Author's Notes: A chapter chock full of angsty drama badness. Mira shows
her ugly side, Snape shows a brief glimpse of the part of his emotional
being that's buried deepest, but only a very brief glimpse. Lots of
speculation on what led to him becoming who he is and what he is. My take
on what happened between his days as a student at Hogwarts and the end of
the GOF book.
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books or movies belongs to me.
Chapter 26: Be Careful What You Ask For.
She entered the clearing and found the professor, crouched on the ground, gripping his forearm tightly.
She fell to her knees at his side, and helped him to a sitting position, wrestling with his voluminous robes. Unbeknownst to him, she had picked his pockets in the process.
"What's wrong? What's happening?"
"I told you I can't tell you. Did you get it?"
"Yes, I've got it, but what's happening to you? What's wrong with your arm?"
"Forget about my arm, let's GO!"
She took a few steps back and stood over him.
"No, not until you tell me exactly what's going on."
"Mira, I am tired of playing games with you, we have to go!"
"Not until you tell me what's wrong with your arm, and what your role in all of this is."
"I told you already, I can't tell you! Why can't you let this go?"
"Because. Because I love you and I know I'll never see you again once we get back to England, and I don't want to lose you."
"Mira, you knew you had already lost me the day that you realized you loved me. Be reasonable, we have a mission to complete!"
"How can you be so cold about it? Or was I just a means of getting to this artifact?"
Snape pulled himself to his feet; Mira took a few steps farther back away from him.
"Mira. I'm only going to say this once. Never, ever doubt for a second that I love you. It's because I love you that I've protected you from the truth and pushed you away. It's because I can't bear to see you harmed that I am willing to send you away, even willing to remove all memory of me from your mind to get you to a safe place! Mira please! If there were any other way it would be different, but it is the way it has to be!"
"NO! It's not the way it has to be! You keep saying that to me, and you're so beaten down and defeated that you're not even able to fight for it. This is your life, your decision. Tell me what I've gotten myself involved in, and I can help you figure out a different way!"
"Mira, I hate to have to do this to you, but this has gone far enough."
Snape reached into his pocket for his wand, and realized it wasn't there. Mira pulled his wand out of her sleeve.
"Is this what you want?"
She reached into her robe and extracted both of the silver portkeys.
"How about these too?"
Snape tried to summon his wand but was unable to do so because of the burning of the dark mark.
He lunged at her to take the wand back and she sidestepped out of his way. He missed and fell to the ground.
"Mira, for the love of God, please don't do this!"
"No, you tell me everything. And then we go back to England."
He pushed himself up onto his knees and looked at her, eyes burning with rage.
"Very well then. You asked for it, and so you shall have it!"
He yanked the sleeve of his robe up past his elbow.
"Do you see this Mira?"
She looked at his arm, and saw an inky black image of a skull and snake where there had been a faint outline just a day before.
"DO YOU SEE IT?"
She nodded her head yes, eyes transfixed on the mark that seemed to glow from within with a dark fire.
"Do you know what it is?"
She shook her head no.
"It's the Dark Mark Mira. Do you know who carries the Dark Mark?"
She shook her head no.
"The Death Eaters, Mira."
Mira looked at him with a confused look on her face and then paled and her eyes grew large. "Y-Y-You?"
"Yes Mira. Remember the Death Eaters? The man with the ring. The man with the wand? You remember them don't you? You should. Especially the man with the wand."
Mira looked at him with horror and glanced down at the wand in her hand. She dropped it onto the ground and recoiled from it as if it were on fire. She looked back up at him and the memory of the night in the cathedral came rushing back to her. She forced herself to focus on the man with the wand. As the threads of recognition began to wind their way through her consciousness, she started to feel a sickening swirling rushing sensation. "You?"
"Yes, Mira. Me."
The words hit her consciousness with the same force that the curse had hit her body with that night months ago. She felt the ground swaying beneath her feet and the sound of a thousand waves crashing in around her. Everything in the clearing faded gently to black as she slowly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Snape pulled himself to his feet and staggered over to her, clutching his arm. He fell to his knees at her side, retrieved his wand and the silver portkeys, and lifted her up off the ground by the shoulders and shook her back to consciousness.
Mira came to consciousness flailing her arms and legs, trying to land a blow on him, but he held her firmly by her shoulders. "You bastard! You fucking evil bastard! How could you do this to me?"
Snape let her flail and scream at him until her initial outburst had faded. Then he turned her onto her stomach, his good hand pinning her arms tightly behind her, one knee planted firmly in the small of her back. He leaned down close to her face and hissed in her ear. "You wanted to know so badly, and you will know it all. Every last bit of it."
"Go to Hell! Just kill me and take the amulet and be done with it. I don't want to know the rest!"
"I have no intention of harming so much as a hair on your head, much less taking the amulet from you. But you will hear me out, and you will know the rest. Do you remember when I took you flying and I showed you what once was my home and told you the story of what happened to my family?"
"Yes."
"After I found out my family had all been killed, the final weeks of school went by in a daze. I completed my last term and found myself with nowhere to go. My family was dead, my home was in ruins. The ministry of magic offered me a menial job and a place to sleep at night, but I turned them down. I was convinced that it was their fault my family was dead, after all, they came looking for the wizards hiding in our home, and it was their magic that destroyed the tower. I took what little money I had saved up during my time at school and went to London, where I spent my days wandering through Diagon and Knockturn alley, and my nights drinking my misery away in the tavern.
One night in the tavern, two men approached me, and said that they knew what had happened to my family, and asked if I wanted a chance to get back at the ministry for sending a team of Aurors in to attack a home that housed women and a child. I jumped at the chance. I was taken in and at first I was set up in a laboratory, to make poisons and potions with dubious uses. After a while, when my trust was proven, I was initiated into the ranks and ordered to assist in Death Eater raids. At first they were no more than ugly pranks. I thought I was quite clever, sticking it to the ministry with fear and intimidation. But as time passed, I was sent on more and more violent missions.
I started to wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into. I saw the wizards I was dispatched with committing atrocities beyond comprehension against muggle and wizard alike. Many of them delighted in torturing their victims, got off on the power and pain. By then I was in too deep to back out. The mark was branded into my skin. With it, Voldemort could call me to his side at a moment's notice. He punished any dissenters among the ranks ruthlessly and swiftly.
I retreated into myself and did what I had to do to stay alive. And not a day has gone by that I do not despise myself for being too cowardly to accept death as a way out. I committed atrocities alongside the others, for which there is no suitable punishment. Then Voldemort fell. How that little brat managed to do it, I have no Earthly idea, but he managed to throw the curse right back into the bastard's face. Our Lord and Master defeated by a mere babe, the Death Eaters tried desperately to hold themselves together. I made the mistake of saying that enough was enough and I wanted no more of it, I was going to turn myself in to the ministry and accept my punishment. A group of them attacked me, and beat me and cursed me and even took a lash to me for even thinking of surrendering myself to the ministry. They said that it was not over, Voldemort would be back.
I broke free from them and found myself just outside of Hogsmeade. I remembered that Headmaster Dumbledore was very heavily involved with the ministry and I went to the school to turn myself in. I hoped for a swift trial and a swift punishment, the Dementor's Kiss. Living Death. But the old man took pity on me and fought for my life, and managed to get me released into his custody. He gave me a job, teaching potions at the school, and told me in no uncertain terms that one day I would have the chance to make amends for what I had done, but it would mean certain danger and possibly death. I spent the last decade merely existing, a virtual prisoner in that castle. Living with the knowledge of what I had done and that even with death, there was no way I could ever make amends for all of it.
And then the golden child of the wizarding world, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, came to Hogwarts. And with him, came the re-emergence of Voldemort and stirrings amongst his former followers. Last year, the decade of waiting came abruptly to an end. I was asked by Dumbledore to return to Voldemort, as if still a loyal Death Eater. But as a spy. For nearly a year, I have been walking the razor's edge of playing the role of counterspy. Pretending to be spying for Voldemort while all the while pledging my true allegiance to Dumbledore. Playing two Masters while being only truly loyal to one is a dangerous game.
I have grown quite weary of it Mira, and now the game is over. It was over the night in the cathedral when I was forced to place that curse on you. Understand that Mira. I was forced to do it or die. I would have taken that curse a thousand times over rather than inflict it upon you once. But it was the only way I could control the situation and try and get us both out alive. Later that night in the alleyway, the other wizard, the man with the ring, told me that he knew where my true loyalties lay, and he was going to take me down. When I helped get you out of England yesterday morning, I signed my own death warrant.
I will not get out of this alive. Do you understand? Because when we return to England, the pain of the mark will be stronger and unless I return to Voldemort it will kill me."
Mira struggled to look over her shoulder at him. He released his grip on her, and she pulled herself around to face him. "But can't you stay here? Can't you go even farther away?"
"And do what? Live in constant fear of them coming for me, and in constant pain from the burning of the mark?"
"Then do what you have to do, cut your arm off for Christ's sake, at least you'll still have your life!"
He chuckled wearily, and reached up and stroked her cheek. "It simply doesn't work that way Mira. The mark isn't confined to the visible part you see, it's part of my entire being."
"But there has to be another way!"
"No. There isn't. I've known it all along. Either I die in agony from the mark like a coward, or I return to Voldemort and face my death like a man. I have made my peace with it, I'm prepared to face my destiny on my feet, on my own terms."
Tears started to well up in Mira's eyes, and he pulled her close to his chest and stroked her hair with his good hand.
"I'm so sorry Mira. I never meant to let you get this close. I never wanted you to know any of this. I tried to protect you from it but you simply would not let it go. Now please, let's return to England now. Every minute I resist the summoning of the mark, the greater the pain gets. I want to be in control enough when we get back to be able to apparate by my own power."
She reached up and gripped him around the shoulders tightly as he removed the silver portkey Dumbledore had given her from his pocket. She looked into his eyes, and for the first time saw completely and clearly through the façade, to the deepest depths of his being. Pure regret, sadness, longing, despair. And underneath all of it, she saw love. She met his lips with a kiss and clamped her hand down onto the portkey in his hand.
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books or movies belongs to me.
Chapter 26: Be Careful What You Ask For.
She entered the clearing and found the professor, crouched on the ground, gripping his forearm tightly.
She fell to her knees at his side, and helped him to a sitting position, wrestling with his voluminous robes. Unbeknownst to him, she had picked his pockets in the process.
"What's wrong? What's happening?"
"I told you I can't tell you. Did you get it?"
"Yes, I've got it, but what's happening to you? What's wrong with your arm?"
"Forget about my arm, let's GO!"
She took a few steps back and stood over him.
"No, not until you tell me exactly what's going on."
"Mira, I am tired of playing games with you, we have to go!"
"Not until you tell me what's wrong with your arm, and what your role in all of this is."
"I told you already, I can't tell you! Why can't you let this go?"
"Because. Because I love you and I know I'll never see you again once we get back to England, and I don't want to lose you."
"Mira, you knew you had already lost me the day that you realized you loved me. Be reasonable, we have a mission to complete!"
"How can you be so cold about it? Or was I just a means of getting to this artifact?"
Snape pulled himself to his feet; Mira took a few steps farther back away from him.
"Mira. I'm only going to say this once. Never, ever doubt for a second that I love you. It's because I love you that I've protected you from the truth and pushed you away. It's because I can't bear to see you harmed that I am willing to send you away, even willing to remove all memory of me from your mind to get you to a safe place! Mira please! If there were any other way it would be different, but it is the way it has to be!"
"NO! It's not the way it has to be! You keep saying that to me, and you're so beaten down and defeated that you're not even able to fight for it. This is your life, your decision. Tell me what I've gotten myself involved in, and I can help you figure out a different way!"
"Mira, I hate to have to do this to you, but this has gone far enough."
Snape reached into his pocket for his wand, and realized it wasn't there. Mira pulled his wand out of her sleeve.
"Is this what you want?"
She reached into her robe and extracted both of the silver portkeys.
"How about these too?"
Snape tried to summon his wand but was unable to do so because of the burning of the dark mark.
He lunged at her to take the wand back and she sidestepped out of his way. He missed and fell to the ground.
"Mira, for the love of God, please don't do this!"
"No, you tell me everything. And then we go back to England."
He pushed himself up onto his knees and looked at her, eyes burning with rage.
"Very well then. You asked for it, and so you shall have it!"
He yanked the sleeve of his robe up past his elbow.
"Do you see this Mira?"
She looked at his arm, and saw an inky black image of a skull and snake where there had been a faint outline just a day before.
"DO YOU SEE IT?"
She nodded her head yes, eyes transfixed on the mark that seemed to glow from within with a dark fire.
"Do you know what it is?"
She shook her head no.
"It's the Dark Mark Mira. Do you know who carries the Dark Mark?"
She shook her head no.
"The Death Eaters, Mira."
Mira looked at him with a confused look on her face and then paled and her eyes grew large. "Y-Y-You?"
"Yes Mira. Remember the Death Eaters? The man with the ring. The man with the wand? You remember them don't you? You should. Especially the man with the wand."
Mira looked at him with horror and glanced down at the wand in her hand. She dropped it onto the ground and recoiled from it as if it were on fire. She looked back up at him and the memory of the night in the cathedral came rushing back to her. She forced herself to focus on the man with the wand. As the threads of recognition began to wind their way through her consciousness, she started to feel a sickening swirling rushing sensation. "You?"
"Yes, Mira. Me."
The words hit her consciousness with the same force that the curse had hit her body with that night months ago. She felt the ground swaying beneath her feet and the sound of a thousand waves crashing in around her. Everything in the clearing faded gently to black as she slowly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Snape pulled himself to his feet and staggered over to her, clutching his arm. He fell to his knees at her side, retrieved his wand and the silver portkeys, and lifted her up off the ground by the shoulders and shook her back to consciousness.
Mira came to consciousness flailing her arms and legs, trying to land a blow on him, but he held her firmly by her shoulders. "You bastard! You fucking evil bastard! How could you do this to me?"
Snape let her flail and scream at him until her initial outburst had faded. Then he turned her onto her stomach, his good hand pinning her arms tightly behind her, one knee planted firmly in the small of her back. He leaned down close to her face and hissed in her ear. "You wanted to know so badly, and you will know it all. Every last bit of it."
"Go to Hell! Just kill me and take the amulet and be done with it. I don't want to know the rest!"
"I have no intention of harming so much as a hair on your head, much less taking the amulet from you. But you will hear me out, and you will know the rest. Do you remember when I took you flying and I showed you what once was my home and told you the story of what happened to my family?"
"Yes."
"After I found out my family had all been killed, the final weeks of school went by in a daze. I completed my last term and found myself with nowhere to go. My family was dead, my home was in ruins. The ministry of magic offered me a menial job and a place to sleep at night, but I turned them down. I was convinced that it was their fault my family was dead, after all, they came looking for the wizards hiding in our home, and it was their magic that destroyed the tower. I took what little money I had saved up during my time at school and went to London, where I spent my days wandering through Diagon and Knockturn alley, and my nights drinking my misery away in the tavern.
One night in the tavern, two men approached me, and said that they knew what had happened to my family, and asked if I wanted a chance to get back at the ministry for sending a team of Aurors in to attack a home that housed women and a child. I jumped at the chance. I was taken in and at first I was set up in a laboratory, to make poisons and potions with dubious uses. After a while, when my trust was proven, I was initiated into the ranks and ordered to assist in Death Eater raids. At first they were no more than ugly pranks. I thought I was quite clever, sticking it to the ministry with fear and intimidation. But as time passed, I was sent on more and more violent missions.
I started to wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into. I saw the wizards I was dispatched with committing atrocities beyond comprehension against muggle and wizard alike. Many of them delighted in torturing their victims, got off on the power and pain. By then I was in too deep to back out. The mark was branded into my skin. With it, Voldemort could call me to his side at a moment's notice. He punished any dissenters among the ranks ruthlessly and swiftly.
I retreated into myself and did what I had to do to stay alive. And not a day has gone by that I do not despise myself for being too cowardly to accept death as a way out. I committed atrocities alongside the others, for which there is no suitable punishment. Then Voldemort fell. How that little brat managed to do it, I have no Earthly idea, but he managed to throw the curse right back into the bastard's face. Our Lord and Master defeated by a mere babe, the Death Eaters tried desperately to hold themselves together. I made the mistake of saying that enough was enough and I wanted no more of it, I was going to turn myself in to the ministry and accept my punishment. A group of them attacked me, and beat me and cursed me and even took a lash to me for even thinking of surrendering myself to the ministry. They said that it was not over, Voldemort would be back.
I broke free from them and found myself just outside of Hogsmeade. I remembered that Headmaster Dumbledore was very heavily involved with the ministry and I went to the school to turn myself in. I hoped for a swift trial and a swift punishment, the Dementor's Kiss. Living Death. But the old man took pity on me and fought for my life, and managed to get me released into his custody. He gave me a job, teaching potions at the school, and told me in no uncertain terms that one day I would have the chance to make amends for what I had done, but it would mean certain danger and possibly death. I spent the last decade merely existing, a virtual prisoner in that castle. Living with the knowledge of what I had done and that even with death, there was no way I could ever make amends for all of it.
And then the golden child of the wizarding world, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, came to Hogwarts. And with him, came the re-emergence of Voldemort and stirrings amongst his former followers. Last year, the decade of waiting came abruptly to an end. I was asked by Dumbledore to return to Voldemort, as if still a loyal Death Eater. But as a spy. For nearly a year, I have been walking the razor's edge of playing the role of counterspy. Pretending to be spying for Voldemort while all the while pledging my true allegiance to Dumbledore. Playing two Masters while being only truly loyal to one is a dangerous game.
I have grown quite weary of it Mira, and now the game is over. It was over the night in the cathedral when I was forced to place that curse on you. Understand that Mira. I was forced to do it or die. I would have taken that curse a thousand times over rather than inflict it upon you once. But it was the only way I could control the situation and try and get us both out alive. Later that night in the alleyway, the other wizard, the man with the ring, told me that he knew where my true loyalties lay, and he was going to take me down. When I helped get you out of England yesterday morning, I signed my own death warrant.
I will not get out of this alive. Do you understand? Because when we return to England, the pain of the mark will be stronger and unless I return to Voldemort it will kill me."
Mira struggled to look over her shoulder at him. He released his grip on her, and she pulled herself around to face him. "But can't you stay here? Can't you go even farther away?"
"And do what? Live in constant fear of them coming for me, and in constant pain from the burning of the mark?"
"Then do what you have to do, cut your arm off for Christ's sake, at least you'll still have your life!"
He chuckled wearily, and reached up and stroked her cheek. "It simply doesn't work that way Mira. The mark isn't confined to the visible part you see, it's part of my entire being."
"But there has to be another way!"
"No. There isn't. I've known it all along. Either I die in agony from the mark like a coward, or I return to Voldemort and face my death like a man. I have made my peace with it, I'm prepared to face my destiny on my feet, on my own terms."
Tears started to well up in Mira's eyes, and he pulled her close to his chest and stroked her hair with his good hand.
"I'm so sorry Mira. I never meant to let you get this close. I never wanted you to know any of this. I tried to protect you from it but you simply would not let it go. Now please, let's return to England now. Every minute I resist the summoning of the mark, the greater the pain gets. I want to be in control enough when we get back to be able to apparate by my own power."
She reached up and gripped him around the shoulders tightly as he removed the silver portkey Dumbledore had given her from his pocket. She looked into his eyes, and for the first time saw completely and clearly through the façade, to the deepest depths of his being. Pure regret, sadness, longing, despair. And underneath all of it, she saw love. She met his lips with a kiss and clamped her hand down onto the portkey in his hand.