Hey! Sorry for the delay but I needed to finish chapter 36 before actually posting this one. This is getting GOOD..! I really like the plot… but I want to thank you all for your reviews which were great. And please… feel free to give me a piece of your mind because I really need to know your thoughts about this story right now. If you enjoy the it, please read and review! It will make my day. I'll answer your review 6 days after I upload (that would be January 26th) on my livejournal: . You can check it out if you want.
So… here it is; chapter 35… enjoy! (The end is near)
Chapter 35: The day the magical world became real
As you get older you figure out certain things about life. One of them is that human beings are cursed with knowledge because when you comprehend something, you cannot ignore it. Human beings understand, therefore, from the moment they are born that sooner or later they are going to die. And their hearts fill with bitterness and sadness when they reflect about it, as it is expected.
They ask silly questions to themselves that they know they will fail to answer with precision such as: "What reason do I have to live? Is there something worth living for? And many people, believe me when I tell you, understand from the moment they learn to breathe that happiness is essential for the wellbeing of the soul. How do we reach it, though? For some people such as Lucius Malfoy and his Death Eaters, sins are the straight way to contentment.
And so, they were all sitting around Lucius' fireplace where he was standing like a godlike figure in the altar of power, having a conversation that would change the curse of history.
"As I said in my previous owls," he almost shouted for everyone to hear for there were quite a lot of people, "Severus has earned my trust and I see no evidence of his disloyalty," he told his Death Eaters who had gathered at Malfoy Manor to listen to what Lucius had to say and follow further orders.
"Do you really think that Lord Vold… the Dark Lord would be pleased with Snape marrying a mudblood?," Macnair wondered, standing up for everyone to see where the question had come from and who had dared contradict Lucius.
"Mcnair, you ignorant butcher, is evident that you have not met Hermione Granger," Lucius stated, staring at Mcnair with pure evil in his eyes. It was quite clear that Mcnair's services were needed because, sure enough if he hadn't been useful, Lucius would have killed him in the spot, "I am sure that Lord Voldemort would have been glad about Severus' choice, as odd as it is. The Dark Lord recognized who his true servants were from their attitudes and mental power and he never doubted Severus loyalty. Who are we to evaluate the Dark Lord's judgement?," he asked to the bunch of people, who agreed with Lucius instantly. Party because they were scared and partly because they respected Lord Voldemort too much to even sigh at the bare mention of his name.
"Yes, you are right, Lucius," Macnair said, sitting down again, regretting his intromission.
"However, it would be prudent to have a second plan, in case my friend disappoints me," he suggested with a smirk; he was actually enjoying it, "In case he fails to kill Dumbledore, Hermione Granger will die," he finished, contemplating the realization of his own dreams. Lucius wanted to face Mrs. Snape soon because he had such contradictory feelings towards her that he could not understand why he wanted to hurt her so much. It was not because she was a mudblood, or at least not entirely because of that. He wanted to hurt her for choosing Severus, for ignoring him.
He wished more than anything in the world to kill Dumbledore and control the Wizard World, make no mistake. But a tiny part of him also hoped their plan failed for it would be a decent excuse to kill the both of them.
He had a plan that could ruin the lives of the people we know and love and who belong to the side of light; to the side of goodness. Fortunately for most of us, Albus Dumbledore also had developed a scheme; a brilliant scheme, I dare say. The only thing left to do- apart from waiting- was to find the appropriate venom and that, my friends, was Severus' job.
And believe me when I tell you that Severus Snape is always efficient in whatever he does.
"What are you doing?," Hermione asked when she entered Severus' private laboratories. She remembered being there in the past when she had helped Professor Snape with a project Dumbledore had asked him to develop to help Neville's parents. But now the situation was different and Hermione had no idea of what Severus was doing in the middle of the night, "Why are you working at this time of night? Can't it wait until tomorrow?," she asked, completely unaware of the situation in which Hogwarts found itself into.
"I am afraid, it cannot," he replied, too busy mixing powders and liquid ingredients to pay too much attention to Hermione who was quite upset. She had had an emotional day and all she wanted was to fall asleep in the arms of the man she loved; to feel protected and safe in a world that was falling to pieces. But he seemed to pay no attention to her words. He was concealing something from her and she did not like it. She did not like it at all.
"Severus, what is going on?," she wondered, assuming that he was hiding something from her. And she wasn't wrong, as usual.
"Nothing is going on, dear. Go back to bed, I will be there with you in a second," he promised while pouring some venoms together, not really paying attention to her every word, as usual. But can you blame him? The death of man he loved as a father had been ordered to him, not only from the Dark Side but from the White Side and he could only pray for Dumbledore's plan to work. Because if for some reason Lucius won the final battle he could kiss this world goodbye.
Some minutes later, he heard the door being slammed with great strength. She was mad, but he knew in his heart he had no choice but to hide the plan from her. The more she knew, the more the possibilities of her being killed. And Severus would rather eat a stone taken from the sto…, "EUREKA!," he shouted, as if he had founded the elixir of life. He had come up to, in fact, with a way to save the world.
So when he found the right ingredients and mixed them correctly with the right proportions of water and oils, he ran immediately from his laboratories to his personal chambers where Hermione was peacefully sleeping on a black leather sofa, and throwing some Floo powder into the flames which turned green, he left the dungeons to become a murderer. Or so was the plan.
The journey from his chambers to Dumbledore's was the longest he had ever had in his whole life. He was anxious and he had reasons to be uneasy and apprehensive. He was going to kill Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and that was not an easy job indeed considering that not even the Dark Lord had managed to vanquish him. While the ashes of grey and green covered his nostrils, he closed his eyes and started thinking of his beloved wife. He hated not paying attention to her. A difficult task had been assigned to him but that was no excuse to left her sleeping alone on that cold leather couch without even kissing her forehead. He regretted not kissing her forehead.
A strong desire to go back filled his chest. As if that would be last time he was ever going to see her. "Don't be a sensitive fool!," he kept telling himself while removing the ashes from inside his nose with a subtle movement from his wand. He knew he needed to go back; he had been correct that very moment when he found Hermione crying in the middle of the Great Hall, surrounded by no one, tears running down her check.
Strangely enough, when he had made the decision of going back, he opened his mouth to change directions but found himself in the cold stone floor of Dumbledore's chambers. It was too late now.
"She is probably upset because I paid her no attention," he said out loud when he found himself inches away from Dumbledore's door, "Sir, Sir," Severus said, knocking frantically on the wooden door once near, trying to wake Dumbledore up, though unsuccessfully, "Sir, wake up. I have found it," he stated, knocking the door even harder.
"Why do you feel the need to wake me up at this time of night? Why aren't you in bed with your wife?," Dumbledore asked from behind Severus, completely shocking him.
"Sir, I have found it," he said calmly now, "I have found the solution,"
"I knew you would," Dumbledore said, "But why aren't you with your wife? Wives should be never left alone," he stated winking. Severus understood and smirked, as if offended by Dumbledore's insinuations.
"Sir, I am afraid that this is much more important than…" he started to say, but then reflecting about his own words he changed his mind and said, "you are right, sir. I have no excuses, but I thought you would like to know tonight,"
"Where is it?," Dumbledore asked, looking through his half moon spectacles. Severus proceeded, then, to insert his right hand into his black robes. When he drew his hand out of his robes, he was holding a yellow bottle and a stone.
"Do you wish to keep them?," Severus wondered, stretching his hand for Dumbledore to reach the objects.
"Yes, I wish to keep them inside," Dumbledore stated, grabbing the items with his right hand.
"As you wish sir," Severus said, too focused on the floor to pay Dumbledore attention. He had, apparently, lost something in the middle of the stones for he was keen on not taking his eyes off of the ground.
"We will see each other again, my old boy," Dumbledore promised, caressing Severus' head as if he were a child. In Dumbledore's eyes he was, indeed, the same frightened adolescent seeking comfort that had once come to his office because he wanted nothing to do with life. Now, in front of him, stood a grown man who wished more than anything else to breathe the sweet air of another winter. He was a family man now. He had a wife. He had a home to go to when his job was done. But then again, the fright in his eyes only depicted that the innocent child he had once known was still there, buried in the depths of his soul.
"I know, sir," Severus said, still not looking at him in the eye. But when he no longer felt the weight of Dumbledore's hand on his head, he looked up only to see the end.
He had eaten the stone and drank the bitter combinations of potions until there was not even a drop left in the little tube.
"Sir," Severus shouted, but it was too late; Dumbledore collapse into his arms, breathing for the last time the icy air that only January brings to England.
The Wizarding World was vulnerable now. And it was currently up to Severus, to continue with the plan. He was the World's only hope.