Harry Potter and the Soul of the Serpent
Chapter 14
Destiny's Fate
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Radszilla- Originally I was going to have an alternate version that had romance but I'm kind of getting bored with this story. I like the character of Katie and will probably use it in my next fic, which may also contain some slight romance.
Slash and Burn- Sorry, but this is going to end pretty quickly. I don't think I'm going to go very in depth into the Snape/Katie relationship, but who knows what I'll think of in the last chapter?
Anime Monster- Thankyou! I usually don't like OC either but, as you say, I don't mind Katie too much. Maybe this is because it isn't a Mary-Sue :)
She's kind of just there to explain a bit of Snape's past and fill out the story a bit, but I will definitely put her in my next fic, and involve her some more.
And thankyou to logi, who has reviewed the most :)
oOoOo
Harry sat on a rock, overlooking the lake. The cold wind whipping towards him contrasted starkly with the heat of the rock below him. It was a subtle reminder of the two forces pulling at him, but he knew night was approaching, and in the end, cold would win over the warmth and the light.
He didn't look up as Katie sat next to him, but was strangely grateful for her presence. Although he would have preferred to be alone, her quietly unassuming was reassured him.
"I'm going to commit murder soon," he said quietly, staring out over the waves.
"You can't murder someone who isn't alive," she replied, equally softly.
"But who am I to decide whether he's alive or not. I'm not God."
"But people still worship you."
"Ironic, isn't it."
They sat in silence as the sun slowly set.
"When this is over, I'll be able to have my father back," Katie said softly. "For that reason, I welcome the end. But if it meant that you had to die, it would be a hard choice."
"Lucky it's not your choice then, isn't it," said Harry.
"Harry…I feel so terrible for what's happening to you. I want to make it go away, but there's nothing I can do."
Harry looked at her for the first time.
"Knowing that you understand is enough, Katherine."
And it was. Somehow, he felt as though maybe, when he was gone, he would be remembered for more than being Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. He would be Harry Potter, the boy.
He closed his eyes slowly. He felt as though he were about to cry, but couldn't. A strange sensation sat in his chest, threatening constantly to rise up, but never doing so.
He felt anxiety, and frustration, and deep down, an overwhelming sense of unfairness.
"You shouldn't be out here. Not now that Voldemort probably knows about you."
He felt Katie shrug.
"Maybe."
She stood up.
"It's getting cold, Harry. Are you coming back?"
Harry nodded and stood up beside her.
They walked quickly back to the castle, the lights flickering in the windows their only guide in the dark night.
Harry wearily rubbed his scar, which had been burning angrily all day. The two of them went to the kitchens, just as they had done on the holidays that now seemed so far away.
They sat in an empty class room and ate silently, until Harry finally broached a subject that he wasn't quite sure he should.
"When…when did your mother die?"
Katie looked at him in surprise.
"I think it was about fifteen years ago. I was only a few months old at the time."
"My parents were killed that night, too."
And it was true. For Harry had recognised, from Snape's memories the similarity with his own. He knew without doubt that the night Severus Snape had changed sides was the night that he had left the wizarding world. It gave him some sense of peace to know that Snape had not helped to kill his parents.
"Why do you ask?"
Harry shook his head slowly, debating whether to tell her.
"I saw…your father's memories. Some of them, any way. I always wondered why he changed sides."
Katie nodded.
"He hates it."
"He hates me."
"It's not his fault."
"It's not mine."
"He had a bad childhood."
"So did I."
"You two are more similar than you care to admit."
"I don't think so."
"If you would both just admit it, it would save you both a lot of pain."
Harry snorted at the truth in her words as he thought of what he had done to Snape.
"I think it's too late."
oOoOo
"Why did no one tell me of this?" Voldemort hissed to the circle of gathered Death Eaters. "Why was I not aware that Potter had these powers, and why, why was I not told that Severus Snape had a daughter?"
The assembled Death Eaters fidgeted restlessly and some murmured incoherently.
"Well?" Voldemort hissed. "Explain to me why I had to find this out from a student of the school. Draco Malfoy, step forward."
Malfoy stumbled forward quickly and bowed deeply.
"Master."
"You have done your father proud, Draco. It is a shame he is not here to show it."
"Thankyou, my Lord," Malfoy murmured.
"You will now take my Mark, so that you may serve me and come when you are summoned. Rise."
Malfoy rose quickly to his feet, pale face unsure but determined.
He pulled the sleeve of his robes and held out his left arm.
"Good," Voldemort hissed quietly. He stared down at Malfoy's arm, a strange mixture of greed and insanity lighting his features.
He reached forward with his wand and murmured a quiet incantation.
Malfoy cried out in pain as his arm began to burn. It was as though the Mark was branding itself into his forearm.
Voldemort chuckled softly. He enjoyed this.
The pain slowly subsided and Malfoy's cries turned to quiet gasps.
It was at this time that he realised what he had done. He had turned his life over to Voldemort. His fate was now as predetermined as Potter's.
One of the Death Eaters spoke up.
"My Lord, we believe that his daughter is the one you sent us to kill. Obviously, someone did not do their job."
"And who was that person, Mulligan?" Voldemort asked, voice deadly quiet.
"I- I do not know-"
"CRUCIO!"
Malfoy jumped to the side as the spell shot dangerously close to him and watched, heart pounding, as Mulligan writhed on the ground.
Standing their, surrounded by evil, Malfoy wondered, what had he done?
oOoOo
Snape gripped his forearm and closed his eyes as the Dark Mark burned. He was angry, so angry. The anger radiated from the skull, spreading like fire through Snape's nerves.
He wondered again if he would survive this war. He knew his time was steadily running out, and prayed to whatever powers existed that his daughter would always be safe.
He cursed the day he had become aware of the world.
He remembered it so well. His father, he knew, had always been a Death Eater. His mother, God bless her soul, had been a pureblood who was quietly dissatisfied with the mania surrounding bloodlines, though was unwilling to risk her own life to speak out against it.
The day a young Severus turned eight, she had been murdered; an eerie warning of what awaited Snape in his future. On this day, Snape's father introduced him to the Dark Arts, told him that without them he could not avenge his mother's death. He did not tell the young Severus that he had orchestrated the whole affair.
As Snape grew older, the pureblood obsession became firmly instilled in his mind, though he never forgot the quiet words his mother had whispered to him at night, when no one was listening.
Hear me, Severus. Your blood does not, and will never determine what you become. Do not let your life be ruled by those who believe themselves greater than you, for your potential can only be unlocked by belief in yourself. I love you.
At school, he made friends with others of the same lineage- Rosier, Wilkes, Avery and of course, the infamous Lestranges.
How he regretted those years. When he had received the Dark Mark it was because he believed he was going against those who killed his mother. He pledged his allegiance to exact revenge on those people, silently promising his mother he had not forgotten her words.
He hated the Death Eaters and their grovelling, and as he matured, he realised the lies that had been force fed to him over the years. His anger grew, and with it his detachment from others.
Three years after joining Voldemort's ranks, he was introduced to Adele. She came from and pure blood family with Italian roots. Her foreign heritage had attracted him, and she seemed to understand when he eventually trusted her enough to confide his beliefs about Voldemort. Before they married, he promised her he would no longer work for Voldemort.
Someone, Snape did not know who, eventually became aware of this. Months after their daughter was born, Snape was summoned. The Dark Lord had heard of his waning obedience. A lesson was in order, he said. He returned home to find his wife dead, and his daughter lying silently on the floor.
It had taken no more for Snape to realise that he had been wrong to ever join Voldemort. He berated himself fro pretending to have listened to his mother's advice.
The next day, he sent his daughter far away, where it was safe.
Snape had never felt so bad. Because of his foolishness- and Potter's- Voldemort knew about his daughter.
Maybe…a trade?
Potter's life for his daughter's? Would Voldemort accept?
He knew he could never do it, at least not yet. He knew, deep down, that the fate of the world was more important than he and his daughter. But he didn't want it to be.
If only he had been born into a different family. If only he had listened to the advice given to him over the years. If only the right people had given him advice. If only he had been able to trust more people. The list went on.
He didn't want to admit that the only person he could really blame was himself.
oOoOo
Harry entered the Gryffindor common room and was assaulted by the bright red and gold. Right now all he wanted to see was the back of his eyelids. But that was not possible. He opened the portrait and was immediately besieged by people trying to congratulate him.
He pulled back from them in irritation, trying to hold his temper. He mumbled curt replies to the teeming Gryffindors and pushed his way toward the dormitory. He finally struggled up the stairs and reached the silence of his room. Unfortunately, it was not empty.
Ron and Hermione sat silently on Ron's bed, looking at him. Harry stood in the doorway for a second before sitting on the edge of his bed, facing them.
"How are you, Harry?" Hermione asked softly. For some reason this angered Harry.
"I'm fine."
"Come one mate, you can talk to us. We're supposed to be your friends," Ron said.
Harry looked away.
"Harry," Hermione began gently, "We know how you must feel but-"
"Really?" sneered Harry.
"Harry, please just listen to us," Hermione begged. "We want to help you."
"You can't help me, Hermione," Harry said, quietly incensed.
"Why not?" Ron asked. "Harry, this will all be over soon. Dumbledore will defeat Voldemort and you'll be able to live your life properly. Just don't give up before it's over, okay?"
"That's just it, Ron. That's why you can't help me, because you don't know the whole story. Dumbledore won't defeat Voldemort. I will."
"But you don't have to," Hermioine started, looking alarmed.
"I do," said Harry, standing up. He was sick of this conversation.
"But why? Please, tell us, Harry," she pleaded.
Harry sighed. He had known that one day he would have to tell him.
He sat down again, head in his hands.
"Because there's a prophecy," he mumbled. "A prophecy that says I have to kill Voldemort or he'll kill me."
Hermione and Ron stared.
"Oh Harry," she breathed.
"It can't be true," Ron said weakly.
"Well, get used to it, Ron, because it is. Why do you think Voldemort wanted to kill me in the first place? Because a stupid old bat made a prediction," Harry said bitterly, answering his own question.
"You'll beat him, Harry, I know you will," stated Ron vehemently.
"Yes, Ron. I will."
He didn't have the heart to tell them the rest.
oOoOo
"What of the Sorting Hat, Albus?"
Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore sat in the headmaster's office, tea untouched in front of them. Dumbledore sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time since their conversation had begun. Snape eyed Dumbledore critically. He looked old and weary, more so than ever before.
"I do not know, Severus. The Sorting Hat was a way for the founders to continue to choose students that were like themselves, as you already know. As a result, it has a little of each of the founders in it. Rowena Ravenclaw was a Seer, but I do not know if this ability was passed onto the Sorting Hat."
Dumbledore peered at the ceiling over his half-moon glasses, twiddling his thumbs.
"However, it seems that what it said does indeed have some truth, or foresight. Harry has indeed befriended a Slytherin, and Katherine does match the description. But do not fear, Severus. It is a good thing."
"How?" Snape snapped.
"The Sorting Hat said the houses will begin to unite. Understandably, you are afraid for your daughter, but the situation does have its merits."
"I am afraid," Snape hissed, his eyes flashing, "that Potter has become dangerous and potentially dark-"
"Not unlike yourself at his age," Dumbledore interrupted calmly.
"I did not go around cursing fellow students and teachers."
"That is true, however the circumstances were…quite different."
Snape remembered, clearly, what his circumstances had been, and they were, or so he thought, quite a bit worse than Potter's were.
"Remember, Severus. We must allow Harry a certain amount of…well, allowance. As you know, it is he who will decide the fate of the wizarding world."
oOoOo
Too many times, Draco Malfoy had been betrayed by those he thought he could trust. Snape's betrayal had been the worst.
So he had come here. He had sworn his allegiance to the evillest wizard of the time, and done it gladly. At the present time he lay, grovelling, at his master's feet. There was nothing more demeaning, Malfoy thought, than his current position. He instantly berated himself. He should consider himself to be honoured to have the privilege of grovelling before the Dark Lord.
"Rise, Draco," came the high, cold voice.
Malfoy jumped to his feet immediately, head bowed slightly.
Voldemort spoke again.
"I believe you are prepared to do this task?"
"Of course, my Lord. Anything."
"Spoken like your father," Voldemort murmured quietly. "Should you succeed, you will go a long way within this circle, Draco. However, if you do not…"
"I understand, my Lord. I will not fail you."
"Very well. You are dismissed."
oOoOo
Draco Malfoy's return to Hogwarts was unexpected and unwelcome. The moment he entered the gates, Dumbledore was informed, and met him before he could enter the castle.
Students peered nosily out of windows watching the frosty reception that the headmaster gave the former student. The conversation laster just over a minute and resulted in Malfoy turning and leaving the school the way he had come.
Harry, who was watching the scene with an entirely different opinion to the rest of the students, smirked. Suddenly though, he had a brain wave and, dropping his books, he dashed down the stairs and out onto the grass.
He ignored Dumbledore's warning as he hurtled past him and caught up to a stunned and angry Malfoy.
"Get lost, Potter, before I hex you!" Malfoy sneered.
"I doubt you could hex me," Harry said bracingly, before going on. "I just wanted to talk to you."
"What for?" Malfoy asked, stopping.
"Let's go somerwhere more private first," said Harry, subtly gripping the pendant. Before Malfoy could object, and Dumbledore could intrude any further, Harry had grabbed Malfoy's elbow and they disappeared.
oOoOo
Malfoy looked around, a combination of awe and fury clouding his features.
The stone ceiling glistened with moisture and he stared in awe at the serpentine statues around the walls.
"Where the hell are we, Potter? And how did you apparate inside Hogwarts?"
"That doesn't matter for now," said Harry shortly.
Obviously Malfoy was still slightly confused and Harry took the chance to pull out his wand.
"Stupefy!" he yelled.
Malfoy crumpled to the floor and Harry grabbed him and moved them both into the sitting room of the Chamber. He couldn't risk Malfoy finding out about the Chamber.
Working quickly, Harry yanked back the robes on Malfoy's left arm and stared in disgust at the black mark on his forearm. Harry hesitated only for a second before reaching out and pressing two fingers firmly to the mark.
He had expected the pain that ripped through his scar and, to an extent, the obvious pain that shot through Malfoy, as he twitched violently. Harry closed his eyes and let the blackness overtake his mind. There was a sound as though of rushing air and dark magic swirled around him. His scar burned in agony and he fought himself to take deep, calming breaths.
And then it stopped. Harry felt black, dark power reaching tentatively out to him, a little hesitantly. Then the voice spoke, resonating in Harry's head.
Harry Potter.
Tom, Harry replied. He felt a stab of annoyance and hate from the blackness surrounding him. I have come to tell you that your time is up. I will wait no longer.
A wave of humour washed over Harry.
My time is up? But Potter, it is you who shall perish when we meet.
We shall see, Tom. I will meet you tomorrow night at midnight, at the place where you were reborn. Then, we shall see.
For good measure, Harry sent a particularly strong feeling of malevolence out into the darkness, and with that, pulled himself back towards the light.
He blinked around at the room and immediately wrenched his arm away from Malfoy. It had worked better than he had thought it would.
He shook his head to banish the lingering pain and stood up, debating his next move.
Sighing softly, he sat down to wait for his head to clear. Although he was back in the Chamber, a lingering sense of darkness hung oppressingly on the air.
His looked around the room and his gaze landed on the Dark Mark as though it were drawn to it. The Mark was a mode of communication between Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and Harry had correctly assumed that if he touched it, this effect, coupled with his length to Voldemort, would allow them to speak. He had been right, and it had been an eerie feeling. He had felt as though he were in a cave, hovering in space over a deep abyss.
Abruptly he stood up. He had things to do. He needed to prepare. He grasped Malfoy's wrist and a second later they appeared in the hospital wing. A startled Madam Pomfrey dropped a tray she had been holding with a loud shriek.
"Potter, my word! Where did you- oh, never mind."
"Madam Pomfrey, I need you too look after Draco here. Please don't let him leave until the day after tomorrow at the earliest, and I don't care what Dumbledore says. He is stunned at the moment, and it is probably best if you left him that way."
"Oh… very- very well, then," she stuttered, somewhat confused.
Harry turned and swept out of the room. Out of respect for the witch who had saved him from certain pain countless times, he waited until he was out of sight before grasping the pendant. She would, he thought, probably have a heart attack if she saw him disappear into thin air.
oOoOo
"I'm going away tomorrow," said Harry, looking around at the three students.
"Where?" asked Ron, predictably rash.
Hermione looked frightened and Katherine just looked at Harry in silence.
"I'm not going to tell you. I don't want anyone to come in- in the middle of it. I'm just telling you so you won't miss me, and because, well," he looked at each of them seriously, "I might not come back."
Hermione gasped, Ron's jaw dropped, and Katherine looked down quickly.
Hermione was the first to speak.
"But, Harry, you can't, I mean, what if Voldemort gets you?"
"I'm going to Voldemort, Hermione," Harry said harshly. "And he knows I'm coming."
"What?" yelled Ron. "Blimey, mate! You're going to get yourself killed!"
"I'll kill Voldemort before that happens, Ron," said Harry quietly.
Hermione sniffed.
"Harry, let us come, let us help you," she pleaded.
Harry shook his head in denial.
"No," he said firmly. "None of you are going to get hurt. I'm only telling you this because, no matter what happened, you three were the only true friends I ever had, and that meant something to me," he said quietly.
Katherine finally spoke.
"Thankyou, Harry."
"What for?" Harry asked, somewhat confused.
Katherine shrugged.
"You befriended me, even though I was a Slytherin, and even after you knew-" she glanced at Ron and Hermione swiftly, "who my father was. And that meant everything to me."
Ron and Hermione looked at her curiously, but Harry gave her a small smile.
"I won't forget," he said quietly, "what you three have given me."
oOoOo
Harry silently placed the last package neatly on top of the others in his trunk. The stack of letters fitted nicely by their side. He slowly closed the lid on his possessions, the ones that would tell the world who he really was. He went to the window and looked down at the grass sloping away to the lake. The sun was setting, and beautiful colours streaked across the sky.
It was so innocent, so obviously natural and breath-taking, and Harry wished that this could be the last thing he ever saw. The only sound in the room was his quiet breathing. He was calm, now. He would not panic. He would ignore the repressed feelings of unfairness and anger and hate that threatened to overtake him, for he didn't know if they were his or Voldemort's.
How can you be sure of your actions when you are not sure of yourself?
Well, that was a question Harry did not know the answer to, but he knew that his actions tonight would be black and white, absolutely clear cut and with a definite reason. This gave him some small comfort.
Turning, he left the dormitory for the last time and made his way down to the Great Hall, using the most unused routes. He did not wish to be seen.
Voldemort had stepped up his attacks to a furious level over the last few days. He did not like the glares he received in the corridors, as though it were his fault Voldemort was killing innocent families, sometimes families of Hogwarts students.
Eyes glued to the floor, he made his way to the Gryffindor table, taking a seat closest to the door. Ron and Hermione sat far away, looking at him in worry.
He ate quickly, not looking up from what he was doing, and when he was finished he went straight outside. The stars glittered brightly above him as he walked slowly around the lake. One by one, lights blinked out in the castle, and he glanced at his watch. It would be time, soon. He reached the point of the lake nearest the Hogwarts gates, and clapped his hand to his forehead when pain shot through his scar. He cursed softly under his breath and sat down on a rock.
Minutes later, he heard footsteps hurrying towards him and again glanced at his watch. He would leave soon.
He looked up as the footsteps approached him, and saw Snape. Just as Snape passed him, he spoke.
"He called you, didn't he?" Harry said, understanding what the pain in his scar had been. But why was he going, when Voldemort knew of his betrayal? Harry felt suddenly angry, but then realised that somehow the Order must have found out about his plans, probably from Ron and Hermione. Snape did not have his Death Eater mask.
Snape stopped suddenly, searching for him in the darkness.
"Potter!" he spat. "What are you doing out here?"
Harry smiled into the dark night.
"Same as you. Waiting to go to the Dark Lord."
"What?" asked Snape, going still, a dangerous note in his smooth voice.
"He called you tonight, so you could witness my downfall. Or his, whichever way you look at it."
"Do not be foolish, Potter!"
"I arranged it, alright, Snape. I told him I would be there. I want it to end, and I want it done tonight."
"You would risk the fate of the rest of the world for your own foolish desires, Potter?" Snape hissed.
Harry rose and stepped where Snape could see him, and the man was shocked at the determination he could see in the boy's eyes.
"How many times must I tell you? I assure you, Voldemort will die by my hand, tonight. I know the risk, more so than you, and I do not do this lightly. Now though, I suggest you go. Tell the rest of the Order that there is no need for them to see this tonight. I do not wish them to."
With these words, Harry turned and stepped into the darkness once more. Snape spun on his heel and passed through the gates, watched silently before he disappeared.
Harry, taking a final glance at his watch, grasped the pendant, and he, too, vanished.
oOoOo
The graveyard was a silent as the last time he had been here. Looking around, he pulled the pendant from around his neck and held it in his palm. He smiled sadly, regretfully, watching the jewelled eyes glittering in the moonlight, before he pulled out his wand and banished it back to Hogwarts.
Some things in life, Harry thought, are certain from the moment you hear of them, and you know, deep down, what your fate will be.
He had known his destiny, and that was to fight Voldemort. That had always been clear.
His fate however, could have come about in two ways. The end result though, was that he would live, or die.
And he knew which it would be.
The thought filled him with peace, a strange sense of happiness, allowed him to face this moment without worry. He knew that everything would be alright- one way or the other, he would be released from this horror. After all that had happened to him, he was surprised to feel this way about where he would be at the end of this night.
All around him, the air filled with popping noises, and Death Eaters closed a circle around him. He stood still, unmoving, waiting for the person he most wanted to see.
"So you came, after all…" Voldemort's voice slipped over the air behind Harry.
Harry spun around.
"Let's get this over with," he said quietly.
Voldemort laughed; a loud, cold laugh that sent shivers down the spines of the Death Eaters.
"So eager to die, Harry?" Voldemort mocked.
But Harry was not listening. Muttering a spell, a shield sprang up around him and Voldemort, and Voldemort stopped laughing. Harry saw his eyes widen in surprise when he heard Harry's spell. The Death Eaters were moving restlessly.
"Surprised?" Harry smirked. "I bet, in all that time you spent in the chamber, you never found the secret entrance, the one to the real chamber. I would bet anything that you never saw the secrets it contained, the secrets it was named for. Does it bother you that it is I who found the way to harness the power of the snakes? A filthy mud-blood, just like you."
Voldemort sneered in anger.
"You will learn to pay respect to your elders, Potter. I am no mud-blood."
"Yeah, well, then neither am I."
Harry raised his wand as Voldemort raised his.
Voldemort smirked, repeating the words he had uttered in this very graveyard nearly two years ago.
"And now, Harry, we duel."
But Harry was not going to duel. One spell, that was all it would take.
It was an old spell, one he had found scrawled untidily on a rotting piece of parchment, and tucked between the pages of one of the books he had been reading. It was a spell that destroyed the soul. Even if Voldemort had not kept all of his soul in his own body, this spell would be effective. Voldemort's soul would be ripped from wherever it resided, and cast forever into darkness.
Harry dodged Voldemort's first curse and hissed the spell in Parselmouth.
Someone yelled from beyond the shield.
"Harry, no!"
He saw Voldemort's eyes widen in shock a split second before the spell hit him, and Harry felt triumph explode in his chest. He thought to himself how easy it had been, before his skull erupted in pain.
Dimly he realised that chaos had erupted outside the shield, which flickered as he fell to his knees. He thought he saw a flash of bright pink hair, and another of long silver, before fell forward onto his hands. It was pain beyond any he had ever felt.
Voldemort stood, suspended inches above the ground, only his eyes betraying the agony he was in. They were human again, and rolled around in painful circles. But Harry could not look at him any longer. He felt as though he were being ripped in two.
It happened quickly, which was the least anyone could have wished. Voldemort crumpled to the ground, all life gone from him, a second before Harry.
Harry thought that finally, finally it was all over and rolled over to stare at the heavens.
And Harry Potter died, as he had known he would, in pain, and alone.
The End
oOoOo
A/N: I absolutely loved writing the last part of this chapter. It's been in my head for so long I was glad to finally get it out. I could have probably made this chapter into two, but I admit I just wanted to finish. I hope you enjoyed it!
Chapter 15: Epilogue