Chapter Nineteen: Duty and Honor
The Order meeting that evening was not a positive one. Harry realized too late that giving them all time to think things through may have been a mistake, and he spent much of the hour and a half sitting at the head of the long table rubbing his eyes, exasperated.
He was exhausted. He was sick of living this way, but the only alternative was... well the prophecy would take care of that.
He wasn't ready to die yet. He wanted to see the child Ginny carried... his child, born. He knew there would be no more babies. Unless Ginny remarried again, she would have eight, and only eight.
At least they had beat Molly and Arthur's final count.
At that moment, hearing Hermione and Charlie bickering, Harry snapped.
"I have had enough!" He stood angrily. After a moment of unsuppressed rage, he realized that every eye in the room was on him, and they were all silent.
"I'm sorry, Ginny," he looked at his wife of so short a time. Too short a time. "I tried. I tried to do it your way, but I can't do this."
"I understand, Harry."
"Harry," Arthur smiled down the table at him. "It's never easy to lead."
"I'm sick to death of leading, Arthur," Harry said. "And I rather think I can honestly say that this is the last time I intend to do it."
There were gasps around the room, and Harry glanced around.
"While we sit here, bickering about which side of the school to apparate to, that Dark bastard is also making plans. Plans for the next attack. The longer we take bitching at each other about inconsequential details, the more time he has to kill innocents.
"And I, for one," Harry placed his hands firmly on the the table and leaned forward menacingly. "Have seen enough of the death of innocents to last me several lifetimes!
"Now, I realize it would be very nice if we all could decide on what to do, and just do it, preferably in the next few hours. Consensus is lovely. But as that doesn't seem to be possible, I'm going to tell you what I have planned, and you can govern yourselves accordingly.
"Tomorrow night, I intend to apparate into the woods near the school. I am going to wait in those woods until I can be reasonably sure that those children still in residence are safely tucked away for the night. At that point, I intend to use one of the tunnels that my cousin's son has told us of to get inside the school.
"Then, I am going to destroy every Death Eater I see, and pray to Merlin that I manage to find their bloody ringleader before I get mowed down by a stray Death Curse. I intend to take him out, fulfill the damned prophecy, and see it ended, once and for all.
"If anyone would like to join me, I would appreciate it if you were here by nine tomorrow evening."
"Harry..." Hermione began.
"Mione," he turned to her, pain in his eyes. "I love you dearly, and wouldn't hurt you for the world, but I am finished discussing this. Whether you join me or not is something that you and Ron need to discuss between you. It has nothing more to do with me.
"Good night, everyone."
And with that, he strode from the room, leaving stunned silence behind him.
I can do this, I can do this... Harry chanted in his mind from where he sat in this high desk chair, his head resting back against the soft leather upholstery, his eyes closed.
"Harry?"
His eyes snapped open to see his friend framed in the doorway.
"Ron?"
"I... I know you need some time alone," Ron said, watching Harry closely. "But I just wanted to tell you..."
"What is it, Ron?"
"I'm with you, mate," Ron said softly, his concerned eyes on his friend. "To hell and back, no matter what, I'm with you."
Harry took a deep breath, looking across the room into the eyes of the one person who had been at his side, through thick and thin, since he was eleven years old. It was Ron who had sacraficed himself so that Harry could go on and save the Philosopher's Stone... it had been Ron who had walked with him down into the Chamber of Secrets, it had been Ron who had cheered him on during the tournaments in fourth year, it had been Ron who had insisted on taking advanced Auror training with Harry, regardless of the exhaustion and lack of a life while they did it. It had been Ron who had stood next to him during the final battle with Voldemort, Ron who he had trusted the defense of his back to, and vice versa. It had been Ron who had held Harry back from killing Malfoy, countless times, but that last time as Hermione lay in the hospital wing after the final battle, and keeping Harry out of Azkaban as a result.
It had been Ron who had shed his shirt and grabbed a shovel next to Harry when they dug Dumbledore's grave, silently, because he understood that Harry had issues to deal with with Dumbledore's passing that could not be solved by anything except hard physical labor and eventual exhaustion.
And it had been Ron who had stood next to Harry at Dean and Ginny's wedding, his hand on his shoulder, his eyes understanding the pain that showed only in Harry's eyes as he looked at his friend. It had been Ron who had gotten falling-down drunk with Harry the next night, and carried him back to Fred and George's flat, where the three brothers had watched over Harry while he couldn't watch over himself, when he didn't care what happened.
It had been Ron who had moved into Potter Manor, to keep Harry from being alone and becoming the recluse he would have become had he been left to his own devices. And it had been Ron who had suggested that he offer a home to Ginny and the girls after Dean's death. Harry would never have dared otherwise.
Ron had always been there, and Harry knew that friendship such as that had didn't go away. Ever.
"Thanks, Ron."
"Hey," Ron said, grinning hugely. "If nothing else, we'll give them one hell of a run for it, right?"
"Damned straight, we will," Harry agreed, a soft smile playing at his lips.
"Well, I'm going to go and find Mione. When she finds out I'm going with you..."
"There'll be no stopping her, you know," Harry said, knowing full well what Hermione's reaction would be.
"Yeah," Ron flushed. "I know. But I can try."
"You do that, Ron."
Moments after Ron left, Ginny entered.
"Harry? Are you coming to bed, love?"
"Soon, Gin. I have... a couple of things I need to do."
"Okay," she looked at him closely. "Do you want me to stay with you?"
Harry looked over at her. At four months pregnant, he knew she tired easily. He saw the slight bulge under her sweater and felt a stab of pain. He knew he wouldn't be there to see this child born.
"No, go on up. I'll be there shortly."
"Okay, Harry," she turned back to the door, but stopped before passing through into the hallway. She didn't turn back, but spoke. "And, Harry?"
"What, Gin?"
"I won't be coming tomorrow," she said quietly.
"I know, love."
"But it's not because I don't love you."
"I know."
"Or have faith in you."
Faith.
Harry nodded. Then, realizing she wasn't looking at him, said, "I know, Ginny."
When she left, Harry stood and made his way to the drinks cabinet, took the bottle of firewhiskey and a glass, and made for the sofa.
Tomorrow he might die. The prophecy said he would if he was to eliminate this Dark Lord...
So, tonight, he intended to get good and drunk.
"I'm going with Harry tomorrow night," Ron began, pacing in front of Hermione in their room, two floors above where Harry was pouring his first stiff shot of the night.
Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes but she nodded.
"I know."
"And," Ron continued. "I don't want you coming, Mione."
"I know."
"I mean it... you're too important..." Ron was working up a pretty good head of steam. Hermione considered, for a moment, arguing with him, but realized that, on this at least, she couldn't.
"I'll stay with Ginny, Ron."
"I don't want to hear..." Ron stopped, realizing what she had just said, and turned to look at her. "What?"
"I said, I'll stay with Ginny."
Ron stared blankly at her for a moment, then came and sat next to her on their bed.
"No argument?" he asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"What?"
"Mione, we've been fighting since we were eleven. Sometimes I even get to win. But not that easily. Something is up."
Hermione considered that.
"The first prophecy," she said after a moment.
"About Harry and Voldemort?" Ron looked confused.
"No!" Hermione was exasperated. "The first prophecy about us, Ron! The one about Mahood and... and me. And you."
"Ah," Ron nodded. "Well, what about it?"
"It says that we'll die together," she said simply.
Ron smiled sadly, "Oh. That."
"So if I don't go... You can't die if I'm not there, Ron."
"And you worked this all out on your own, love?"
"Ron," she turned tortured eyes up to him. "I have a really bad feeling about this. A really, really bad feeling."
"Mione..."
"I don't think that Harry is coming back from this one, Ron," she whispered. It was as close as she would come to breaking the promise she had made. "I'm certain of it."
Ron nodded. "I've got to admit that I've been... well, my auror senses have been on full alert lately. Don't worry, Mione. I'll get him back here."
"Ron," she said, laying a hand on his arm, the tears now freely falling down her cheeks. "I love Harry dearly, but you just worry about getting you back here, okay?"
"Harry?"
Harry sighed. Too many damned people in the house. He couldn't even get drunk in peace.
"What is it, Sev?"
"I was about to leave, but I see you could use some company."
"You just like my brandy," Harry smiled, waving Snape towards the drinks cabinet.
"I do admit, it is a particularly fine vintage, Potter," Snape said as he poured himself a glass and came to sit across from where Harry was sprawled on the sofa. He nodded towards Harry's glass. "How many of those have you had?"
"Three, so far," Harry glanced idly at the bottle. "Looks to be at least six left. By that time, I should have achieved my goal."
"The death of thousands of brain cells?" Snape asked.
Harry laughed, "Yes... I suppose. In twenty four hours or so, I doubt it will matter."
Severus stilled, instinctively realizing that what Harry was saying would not have been said but for the effects of the firewhiskey he'd already consumed.
"Oh?"
"I have a... bad feeling, Sev," Harry said quietly, and much less jovially. "This is the one."
"The one?"
Harry looked Snape in the eye, then continued.
"I faced Voldemort six times, Sev. The last time, I fully expected to not walk away. Tom had forty years of experience on me, and a really, really bad attitude. Not to mention a tested, tried and true ability with the Death Curse. I'd never used it, nor did I think I would be able to when it came down to it. The thought of using it sickened me, but... No one was more surprised than I was when I walked away from the final battle.
"Then, over the years, I took part in several auror operations before officially retiring from the ranks. I hated being an auror, but I came home each time relatively unscathed, despite my efforts to the contrary. It's funny... Ron says they still talk about some of the things... well, suffice to say that the only reason I took such risks that appeared to pay off so well was because I didn't really care whether I lived or died. After Ginny married Dean... well, I didn't know that I had anything much to live for. I'd fulfilled the prophecy, eliminated the Dark Lord, what more use did I have?
"Then, Mahood. Strangely, I wasn't that concerned about death even then. It didn't seem to be that great a threat. I mean, I knew it was possible, maybe even probable, and made arrangements in case it happened, but..."
Snape waited.
"But now," Harry sighed, shook his head, then raised his glass. After a moment, he looked up, meeting the eyes of his old professor. "Duty and honor, Sev," Harry said with a rueful smile. "That's what it's all about. Because I was the boy who lived, I had a duty to this world of ours. And my honor... what I had of it, insisted that I follow through.
"Once Voldemort was gone, duty became the reason I responded to every expectation, every time. Then, by the time Mahood came...it was habit.
"Now, I have Ginny, and our children. I have a duty to them..."
Harry looked down into his glass.
"Duty and honor," he shook his head, tossed back the remainder of his drink, and reach again for the bottle in front of him. "Life's a bitch, Sev."
Snape thought of this for a moment. This man had grown from a boy who had endured a childhood much similar to Snape's own, and Voldemort's. Yet he had become this man. This man who always, without fail, put the good of his loved ones, the good of others of their world, before his own.
Harry had a child about to be born, he had children and a beautiful wife, was young, and vital, and an asset to their world as the Minister of Magic. Yet tomorrow night, he had determined to go and hunt out danger personally, in the name of duty and honor.
How had they grown into such different men from such similar beginnings, the three of them? And how had Draco Malfoy grown into what he had become from the privileged beginning he had enjoyed? And Hermione Granger... a muggle child, who grew to become one of the most intelligent, able witches in their world.
Not to mention the Weasleys. As adults, Snape enjoyed the company of each of them. They had all become devoted members of the Order, who would die for each other without regret... yet they had endured a childhood of taunting and derogatory remarks because of their social and financial status. And yet, Percy Weasley had walked away from a safehouse, to certain death, to save Molly and Ginny from being found.
How did all of that happen? How did good come from bad, and bad from good?
Choices, he thought. Albus once said it was the choices we make...
And perhaps that meant that there was hope... Severus sipped from his glass.
"Harry..."
"What, Sev?"
"I have to apologize to you," Severus said quietly.
"Excuse me?" Harry looked shocked.
"I was..." Snape hesitated. "I apologize for my treatment of you as a child. My life, to that point, had not been a happy one, and some of that unhappiness was caused by choices I made before you were born. Choices that involved your parents. I cannot condone it now, but at the time, it seemed the only path open to me."
It was Harry's turn to be silent.
"Pride kills, Harry. Pride is more hurtful, in it's way, than hatred. Pride destroys you if it is allowed to rule you."
"Sev..."
"You have proven to be a very wise young man, Harry Potter. In my years with the Order since the fall of Voldemort, I have seen you grow, and become a much stronger leader than we have ever had, than Albus could have dreamt of being. And you have allowed me..."
Snape considered for a moment. "You have allowed me something that I never thought I would have. Something resembling a family. You and Ginny, your children, have become... important to me. And with the history that we have... I can only thank you, without understanding why you would allow it."
"Sev..."
"I must go," Snape stood hurriedly, obviously uncomfortable with the things he had revealed. "Duty and honor, Harry. You're not the only one who feels the pull of it. Some of us are, however, only just realizing that it calls to us, as well."
Harry was silent as he watched the older man place his glass on the tray.
"Goodnight, Sev."
Severus looked at him for a moment, his eyes clear.
"Goodbye, Harry."
Harry stood and followed the older man out of the room, but Snape had disapparated by the time Harry made it to the bottom of the stairs. Sighing, he looked around the front hall of his home, and nodded. It would be worth it.
He moved up the stairs to his room, to find Ginny asleep, curled into his pillow.
Yes, it would be worth it.
In a small clearing in the trees east of the school, a sudden breeze masked the sound of the wizard apparating. The breeze played with the long black robes, whipping them around the knees of the man who turned to look through the trees at the building standing in the distance. Lights still showed in the high windows, but he wouldn't have long to wait.
Clutching his cloak around him, he began to make his way around the clearing, looking for the entrance to the tunnel that he knew was there. Eventually, he found it, hidden behind a rock, leading down through the brambles and into darkness. He retrieved his wand from inside his robe and held it before him.
"Lumos," and there was light burning softly at the tip of it. He used it to guide his way into the tunnel. He would have to put it out once he got his bearings. He could not allow them to see the light of his wand before he was ready to reveal his presence.
He always knew that it would come full circle. This was it. And he was glad. He was ready to pay his debts and allow the end to come, so long as he could take a few of them with him... it might make their job tomorrow night easier. If he was very lucky, it would make it completely unnecessary, and all that the group tomorrow would find would be the bodies.
In either case, Harry and the others would be relatively safe, and his debts would be paid. He could move on to whatever the next world offered in good conscience.
He could see a faint glow ahead, and took a deep breath.
"Nox," he said, the light of his wand going out, he moved forward.
Miles away in London, in a bedroom in a large manor house, a man sat up straight in his bed.
"Goodbye?" He thought for a moment before jumping out of bed. "Damn it!"
Well? You like? You don't like? Review! Review!
Saerry Snape: Twists and turns, that's what makes the world go round! I'm glad it amuses you! Harry does seem to have more than his fair share of uncomfortable moments, doesn't he?
Merlindamage: Prequel will be a couple of weeks, I think, but don't hold me to that. It all depends on the muse, you know...
Shotgunn: Yes, dear... the prequel WAS your idea, but only because at the time I didn't even think that anyone would bother to read my efforts... much less insist on the story continuing! Anyhow – we're reaching the end – and you've been there from pretty much the beginning. Thanks – you have no idea what that has meant to me and my muse! (But Man U still bites....)
Elise: Oh, I DO love to make you all squirm, and speculate! Hmm... now what else can I throw in the mix...?
Ladyknight77: Merlindamage is one of my personal heroes. Have you read Truth? I find that some people "get" Faith without reading it, and others just have questions!
Whimsical Firefly: Yes, "cultural" can be very good. Toronto is a very interesting, happening kind of city. Lots going on, and lots of things to see and learn. There is a place on the Danforth called the Gerrard Pizza and Spaghetti House... you've got to try their pasta carbonara... Anyhow, I digress... Toronto can be an AMAZING city to live in, but when we started our family, we realized it wasn't the place to raise little ones. Let me know what the final decision is! BTW -- "trouble" appears to be my middle name, these days. Oh, well – Santa's coming, right?
Pdlegirl: I do love happy reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!
Larna Mandrea: More coming! Then the prequel. I expect you to allow me at least a week lead time on that, my dear... I'm not a machine, you know (wink).
CQ