A/N So I realize that I posted this like…some days…after I posted chapter 5, but I just started writing it and couldn't stop! (Mainly because I absolutely love this chapter) The plot really begins here… you find out most of the information that you've all been wondering since the prologue, but not so much that the rest of the story is absolutely dull. I really hope you enjoy!
Oh yeah, and have you ever wondered how many people have actually run into the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 to see if they can find platform 9 ¾ ? Just wondering about that myself…
Thanks to all who have reviewed, I am happy you're finding that reading this story is just as fun as writing it is for me!
Disclaimer: Insert standard text from previous chapters here. Oh, and I have to say that I now also own Francine…
Harry Potter and the Sacred Soul of Vietsvar
Rated: Pg-13
By: Handsofftheshinyshirtismine
Chapter 6: The Sacred Soul of Vietsvar, Part 2
Monique looked about Dumbledore's office as she followed her father inside. Dumbledore was seated serenely at his desk, and flanking him on his right side was Professor McGonagall. Monique noted that she was smiling at her gently, and looked away to where the new, and extremely trusted, DADA teacher stood by Fawkes, gently stroking his feathers.
"Sit, Monique." Snape directed her, motioned towards the plush chair in which he had sat the past Wednesday evening. She glanced about once more, and then nervously sat down.
"Good morning, Monique." Dumbledore greeted her finally, after a long moment of silence. Monique looked at him and then tipped her head.
"Sir." She responded curtly. Her eyes drifted to her father, who had remained standing beside her, searching for guidance or reassurance of any type. She found that he was gazing back at her, straight-faced and quiet. She swallowed, wishing to stop the lump which was forming in her throat.
"Monique, how did your mother die?" Dumbledore inquired suddenly, drawing her attention back to him. He shoved forward a tray of candies for her to choose from, but she declined it with a wave of her hand.
"She died giving birth to me." Monique replied simply and confidently. She knew this was true, she had heard it so many times in the past. She found the headmaster's question to be rather silly. Her father cleared his throat.
"No, Monique. Your mother was killed." Snape told her, his eyes closing slowly. Monique's, in turn, widened as she looked at him.
"Killed? When…how? By whom?" She struggled to force the words from her mouth as she stared in disbelief at Snape, who had finally taken a seat in the chair beside hers, her jaw slack.
"Catrine…your mother… was a Death Eater like myself…" He whispered. Monique noted his discomfort, watching as he repetitively intertwined and then dislodged his long fingers from one another. A searing pain shot through her chest. "And, like I, she was conducting undercover work for Dumbledore and the Order. Not long after your birth, your mother was sent to complete some highly secretive work for the Dark Lord. The Order had ensured that she would be picked for this specific mission so that they would be allowed access to this, which was a vast part of the main body of his plan…" His lids tightened over his eyes with the pain of what he was recalling, and Monique, though stunned, reached forward to clasp one of his hands in hers. "…Somehow, he discovered the operation…and…well, he took the trouble to kill Catrine with his own wand."
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"Severus, open the door!" Someone roused Snape from his uneasy slumber as they pounded on his front door. "Severus!" The tired man stumbled from where he lay flopped on the couch, and made his way to the door. The individual continued to pound.
"I'm coming!" He bellowed. From his bedroom, Monique began to cry. Snape muttered under his breath, and opened the door. "Minerva…Francine…" He stepped back as the two sisters stepped into the room, their faces drawn and hollow. Snape ran a hand through his hair, shutting the door and motioning towards the couch where he had just been laying. "Have a seat, if you like." Minerva McGonagall shook her head.
"We can't stay long, Severus. We came to bring you news." She glanced nervously at her sister, who drew in a deep breath.
"Severus, Catrine has been killed." Francine, McGonagall's younger sister, looked at the man still standing near the doorway.
Snape stared at the two women, comprehending but not wishing to understand. He had prepared himself for this development over the course of the evening, yet hearing it spoken with certainty brought a wave of cold shock over his body.
"..Are…are you sure?" He asked, backing himself against the wall for support. McGonagall nodded somberly. "..Merlin's beard…" The shocked man pulled himself from the doorframe now, and in a desperate need to occupy himself, left the room. The two sisters looked at one another, unsure of what to do. They turned to watch as Snape re-entered from his bedroom, his whimpering daughter cradled in his arms.
"I want to know how she died."
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The pain in Monique's chest grew more intense now, and her free hand clutched at the front of her robes.
"You were so young when she was killed that we did not believe you would hold any memories of Catrine. Not wanting to burden you with the reality of her passing, telling you that she died giving you life seemed most feasible at the time." Dumbledore told her quietly. Monique looked at him with sad amber eyes.
"You've lied to me my entire life?" She directed this question towards her father without tearing her gaze from the headmaster's face. Snape licked his lips uneasily.
"I did it to protect you, Monique." He replied sincerely. "To have one parent who is an ex-Death Eater is enough of a weight for a young girl to carry. I wanted you to picture Catrine as she was, sweet and vibrant, full of life and energy, not as some…monster." His head fell forward as he hid his shamed face behind his dark hair.
"I have spent my whole life believing that I have never felt my mother's touch. I have depended upon you for all of my opinions of her, how I envisioned her! Now you tell me that you have deceived me for 16 years! How am I supposed to take this, after you have been the one person I have truly trusted all of my life?" Fury replaced the pain in her chest, and tightened itself into a pulsing ball.
"Monique, please do not take this out on your father." McGonagall pleaded, adding her thoughts for the first time. "All of us in this room, Francine, Albus, and myself, we convinced your father that telling you that your mother died in labor was the best course of action. He was merely acting on the recommendations of those whom he most trusts." Her kind eyes rested on Monique's twisted, angry face. Monique remained quiet, unable to find the words to express her feelings at that moment.
"Your father loves you very much. He would never intentionally hurt you in any way."
Monique's head swiveled as Francine spoke for the first time. The DADA teacher looked young and lively in comparison to her sister, though McGonagall was only two years her senior. Francine's black hair was cut short around her sharp-featured face and seas-green eyes, which sparkled with laughter each time she spoke.
"What would you know about it?" Monique snarled.
"Despite the age difference, Francine was your mother's closest friend." Snape answered, before the woman could open her mouth to reply. "When Catrine was killed, Fran helped me to get things in order and sort out my affairs."
"I even took care of you, on occasion." Francine added good-naturedly. Monique sniffed haughtily and looked away.
"I don't recall it." She replied coolly.
"Yet Francine's influence on your life is not the issue here." Dumbledore interjected, before the entire conversation jumped off course.
"Of course not. My apologies sir." Monique inclined her head again, her sights settling on her hands, which had long since found themselves hooked in her lap. She stared at the exquisite sapphire ring curling around her slim right ring finger, the letter 'V' etched delicately into the gemstone. For the first time in weeks, Monique longed for Vietsvar and the normalcy she found there. Though she was happy at Hogwarts, it seemed as if the longer she was there, the more confused she became in regards to her life. She bit her lip and then looked up. "But what is the issue here? There is undoubtedly more you wished to tell me than simply that." Monique guessed, her characteristic spunk and tenacity returning. Dumbledore's eyes traveled to Snape, and then back to her.
"Monique, are you familiar with the prophecy of the Sacred Soul?" He inquired. Monique's mind searched through the many prophesies she had learned over the course of her 5 years at Vietsvar, and reluctantly shook her head. "Understandable. It is not a well-known prophecy." Dumbledore mused. Monique raised a slim eyebrow.
"Why?"
"The Sacred Soul prophecy is one of both doom and hope. If the wizarding world of today was aware of this prophecy, they would be given hope against Voldemort…" Monique's eyebrow strained to travel further up her forehead. "…but they would also receive word of another looming destruction…"
"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Monique asked suddenly, confused.
"Albus, please…" McGonagall hissed.
"The prophecy of the Sacred Soul is centuries old. When first told, no one knew what it meant when it referenced Death Eaters and The-Boy-Who-Lived, and so it was merely placed in the Hall of Prophecy and virtually forgotten. We now believe, however, that this long-unimportant prophecy has come to light." Monique cast a sideways glance at her father.
"And why, exactly, are you telling me this?" She questioned.
"We believe you to be the Sacred Soul referred to in the prophecy." Dumbledore told her, though she had directed this question to Snape. Monique let out a short, high pitched laugh, and sat back in her chair.
"Yeah…" she remarked sarcastically, "Monique Snape, the Sacred Soul." She laughed again, and flashed her Vietsvar ring about. "Let's make this prettier, shall we? Say The Sacred Soul of Vietsvar."
"Monique, this is not a joke!" Snape snapped, causing her to abruptly stop laughing and sit up. "We have reason to believe, based upon the wording of the prophecy and your ability to handle magic, that it does indeed refer to you." His words his Monique. Hearing them from her father gave them an increased viability, and she fumbled for something to say.
"W-what does it mean, the Sacred Soul?" She stammered uncertainly. "And how can you be sure it's me?"
"The Sacred Soul refers to the woman who will give birth to the destroyer of our world." Dumbledore said somberly.
Monique felt her stomach tighten.
"W-well, that's absurd." She managed, standing up uneasily and pulling at her pant legs. Snape looked at her.
"The prophecy says that the Sacred Soul 'shall come forth from two who appear to be of darkness and yet still retain a will for a good fight.' Death Eaters, converted." He informed her. "As far as any of us are aware, you are the only offspring of two converted Death Eaters, Monique." He looked lovingly at his only child, noting her uncertainty at the information she had just been given.
"But you can't be absolutely sure," she mumbled, now making her way over to the windows and looking outside. "You can't tell me with absolute certainty that that is in fact me mentioned in the prophecy."
"After watching you for more than 10 years, we have no doubts that you are, indeed, the Sacred Soul." McGonagall informed her. Francine nodded.
"Your ability in my class, not mentioning those you have in the others, is astounding." She commented. Monique continued to gaze at the grounds in silence.
"Because the prophecy is so long lost, we know very little about it." Dumbledore announced, "We know no specifics."
"So all I do is have a baby and watch as it destroys the world?" Monique sniffed, turning from the slightly opaque glass.
"There is more, far more, to it than that." Her father remarked casually. "Unfortunately we are yet unsure of anything else with exact certainty, even after years of research." He rose now, and went to Monique's side. "We didn't want to tell you any of this until we knew more, but following the events at the beginning of the week, Dumbledore insisted you had to know." He placed a hand on Monique's arm gingerly.
"So what do you expect me to do now?" she asked of them quietly, an edge in her voice. "I don't understand what you expect me to get from so little."
"All we ask is that you be careful, Monique. And do tell us if anything strange develops." Dumbledore requested.
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Monique left Dumbledore's office, glancing angrily over her shoulder as the door closed with a heavy and satisfying thud.
"That was fun." She remarked to herself, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her mind was racing, and she realized that she was unable to settle on an emotion. She wanted to be angry with them all for lying to her for so long, and she wanted to mourn her mother's seemingly new death. She was confused, disheartened, yet slight amused, by the prophecy of the Sacred Soul, and she thought of this the rest of her trip to the Gryffindor common room.
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An hour and a half later, Monique still sat in a chair in front of the roaring common room fire, where she had curled up upon arriving in the room earlier. Flop and Crookshanks were relaxing on the chair's plush back, lying on one another and purring loudly. She looked up for the first time upon hearing the swing of the Fat Lady's portrait, and the sound of someone scrambling inside.
"Monique!" Harry hissed to her happily, hurrying across the room to her chair. She looked at him and gave him a half-hearted smile.
"Hi there, Harry." She whispered breathily, taking great pains to appear happy. Harry, however, saw through her façade with ease. He frowned, and came around the front of the chair.
"Monique, what's wrong?" He asked, concern flooding his voice. She shook her head, and pursed her lips.
"It's nothing." She dismissed his question with a shrug, but he pressed her harder.
"Something is wrong with you, I can tell. C'mon, you can tell me anything." Monique's gaze fell on his green eyes, which were deep and showed every ounce of his emotion. A sudden surge of trust and affection overcame her.
"Oh, Harry," she moaned, falling forward into his arms and burying her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, without a tear.
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A/N Well there you have it. You're lucky it was typed successfully, my PC decided it wanted to freeze every two and a half seconds, I was saving after every single sentence to be sure I got it all in! Hope you enjoyed it!
Watch for chapter 7 Picking up Pieces before Valentines Day!!
