The Other Side Of The Dark: Chapter 21

Moody gazed almost blankly at Dumbledore. He felt a curious detachment as the rational part of his mind quelled the rising fury and lent him a steady voice.

'Let me see if I have this correct, Albus. Snape is obscenely powerful – and yet he does not know what he is capable of. But, despite believing himself no more gifted than anyone else AND knowing if he dies childless this monster is once more unleashed on the earth… he risks his life daily by spying for the Order? Or is he somehow indestructible? Which raises the question of how such a person might die; and yet you tell me that he is dying…?'

Moody broke off in exasperation and disbelief. Dumbledore gave another slow shake of his head.

'I understand your questions, Alastor, although I can only offer my assumptions as answers. Severus made a potentially fatal choice, all by himself, when he decided to leave Voldemort. After he came to Frank, he faced another choice: whether to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban, or whether to spy for us. A prison sentence could have been just as fatal, since he would have been unable to maintain the covenant. So the choice was spying.

'At the time the risks seemed minimal. Occlumency is almost second nature to him; given how completely he had turned away from them, I knew he had to have been shielding his mind and emotions from the Malfoys and the other Death Eaters – and Voldemort – for some time. We were, therefore, asking him to do very little more than he had been doing anyway, and incidentally allowing him to continue with his own private destiny; although the Longbottoms never knew this. Consider for a moment, Alastor, the potential consequences of Voldemort discovering who and what Severus is. The only conclusion is that Voldemort – still – does not know.'

Moody's normal eye narrowed into Dumbledore's steady gaze. 'But someone does, don't they? Snape gave himself away with that spell at school.' He broke off again, frowning. 'How much of his own family history does Snape know? You said his father didn't have time to teach him everything. Thinking about it, they only really had the school holidays, and then the old man died just after his son finished his final exams. Does he know how much you know?'

Dumbledore considered the questions, but as he was about to answer, the kitchen door opened and Minerva McGonagall came in. She looked pale and worried, but determined. She nodded to Moody as she came over to Dumbledore, pulling a sheet of paper out of her bag.

'It took me a while to track them all down. There are two missing.'

Dumbledore scanned the list in his hand as McGonagall put her bag on the table and began unpacking bottles and paper bags. Moody picked one up and gave a snort.

'I have to admire your faith in me, Albus,' he said, putting the bottle down. 'But if I felt unprepared to try this spell before, it's nothing to how I feel now you've told me what'll happen if Snape dies!'

McGonagall turned an uncharacteristically pathetic glance on Moody. 'There is no one else, Alastor,' she said. 'The only people who know Severus is here are we in this house, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. No one else can be allowed to know.'

'You were a gifted Healer, Alastor,' said Dumbledore gently. 'We will support you and lend you our strength while you work. We shall not compromise our chances of success by worrying about the possible outcomes, for those are inevitable if we do nothing.'

Moody looked at them both, at Dumbledore's bright eyes full of faith, and McGonagall's full of hope. He nodded, taking a deep breath and summoning his resolve. 'Let's do it then,' he growled.

Harry drifted in and out of his twilight doze. He was aware that Dobby had been gone some time, and that Tonks was standing by the window, brooding into the failing light. He closed his eyes, only for a moment, it seemed; but when he opened them, it was to see Lupin standing with her, his arm around her shoulders as he spoke in a low voice. Harry blinked again: suddenly the room was full of people.

'…will need to remove the impediment to the charm; anything which inhibits that could also stop us breaking it… '

It felt as someone had taken a heavy blanket off his head. Harry sat up, suddenly fully conscious for the first time in twenty-four hours. He gazed fuzzily around at the ominously silent group, and wondered what was going to happen next.

Moody look around the room in which Snape lay. Dumbledore and McGonagall were next door, reviving Harry and explaining what they were about to attempt to Lupin and Tonks. He knew the information would be badly received, but all points considered, this was their only option. How he wished there was another.

He finished administering another vitalis potion and settled Snape on his back, the blankets tucked in around his waist. Never did get round to healing the rest of the wound, he reflected absently, gazing at the bandages covering the man's body from waist to neck. The ghost of Snape's left arm lay in translucent repose, the long nails slightly sunk into the surface of the blanket as if into a shallow pool of water. At least he now understood how Snape was able to detach himself from the Dark Mark, and he almost laughed at the absurdity of the thought. How irrelevant all his earlier questions now seemed in the face of Dumbledore's bombshell! And yet it seemed unreal, now he was dealing with the mundanity of Snape's basic care, nothing more than a supernatural horror story.

There was a knock at the door. Moody turned sharply and saw Dumbledore and the others waiting outside, the tall figure of Shacklebolt at the back of the group, and the Potter boy leaning on Lupin's arm. 'Come in!' he called gruffly, and set the bottle McGonagall had brought him, now opened, on the table beside the bed.

They trooped in silently. Harry looked pale and exhausted, following McGonagall without a word to sit on the end of Moody's bed. Tonks had clearly been crying, but seemed resigned. Lupin put a comforting arm around her as they stood together by the window. The others looked resolute and grim, but Moody thought he detected something else in Shacklebolt's expression, something which suggested he had important information to share. Moody made a mental note to ask him later.

Dumbledore glanced over at him, silently asking if they were ready, as Shacklebolt closed the door. Moody gave a small nod, then addressed the room.

'Right. This is a straightforward procedure, but it takes some energy, which is why I've asked for you all to be here.' He looked meaningfully around the room, holding each gaze in turn to be sure they all understood him. They did; although Harry seemed to have become more lucid and was wearing a rather confused frown. Moody ignored him.

'Thank you. OK, Remus and Tonks, if you stand either side of the window; draw back the curtains, but don't open it. Shacklebolt, you're fine where you are, if you could just move a little more towards Tonks so you're between us…'

Harry blinked slowly around the room as they all moved into position, his face looking oddly naked without its spectacles. 'What are you going to do?' he asked in a hoarse whisper.

'It's alright, Harry,' McGonagall whispered, surreptitiously tightening her hold on his shoulders and drawing him closer to her, even as she shifted her own position so she was facing Shacklebolt across the room. 'We're going to make you both better.'

Harry's frown deepened, aware that McGonagall was uncharacteristically talking to him as if he was a child. Before he could say anything more, however, Tonks burst out in a shrill voice, 'It's too dangerous!'

Dumbledore and Moody exchanged tense glances.

'It's the only chance either of them have, Tonks,' Dumbledore said gently. 'The longer we wait, the weaker Harry and Severus become.'

'But Dobby's gone to get the Pensieve; we could give Professor Snape back his memories and-'

'There's no guarantee that would help,' Moody broke in gruffly. 'We know whatever memories he removed had to be ones he didn't like, and we'd be giving them all back in one go, without any way of warning him what was going to happen.' He and Dumbledore exchanged the flicker of a glance. 'He's still physically weak; the shock could be too much.'

'But what if this doesn't work?' Tonks asked, her eyes deep with horror and confusion. 'Spells cast by Sirius' mother are still working! And this one's a lot more powerful than a Permanent Sticking Charm!'

Harry looked up at Moody and Dumbledore, unnerved by Tonks' words.

'It's not the same, Tonks,' replied Moody quietly. 'The Permanent Sticking Charm didn't belong to Madame Black, and one day it'll just wear out. But this spell seems to be Snape's own invention – and two of us don't have time to wait.'

'There's got to be another way,' Tonks moaned, but Harry could hear defeat in her voice. Lupin drew her into hug, his eyes miserable.

'Severus is in no condition to lift the spell,' Dumbledore continued gently. 'We are unable to do so either. In circumstances like these, the only option is a procedure to halt the life processes of the wizard who cast it.'

Harry blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog in his mind as the impossible sank in. He stared in blank disbelief at Dumbledore. 'You're going to kill him?' he asked.

Moody regarded him with a glint in his normal eye. 'Miss him, would you Potter?' He gave a sour chuckle. 'It's the only chance either of you've got. The charm is killing both of you. And the only way we can break it is by killing him. At least we'd save one of you.'

Harry dropped his gaze, nausea stirring in the pit of his stomach. He did not want Snape to die to save him; he did not want anyone to die. His head felt heavy; he rubbed his eyes as the familiar tiredness began to wash over him, sucking him unchecked towards Snape's dream world. If the charm was leeching power from them both, would he not also be caught up in Snape's death?

Moody seemed either unaware or unconcerned by this possibility. He turned his attention instead towards Snape lying helpless in his bed, magical eye scanning his body in long, rapid sweeps. Then he took a pair of long-nosed scissors from the table beside the bed and began cutting away the bandages.

Harry shivered. He could almost imagine how the blades would feel as they slid against his chest, the chill of metal on exposed flesh. He looked away, and, from the corner of his eye, saw Professor McGonagall watching him with concern.

Moody pushed the bandages aside and straightened up. 'Right,' he growled quietly. 'Let's have you two' – he glanced towards Tonks and Lupin – 'standing over there by the window like I asked. Albus, you go the other side of his head.'

Silently everyone did as they were asked. Harry stared at the thin naked figure lying on the bed in front of him. Snape looked so vulnerable and small as Moody loomed over him, wand raised in one hand.

Harry felt the blackness of the faint coming on him again; and now he let himself sink, willing himself inwards. He knew it was the only way he had of warning Snape of what was about to happen.

HI lovely readers! Sorry it's been so long, and as ever, huge thanks for the positive feedback! As you can see, I reached a rather crucial part of the plot – and then got a bit stuck. But I think I'm back on track now – just over a year after posting the first chapter! Really didn't think it would take this long… but that's Real Life for you, isn't it? : Hope it was worth the wait ;) Lots of Love, S.

P.S. On the subject of Snape being a Gryffindor: well, there were some very logical reasons for thinking he may have been! But JKR has specifically said, in one of her recent website updates, that he was a Slytherin. So I did think about relabelling this story AU… but then realised it doesn't actually make much difference to the story if Snape's a Gryffindor or a Slyth. So maybe I'll think about doing that after I've finished it!