Title: Lady of the Night
Author Name: Saerry Snape
Rating: PG-13, may be R in later chapters
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Inspired by Lady Erised's wonderful Snapefics (specifically The Prince Returns, When the Past Comes Back, and Betrayal), Constantine1453's Harry Potter and the Trials and of His Life, and my Snapefic Nothing But the Rain. The Dark Prince officially belongs to Lady Erised; I use him with her permission. Lady of the Night is the sequel to my fic The Dark Prince.
Summary: Sixteen years after Hermione Granger gave birth to a dark-haired, green-eyed little girl, the past has returned to haunt the victims of a time in September of 2002. The year is 2019 and The Dark Prince has been released…
Lying in my bed
I hear a clock tick
And think of you
Caught up in circles
Confusion, there's nothing new
Flashback, warm nights
Almost left behind
Cindy Lauper – Time After Time
Chapter 21
…left behind…
Evan sagged against Severus when they Disapparated, his head spinning. He had never Apparated before in his life and to have done so so suddenly had rattled his nerves. His breathe came in ragged, gulping gasps until a gloved hand fell over his mouth.
"Be silent as the grave," hissed Severus' voice in his ear. "Take a moment and get your bearings. When you are ready, draw your wand. Stay directly behind me as we go and do not tarry nor wander off. Nod if you understand me."
Evan nodded and Severus heaved a heavy sigh.
"Good. Are you ready?"
The tawny head nodded again. Severus let his gloved hand fell to his side and with a flick of his wrist, his wand dropped from a sheath on his forearm into his hand. He straightened and waited until Evan drew his wand before he strode over to the door of the dank room they were in. Its walls were cold, slimy stone and water dripped from the ceiling – as though they were under a lake.
Severus flicked his wand at the door, which opened silently on hinges that should have squealed through the rust on them. He waved Evan forward and together they began their slow descent into the depths of the Death Eater fortress.
All of the Death Eater's that remained sixteen years after so many were captured were gathered in the room at the very bottom of the underground fortress. Of the forty there had been, only twenty-nine remained.
That number included the Prince himself.
Severus and Evan – who now sported a Death Eater robe – slipped into the room at the back of the crowd. Both had their cowls pulled low over their faces so no one could recognize them. At least not before they could put their plan into action.
"Bow."
Evan shivered involuntarily as he heard Voldemort's serpentine voice and Severus casually touched his shoulder in a reassuring manner.
The taller wizard was silently blessing the fact that Evan was short for a sixteen-year-old boy. He could see over the heads of most of the other Death Eater's to what was going on beyond their ranks.
There, seated on a stone throne carved into a likeness of the Midgard Serpent of Norse mythology, was Voldemort, his old eyes still gleaming with power. Behind him and to his right, hovered the Dark Prince, masked and standing tall. His green eyes were bright behind the slits in his alabaster mask.
And kneeling before the demonic duo, clad in black fighting leathers with her left arm bared, was Helena. Her short, dark hair fell about her face but what Severus could see what appeared to be a vertical line burned over her left eye.
The Prince's Mark, burned onto his goddaughter's face!
How dare he?
How dare he mar that face with that unholy symbol?
Severus' eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a sneer. For that, Potter would pay dearly.
"Give me your arm, my child."
Evan started and Severus gripped him about the waist.
"We cannot interfere," he hissed into the boy's ear.
"He's going to Mark her!" hissed Evan back.
Severus looked down at him with sadness in his dark eyes.
"I know."
Helena extended her left arm and Voldemort took it in his pale, spidery hands. He laid his left hand onto her forearm just below her elbow as his right gripped her elbow.
"Tonight," he hissed, "we welcome a new lamb into the fold. Sixteen years we have waited for her and now she comes to us – comes to be Marked as one of us. Comes to take her place at her father's side. To take her place as my Heir and Successor."
There was silence from the Death Eater's and the Prince. None dared applaud their dark master.
"Helena Lilliane Granger, you are here of your own will and not another's?"
"Yes, my Lord," said Helena.
"You willingly submit your will to me and give me your utmost loyalty?"
"Until my life ends at your hand or another's, my Lord."
"You willingly take my Mark upon your body? And the Mark of the Prince? To mark your allegiance to us?"
"I live only to serve, my Lord."
"Then be Marked," said Voldemort, his fingers tightening about her forearm. Flesh burned and Evan turned his face away, trying not to smell it – and not to acknowledge that his best friend and the girl he loved was becoming the one thing she had tried her whole life to avoid.
She was becoming what she had been born to be.
Severus closed his eyes as he heard Helena's sharp intake of breath.
Forgive me, Hermione, he thought. Forgive me for being unable to protect your most treasured possession.
"Now," said Voldemort after a moment. "Rise, my child. Rise and take your place at my side."
Helena rose slowly, sliding her sleeve down over the place where the Dark Mark had been burnt into her flesh. She stepped up onto the dais the throne sat upon and took her place at Voldemort's left side.
The Prince turned and held out a small bundle of cloth towards her. Helena looked at it in confusion and Voldemort turned.
"It is a gift, my child. Take it."
Slowly, she reached out and took the bundle from the Prince's hands. Holding it with one hand, she peeled back the cloth to reveal a porcelain mask similar to the Prince's. Only this mask was as black as the leathers she wore.
Three silver bars adorned the left eye, shimmering dimly.
"Put it on," purred Voldemort.
Helena smiled and slipped the mask onto her face, her green eyes shining from behind the slitted eyes. She bowed and murmured, "Thank you for your gift, my Lord."
"Anything for you, my dear Lady," purred Voldemort, reaching from her hand. As hers settled in his, he added, "My Lady of the Night."
"Can we continue, my Lord?" asked the Prince softly.
"Yes. Continue as you will."
"Very well. Come now, Severus. Don't hide back there forever."
Evan jerked in surprise and Severus pushed the boy behind him.
"Fuck," said Evan.
Severus, not quite so eloquent in crisis', looked across the room into his goddaughter's eyes. Trying desperately to reach her.
It didn't work.
"What shall we do with them, my Lady?" asked the Prince, turning his head to acknowledge the Lady of the Night.
The emerald eyes glittered behind the dark mask.
"Kill them."
"Fuck," commented Severus, finding his eloquence in the now life-threatening situation.
"Fuck, fuck, and fuck."
How the hell'd we wind up like this
And why weren't we able
To see the signs that we missed
And try to turn the tables
Now the story's played out like this
Just like a paperback novel
Nickelback – Someday
Chapter 22
…turn the tables…
"Or better yet," said the Lady. "Allow them to fight. Surely my Lord would enjoy the sport."
"I would enjoy a bit of entertainment," purred Voldemort. "What did you have in mind, my sweet one?"
"Why the old Prince against the new, of course, my Lord. And the boy for me to…play with."
"'Boy?'" repeated Evan incredulously.
Severus spared a glance over his shoulder at the teenager and hissed, "Grab the pouch at my belt."
"What…?"
"Just grab it, boy."
Evan reached out and tugged the pouch free, prying its tightly drawn cords open. The moment a small space opened at the bag's top, the spell woven into it earlier activated and it turned into a Portkey. Severus saw Evan's horrified face for only a moment before the boy was gone.
He, at least, was safe.
Severus, on the other hand, was outnumbered, outmanned, and outgunned.
But he wasn't about to give up.
He, after all, had been the Dark Prince once.
Time for him to reclaim the title.
"If it is a fight you wish, Lady," he purred, reaching into his robes. "Then it is a fight you shall have."
He withdrew the porcelain mask from his pocket and slipped it over his face, breathing in the scent of blood and sweat. Slowly, he let loose of all that made him Severus Snape and allowed the creature that was the Dark Prince to take over.
Behind his mask, he smirked.
"Come, my dear successor. Let us dance."
The other Prince laughed and lifted his wand, waving the point in an idle circle.
"As you will, old man."
The Lady stepped behind Voldemort's throne as the Death Eater's moved back, creating an empty space in the center of the room. The two Prince's stepped forward, wands drawn.
Black eyes stared from behind the slitted eyes across the space between them to the green eyes that stared out from behind an identical mask.
"Here we are again, Potter," purred Severus.
"Yes," hissed Harry. "And this time there's no Hermione to save you."
"Nor you, Potter. I should have killed you when I had the chance."
"Yes, you should have. I wouldn't have missed the opportunity."
Severus smirked behind his mask.
"Trust me, Potter," he growled. "When I get the chance again, I won't spare your life."
"If you get the chance, that is," shot Harry. "Commoveo!"
"Speculum!"
A light blue half-shield formed into front of Severus and sent Harry's curse ricocheting back at him. He dodged but it struck him a glancing blow anyway, sending him spinning to the ground.
"Barathrum!"
A yawning pit opened up underneath Harry but he had already rolled away. He flipped off the ground onto his feet and spun, wand tip glowing violently.
"Crucio!"
Severus clenched his jaw as the curse struck him, sending ripples of pain echoing through the nerves in his body. But if Potter thought he could defeat him with that curse, he had another thing coming.
Forcing his body to straighten when it wanted to curl up, Severus lifted his wand arm and aimed it. Green eyes widened behind the alabaster mask, causing the original Prince to smirk.
"I won't be defeated so easily this time, Potter," hissed Severus. "Perimo!"
A whirling, golden circle of light flew from Severus' wand and shot across the room. Harry dodged it as it swooped at his head but he missed it as it came back at him. The golden circle dived towards his left arm and struck, cleanly slicing off his hand and half his forearm.
"Fuck!" shouted Harry, clutching the arm to him as it began to gush blood. The golden circle swung around behind him and opened up a gash in the back of his robes as it struck him across the back. Hissing in pain, he swung at it with his wand, sending it towards the gathered Death Eater's.
Severus laughed in triumph as it raked through them, cutting off limbs where it could find them and creating gasping wounds where it couldn't.
Blood pooled on the stones beneath their feet, slipping between the cracks.
"Diripio!" shouted Harry, flicking his wand at Severus.
"Iuguolo!" roared Severus as Harry's curse opened numerous cuts on his face. He could feel more on his body but by now, with adrenaline pumping through him and the creature that had become the Dark Prince in control, he felt no pain.
As he licked blood from his cut lips, he looked across from him and smiled in triumph as he saw Potter's hand about his throat. Blood seeped from beneath his gloved hand, proof that Severus' curse had struck true.
Soon enough, Potter would bleed to death.
A fitting end for a traitor.
"Eviscero," snarled Severus, flicking the tip of his wand up sharply before bringing it down to point at Harry's unprotected stomach.
He tried to dodge to curse but it struck him full on before he could move far. His scream of pain was unheard through the blood gurgling from his cut throat as his robes were sliced open by the curse. It then ripped his stomach open, allowing his blood to pool onto the floor.
Severus walked slowly over to Harry's now limp body, gingerly stepping into the bloody pool. He kicked the holly wand away from the reaching hand then trod hard on that same hand.
Harry's pained gasp was lost in a blood filled gurgle.
"Goodbye, Potter," said Severus as he knelt down by the beaten man. "I hope you have no regrets."
"O-only that I…that I d-did not kill…you," hissed Harry painfully. He coughed suddenly and blood appeared on the mouth of his mask.
Severus reached out and pulled the mask away, revealing a face that was haggard from sixteen years in Azkaban prison. But the emerald eyes still shone with defiance and hate, just as the lips still curled in a sneer through the blood spattered upon them.
"S-see you in H-Hell, professor," sneered Harry.
"I look forward to it," said Severus blandly.
Harry grinned ferally then he jerked, eyes staring at the dank ceiling above them suddenly. His remaining hand came up and grasped the front of Severus' robes, allowing him to pull himself up a little.
"I…" he began.
Whatever he was going to say was lost. Harry James Potter fell back into the pool of his own blood in the next instant, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
He was dead.
"Pity."
Severus looked up at Voldemort, who was frowning at Harry's dead body. The scarlet eyes moved up and met the dark ones that glared from behind the alabaster mask.
"What will you do now, my Angel of Death?" asked Voldemort. "You have slain your successor and my Death Eaters. What shall you do now?"
"He can die at my hand," hissed the Lady of the Night. She stepped out from behind Voldemort's throne, her wand lifted and at ready. "I will not leave my father's murderer alive."
"No," said Severus. "You shouldn't. But I am not the one that murdered your father, Helena. He is." He pointed at Voldemort as he continued, "He is the one who killed the man your father once was. A good man. A foolish, noble fool of a man but a good one."
"My Lord killed no one."
"Look again, child."
"I will not," spat Helena. "Decollo!"
Severus dodged the curse as it shot at him, rolling out of the pool of blood. He landed on all fours, breathing heavily as he suddenly felt all of the wounds on his body burning with pain. Forcing his screaming nerves to be silent, he steadied himself and then rose, slowly – like Death rising from the ground.
"Very well, child," he said, lifting his wand once more.
"Let us fight."
Author's NoteEveryone see where the story title came from?
And all spells used by the two Prince's and Helena in Chapter 22 and any subsequent chapter that do not appear in canon, are from my A Guide to Curses. Or from any of my other stories.