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Chapter Sixteen: Cry Havoc
Lucius Malfoy was staring deep into the mural like something in the broken paint patterns would give him some insight into what Severus had meant by his words. Instead of any epiphanies however, all Lucius could see or feel was hate and betrayal. His hands were rolled so tightly into fists at his side they hurt. He wondered how Severus could betray him so completely. All he was asking for was Snape to take his rightful place and damn his soul. Lucius had done it, Silas had. Hell, everyone that wore the snake and skull on their forearms did so because they knew that their cause was beyond themselves. They knew, that even in their deaths, there would be something left behind of them.
They knew, even if they lost, that someone, somewhere would remember and take up their cause. The purity of their blood would be overpowered perhaps but not forgotten.
As long as there was life, there was hope. Lucius had to believe that.
It he didn't, it would make his brother's death in vain.
"You got him out of here, good boy. What did you tell him?"
Lucius cringed at the sound of Mordred's cocky voice. He turned and saw the Black Prince walking to him, with his hand around a large bottle of scotch in his right hand, in his left Mordred was playing with something shiny and silver. The Prince was dressed in black pants and a black muscle shirt that showed off his arms and their purple tribal tattoo, unlike Lucius own tailored black garb. This upset Malfoy even more, knowing Mordred felt himself above his own subjects and because of that- he felt no need to hide his face behind a mask. Reaching into his coat, Lucius pulled his own and looked back at the mural as he slid the mask on. "What I told him got him out of Hecate like you wanted, that should be enough for you."
Mordred looked up, eyes narrowed. "Despise me all you want old man, but don't you dare disrespect me. I am your Prince."
"I wouldn't dream of it. What's your plan?"
"The Dark Lord only needs us to keep
the Aurors busy here while he destroys Potter and Dumbledore." Mordred said, opening the brand new bottle
of liquor. He looked up, and studied the walls and memorials to the fallen
Aurors for a long time. Gingerly, his fingers played with the object in his other
hand- Lucius could see now it was a lighter. Mordred looked at him, smiling
briefly before turning towards the mural. He walked towards it and frowned, as
if he understood some part of it that was alien to Lucius. "…Blood and
destruction shall be so in use…" Mordred began, tucking the lighter into the
palm of his hand and drawing his fingers over the dry pain. He was quoting
Shakespeare softly under his breath. "…that mothers shall but smile when they
behold their infants quartered with the hands of war. All pity choked with
custom of fell deeds…"
Suddenly, as if the mural
angered him, Mordred stepped back and stuffed a piece of cloth into the bottle
of the liquor. He was staring angering at his hands, muttering to himself. "All
pity choked with custom of fell deeds…and Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge
with Ate by his side come hot from hell and cry Havoc!" He lit the corner of
the cloth and threw it against the mural.
The liquor caught fire and spread over the paint quickly as Mordred retreated back and began to kick all the bottles that had been left for the dead. The booze that came spilling out of them mixed with the flames and caused them to spread, casting a devilish glow over Mordred's features.
"And let slip the dogs of war." He finished, before turning to Lucius. "The others are waiting in the gardens, as the Aurors come to put out the fire…mow them down like cattle. It ends tonight."
"Where are you going, my Prince?" Lucius asked as they both hurried down the old wooden stairs to avoid the quickly spreading fire. "It won't take long for Severus to discover the attack's already under way."
"I'm counting on that." Mordred said, darkly. "But by the time he figures it out, not only will Voldemort be well on his way to destroying Potter and Dumbledore, but I will have found Imre's key and there will be nothing holding me back from killing Snape." He looked up at Lucius and smiled. "Rejoice brother." He said. "This is a good day to die."
Celia "Sky" Falls pushed the door open to Phoenix Hawke's office and walked inside. The Auror was standing in front of the windows, staring into the vast, unchanging plains that surrounded Hecate Compound and Mage's Weir. From this vantage point, you could see the city in the far left of the window, shining like fireflies in the cool night. Closer to the window were the other buildings of the Compound. The pale, white walls gleamed off the moon like polished bone and her darkened windows gaped out like hallowed eye sockets. It looked surreal and slightly terrifying.
Sky had always seen Hecate sparkling like diamonds at night. Becka had once taken Sky to her favorite place at Hecate, the roof of the Gray Library. The Library was domed and glassed and positioned right in the center of the Compound with a clear view all around of the buildings, and never was there a prettier sight to behold then Hecate during her beauty sleep. The lights of the dormitories would shine over the cemetery and laughter from young lovers would waft downward into the center from the offices on the far side. The Kaga would emerge from the beneath them and silk out into the gardens like gray angels and patrol quietly, ethereally over the grounds keeping watch over their charges till morning came again and Hecate returned to the humans.
But now Hecate was cold, and empty. The school and the dormitories had been shut down and the Kaga shuffled away to Arsan Duolai with the students so the Aurors there could return to Hecate to guard her now. The windows were boarded over, and every unnecessary light was extinguished as the Aurors cluttered together in dimly lit offices playing cards or drinking to avoid the sense of unease that was rapidly overtaking the soul. Everything was tight and nervous, and reminded Sky of the photos she had seen of a batten down London during the Blitz. She realized then, that for all her grace and all her serenity- Hecate was still a living, breathing entity that could feel fear just like London had.
Just like they all did.
Sky crept closer to Hawke, still not speaking in the hopes he would sense her presence and do her the favor of speaking first. She did not want to break his concentration but felt compelled to be with him now. To say it was fear would be shaming this need; it was not fear- for if anything, it could be described (and in doing so would only capture one aspect of it) as courage. It was that special breed of courage that only a woman can feel for her man and that would cause her to come to him silently when he needed this strength most. One could also describe it as love but, like calling it courage, this title would limit it as well. Love has been labeled as something that is passionate and strong but also fleeting and driven by some carnal urge that is nowhere near what the true ideal is. The love felt now was that special breed of love that comes in quietness that transcends the foolish, fleeting passion felt by the young and goes rather to the very soul of the other person and fulfills it by soothing every fear.
Sky couldn't understand it, and in truth didn't feel the need to. Things like that never needed to be understood, only experienced, like faith or hope. So, like that, Sky accepted this desire and touched Hawke's arm.
Phoenix never looked away from the darkened window. "I remember we use to call Kaiser the Ghost behind his back. It was the way he use to wander around Hecate aimlessly after Jesse died that made us call him that. He had always been so full of life and joy that to see him then was painful. We all use to call him Caesar in the early days, and there was never a man like him before. We were all called Princes of Hecate, but he was the King. There was something he possessed, something he knew that we couldn't. He use to walk like nothing could happen without his say so and we all believed it.
Then, Jesse died and things just turned cold. It all became cursed. He didn't possess the same spirit that he had before. His eyes were distant, almost scared. He became paranoid, frightened of everything; use to drag around that kid Sydney with him like the boy could predict the future and somehow save him from it. We all knew Kaiser blamed Hecate for Jesse's death but he never said anything aloud. He just kept on because the Aurors was all he knew.
Things got better when Severus was born. Kaiser was alive again. He had his purpose back. He never wanted Severus to wear an Auror's uniform and worked to make sure he never had too. I've often wondered, had Kaiser lived a little longer, would he have been able to achieve that dream. I've wondered if he had been able to save Snape from the Aurors, would things have been different."
"Aiden, you can't know why things happen…"
"We did this to him." Hawke said simply, turning to Sky and staring into her sightless eyes. "Severus was never meant to become an Auror but we let him, and why? Because we needed our traditions? It wasn't fair. Not to him, and definitely not to Kaiser. There's a magic in it when someone gives his life to ensure something and we defied that. We broke something that shouldn't have been touched. Maybe all that will happen…won't be for good or evil, it'll just be revenge. The revenge of a father for his son."
"Master Hawke?" Hawke and Sky both turned to the door. Peace Cassidy was standing there with wide, uncertain eyes. "Master Hawke, it's Memory."
"What about it?"
"It's burning, sir."
"So it begins." Hawke heard Sky whisper by his side. Inhaling the Phoenix raised his head and nodded. "Very well, inform Grant and Lee to get their teams ready for my arrival and go to investigate. Wands at the ready. Take Mistress Falls to the medic ward and tell them to stand by for casualties."
"Yes sir." Peace whispered. He held out his arm. "Mistress?"
Sky turned and kissed Hawke's cheek. "Come back to me."
"I'll see you up top." He whispered as she left with her arm resting on Peace's shoulder. He felt suddenly very old and very tired but knew he could not falter now. Not when the final judgment was so close to being completed.
His tired, old hands fell to the table as he picked up one of his famous gauntlets. Thick leather imbued with bronze sigils of two birds whose wings spread upwards and out to embrace the whole wrist. These were the pieces of armor that made him a legend. They had been cast and molded by his mother to ward away almost any spells like a shield would block a spear and in his sixty years of life, they had never failed him.
But they never seemed so heavy as when he fastened them today. He tightened them and flinched slightly from the pain but took comfort in it. He needed something secure and this would be it. Then, slowly and with the whole of Hecate resting on his shoulders he went to met his fate.
The wind was playing tricks with Snape's long coat. The Navy duster was flipping around his legs like some mighty dragon's tail, giving Snape a little ego boost he would deny if anyone noticed. His boots were making too much noise on the cobblestone roads to shield his presence, so he drew his wand and continued on the path.
In his other hand, he kept fiddling with an old ring he had donned after years of it hiding away with the rest of his past in Akel Dama.
His wedding band from his "marriage" to Dahlia Wyvern.
It was white gold and engraved on the inside with a Bible verse, Psalm 91:11. The verse spoke of Angels protecting you in all things and it had been his lucky charm back during his Auror days. It seemed fitting that he should wear it again now especially since it was now his turn to save the Angel. Now secretly Snape had been preparing himself for anything and everything that could possibly been waiting for him in Hogsmeade but somehow, when he saw Ari next all those carefully placed mental barriers and strongholds failed.
There was a figure crouching on the ground near her. Ari's eyes were closed as if slumber. Her coat was missing and shirt was torn, revealing the purpled shoulders and a large dark bruise from were the Vampire had drained her to within an inch of her life. She looked already dead.
No, don't think about it…She couldn't be dead. He couldn't have failed.
Don't make a sound…Any lesser creature would have already been dead by now, but not Ari.
Don't make a sound…Drawing himself up to his full height and prowess, Snape raised his wand to center on the Vampire's chest and prepared himself. He glanced at Ari for a moment, then occurred to him that this was the first time he had not encountered vampires since he killed their clan leader and this one was probably not going to be happy to see him. He also knew, acutely, that he was probably going to this.
"Hey, Lestat! That belongs to me. Put her down, gently and step away before I have to hurt you."
The Vampire jerked his head up and hissed. His sharp piercing blue eyes narrowed in recognition.
"I know you." It said, still holding close to his prize. "You are the one who killed Daniel."
"Yeah that's right." Snape returned smugly, then added. "Oh, gee I'm sorry. Was he important to you?" He hated himself for wasting time Ari didn't have but he couldn't appear panicked.
"It's of no matter now. In truth, I think I should thank you. Because of you, I am in control of the clan and of her. And now, I take her."
Snape tensed as he watched the vampire draw blood from his wrist and move it closer to Ari's lips. He took a step forward. "Do it, and I'll kill you!"
"Is death all you know?" The demon taunted. "No wonder she worshipped
you. It's no matter now, however. She's already mine."
Snape readjusted his grip on
his wand. "I killed my own uncle, don't think I'll have qualms about killing
you."
"But would you risk missing and hitting her?"
Erised moved slightly. Beneath her eyelids, the pupils began to flutter as her blue lips trembled. Those gray eyes opened partially, and wandered unfocused through the dark night. Her head lolled to one side, meeting the vampire's eyes. For a split second, Snape swore he saw her smile at him. It was then he noticed the great care the demon used when rousing her from her sleep and, despite himself, Snape felt a swell of anger and jealousy that caused his helplessness to boil over.
Then, Erised turned and glimpsed Snape. Her lips parted in disbelief as shades of awe colored her face. She seemed to view him as some vision that would accompany her to the afterlife. She stared at him for a long time before straining in a choked whisper two words that changed the world.
"Bela." She called as the vampire pressed his bleeding wrist to her lips. She seemed to consider drinking for a moment, before pulling away from it and meeting Severus' eyes.
Snape exhaled a trembling breath, and smiled uneasily. She had given him hope and strength and in that moment had cleared his mind. The heart in his chest began to deep faster, deeper and caused adrenaline to surge through his blood. He adjusted his grip on his wand and steadied himself, assured now in his victory today.
There was still hope.
The vampire had rose, and stepped back, his face torn into a mask of clear disbelief and hate. He was staring at Erised as if she was some strange creature he no longer understood. He glanced at Snape in wonder before turning back to this figure that laid before him like a slain animal offered up in sacrifice.
"You would damn yourself to mortality and death because of him?" He asked her. "What? Do you think he'd take you back and forgive you?"
Erised turned away, either unwilling or too week to answer.
"So be it." The demon whispered after a time, he turned hatefully to face Snape. "But he wouldn't want you if he knew. Still, see if he'll have you after all you have done. I will waiting for you when you discover the truth."
The vampire drew back for the last time but in doing so, he slammed his weight on Erised's crippled hand. She screamed in inhumane pain as she scrambled to protect the remains of the member. The terror on Erised's face was palpable as she stared at her disfigurement and then drew her attention to the fingers that lay severed on the ground.
Severus was beside her by the time she went backwards; ready to catch her as she fell. Craning his head, he turned to meet her weak eyes. "I've got you," He told her. "I'm right here."
Erised was trembling as shock began to set in. She felt painfully light in his arms, and there was a small, bitter smile that overtook her and made her eyes sparkle. "I always wanted to be in your arms again."
In all his years of war and death, it suddenly occurred to Snape that the last time he had cradled a dying person in his arms it had been his Riener. Back then, the death had been a release, a salvation from a dark prison that his uncle had been trapped in and now, finally, was released from. There would be nothing pure and cleansing about Erised's death. This time, death would be final and cold. It would be unwelcome and harsh, like first light to unprepared eyes. It would have no purpose- either in punishment or in healing. It would be pointless and Snape could not accept it.
He could not lose such a memory to chaos and chance. He controlled this war. He made the nations trembled. He was the Dark Prince, the Miracle Maker, the Morning Star, the one constant figure in this war and he would not allow something he had birthed to overrule his wishes. He could not- would not- lose this one thing when all others had been taken from him.
He looked down, and stared into the face of this stranger resting his arms. Despite the swell of one, he could see the dark gray of those eyes that had been with him always. From her own ever quiet, ever watching eyes that had followed him from the hidden corners of Hecate Compound, and had looked on him in awe and complete devotion to Eoin's quiet steadiness in the fallen Kaga's wordless accusation that never allowed the Dark Prince to forget his past or the real reason he ruled now and even unto the eyes of Angelo Malone that watched him as a teacher and looked upon him for instruction and guidance.
Severus had known those eyes despite the different color; despite Angelo's youth he had known them from the first moment- because he had known the family. The Malone family, in one incarnation or another, seemed to look over him like a chorus of guardian angels for his entire life.
He couldn't fail them now.
In the distance, Hogwarts gleamed readily like a long desired haven and frantically, Severus made his way to the school. There was no way for him to have known at that distance and in his state of mind, that all he had seen tonight was merely a ruse meant to confuse for a few moments while war began.