and students alike, save for those few whose blood is pure and who have already vowed loyalty to me."
"Oh," said Maud faintly.
"Then at the last, when Hogwarts is a smouldering ruin, I will hang Harry Potter's lifeless body from the top of the Astronomy Tower for all the wizarding world to see." His mouth curled. "It is a thought which gives me... considerable pleasure."
Lovely, said Imogen with distaste. Remind me not to call him if I ever need a baby-sitter.
Maud put her hands over her face - a natural reaction, given the horror of what Voldemort had just said - and mouthed, Imogen, stop it!
Not until you stop taking him so seriously, came the firm reply. He's not half so confident as he makes out - or at least, he hasn't reason to be. I've just been feeling out the protective spells around Hogwarts Castle myself, and they're as strong as they ever were. Whatever your old schoolmate Draco and his nasty friends managed to do to the Anti-Apparation barrier, it only affected the grounds and not the school itself - so it's going to be a long, tough siege.
Maud took a deep breath and let her hands drop. Voldemort was looking at her, superior and amused. "Good," he said, his teeth gleaming in the shadows. "I see you are wise enough to fear me. Perhaps you may serve me yet. Nonetheless -" his voice sharpened - "this very moment the sun has gone down, and I see no sign of Harry Potter... or Severus Snape. So it would seem that at least one of my former servants has forgotten what little wisdom he once possessed."
He rose smoothly to his feet, the great snake sliding from his shoulders, and extended one long black-robed arm toward her. Maud flinched as his wand grazed her cheek, then drew a line down to the hollow of her throat, in a wordless but painfully imminent threat of violence.
"Very well," said Voldemort in a purring undertone. "Let us go and remind him."
#
As Maud walked with the Dark Lord up the slope toward Hogwarts Castle, the ranks of his forces parted like black water to let them pass. Though the sky was stained indigo at the horizon where the last fading glow of sunlight lingered, even that was darkening quickly to a more sombre hue, and in the blackness high above the first stars had begun to emerge. If not for the Death Eaters' lighted wands, illuminating their path like torches, it would have been difficult to see.
Though Voldemort strode by her side, he was not looking at her. Maud lowered her head so that her face was mostly hidden in her hair, and her lips shaped a rapid question: Imogen, shouldn't the Ministry forces be here by now?
I was thinking that myself,came the reluctant reply. But even if they've figured out that they can Apparate straight to Hogwarts, it takes time to mobilise an army when they're scattered about the country. Don't forget either that the Ministry of Magic isn't exactly renowned for speed and efficiency, even with a few bright lights like your uncle helping them along; and none of us, not even Glossop, were expecting this to come quite so soon.
Thank you, said Maud dryly, no longer caring how much she sounded like Snape. That's very comforting.
You haven't heard the worst of it, George told them in a strained voice. I just found out - the Death Eaters have restored the Anti-Apparation barrier.
There was a moment's silence, and then Imogen swore. I'm an idiot, she said. I should have seen that coming.
Yeah, well, so should I. But it's too late now. You OK, Maud?
At the moment. Are you?
Yeah. I managed to pawn off a few of these potions, though I told everybody not to use them until the fighting started. I'll have to take another dose of Polyjuice before long, though.
He sounded less than enthusiastic about the prospect, and Maud could hardly blame him. She was about to ask whether he had seen Muriel yet - surely she must be here somewhere - but he cut her off: Somebody's coming. Got to go... His voice faded.
Voldemort stopped at the crest of the slope, looking back at Maud. "Come," he said, and beckoned her with a short, imperious gesture. Knowing it would be pointless to disobey, Maud stepped up beside the Dark Lord as he turned to face the walls of Hogwarts, pointed his wand at his own throat and intoned, "Sonorus."
Here we go, Imogen said resignedly in Maud's ear.
"Severus Snape!" The hissing words shivered through the darkness, as Voldemort addressed the silent walls in the vast and terrible voice Maud remembered from the League Cup semi-final. "This is your final chance. Give me the Potter boy, and then... and only then... you and those with you may live to see tomorrow's dawn."
Maud held her breath, the blood thudding through her ears. Severus must be able to hear those words - no doubt everyone else in Hogwarts had heard them as well. But a long minute passed, and there was no reply.
"So... not only a traitor, but a coward as well," said Voldemort contemptuously. "I expected better things from you, Severus. After all, you did help my faithful Slytherins to remove the Anti-Apparation spells around Hogwarts and allow my army entrance..."
What? exploded George's voice in Maud's ear. That slimy, treacherous -
Don't be a fool, Imogen snapped back. Can't you see that's exactly what the Enemy wants - to drive a wedge between Severus and the few allies he has left? Of course Snape helped Draco and the others: he couldn't have done anything else without giving himself away. But I'll lay you fifty Galleons that Snape is the reason Voldemort could only get his army into the grounds, and not the school as well. Are you going to take that bet?
A moment's hesitation from George, and then, with a touch of resentment, No. Maud closed her eyes in relief as Voldemort continued:
"Do those who stand at your side truly know you for what you are? Severus Snape, one of my own sworn Death Eaters, who until this moment had proven himself most diligent and useful in my service... who deceived that old fool Dumbledore into trusting him, all the while reporting to me and doing my bidding... who even conspired with me to deliver his master into my hands, on the promise that in good time I would make him Head of Hogwarts in Dumbledore's place..."
From one of the higher windows in the castle came a strangled cry of fury and outrage, in a voice eerily similar to George's; by the faint radiance of the Death Eaters' wands, Maud could just make out Voldemort's smile. "Yes," he said. "And when you had proven your worth by betraying Dumbledore, I kept my word to you, did I not, Severus? Eliminating McGonagall, your one remaining rival, by imprisoning her in her feline form... an amusing torment that you yourself suggested. Oh, indeed, you have been ruthless." He gave a cold laugh. "And yet... all the while you harboured two secret weaknesses. Your pathetic sense of obligation to Harry Potter... and this."
His hand whipped out with the speed of a striking snake, seizing Maud by the arm and wrenching her forward. Taken off-guard, she tripped and fell sprawling at his feet, as Voldemort swept his wand through the air and cried out, "Lumos maximus!"
Immediately a burst of dazzling radiance erupted around them, eclipsing the lesser glow of the Death Eaters' wands and lighting up the ground for a hundred feet in each direction. The front ranks of the Dark Lord's army blinked and shielded their eyes, as Voldemort raised his wand again and said, "Amplifico!"
The air in front of him shimmered, and Maud nearly cried out as the walls of Hogwarts zoomed toward them, suddenly grown to enormous size. Only belatedly did she realise that Voldemort's spell had not actually brought them closer to the school towering above, but merely magnified their view. Now she could see the faces of the students crowded into every available window, their open mouths and staring eyes. She recognised Ron Weasley, his freckled face livid with anger; and caught a fleeting glimpse of an anxious-looking Hermione behind him. Harry, however, was nowhere to be seen.
At the top of the Astronomy Tower - for even its considerable height was illumined by the power of Voldemort's spell - stood a group of familiar adults, grim-faced and silent: the teachers of Hogwarts. And with a lurch of her heart Maud recognised the dark figure at the forefront, his hands braced upon the parapet as he gazed down dispassionately at the scene revealed beneath.
He was thinner than she remembered, his eyes blue-shadowed and the lines in his face carved deep; at that moment, in spite of the oil-black hair that bore no hint of grey, he looked considerably older than his thirty-nine years. His gaze met Maud's, or seemed to, but the darkness within them was inscrutable.
"Your lover is unharmed - at present," said Voldemort, his red eyes glowing menace. "Bring Harry Potter to me, and I will spare her life. Refuse, and Maud Moody will die in slow and writhing agonies..." His wand swung down to point at her. "Crucio."
The pain was instant, shocking, and wholly unbearable. Her whole body convulsed with it, every nerve laid bare to a new and exquisite agony, and her ears rang with her own desperate shrieking as she clawed at the ground, trying futilely to escape. It was like being flayed with a hot knife, or boiled alive in oil - it was too much - she would go mad if it did not stop -
"Stop!"
Severus's cry sounded as raw as she felt. Voldemort lowered his wand, and the torture stopped, leaving Maud sobbing with relief. Imogen's babbled apologies and George's furious swearing overlapped in her ears: at first she could hardly separate their voices, but at last they became clear:
- sorry, Maud, so sorry - I didn't see it coming - I couldn't get to you in time -
- it, that is bloody well it! Sod your orders, Imogen, I'm coming over and we're going to get her out of there right now -
No, mouthed Maud weakly against the grass. Stay where you are. He's made his point; he won't need to do it again. I'm all right. Nerves still shrilling with remembered pain, she pushed herself awkwardly onto knees and elbows. Just... wait.
Maud -
Please, she said. Trust me.
Silence. She blinked back the tears from her eyes and sat back on her heels, looking up just in time to see Snape step up onto the edge of the parapet with broom in hand.
"Severus, no!" cried a voice from behind him - it sounded like McGonagall's, although that was surely impossible - but Snape ignored it.
He swung his leg over the broomstick and pushed off, robes fluttering like dark wings as he glided inexorably down, past the students gaping at him from the windows, through the harsh bubble of light and the shivering rectangle of magnified air, to land neatly at the foot of the Astronomy Tower. With a brusque, dismissive gesture he tossed the broom aside, took a step forward - and drew his wand.
He moved swiftly, but Voldemort was quicker still. "Expelliarmus!" he hissed, and Severus was blasted off his feet by a dazzling flash of scarlet. The wand flew from his grasp; Voldemort stretched out his hand almost languidly and caught it. "You appear to be in a position of checkmate, Severus. Are you prepared to... reconsider?"
Snape rose with difficulty to his feet and stood there swaying a little. He wiped his bleeding mouth with the back of his hand, said through clenched teeth, "If you want Potter, you can bloody well go and find him. Because I don't know where he is."
Voldemort laughed, a chillingly humourless sound. "Slippery to the last, Severus... No doubt what you say is true, but only because you instructed him to hide where neither you nor I might find him. Still, it makes no difference. I will have Harry Potter, with or without your aid, and before this night is over, Hogwarts will fall to me... Nox."
The radiant dome around them vanished. "Quietus," said the Dark Lord, then continued at merely human volume, "Let us bargain, you and I. You say you cannot offer me the Potter boy... what then will you give me for the life of your lover?"
Snape was silent, his sallow face looking paler than ever in the moonlight. He looked down at Maud, expressionless; she raised her head and met his gaze steadily. Her lips framed words too silent for even Imogen or George to hear: I love you. I believe in you. Do what you must.
"Do you know," said Severus at last, still looking at Maud, "I did have a number of suggestions in mind. Some of them might even have interested you. But I find... for some reason... that I am weary of lies." He turned back to the Dark Lord with a slight, self-mocking smile. "And even if I had managed to convince you that I would let you in to Hogwarts or give you Dumbledore's secret recipe for immortality in exchange for Maud's life, it would have made no difference. You never had any intention of letting her live."
"No," said Voldemort softly. "Of course not. Why would I, when the sight of her death will cause you more pain than any mere physical torture I might devise?" His red eyes gleamed with anticipation. "But that, of course, will be only the beginning of the torments I have in mind for you, Severus..."
With a deafening bang, a tangle of whiplike cords shot out of the end of Voldemort's wand and wrapped around Snape; within seconds, he was bound fast. No longer able to keep his balance, he teetered and crashed to the ground, eyes blazing with helpless fury.
"Now," breathed the Dark Lord with satisfaction. "Watch closely..." And with slow deliberation he turned and lowered his wand at Maud.
Pull her out, Imogen! George shouted.
I'm - began Imogen, but whatever she was about to say was cut off, as a hoarse cry rang out from the ranks of Voldemort's army:
"Ware Aurors!"
Something came whistling through the night and smashed against the base of the tower; there was a sound like a thunderclap, and a massive fireball erupted into the air. Maud looked up automatically to see where the potion-bomb had come from - and saw, with a surge of incredulous joy, that the sky was full of pale, swooping figures mounted on broomsticks. She had barely registered their presence, however, when another fireball bloomed in the darkness behind Voldemort, illuminating a second wave of white-robed Ministry fighters marching across the lawn.
How? asked George incredulously.How did they do it?
I don't know, said Imogen, with equal astonishment, and at that same moment -
"For Hogwarts!" someone shrilled from above.
"No!" shouted the same female voice that had tried to stop Snape earlier. "Filius - your heart -" But as before, her protests were of no use. Tiny little Flitwick, the Charms professor, came zooming down toward them on a broomstick that looked three sizes too big for him. He pointed his wand at Voldemort and cried, "Lethargus!"
The Coma Curse was beautifully cast; Flitwick had not been Duelling Champion in his youth for nothing. Nevertheless, the Dark Lord's reflexes were faster. He whirled away from the spell before it could hit him, swung up his wand and snapped out, "Incendio!"
Flitwick managed to dodge the spell himself, but his broom was not so fortunate: the twigs burst into flame. He leaped off and tumbled to the ground a few feet away from Maud, so small and light that the twelve-foot fall could barely trouble him. Or so Maud thought, until she saw him grimace, and realised that his wand arm was bent at an odd angle.
Voldemort moved so quickly that no one had time to react. "Avada Kedavra!" he hissed, and with a surging, irrevocable flash of green light, Flitwick gasped, choked, and abruptly ceased to struggle.
Maud threw herself at Flitwick, fumbling for a pulse, all the while knowing it was futile. No one survived the Killing Curse. She had barely confirmed that he was dead when a ragged chorus of angry cries burst out from the tower, and more members of the Hogwarts teaching staff took to the air. With amazement Maud recognised McGonagall in her feline form clinging to the back of Professor Sinistra's broom as they swooped down; perhaps that voice had been her, after all...
But the incoming teachers were quickly intercepted as the front ranks of the Dark Lord's servants surged forward to engage them. Maud looked around wildly as more explosions and flashes of light lit up the sky. The well-ordered ranks of Voldemort's army had shattered as the Ministry forces poured in, and now it was wand-to-wand combat nearly everywhere she looked. Harpies flew shrieking over the battlefield, plucking up unsuspecting Aurors in their talons and dropping them again; the two giants stomped and swung their clubs; and in the midst of the fray she even caught a fleeting glimpse of Alastor Moody, roaring curses and blasting Death Eaters left and right, his grizzled hair flying as he moved with the speed and agility of a much younger man.
Imogen must have seen it too, because she let out a breath and said almost wistfully, Oh, I do fancy your uncle, Maud.
OK, said George's voice with distaste, that was way too much inform -
His words ended in a sudden, chilling silence. George? asked Maud, and then, with redoubled urgency, George!
But there was no answer.
Dread wrenched at Maud's stomach, and she thought she might vomit. She bent her head, breathing shallowly. Imogen, she mouthed. Forget the plan. Forget me. Just find George!
Maud -
You saw what happened to Flitwick. If Voldemort decides to kill me, there's not a thing you can do to stop it. But George might still have a chance. When Imogen did not answer at once, she added desperately, Please, Imogen. Let at least one of us have a happy ending. She swallowed back the bitterness in her throat. It's too late for mine.
There was a long, painful pause. Then:
I'll come back as soon as I can, said Imogen softly.
Maud closed her eyes in mingled sorrow and relief. Then without warning a hand seized her by the hair, dragging her to her feet; she gasped and staggered as Voldemort released her contemptuously, took a step back, and levelled his wand.
"Master, no!" came a desperate shriek from behind him, and the Dark Lord turned, startled. A woman, painfully thin, her cheeks sunken and her eyes like bruises in her haggard face, scrambled up the slope and flung herself at his feet. "My lord... I beg you... you promised..."
"Ah, yes." He looked down at the wretched figure, surprise yielding to amusement. "I had almost forgotten... But why not? The end is the same." He stepped back with a mocking flourish. "By all means, Muriel... claim your reward."
Maud was shocked. Had he really said Muriel? This ragged creature grovelling so pathetically before Voldemort was the same as the sleek, contemptuous girl she remembered from Hogwarts?
To say that Azkaban, even without the Dementors, had not been kind to Muriel Groggins would have been a massive understatement. Still, the passionate hatred in the small, feverishly bright eyes that met Maud's was unmistakable. She rose slowly to her feet, hand clenched around her wand. "Master... I want to fight her..."
"I have no time for that. Burn her, or rot her, or tear her limb from limb, as it pleases you... but do not waste my time on frivolous duelling."
Muriel flushed, subdued. "Yes, great lord."
"Groggins, isn't it?" came Snape's cold voice from the ground. Even disarmed, tied hand and foot and lying on his side, there was a kind of menace about him, and Maud found herself recalling with sudden clarity his overwhelming presence in the classroom. "Toadying to the Dark Lord for the chance to murder a helpless woman. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but you've finally sunk even lower than your Potions grade."
"Shut it, slimeball," Muriel spat back, with something like her old spirit. "You're as bad as she is - worse - sneering at the rest of us for being weak and soft, while you made love to one of your own students, you hypocrite -"
Whatever else she had intended to say was lost, however, as a shout rang out from the darkness and interrupted her:
"Master! We have found him - Harry Potter!"
It was Wormtail, clutching his side and gasping for breath, his silver hand glittering in the moonlight. A sheen of sweat plastered his thin hair to his forehead, and there was a dark smudge on one cheek that might have been blood. "Come quickly, Master - before he can escape -"
Voldemort's face lit with a terrible smile. He turned to Snape. "It would seem that you have failed in every respect, Severus."
Desperately Maud looked about in all directions, searching for someone - anyone - who might intervene: but the battle was fierce, and everyone she recognised as being on their side was already fully occupied fighting for their own lives. She and Severus had their backs to the wall, and their only sure ally - Imogen - was gone; there seemed no longer any possible hope of rescue.
"Not only will Potter be mine in spite of your efforts to hide him," Voldemort gloated over Snape, "the lover you would have given your life to protect is about to die as well... though unfortunately you will not live to witness it. Alas, I cannot give your execution the attention it deserves... but I dare not leave you alive..." He levelled his wand.
"No!" screamed Maud, throwing herself at Voldemort, but Muriel grabbed her arm and wrenched her back. The Dark Lord, his burning red eyes fixed on Snape, did not even appear to notice. Without hesitation, his thin lips shaped the words that had echoed in Maud's nightmares for the past two years:
"Avada Kedavra."