The Other Side Of The Dark: Chapter 27

The fog cleared. Moody glanced around. He appeared to be in dense forest, tall trees keeping out the light with their foliage. It must be summer, he thought; even in the gloom, he could see that everything was in its prime.

A rustle just behind him drew his attention. He turned in time to see the bushes move; then a figure in fur-lined robes burst from behind them, wild-eyed and desperate.

'Severus!' the man cried, and Moody recognised him as Igor Karkaroff. Snape emerged from the dusk, level with Moody. The change in his appearance since the last memory seemed profound. The long hair had been untidily cut so it just brushed his shoulders, and the coloured, silken robes had been replaced with plain black ones. He glanced down at Snape's hands, hanging loosely at his side, and noticed the impressive set of talons had gone as well, hacked down as short as possible.

'Hello Igor,' he said softly. 'Why are you here? The Dark Lord will be expecting us both. I had every intention of going to him as soon as my duties permitted it. But there was nothing to stop you leaving at once. Why didn't you?'

Karkaroff gave a disbelieving bark of a laugh. 'Are you mad, Severus? The Dark Lord will be angry with us! All this time he's been alive, and we… we did nothing!'

Snape moved forward with an assurance that made him appear to float over the forest floor. Karkaroff stumbled away from him as if afraid.

'The Dark Lord will forgive us, Igor,' Snape whispered. 'We had no way of knowing he was still alive, nor where he was. All we have to do is return now and renew our allegiance. He may punish us, but it will be worth it.'

Karkaroff backed himself into a tree and stopped, looking too frightened to move. 'No, Severus! He thinks one of us is a traitor! There is a traitor, you know that, don't you? Someone who was giving away our secrets, even before he fell! He'll think it's one of us because we didn't go when he summoned us! And that Auror, Moody – that wasn't really him! That was Barty Crouch, spying on us both, all the time we've been here!'

Snape stopped, only a few feet from Karkaroff. 'Yes,' he said. 'I know. But it doesn't matter now, Igor, because Barty was kissed by a Dementor. So he is in no condition to tell anyone anything about either of us.'

Some of the tension seemed to ease from Karkaroff, and he pushed himself upright, away from the tree. Snape withdrew his wand, and Karkaroff gazed uncertainly at it.

'Of course,' Snape continued absently, 'you are probably right about the spy. It had to be one of us; everyone else seems to be accounted for, one way or another.'

Karkaroff stared at him, and Moody watched as the devious mind moved towards a conclusion. Karkaroff's eyes widened, but now there was a cunning light in them. 'You!' he breathed. 'You were the spy?'

Snape gazed at him, his eyes soulless behind the veil of greasy hair. 'Yes,' he said lightly. 'I still am, as a matter of fact, Igor.' He spread his hands wide, wand hanging carelessly from the long fingers. The corner of his mouth lifted in a nasty smirk. 'What do you think? Did you have any idea at all?'

Karkaroff staggered back, fumbling with his own wand until he held it in a shaky grasp, pointed at Snape. 'You've made a mistake in telling me, Severus,' he replied, 'you're my way back in! I'll take you back, and the Dark Lord will reward me for capturing the spy!'

Snape smirked more deeply, drifting a little closer, making no effort to aim his wand. 'Be my guest,' he whispered. 'But do you really think you're up to the job? Do you really think you'll take me alive?'

'Then I'll take you dead!' shouted Karkaroff. 'AVEDA KEDAVRA!'

Snape opened his arms wide, his lips moving silently as he closed his eyes. As Moody watched in disbelief, a jet of green light shot from Karkaroff's wand and hit him squarely in the chest. There was a moment of stillness. Then Karkaroff dropped heavily to the ground, the impact forcing a last gasp from his lungs.

Snape let his arms fall to his sides, and he gazed for a moment at the dead wizard. Then he swiftly moved over to the body and seized one of its arms. There was a dizzying moment as the forest dissolved around him. Then, with a rush of colour, the scene resolved itself into a graveyard.

Moody looked around. Pale gravestones and moss-covered tombs lay undisturbed in all directions, and for a moment, they seemed to be alone. Then, like shadows, cloaked figures began appearing, moving in one by one until they formed a closed circle around Snape and his unpleasant burden. There was a moment of silence; then two Death Eaters stepped aside to allow a tall figure to join them.

Moody found himself taking an apprehensive breath as the figure drew back its hood. Blood red eyes burned in a face too snake-like to resemble anything human. It stalked towards Snape, who gazed up with the same puppy-like expression he had worn for Octavian Malfoy.

'My Lord,' Snape whispered, falling to his knees. 'Please forgive me.' He grasped the edge of Voldemort's robe and kissed it desperately. 'I would have come sooner, but it is not possible to Disapparate from within Hogwarts' grounds, and I– '

'Severus.'

Voldemort spoke in a high, chilling voice that raised the hairs on the back of Moody's neck, even inside the memory. He did not think he had ever been this close to the Dark Lord in real life. He walked around the little scene, taking in every detail of the horror of Voldemort's new physical being. He wondered, for the first time in a while, what the Potter boy had experienced in the terrible hour he had spent in this place.

Snape looked almost drained with terror as he gazed up at his former lord. Voldemort reached down and wound long, scaly fingers into Snape's hair, raising him to his feet until they were face to face. The piercing, crimson eyes bore down with terrible power. Snape held the gaze for a few moments. Then with a moan, his eyes rolled and his knees buckled. Voldemort let him go, and Snape collapsed on top of Karkaroff's body with a whimper.

'So this is the traitor, is it, Severus?' Voldemort enquired. He beckoned with a quick gesture, and two burly Death Eaters broke the circle to pick up Karkaroff's body. Snape pulled himself to his feet, shaking slightly.

'Yes, my Lord,' he whispered hoarsely. 'I discovered that Karkaroff had betrayed us at his trial, and during the last few months at Hogwarts I was able to discover the rest of his treachery. After the Tri-Wizard contest had ended, I tracked him to the Forbidden Forest, just beyond wards which protect the school. I challenged him and he confessed everything to me. He tried to kill me, and I killed him. I brought him here … f-for you, my Lord.'

Voldemort stared down at Snape in silence. Snape gave him a pleading look. 'My Lord… I can hide nothing from you. If you search my heart, you will find my fears… and my love.' He knelt at Voldemort's feet and this time bent his head to kiss the robes. His face twisted in grief and tears began to flow. 'Forgive me, my Lord!' he wept, 'I truly believed you dead. If I had but known, I would have come at once…'

Moody studied the performance carefully. It was very persuasive. He found himself comparing it to the way Snape had behaved when he was explaining himself to Frank and Dumbledore. If he had been a true observer at each event, Moody knew he would have found himself equally convinced by Snape on both occasions. But here in the Pensieve, there were stronger clues to identify the lies. Moody finally made the realisation that had been nagging him earlier. Obvious, really, now he thought about it. Memories are not an objective record of events, but a subjective projection of their owner's perceptions. And in here, right now, the lies were easier to see because of Snape's underlying insecurity about his act. What must it have taken, to look into that monster's eyes and lie? The terror had been absolutely genuine. What did it take to successfully deceive a wizard as powerful as Voldemort?

For that matter, what did it take to deflect the Killing Curse? That was impossible! Oh yes, Harry Potter had done it – but that was a very specific case, and nobody had come up with an adequate explanation for how it had happened, in Moody's opinion. Certainly not enough for anyone to work out a counter-curse for surviving it, surely?

Such immense power. To own such power and be able to hide it… and yet have no idea of its extent? Moody frowned. Many of his original burning questions were already answered, but now he had new ones. And the nagging sense that these were more important than any he had previously asked.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Harry jumped sharply, his attention wrenched from the scroll almost as soon as he'd realised what it was. 'Yes?'

Tonks came in with a warm smile, looking refreshed. Lupin smiled back, and Harry sensed him relax at the sight of her. Anger licked at the pit of his stomach.

'Dumbledore just contacted me to say he and McGonagall are coming over,' she said to Lupin, with a passing, automatic smile at Harry. 'They'll be here in a few minutes; see you down in the kitchen?'

Lupin looked from Tonks to Harry, as if torn. Then, with a resigned look, he said, 'Okay then, I'll see you later, Harry.'

He got up, leaving the book on the end of the bed, and gave Harry's shoulder another squeeze before leaving with Tonks.

Harry listened to their footsteps disappear, then turned his attention back to the scroll. It suited him fine that they were leaving him alone. Somehow he suspected they wouldn't want him to read this particular scroll; it had obviously got mixed up with the others by accident.

He unrolled it carefully, and read again the opening lines:

Ministry of Magic: Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Incident Report: Saturday 15th May 1982

Submitted by: Alastor Moody, Senior Auror

Voldemort had evidently believed Snape; but Moody already knew that. It hadn't, however, stopped him punishing him with a couple of liberal doses of the Cruciatus curse. The scene faded with Snape sobbing pathetically at Voldemort's feet as the Dark Lord issued orders to the assembled Death Eaters.

Moody heaved a sigh. As this event had taken place just over a year ago, it must surely be the last memory in here? He stood in the grey void feeling mentally drained, waiting for the Pensieve to release him.

Instead, the fog began to draw back. Moody found himself standing on a floor made from a solid plane of rock; dark, striated, shot through with narrow veins of crystal. He looked around and saw that he was standing in a vast stone cavern, the walls as sheer as the floor. Only the shadows gave shape to the distant perimeters, and these were created by numerous small oil lamps, placed apparently at random around the carven floor.

Moody looked around. Snape was here somewhere, but he couldn't see him. Then, just on the edge of his hearing, came a low voice.

'… name you Nameless One; willingly I give you my blood, that you may feed and be gone from this place until I or my heir shall come to feed you again…'

Moody moved towards the sound, and the shadows revealed a tall, thin figure, robed and cowled in black. As he watched, there was a flash of silver as the dim light caught the edge of a blade, then a glimpse of long white fingers as they closed around it. There was a slight gasp. Moody drew level with the figure in time to see Severus raise his closed fist to his face with a grimace of pain… and fear.

'Khvalibog…'

The voice was like ice down Moody's spine. He looked around quickly to see where it came from, but there was nothing. He looked at Severus, and found himself gazing directly into the dark eyes; and they were as black and depthless as they had ever seemed. For a moment, for the first time inside the Pensieve, Moody had the unnerving sense that he was part of the memory he was witnessing. He was aware that the air was cold and the floor hard and unyielding, and beneath it lay thousands of feet of rock, all the way down to the earth's core. And the air was thin… and hard to breathe…

'Feed me…' the guttural voice demanded. Severus raised his hands, the black sleeves of his robe falling back from pale, scrawny arms.

Moody felt weak. The cold was more than physical; it was like the first icy prickle of panic welling up from the oldest part of his brain, from a time when he was helpless and dependent, and mortally afraid of the dark. He leaned heavily on his staff, suddenly aware that he only had one good leg and one natural eye. Then, to his horror, Moody suddenly realised he was completely blind on one side; while the sense of his mortal self had increased, his magical eye was suddenly useless. He swayed, beginning to loose his balance; and as he started to fall he saw a dark mist drifting up from Severus' feet, shrouding his body until only the gleam of the knife was clearly visible. The mist began to thicken, take on shape… and Severus was suddenly held by a giant black hand, a muscled fist closed around the length of his body.

Moody landed heavily, as if falling from a great height. The impact forced the breath from his body, as it had from Karkaroff's, and he felt a deathly inertia come upon him. Above him he could see three dark, wet lines running down Severus' bare arms and into the mist… it was impossible to draw breath, and the darkness was closing in, unconsciousness and the absence of light combining into one, suffocating sense of despair.

A hand like narrow bands of steel closed on his wrist. Moody suddenly found himself able to breathe, and he sucked in desperate breaths. The fear was gone, but the darkness became disorientating; there was a dizzying, spinning sensation, and…

… Moody was sitting at the table in front of the obsidian Pensieve. Kneeling at his side, fingers still locked around his wrist, was Snape, trembling and gasping on the floor.

It took Moody a full minute to come to his senses. Then with a curse, he surged awkwardly to his feet, knocking over his chair and almost overbalancing. Snape's grip was turning clammy, but showing no sign of loosening; his breathing was hoarse and laboured. Moody prised the fingers loose and let his patient collapse as he threw open his trunk and searched frantically for the potion that would hold off a heart attack. How Snape had found the strength to get out of bed and pull him from the Pensieve he did not know. Sometimes a nervous surge of adrenaline could give a critically ill person the strength they needed to move around if they wanted to badly enough. But when the adrenaline was exhausted, the exertion could prove fatal.

He found it at last, and turned to where Snape lay, sprawled and gasping. Pulling out the stopper, he upturned the small bottle. A clear stream of liquid poured over Snape's back, and the laboured breathing began to ease. Moody breathed a sigh of relief. He stoppered the bottle and threw it back into his trunk, and gazed down with a small frown.

'What did you think you were doing?' he grumbled. 'You're not strong enough for this.'

Snape twisted his head up, just far enough to fix Moody with a burning glare. 'What did you think you were doing?' he hissed. 'As if you hadn't seen enough by then!'

Moody regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then retrieved his wand from the table. 'Mobilicorpus,' he muttered, and levitated his patient back onto the bed. Snape lay on his back in a crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, still breathing heavily as he glared at the ceiling. Moody began remaking the bed.

'The ex-house-elf gave me your Pensieve in return for your freedom. If it gave me the answers I wanted,' he said.

'And do you have them?' Snape asked. Moody folded the blankets high under his chin, but Snape fought his good arm free. Moody caught it, feeling for the pulse, and felt Snape flinch at his touch.

'No,' he replied quietly, and sat down on the edge of the bed. He held on to the wrist, opening up the fingers and examining the palm. No sign of a scar. He looked up to see Snape looking at him, and was struck by the intense look of hatred in his eyes.

'What happened?' Moody asked. 'I've seen the memories of you and your dad. Of you at school. You killing Octavian Malfoy and Igor Karkaroff, and you giving yourself up to Frank and Albus. But that last memory… that was different. What would have happened if you hadn't got me out? And what made you come after me? Did you know what I was seeing, or was that just chance?'

The tendons in Snape's wrist stood out like wires above the bone as he strained uselessly to withdraw his hand from Moody's grasp. Then with a defeated gasp he gave up, and turned his face away. There was a long silence.

'The demon exists on all levels,' he whispered eventually. 'Even in my memory, if you get too close, it knows you're there. They don't inhabit time like we do.'

He took a heavy breath, as if speech was hard work, and Moody guessed exhaustion was about to take him. 'I'm linked to it by my blood. When it sees something it wants, I feel it. For the last four thousand years it has had no chance to see anything except my family, so when it… became excited, I immediately realised that it had to be seeing someone invading my memory of it.'

He turned his gaunt face back to Moody. 'I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't come for you.' The eyes closed.

Moody tugged gently on his hand. 'Two more questions,' he said. 'You seemed to be suggesting I could have brought myself out of there whenever I pleased. I don't know how. Also, can I choose to enter the Pensieve at a point after your memories of visiting the demon? Bear in mind that your freedom may depend on this.'

Snape opened his eyes and glared weakly. 'There are only two memories of the demon. When you touch the Pensieve with your wand, concentrate on the assumption that you have already seen those memories, and make yourself believe it. As for getting out… tell the Pensieve you have seen all you need and that your questions are answered. Believe it, and the Pensieve will expel you.'

Interesting. Moody placed the limp hand gently on the sleeping man's chest and looked thoughtfully at the Pensieve. He would give Snape his next infusion of vitalis potion, have a short rest, and then try again.

At approximately 3am on the morning of Saturday 15th May 1982, I was summoned to the residence of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, 18 Firkin Lane, London NW1.

On my arrival I observed that the house was in darkness. There was no sign of forced entry. The front door was open fractionally, and I entered by it.

The house was silent. I illuminated the hall and discovered the doors to the drawing room, dining room and kitchen were open. All three rooms had been extensively vandalised: most of the furniture destroyed, the contents of cupboards and drawers strewn about the floors. No graffiti or damage to the structure of the house. No sign of magical damage. No sign of any persons, resident or otherwise.

I ascended the stairs to the first floor. As before, every door stood open and every room had been ransacked. Impossible to tell at this stage if anything had been taken. Still no sign of the Longbottoms or their assailants.

On the second floor the damage indicated a struggle. Burn marks on the wall of the nursery, furniture overturned and smashed, toys ripped to pieces. Clear signs of a fight in the master bedroom: more burn marks, some blood on the door frame.

At the end of the corridor was a closed door. It was the room Alice used as her office. Blood seeping underneath the door. I used the Reductor curse to remove the door.

The carpet is soaked in blood so deeply that it covers my feet as I enter the room, flowing from its source on my left. The wall to my left is damaged by four long, deep bloody gashes. I cannot recognise anything in the remains which lie beneath the damage in the wall, but it is from this that the blood flows.

A young wizard stands in front of the fireplace, holding the Longbottoms' baby. I recognised him to be Severus Snape, an employee of Octavian Malfoy and resident at Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire. He is pointing his wand at the child. There is blood all over the baby's back where Snape is holding him by his coat. I aimed my wand him and told him to give me the child. I advised him that it would be in his favour to let the child go unharmed and that I would kill him if he did not. He looked at me with an intensity of hatred and animosity which is beyond my powers to describe. He threatened to kill the child if I did not do as he said. He told me to put down my wand or he would kill the child. I did as he said and raised my hands to indicate that I was unarmed. He aimed his wand at me and held the child out to me. The child began to scream as I took him. As soon as I was holding the child, Snape Disapparated.

I saw Alice lying underneath the window. She appeared to be dead. I observed that she had been tortured to death. In her hand she held a red pendant on a long gold chain evidence item 1. Other Aurors arrived at the Longbottoms' house at this time. We found Frank's body lying in a pool of blood opposite Alice. I left the other Aurors, and Disapparated straight to St. Mungo's with the Longbottoms' child, which was deeply distressed.

Harry gazed into space. So that was what the Aurors had found on the night Neville's parents were driven out of their minds by Death Eaters. What had Snape been doing there? Had he really been involved? He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

He had never given it much thought before, but it occurred to him now that Snape had always been as unpleasant to Neville as he had been to him. That was why Neville was so afraid of him, wasn't it?

And yet Harry couldn't think of one instance where he himself had been afraid. Angry, filled with hatred – but fear? No. Now he came to think of it, he had never once been scared of Snape. But Neville was petrified.

Maybe this was why. Somewhere deep down, Neville remembered what had happened to his parents, and who was responsible. That was why he had reacted so badly in their fourth year, when he had seen the Cruciatus curse demonstrated on a spider; why he had worked so hard in the Defence Against The Dark Arts club last year after the Lestranges escaped Azkaban…

… why Snape had been the thing he had feared most when he faced a boggart in Lupin's class two years ago…?

Yay! Thanks for the reviews! Erm.. only one chapter tonight, as I've just read through the second one and decided I wanted to change a few bits, general polishing, type of thing. Should be up on Sunday though :)

Warmest hugs all round - thanks again! And please review ;D