The Other Side Of The Dark: Chapter 20
Dumbledore's eyes became distant, and Moody could see him assembling his memories, arranging a narrative. Moody pursed his lips impatiently. After all this time he found himself unwilling to allow his old friend the chance to fob him off with an edited version of events; not after discovering how much he had kept from him. Then, just as he was about to prompt, Dumbledore began to speak.
'After finishing my studies at Hogwarts, I went travelling. During my final year, my interests in Defence Against The Dark Arts had led me to an obscure book in the depths of the library's Restricted Section. Among other things, it revealed to me a fascinating type of magic of which I wished to learn more. So I wrote a hopeful letter to its author – and to my delight, received an invitation to study.
'The wizard in question was the head of a large and very old family who had, after centuries of study and research, become adept in many of the Dark Arts. However,' Dumbledore held up a long-fingered hand for forestall Moody's immediate interruption, 'they were not Dark Wizards. Far from it. The wizarding world owes them more than you can imagine, Alastor. For hundreds of years, this family had striven with all manner of Dark Magic, developing defences of all kinds. And I could not have hoped for more from my visit, for they were generosity itself. I was allowed the freedom of their extensive libraries; I was allowed to translate some of their books; and the head of the family, Anzori, assisted me in the compilation of new ones. Anzori taught me everything I wished to know about Occlumency and its associated disciplines. It was he who gave me my Pensieve.
'They were a private, almost secretive family, who filtered their discoveries to the outside world quietly and carefully. However, they were, as I discovered, very generous with their knowledge to someone they had cause to trust. Indeed,' and Dumbledore's eyes grew suddenly sad, 'I wonder if their trust was the cause of their downfall.'
There was another pause; this time Moody could not wait. 'What happened?'
Dumbledore drew a breath, his eyes troubled.
'They were murdered. It happened almost seventy years after I last saw them, but I knew nothing of it until much later.'
'How? Who did it?'
'I am not entirely sure. I know there were some muggles involved, for most of the family had been killed with muggle weapons; but there had to have been a powerful wizard to get them close enough, to get inside their castle. However, they failed in their true objective, for Anzori survived.
'I do not know how or why; when I saw him next, he told me little more than I have told you now. He had returned one day to find his family dead; and he had stayed only long enough to bury them and secure the castle against anyone else who might come there. Then he left, and came to England where he assumed an English name, and after some years, remarried. I saw him when he came to Hogwarts, to ask me if I would accept his son as a student.'
There was a quiet pause which Moody ended with a question. 'So that spell Snape cast when he was at school… that was something his father taught him?
Dumbledore gave a wry smile. 'Yes. It was only part of something potentially quite lethal; and that was when I discovered how extremely gifted Severus is.'
'When Tonks turned up, Remus was telling me an interesting story about a necromancer who supposedly managed to bring vampires and Dementors into the world,' Moody growled. 'Apparently James thought he recognised Snape's spell as one of his. What's your perspective on that?'
Dumbledore shook his head. 'Interesting. If so, then James' assumption was both very near and completely wide of the mark. The spell was indeed created by an evil man; but as with many things, evil lies, not within an object, but in its use. Severus had no intention of taking it to its original conclusion, although he knew how; he merely wanted to impress. The poor child had no idea the magnitude of what he had done, or of its potential consequences. Anzori did his best to teach him how to use his gifts, but there was so little time left for them to share; he died when Severus was only eighteen. I believe Severus has never understood the true extent of his own strength. This is why the charm is exhausting him and Harry so quickly – in his desperation he gave it far too much power.'
Moody's eyes narrowed. 'His blood burns werewolves, Albus. Remus has an idea that he isn't human, but I'm fairly certain that he is; apart from the blood, he's as normal as you or I.'
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his eyes distant again. 'Anzori hoped so much of Severus. He set out to sire a new son to replace the ones who had been taken from him, and he… ' Dumbledore's voice trailed off, an odd look in the bright blue eyes. Moody frowned, an idea which he found rather repellent forming in his mind.
'What are you saying? A replacement son? My God, Albus, these are human beings we're talking about – a man can't "replace" dead sons!' Moody broke off, disgusted; then, 'You mean he actually set out to create a person whose blood could kill a werewolf?'
'Or a vampire. Or any of a number of other Dark creatures, I should imagine,' Dumbledore replied quietly. 'Did he intend to? I do not doubt it. Could he do it? I do not know. Was he right to try? That I would not presume to judge; because I know why he would have done it.'
Tonks brushed a hand across her eyes, forcing her emotions back. Dobby watched her carefully, then gently pushing Harry's head back onto the pillows, padded down the bed towards her.
'Miss cares a lot about Severus Snape, doesn't she, miss?' he enquired softly.
Tonks nodded, swallowing. 'I don't want him to die,' she whispered. 'He's been a good friend to me.'
Dobby gazed up at her with anxious, innocent eyes. 'Dobby will fetch Severus Snape's Pensieve, miss. Dobby will be as fast as he can, miss, but he has a long way to go. But Severus Snape will not die easily, miss. He is very strong, and he has not yet finished his spell.'
A tiny hand which felt like velvet stroked her cheek. Big green eyes stared earnestly up at her – then there was a loud crack which made her jump. Dobby was gone.
'Alastor… do you ever wonder why it is that creatures such as Dementors can be driven aside by any spell that we might use?'
There was a short silence while Moody's brain wrapped itself around the realisation that this was not a rhetorical question. 'No,' he said at last.
Dumbledore gave a humourless chuckle. 'No, Alastor. You have always so practical, so single-minded. So much certainty. That is what has always made you such a very powerful wizard and a singularly effective Auror. But consider the question for a moment, Alastor. Dementors can suck out the soul of any living creature. They hunger constantly, rapaciously, for human emotion, the human life force. And yet only the most gifted wizards can perform the Patronus charm that keeps them at bay. Muggles have not even that defence. How is it that we are not under constant threat? There are, apparently, six billion human souls on the planet. Plenty of prey. How do they resist?'
Moody's attention had suddenly focused. Vague ideas and theories, strands of memory, all gradually coming together while Dumbledore spoke, now coalesced into a single idea which sank into his mind like a thin shard of ice. Nausea stirred in the pit of his stomach. 'No…' he whispered.
Dumbledore gazed into space, a slight smile ghosting his lips. 'So Remus thought he knew, did he? I must ask him how he came to his conclusions.'
'He found a book left lying about in the library and decided to keep it because it told him things about lycanthropy. He didn't get much further than the part about a failed resurrection spell…'
Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes,' he whispered. 'But that book would have only told him half the tale.
'Centuries ago, a sorcerer of great power lost his beloved wife. Insane with grief, he attempted a spell to bring her back to life; but as you know, there is no spell capable of achieving such a miracle; but this has never stopped anyone from trying.
'There are many creatures in the spirit world which covet mortal life, and they constantly wait for someone to attempt such a spell, and thus open for them a channel into a body of flesh.
'Power attracts power. Such was magnitude of this man's ability and desperation that the open channel was seized upon by, not some minor creature, but a monstrous demon of obscene power and malevolence.'
Dumbledore stopped for a moment, his breath ragged, his eyes full of an emotion Moody could not identify.
'The creature devoured the sorcerer, and proceeded to consume the life-force of everything in its path-'
'Crop failures…' Moody muttered, remembering Remus' story.
Dumbledore nodded absently. 'The demon was eventually driven back, by means of a complex charm involving the willing sacrifice of blood…'
'A willing sacrifice?' Moody growled sceptically.
Dumbledore gave a hard, thin smile, his eyes bright. 'A choice between dying and knowing those you love will be safe, and of watching them die, knowing you will follow them. What would you choose, Alastor? I remember a brave young woman who made precisely such a choice sixteen years ago. The strength and success of her spell reflects the willingness with which she sacrificed her own life.'
Moody bit his lip, his eyes savage and angry.
'Old magic, of the most powerful and profound kind. But this spell did not involve the expense of someone's life; it was a sacrifice of blood, a covenant. Every seven years, life blood willingly offered; and in return, the demon withdrew from the mortal world, and his influences and diverse corruptions – Dementors, vampires and every other foul thing spawned by that failed necromancy – were held in abeyance.'
'Held in abeyance…?' Moody echoed.
Dumbledore nodded. 'Every seven years, blood is due. That first man, not a wizard, but a muggle warrior, I understand; condemned to remain where the demon was finally conquered, to shed his blood. Married the shaman's daughter and raised a son to carry his blood and sacrifice in his place when he was dead. And so on, down the generations: the family grew, and studied, and fought; and every seven years the eldest male made sacrifice… until someone tried to annihilate the line, fifty years ago.'
The two old wizards held each others' gaze in icy silence.
'So you see,' Dumbledore finished in a quiet voice, 'Severus did not run because he was guilty of any crime. He believed he would die if the Ministry caught him; he knew it likely that the Death Eaters would discover that he had been betraying them if he was arrested. And he knew that if he died, childless, then-'
'- there would be no more blood sacrifices…'
'The covenant would be broken, and the demon would return.'
Thank you everyone for your reviews and feedback! Back to my usual fulsome comments in the next chapter, but I'd just like to say love and best wishes to everyone reading, especially those reviewing - and quickly: sorry, I don't know why it's all in boldface, it's only happened since ff.net changed their preview facility to include "quick edit" (I'm hoping I've sussed it this time round though); and Gina, I've hunted Mugglenet and can find no reference to JKR categorically saying Snape's a Slyth. I'd be interested in a direct link if you've got one...
Dumbledore's eyes became distant, and Moody could see him assembling his memories, arranging a narrative. Moody pursed his lips impatiently. After all this time he found himself unwilling to allow his old friend the chance to fob him off with an edited version of events; not after discovering how much he had kept from him. Then, just as he was about to prompt, Dumbledore began to speak.
'After finishing my studies at Hogwarts, I went travelling. During my final year, my interests in Defence Against The Dark Arts had led me to an obscure book in the depths of the library's Restricted Section. Among other things, it revealed to me a fascinating type of magic of which I wished to learn more. So I wrote a hopeful letter to its author – and to my delight, received an invitation to study.
'The wizard in question was the head of a large and very old family who had, after centuries of study and research, become adept in many of the Dark Arts. However,' Dumbledore held up a long-fingered hand for forestall Moody's immediate interruption, 'they were not Dark Wizards. Far from it. The wizarding world owes them more than you can imagine, Alastor. For hundreds of years, this family had striven with all manner of Dark Magic, developing defences of all kinds. And I could not have hoped for more from my visit, for they were generosity itself. I was allowed the freedom of their extensive libraries; I was allowed to translate some of their books; and the head of the family, Anzori, assisted me in the compilation of new ones. Anzori taught me everything I wished to know about Occlumency and its associated disciplines. It was he who gave me my Pensieve.
'They were a private, almost secretive family, who filtered their discoveries to the outside world quietly and carefully. However, they were, as I discovered, very generous with their knowledge to someone they had cause to trust. Indeed,' and Dumbledore's eyes grew suddenly sad, 'I wonder if their trust was the cause of their downfall.'
There was another pause; this time Moody could not wait. 'What happened?'
Dumbledore drew a breath, his eyes troubled.
'They were murdered. It happened almost seventy years after I last saw them, but I knew nothing of it until much later.'
'How? Who did it?'
'I am not entirely sure. I know there were some muggles involved, for most of the family had been killed with muggle weapons; but there had to have been a powerful wizard to get them close enough, to get inside their castle. However, they failed in their true objective, for Anzori survived.
'I do not know how or why; when I saw him next, he told me little more than I have told you now. He had returned one day to find his family dead; and he had stayed only long enough to bury them and secure the castle against anyone else who might come there. Then he left, and came to England where he assumed an English name, and after some years, remarried. I saw him when he came to Hogwarts, to ask me if I would accept his son as a student.'
There was a quiet pause which Moody ended with a question. 'So that spell Snape cast when he was at school… that was something his father taught him?
Dumbledore gave a wry smile. 'Yes. It was only part of something potentially quite lethal; and that was when I discovered how extremely gifted Severus is.'
'When Tonks turned up, Remus was telling me an interesting story about a necromancer who supposedly managed to bring vampires and Dementors into the world,' Moody growled. 'Apparently James thought he recognised Snape's spell as one of his. What's your perspective on that?'
Dumbledore shook his head. 'Interesting. If so, then James' assumption was both very near and completely wide of the mark. The spell was indeed created by an evil man; but as with many things, evil lies, not within an object, but in its use. Severus had no intention of taking it to its original conclusion, although he knew how; he merely wanted to impress. The poor child had no idea the magnitude of what he had done, or of its potential consequences. Anzori did his best to teach him how to use his gifts, but there was so little time left for them to share; he died when Severus was only eighteen. I believe Severus has never understood the true extent of his own strength. This is why the charm is exhausting him and Harry so quickly – in his desperation he gave it far too much power.'
Moody's eyes narrowed. 'His blood burns werewolves, Albus. Remus has an idea that he isn't human, but I'm fairly certain that he is; apart from the blood, he's as normal as you or I.'
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his eyes distant again. 'Anzori hoped so much of Severus. He set out to sire a new son to replace the ones who had been taken from him, and he… ' Dumbledore's voice trailed off, an odd look in the bright blue eyes. Moody frowned, an idea which he found rather repellent forming in his mind.
'What are you saying? A replacement son? My God, Albus, these are human beings we're talking about – a man can't "replace" dead sons!' Moody broke off, disgusted; then, 'You mean he actually set out to create a person whose blood could kill a werewolf?'
'Or a vampire. Or any of a number of other Dark creatures, I should imagine,' Dumbledore replied quietly. 'Did he intend to? I do not doubt it. Could he do it? I do not know. Was he right to try? That I would not presume to judge; because I know why he would have done it.'
Tonks brushed a hand across her eyes, forcing her emotions back. Dobby watched her carefully, then gently pushing Harry's head back onto the pillows, padded down the bed towards her.
'Miss cares a lot about Severus Snape, doesn't she, miss?' he enquired softly.
Tonks nodded, swallowing. 'I don't want him to die,' she whispered. 'He's been a good friend to me.'
Dobby gazed up at her with anxious, innocent eyes. 'Dobby will fetch Severus Snape's Pensieve, miss. Dobby will be as fast as he can, miss, but he has a long way to go. But Severus Snape will not die easily, miss. He is very strong, and he has not yet finished his spell.'
A tiny hand which felt like velvet stroked her cheek. Big green eyes stared earnestly up at her – then there was a loud crack which made her jump. Dobby was gone.
'Alastor… do you ever wonder why it is that creatures such as Dementors can be driven aside by any spell that we might use?'
There was a short silence while Moody's brain wrapped itself around the realisation that this was not a rhetorical question. 'No,' he said at last.
Dumbledore gave a humourless chuckle. 'No, Alastor. You have always so practical, so single-minded. So much certainty. That is what has always made you such a very powerful wizard and a singularly effective Auror. But consider the question for a moment, Alastor. Dementors can suck out the soul of any living creature. They hunger constantly, rapaciously, for human emotion, the human life force. And yet only the most gifted wizards can perform the Patronus charm that keeps them at bay. Muggles have not even that defence. How is it that we are not under constant threat? There are, apparently, six billion human souls on the planet. Plenty of prey. How do they resist?'
Moody's attention had suddenly focused. Vague ideas and theories, strands of memory, all gradually coming together while Dumbledore spoke, now coalesced into a single idea which sank into his mind like a thin shard of ice. Nausea stirred in the pit of his stomach. 'No…' he whispered.
Dumbledore gazed into space, a slight smile ghosting his lips. 'So Remus thought he knew, did he? I must ask him how he came to his conclusions.'
'He found a book left lying about in the library and decided to keep it because it told him things about lycanthropy. He didn't get much further than the part about a failed resurrection spell…'
Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes,' he whispered. 'But that book would have only told him half the tale.
'Centuries ago, a sorcerer of great power lost his beloved wife. Insane with grief, he attempted a spell to bring her back to life; but as you know, there is no spell capable of achieving such a miracle; but this has never stopped anyone from trying.
'There are many creatures in the spirit world which covet mortal life, and they constantly wait for someone to attempt such a spell, and thus open for them a channel into a body of flesh.
'Power attracts power. Such was magnitude of this man's ability and desperation that the open channel was seized upon by, not some minor creature, but a monstrous demon of obscene power and malevolence.'
Dumbledore stopped for a moment, his breath ragged, his eyes full of an emotion Moody could not identify.
'The creature devoured the sorcerer, and proceeded to consume the life-force of everything in its path-'
'Crop failures…' Moody muttered, remembering Remus' story.
Dumbledore nodded absently. 'The demon was eventually driven back, by means of a complex charm involving the willing sacrifice of blood…'
'A willing sacrifice?' Moody growled sceptically.
Dumbledore gave a hard, thin smile, his eyes bright. 'A choice between dying and knowing those you love will be safe, and of watching them die, knowing you will follow them. What would you choose, Alastor? I remember a brave young woman who made precisely such a choice sixteen years ago. The strength and success of her spell reflects the willingness with which she sacrificed her own life.'
Moody bit his lip, his eyes savage and angry.
'Old magic, of the most powerful and profound kind. But this spell did not involve the expense of someone's life; it was a sacrifice of blood, a covenant. Every seven years, life blood willingly offered; and in return, the demon withdrew from the mortal world, and his influences and diverse corruptions – Dementors, vampires and every other foul thing spawned by that failed necromancy – were held in abeyance.'
'Held in abeyance…?' Moody echoed.
Dumbledore nodded. 'Every seven years, blood is due. That first man, not a wizard, but a muggle warrior, I understand; condemned to remain where the demon was finally conquered, to shed his blood. Married the shaman's daughter and raised a son to carry his blood and sacrifice in his place when he was dead. And so on, down the generations: the family grew, and studied, and fought; and every seven years the eldest male made sacrifice… until someone tried to annihilate the line, fifty years ago.'
The two old wizards held each others' gaze in icy silence.
'So you see,' Dumbledore finished in a quiet voice, 'Severus did not run because he was guilty of any crime. He believed he would die if the Ministry caught him; he knew it likely that the Death Eaters would discover that he had been betraying them if he was arrested. And he knew that if he died, childless, then-'
'- there would be no more blood sacrifices…'
'The covenant would be broken, and the demon would return.'
Thank you everyone for your reviews and feedback! Back to my usual fulsome comments in the next chapter, but I'd just like to say love and best wishes to everyone reading, especially those reviewing - and quickly: sorry, I don't know why it's all in boldface, it's only happened since ff.net changed their preview facility to include "quick edit" (I'm hoping I've sussed it this time round though); and Gina, I've hunted Mugglenet and can find no reference to JKR categorically saying Snape's a Slyth. I'd be interested in a direct link if you've got one...
Take care, everyone - I hope to post chapter 21 v. soon! Thank you and goodnight ;