What Once Was Lost-Interlude, Part Two
By Miss Jo
Usual disclaimers apply. I intended to have the interlude be only one part, but it got really long. So, I broke it up. Hope you enjoy it. I promise , the next chapter will have the two Snapes meet again at last.
The morning of October 31st was beautiful. The sun was shining down on Hogwarts, streaming in the windows of the Great Hall. However, the mood at the Head Table was decidedly somber. As Professor Dumbledore looked around the hall, he saw many children missing. Slytherin had a large number gone, but the other houses all had at least four or five who were conspicuously absent. The headmaster sighed, and threw his napkin down rather more forcefully than he had intended. Children, fattened on lies of power and glory were about to be slaughtered at the altar of hate and deception. Today would be the day. Either Hogwarts would see the horizon of a new freedom, or they would be bowing to a master with blood on his hands and pain in his eyes.
As he once again surveyed the tables, he saw Hermione Granger sitting upright, pale but determined. Susan Bones hadn't touched her breakfast, looking at an unseen spot somewhere on the table. And sitting away from everyone was Neville Longbottom. He was eating quietly, ignoring the low level rumble of conversation. Dumbledore wondered what Neville's role was going to be in the upcoming battle. Personally, Dumbledore would not have chosen Neville to be on the front lines. He was brave and loyal, but he had become more unpredictable after his parents had died. Clearly, Ivy Gorgon and Ariana Snape believed in him, though.
Of the four Chosen as sentries, all were present in the Great Hall. Professor Snape had not gone to Voldemort's side the night before. He had been to lead a group into Hogwarts, to take the school hostage. His absence would force a great deal of last minute restructuring in Voldemort's battle plans, which Snape hoped would give the Order of the Phoenix an edge. Sitting by his side was Madam Pince, an odd choice on first glance for a Chosen. However, she came from a family of master duelers and healers. Despite her hours in a musty library, she was still a force to be reckoned with. The power of the teachers would balance the students less predictable powers, lending balance to the shield.
Fawkes flew in through the window, and landed at Dumbledore's side. Harry Potter looked up and met Dumbledore's eyes. It was a signal. The war had begun.
When Dumbledore had the school secured and the ghosts guarding the students, he went out a secret passageway to the area just beyond Hogwarts cemetery. Under the streaming sunlight, he could see Harry Potter fighting, despite explicitly being told not to. They could not risk Harry dying before he met up with Voldemort.
Several of the sixth and seventh year students were fighting valiantly. "Foolish children", he thought, although he admitted he had been just as foolhardy when the war with Grindlewald had been raging and he had been a student. He looked around the battlefield when he saw the fighting stop, and his mouth dropped open.
Lily and James Potter had just ridden onto the battlefield.
Harry had just hexed a Death Eater he had never seen before, when he heard the murmurs. He turned around to an unbelievable sight.
His mother was astride a broom, her auburn hair whipping in the wind. She was smiling, and waved at Harry. His father was smiling as well, his glasses glinting in the morning sun. They landed their brooms, and walked over to where Harry was standing.
Harry drank in the sight of the parents he had never seen. He looked at his father's untidy black hair, his grin an exact reflection of his Harry's own. He could see his mother looked tired, the corners of her eyes were crinkling with exhaustion. Harry's mind raced. They must have been in hiding all this time. They could finally be together and be a proper family at last. His mind was whirling with ideas and long forgotten dreams. He took a step toward his mother and froze. He knew in one horrible, devastating moment that it was all a lie.
The Lily Potter standing in front of him had brown eyes.
How often had he heard about the likenesses between himself and his parents. Always, without fail, he would hear about how he had Lily's eyes. The green eyes that looked up with amusement in the photos he had were unforgettable. Harry felt that horrible rage swell up in him. How dare they pretend to be them!
"Voldemort." He said in a grim tone of greeting, and lifted his sword. The voice was one that had haunted his nightmares for seven years. That high pitched cackling voice that was so incongruent in the body of his mother.
"Hello Harry".
While this interchange was taking place, the Chosen were moving into position around the field. All four were dressed in brown linen robes with hoods and hemp belts. They wore no shoes on their feet, and all were terrified out of their wits. As they stood at their corners, however, their courage returned. At the north and south ends Hermione and Madam Pince respectively, stood next to a cloaked figure with their hoods covering their faces.; one in white, one in black. Their robes were belted with cord, either in gold or silver. Both cloaked figures were chanting quietly, barely discernible in the chaos of the battlefield. And most importantly, both had wicked looking daggers hanging from their belts. Dumbledore gave the signal, and the Chosen began to chant:
Lord and Lady
Creator of all,
Hear our plea
Let us be the shield
Between the worthy
And the wicked
Let us protect your children
As you protect us
Hear us, save us
Give us strength
Blessed be.
The two robed figures stepped inside the circle made by the Chosen. Suddenly, the three Gorgon sisters flew into the circle on broomsticks, grabbing wnyone not in a Death Eater robe and flinging them outside the circle. Harry had just struck Voldemort with the blessed sword of Godric Gryffindor, and though the sword passed through his neck and out the other side, Voldemort's head stayed attached, the product of a dark protection spell. As Voldemort lifted his wand to cast the killing curse, Harry was grabbed by Ivy Gorgon and thrown outside the circle.
"Now, she shrieked. The Gorgons were terrifying to behold; their snaked hair hissing and snapping, their fangs and eyes flashing wildly as they corralled the Death Eaters into the circle. The Chosen continued:
Let us be the shield of light
Let us protect your children
Give us strength to do
What must be done
Hear us, Lord and Lady
The four lifted their arms as one, and a shield of light connected them around the circle. Voldemort stepped back, uncertainly. The Gorgons dismounted their brooms and took up positions in front of the two cloaked figures, who remained chanting in low voices. The Chosen were now silent, arms raised. The energy it was taking to maintain the shield was enormous, sweat trickled down the Chosen's necks and their legs ached. Still, they kept the shield intact.
"What's going on?" Harry whispered to Arthur Weasley and Dumbledore as they looked through the shield. "Who are those two in cloaks?" Mr. Weasley shrugged, his eyes showing no comprehension. All were watching the events in the circle. A look of understanding crossed Dumbledore's wizened face. "Dear Merlin!", he said in wonder.
Kingsley Shacklebolt had moved next to Harry. "Albus , what is going on? Should we try to break through the shield?" The headmaster shook his head.
"Gorgons are mythical creatures, tied to the elements. They possess a very powerful magic. Voldemort uses a similar magic to create and maintain the Dark Mark. It took him years to discover and use. The Dark Mark gives Voldemort energy and power through his followers. Unless I am very much mistaken, the two in the middle are going to unleash ancient magics to restore the natural balance. The ancients will literally pull the life force out of everyone who carries the Dark Mark and use it to restore nature's delicate balance. The two in the middle will sacrifice themselves to the elements, becoming a vessel. Their magic will power and maintain the exchange. " He closed his eyes, as if in prayer. Kingsley was not satisfied.
"What about Professor Snape?"
Dumbledore was grim. "The ancients will pull out the Dark Mark. Severus will be protected."
"By whom, sir? We are all outside the shield"
"We are in a cemetery, Mr. Shacklebolt. It is the cemetery where all four founders are buried. The chosen are each from a different house. The legend used to say that Gorgons could kill with a look. That is not quite true. They do, however, have a very natural connection with the afterlife. Ivy Gorgon is quite literally going to raise the dead."
Back inside the circle, the vessels had stepped forward. Clutching their daggers, the two spoke in unison:
Elements of old
Guardians of the old magics
Come to us now
We are here to restore the imbalance
With blood we raise you from your slumber
To right a terrible wrong
Let our bodies be your vessels
Let our magic be your strength
Fuel your wrath with our breath
Ivy was walking around the circle, screaming in a language no one had heard before. The earth around the founders graves grew cold. Terrified soldiers jumped back in horror.
From his position in the shield, Severus Snape was fighting a panic he had never felt before. The heat from the shield was searing. As he looked at the tall, thin cloaked figure to his left, however his blood ran cold. He knew with a terrible certainty who that person was, and from the chant he knew what they were about to do. Ariana! He tried to scream, but it died in his throat. The polyjuice potions were wearing off, and Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort were no longer looking like the Potters. Lucius raised his wand to curse the cloaked figure in front of him, but as he raised his wand it burst into flame. A woman's voice came from beneath the cloak. "Lucius, can you feel the earth move? She begs for retribution."
Outside the circle, the wind had picked up and thunder could be heard. The sun had hidden behind the clouds. The figure in white pulled his hood back. Mr. MacNair laughed.
"Mr. Longbottom, we meet at last. You know, your parents begged for their lives? Even with their last breaths, they begged like dogs. They feared death more than anything."
Neville's voice was steady and strong. "I don't."
With the dagger, he slit his wrist, a little more deeply than he intended. From the north corner, Ariana Snape had cut her wrist at the same time. The vessels could feel their blood running in streams, warm against their skin. With one look at each other the vessels plunged their bloody daggers into the earth.
The magic responded. The earth moved and the magic came up from beneath it. It came in on the howling wind and rain. Fires sprouted up from burning wands, as it greedily drank the magic. Death Eaters screamed as they felt Voldemort draining their life force as their marks burned. His body's efforts at self preservation was killing the Death Eaters. The younger death Eaters died almost instantly. The older ones tried to fight it, convulsing and attempting to hex something, anything to make it stop. Many died holding onto their children's limp bodies.
From the shield, the Chosen were getting weaker. Their knees trembled, and they felt as though they were on fire. As the earth rumbled beneath them, Severus lost his footing as he nearly collapsed. His mark was screaming with pain, and he felt as though the breath was being pulled from his very lungs. Then he looked up. Standing beside him, holding him up was a ghost. Ghosts normally can't hold things, he thought wildly as he looked at the old bearded man. Who was he? Standing next to Susan Bones was a plump kind looking ghost. An elegant dark haired woman in an evening gown was supporting Madam Pince. And in the north corner, a proud man with light hair held Hermione's hands up as tears streamed down her face. He was dressed in red and gold, a lion emblazoned on his sleeve. Severus understood.
Rowena Ravenclaw. Godric Gryffindor. Helga Hufflepuff. Salazar Slytherin.
The founders were propping up their champions as their legends propped up the stone foundations. They had come to save Hogwarts from extinction, to stand against the terror being wrought on its land.
Within minutes, Voldemort stood alone in the center of the circle. All of his Death Eaters were dead, staring sightlessly at nothing. Their mouths were open in silent screams.
Voldemort laughed, and wiped something off his neck. As he looked down, he froze.
It was blood.
The magic had stripped away all his layers of protection, his scaly skin and reptilian eyes. He stood before the world much as he had looked when he was a student running through Hogwarts halls, his head boy badge pinned to his breast. Now, he was dying. Really, truly dying. There was nothing that could be done to stop it. He looked around at the vessels.
Neville was pale and bleeding. The ancient magic had escaped through various places in his body. His left leg was mangled, and there were deep cuts all over. His once white robe was crimson, and his head lolled to the side. His hair was grey now, a thick cap on his eighteen year old head. He was being held about twelve inches off the ground by an unseen force. In the opposite corner, Ariana was in a similar condition, her black robes dripping with blood as tears flowed down her ashen face.
Voldemort was stunned. He cursed, and screamed, and stamped his foot like a toddler having a tantrum. All the while blood was leaking from his neck wound.
"How can you do this to me?" He screamed as his knees buckled. Neville's head snapped up, and a voice very unlike his own came from his throat.
"Never attempt to discover the source of our power." His bleeding arm swept around the circle, motioning to the dead Death Eaters. "But yours is right here".
Voldemort collapsed, taking one last, rattling breath. He was finally dead.
The Chosen and the vessels collapsed on the ground, not moving. The wind had stopped, and the sun had come out again. The Hogwarts ghosts had gone, and members of the Order of the Phoenix rushed to gather the unconscious. The shield had collapsed when Voldemort had breathed his last. The Gorgons swept past the Order, gathering Neville and Ariana in their arms as they flew away.
Albus Dumbledore approached the Chosen, and smiled sadly as he looked at Severus. The ancient magic had stripped one section near his crown of color, leaving what looked like a streak of grey paint in his black locks. The other Chosen had the same streak, a mark of valor, he thought sadly.
It was over. The wizarding world could sleep well tonight, knowing that Voldemort was no more. While the Aurors were immobilizing and moving the Chosen from the battlefield, Dumbledore approached the fallen Death Eaters. So many young lives lost today, because of one misguided decision. Many were brought into this way of life by their parents, too blinded by empty promises to see the truth. Professor McGonagall stood silently by his side for a long time, arm in arm while they mourned.
An hour later, a house elf appeared. "Begging your pardon, sir. Dobby wishes to ask if all these people are staying for lunch, sir. I don't know if we have enough room at table, sir."
Dumbledore looked at his timepiece. The time was 1:30 pm. The entire battle had been won in just five hours. It seemed impossible to believe. Putting the wizarding world back together, however, would take considerably longer.
The injured were kept under close observation at St. Mungo's, but the Chosen were kept at the infirmary at Hogwarts away from prying eyes. A Daily Prophet reporter had tried to get in to take photos, but he was blocked by Hagrid and Fang.
It had taken nearly a week for Susan and Hermione to regain consciousness. Madam Pince took a little longer, and at the end of a month only Professor Snape was still unconscious. Susan and Hermione took turns staying with him, sitting at his bedside reading to him or just holding vigil.
Exactly six weeks after the final battle, Professor Snape regained consciousness.. He opened his eyes to the sound of Hermione reading Shakespeare aloud from an armchair pulled up by the bed.
"I have never really liked Shakespeare", he said quietly. Hermione leapt from her chair and started shrieking. Soon the room was full of celebration, everyone talking and laughing at once. All except the man of honor, who had a blinding headache from all the racket.
Neville and Ariana both survived, but Neville had to relearn to walk, and Ariana remained very weak for several months. They worked together frequently at Gorgon's, but neither discussed the final battle. Things would never be the same for either of them. Now, though, they could move on. With Voldemort gone, it was the dawn of a new day.