14. Idane's Death
On the following day, Albus Dumbledore let Harry know that he would find the time to see him after dinner.
"Good evening to you, Harry, and welcome. Tea's set for you by your customary chair. Do sit down, dear boy. I am afraid that tonight will not be all that agreeable as we shall have to deal with Idane's violent death. Our previous talks were rather a pleasant pastime by comparion..."
So it would be tonight, then. Harry braced himself.
"Are you ready, my dear young man?"
To that, Harry slowly nodded.
"Let me continue with Idane G.'s sad story, then. I'll plunge right in. What I am going to tell you today is not beautiful or lovely, Harry, so try and brace yourself. Please tell me when you've had enough. You may also have some Dreamless Sleep for tonight as you leave.
"These are no easy memories to recapitulate for me either, so my telling might be slow going. I do want to get it over with, though."
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"You remember what I told you so far about Idane, and what you saw. I think. Any questions?"
Harry shook his head.
"Well. It took the Death Eaters almost a year but eventually, someone of Voldemort's lot did notice that Severus Snape was ever to be found where the giant offspring was. It seems that the Dark Lord got wind somehow, and became suspicious, or wary at least, by rumours spreading of them having a relationship quite beyond mere works of Art.
"This all happened quite some time before Severus came to Hogwarts for good to teach. One evening when Severus Snape was away from the London apartment he and Idane shared – a rather nice place, also one of the gateways, half set in the wizard's world and half in that of the Muggles with a direct access to Diagon Alley, and owned, in different shapes, by the Soniverirus family for centuries –, the Dark Lord sent four of his most trusted followers in.
"Not Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle, obviously – else their sons would have another kind of live at school than they do now, believe me. Severus would be more pained, more bitter still, too, and more troubled than he already is to support his own house of Slytherin... Luckily, none of those involved has had any children. I would not have been able to refuse them admission to Hogwarts."
Harry wondered. He had never had the impression that Snape had any trouble in gathering points for his house and its members, or crediting anything to the Slytherin's advantage, if by ignoring their misdeeds or mistakes, and often by going quite beyond what was decent, fair, or acceptable in their favour...
Right now though, he thought a discussion of the matter inappropriate, however necessary, and amazed himself by wanting to know indeed what could have occurred to Snape and his woman that, in any known world, could make the man an object of his pity in such a way that the Headmaster had felt a need to warn him of it by saying that the events to be told were as bad as what had happened to Neville's parents. Harry could not imagine what incidents could change someone almost beyond recognition, like Snape had been judging by what he'd seen in the Pensieve.
The old wizard sighed. It was obvious that his memories weighed on him.
"Well, then. In short, these four broke and entered, taking Idane by surprise. They tortured her by spell and by more physical methods. This did include the Cruciatus, I believe, but there are less well-known and, as of yet, completely legal curses, and potions not outlawed, that are just as terrible."
Harry blinked slowly.
"But – how can that be, sir? The three, no, four, worst things are covered by the Unforgivables – total control, absolute and inescapable torture, sudden irrevocable death; I myself would want to count what the Dementors do in there, too! What else could there be, and be allowed?"
"Very good, very good, well perceived once more, Harry. Let me explain."
"Obviously, the Avada Kedavra can't be modified. It kills, and that is it. We may put it aside for now.
"You see, for one thing, the Cruciatus and the Imperius curses are Unforgivables and, hence, reasons for a removal or breaking of the wand, and the banishing from our world or, ever since that unfortunate alliance with the Dementors was struck up, for being sent to Azkaban. Such dangers will, of course, prevent many a wizard who would love to serve the Dark Lord in every manner and way, as long as it's legal somehow, and in secrecy, from using them and, hence, being of value to Voldemort's aims. Also, all of these need the intention to damage, as you do know.
"On the other hand, it seems Lord Voldemort has found that a less – hm – summary approach to fundamental pain will often be more effective – less damaging to the victim who will not be able to convey any knowledge he holds if completely demented by the torture. Also, pain would be more of a threat if applied step by step – and more fun, of course, for those creatures that do enjoy inflicting it. Some of the still-legal Dark spells, Riddle invented himself, and most of the potions, Professor Snape developed… They are not widely known nor used, which is the main reason that they have not been abolished by the Ministry of Magic yet. They can't possibly abolish things that they have no data on, see?
"Riddle wanted those modified instruments, too, because they do not need any intention behind them, and are merely a technical means to achieve an end. Veritaserum is a good example here. It is not illegal, only restricted, even though it can burn out those it is used on. The main difference is that it is a tool that does need not need any intention behind its use but the physical ability to put it to work. Those in fear of openly joining Lord Voldemort mostly lack the will to torment and kill, too, but even those who are averse to him could thus be forced to become partners in crime by having to apply perfectly legal means in a damaging way."
Harry shuddered at the images that gave him.
Dumbledore inhaled deeply, apparently to steel himself for what was to come.
"So, as I said, Voldemort sent in Sirius's Cousin Bellatrix, her husband-to-be Rodolphus Lestrange, and one Abernathy, who is now dead, with the order to torture and slowly kill Idane G., and to gather any information that was there to be got by that. The main aim was her destruction, as a warning to Severus Snape – the Dark Lord did not perceive Idane to be very useful or knowledgeable, it seems. Your Professor had withheld his source of information, to protect his love.
"The fourth of Idane's tormentors was a slender man who kept his hood up all the time. He was the only one who wore a mask. He did not speak, but did whisper his spells – that was the younger Crouch, as we know now. He was one for torture, as you might be able to imagine after what he has done to his mother and father.
"Severus Snape, who knew nothing about Crouch jr. being a Death Eater, just like everyone else, suspected someone else at that time. I'll come to that later," the Headmaster said with a sigh.
"Lord Voldemort, besides getting rid of a symbol of hope and bliss for Muggles and wizards alike, wanted to make sure that Severus Snape was not trying to leave or double-cross him, and end the slack in his service to the Dark Cause. They found no signs of any actual disloyalty on Snape's part, not that that would have changed their actions; but they did find something else – something which they felt to be even worse than treason, and to be a very bad kind of betrayal of their master's aims..."
"This is sick!" Harry interrupted, remembering the bliss the image of Idane alone had brought him.
The Headmaster sighed once more.
"Is it indeed, Harry? There is worse to come. And it is not easy to tell, believe me..."
Dumbledore spoke faster after this interruption, as if to get things over with, and abbreviate the pain of reliving his memories.
"Are you sure can stand to hear this, my boy? In any case, I will not show you your Professor's memories of what he saw in the Pensieve. You shall see a motionless image of the place cleared out though, like a Muggle photograph, and with the four perpetrators. I won't let you see her body, or what they have done to Idane."
Harry nodded his assent, tense, but still decided. Now that he had made his mind up to follow through the course that the Headmaster suggested, and to take up Occlumency again, he had to find out what the Potions master's secret was if he was ever to trust Snape, and to work with him. He had to learn to shield himself, and by that, his friends. Also, there seemed to be a connection in all this to his father and Sirius, and he wanted to know as much as possible of that too, of course.
Dumbledore motioned him to come over to the Pensieve. He drew a strain of silver from his temple, put it onto the surface carefully, and said: "You'd better be careful not to touch te liquid at all this time."
Harry bent over the chalice, and saw a very nice, airy room strewn with bright carpets, a part of which was blotted out as if by fog. There were suggestive red spots around… Four people in Death Eater garb were grouped around that area, appearing to approach it with wands and hands, and one of them was completely covered by his robe. He recognised one of the others as Bellatrix Black.
Harry tried to look around in that room, careful not to touch the surface of the Pensieve, and found that the picture was slightly three-dimensional. In the corners, he saw furniture, bookshelves; there was a big, ancient fireplace, and a table with some chairs not too far from where the people were grouped. Nothing moved. Everything looked quite common and alright, if unusual for a Muggle photograph.
When he found nothing more to behold, he looked up at Dumbledore, who did not meet his eyes.
"Have you seen enough, Harry?"
"Yes sir, thank you." Harry withdrew to his seat, and slumped down.
What had he gotten himself into? If he'd never looked into Snape's Pensieve, would he be here now?
The old Headmaster cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
"Listen, then. Giants are tough, wilful and strong... I told you that it is difficult to hurt a giant. Being their offspring, Idane was, like them, not very susceptible to pain, less so than the average Muggle by far. This, to the Death Eater gang, was of course a major challenge to their abilities as tormentors and henchmen. Idane was not stupid, though, and seems to have faked pain successfully. She had also learned enough about numbing spells during her work with Severus to endure all the Death Eaters did to her – to remain alive until Severus'd come back from his business. She died in his arms. Yet we are not sure if that was not what they had intended... In fact, I believe it suited the Dark Lord very much."
Dumbledore had rested his head on one hand, his expression indescribably sad, and his long forefinger touched the silvery surface of the Pensieve very lightly. It became iridescent by the movement. He closed his eyes in concentration.
"These were her words to him, her last wish."
A very different voice spoke to Harry now from the old wizard's mouth, coloured brilliantly red by pain, and terminal midnight blue with the will to come through; it held all the doom of a terrific sunset bestowed on it by impending irrevocable death, and yet was beautiful as Phoenix song.
"My love – do not avenge me blindly, and do not submit blindly! Watch out in whatever you do from now on. Riddle will want to see whether you are still true to him, now that his serfs destroyed your 'little play-tool'. If you wish to have revenge on them, do turn away from Voldemort, but not to his face. He would just kill you, one more useless death! Severus, my one and only love – do become a weapon of his opponents! Do deny me in front of your Lord and the Death Eaters in any way that is demanded, in any way necessary! Shelter your mind – and let any word of lie and contempt that you have to speak about me become a spell of power to Voldemort's downfall, but do speak it if you must! Do go see Dumbledore, go to him, trust him. And please hide my body, do not allow this mutilated ruin to be displayed – let not be known what has happened to me. It will take the sting out of his plan, and there's good reason not to let this deed become known, even against his orders! Please let not the world see this corpse, drained of the bliss it held! Try, my one love, not to become bitter..."
Harry could not look up. He felt tears run down his cheeks.
"She never doubted him for a second… Do you see how brave she was?"
The Headmaster sounded a bit short-winded, but spoke with his normal voice again, for which Harry was grateful.
"Well worthy of a man like Snape!"
At that, Harry did rise his head. He felt betrayed; all his good mood of the day was gone.
This was too much, just like Dumbledore had feared.
"What, not become bitter? Worthy of him! A man like Snape? Brave! He did not even call an ambulance – or the mediwizards, I bet!"
"Harry, did you not listen? I believe you will understand soon."
Dumbledore picked up his story as if nothing had been said.
"One could possibly say that Idane made Severus brave - and worthy of her, rather. He tried to do her bidding, too – but did indeed become bitter, I'm afraid... Stuck to her plea in any other respect, though.
"When Professor Snape came home that night, he found Idane on the floor in front of the fireplace, broken and cut and almost bled to death. He did successfully quell her many bleeding wounds by spells, but there was no potion, no spell, no Art that that could save her now, he could see that right away. He told me he'd pretty much known from the moment he saw her lie there that she was not to live.
"I.. I have the memories of your Professor's right here in the Pensieve, in case you wish to see for yourself."
Dumbledore had not meant to offer this. The images were too much for a man to behold – what would they do to a boy?
Mutely, Harry shook his head, eyes downcast still. He was unwilling to believe that Snape had done all he could, but he would listen to what the Headmaster had to say. There was no way though that he'd add those images of pain to the ones he already had to cope with.
Faintly relieved, Dumbledore continued.
"Idane knew that, herself... She told Severus not to bother with the mediwizards, as it was no use and she would die soon. When she had gotten him off his attempts of rescuing her, and he eased her pains as far as he could, she spoke the words I repeated to you.
"Idane must have repeated those words to herself over and over again, lying there dying, memorising them like a spell, a curse. I am sure, too, that those were her exact words; they are burned into your Potions Professor's mind as is her picture... As is the Dark Mark into the flesh of his arm...
"When she had done the one thing that she had held out to do, to speak to him, her love, she let go of life, and went unconscious.
"That giant's grandchild's body had been crushed as if dropped from a great height. The contortions induced by the Cruciatus curse, and what other terrible abuse we will never know, had bent her long slender limbs beyond recovery, boneless, snakelike...
"Severus Snape did whatever he could to restore her anyway – but Bellatrix Lestrange, then still Bellatrix Black, had, when cutting open Idane's body, deliberately destroyed her intestines, sliced her liver and her underbelly, and parts of the organs seemed to be missing. Higher powers than witchcraft, or even very high-class magical surgery, would have to have been employed, and on the spot at that, for those wounds not to kill her. Idane, the giant child, would have been a pained cripple for the rest of her life.
"Even the use of the Philosopher's Stone would have come too late by then. Its precious magic cannot repair what is not there anymore. Severus Snape did not ever think it to be within his reach anyway. I had no access to it then, and could not have brought it there in time, even if it had been with me... Even had been close enough for him to contact me right away… Believe me, Harry, I would, had I but known or been able to…"
Harry looked up that the old wizard who had buried his face in his hands. Albus Dumbedore was staring at the Pensieve unseeing, and seemed to be riddled with some kind of guilt that Harry would never have thought any grown-up to need to feel.
Dumbledore spoke again, his voice very low: "This always gives me an absurd feeling of failure whenever I think about it, like an unforgivable mistake one has made. I cannot help it.
"You may gauge by that how much I felt for her, and how much she gave to everyone."
The Headmaster cleared his throat.
"The Death Eaters burned her wonderful dark golden hair from her head, and the skin was almost gone from her skull, as well as from other parts of her body. Severus healed many of those wounds, and used any spell he could think of to mend her bones and ease her pain.
"As for the mediwizards – Snape had no means to call them, or anyone else. Idane's murderers had sealed off the room to magic, to make sure that she was dead before help of any kind could be obtained. With Idane unconscious and dying in his arms, Severus did try to light a fire to floo-call St.Mungo's. Her tormentors seemed to have taken most of the floopowder. But that didn't matter: they had hexed the fireplace, and instead of a fire starting to burn, glowing balls shot at them for minutes in a row – like howlers, laughing and jeering, screaming things like 'mudblood lover' and 'slimeblood', nasty, cheap, childish things.
"Severus could not think of any other way to get help.
"The noise of the things woke Idane from her almost-terminal unconsciousness, and she pleaded with him again not to bother, but to listen to her instead.
"She would not let Snape leave to get some of his potions for her either, not that there were a lot about – she knew she did not have much time left. He had to stop trying to heal her. Idane wanted him to be close during her last minutes, to show him what had happened, and who had done it.
"The images Severus let me see in the Pensieve... Harry, they are the worst and most ugly scenes I have ever seen, more horrible than one can picture, trust me. Imagine coming home and find your beloved like that... mutilated and dying..."
Harry looked up, feeling sick to his soul, much like he was contracting a fever. Fawkes flew over from his perch, singing softly, in an attempt to soothe him. Dumbledore held the boy's eyes for a moment, regardless of the risk, sadness and old pain in his own and, when Harry dropped his head on his arms again, said in an odd voice:
"And they should have thought of cutting out her tongue and eyes out while they were at it... He's never going really all the way... There's a lack of finality, of consequence, in Tom Riddle and hence, in his followers... Our great hope…"
On hearing this, Harry sat up straight with surprise. He shuddered a little and looked at Dumbledore very, very watchful. The cruel words had been given in an unfamiliar, hard, and icy tone, but the old wizard was not looking at him. He sat in his chair just like he had before, if more relaxed now, and Harry thought he looked frail.
After some moments, the Headmaster continued with the story, every now and then stirring the shining grey mist in Pensieve with his wand and watching closely, to make sure that he forgot nothing of what he still had to tell.
"Do let me go on, let me get over with this dreadful story.
"Idane managed a few more words: "My beloved - pregnant by you... They took the child… dead... called it a changeling... They will know... was yours... My beloved... Severus... can you... bear it?
"Snape had nodded, unsure if he had heard her right, and knowing he was lying.
"... Cannot hold out ... much longer... no words... my eyes... The images...! Severus… only love…"
Harry was grateful that he Headmaster refrained from using her voice again. The manner he said those things in was uncannily realistic anyway.
"Then Idane could not talk anymore. Professor Snape had not been sure of her pregnancy but very much hoped for it, he told me later. A child, an heir to the Soniverirus, had been his heartfelt wish, and he had himself seen to the right time for conception, to all the signs and stars, as was the tradition in his family, and planned it all – so this came as an additional blow that almost did him in.
"But Severus managed to do as she bid him. He kissed her destroyed face tenderly, locked eyes with her, and made contact with her mind. By that, I am sure, he had to share a lot of what she'd had to suffer. In her eyes, he saw all that had happened, everything his fellow Death Eaters had said and done to his beloved – all the things that are now in here, and probably more. He committed his memory to the Pensieve for anyone who can get their hands on it and care to watch, unable to bear the images alone. He has not forgotten a single bit of what happened.
"In the eyes of his dying love, he saw what she had taken in of the words and actions of her tormentors while she had hidden her mind from them, and concentrated on slowing down the drain of blood as much as possible, easing her pain by the few numbing spells against burns and cuts he had taught her, and that she had bothered to learn for her work. The knowledge had come in handy more than once at events, with minor accidents when things went off wrong or something fell on someone. No-one could have conceived of the use she would have for them in the end.
"Professor Snape saw the Death Eaters baiting Idane, making fun of her „truly gigantic" naiveté and stupidity, by it proclaiming their knowledge of her ancestry. Only Voldemort knew for sure; Severus had told his master himself. The tormentors jested about Idane's trust in the love of a Death Eater, but particularly about her ridiculous consent to assist Severus in the development and testing of some potions, most of which had different kinds of hypnotic effects. They told her how stupid she had been to believe that Snape had created them for her benefit, to enhance her Art for visitors who would take them, saying that they were meant to further and make easier mind control for the Death Eaters...
"Idane did not react to any of that, to her torturers' disappointment. In her memories, Severus could feel the heavy sedation in her mind from a Morpheorelief spell that she had used on herself, and blessed himself to have made her learn it. This could have meant that some of the memories of hers he saw were hallucinations or misapprehensions, but he was sure they weren't, no matter how much he wished that they were.
"Some of her impressions, however, were blurred – not only by the side-effects of the spells and hexes used on her, but also by her hatred for her tormentors – his fellow Death Eaters –, and by the pain induced by them which was felt even by someone of giant descent under the influence of a powerful numbing spell. The Death Eaters put all their torturing skill to work on her…
"They had then told her that Snape had only borne her around in order to better be able to spy for Voldemort, to get access to Muggle officials and Ministry of Magic information and to all the news that ware spoken around her so carelessly. Otherwise, a Soniverirus would never stand the presence of a mud-cum-stone-blood for just hours, not to mention days or months!
That gang obviously believed this, their own inferences, to be the truth – Idane managed to show Severus that she had not been able to sense any doubt of that in them –, and seemed to be impressed by his powers over her. There had been no attempts at interrogation to find out more about Snape's intentions, or faith in their aims.
"Even through her daze of pain and spell, and his own burning rage, Snape had felt her hurt at this realisation, more than at anything else. That had not been because Idane doubted Severus's love of her even for a second, but because they were so sure of what they said, and absolutely believed it to be the truth. They never felt a shadow of doubt in Severus's loyalty to his lord, even after Idane's passionate claims to his love. That had only made them laugh. They had merely sneered at it. Her trust in Severus and her love for him were not touched at all by what happened, even now that his 'friends' cut her up and made to kill her.
"Severus Snape later on realised that the strength of his fellow Death Eater's conviction of his having acted always as their lord's faithful servant did not originate in their knowledge of his extraction, and adherence to the Dark Lord alone, but mainly in the complete absence of love from their own lives. They had always known him to hate Muggles and mixed-bloods.
"None of them could begin to imagine anything even remotely resembling love or compassion, neither with their own kind, just as they had no real concept of kindness, common good, or sympathy – none of which Severus Snape himself had cared about or believed to exist or, if they did, to matter in any way – until he met Idane. Those were things he had never considered to be lacking in his life before he came to love her.
"Snape had mocked such weaknesses just like they had, and together with them – and now, already, while she was receding, leaving him alone again, he started to feel the terrible pain of loss. You know yourself, Harry, that that is a kind of pain that can make one wish to never have loved or cared to start with. It can make one want to not live at all and be an insensate thing, a stone perhaps.
Dumbledore paused.
"Kissing Idane's face, feeling her mangled body getting colder in his arms, Severus thought, over and again, that it probably was better and wiser not to have a notion of such pain, and be an unloving, unfeeling, heartless moron. He desperately wanted to be able to go back to that, to be what he'd been before her, but knew he never would.
"Snape knew that, even by his own standards, he had become weak and Muggle-like: feeling pity and love was inferiority, and meant defeat and death. He breathed heavily by then (you can see the picture heave with that even in the Pensieve), trying hard not to break the legilmental contact with Idane, or to cry or throw up over her, or to let go of the last he would ever have of love.
"In her eyes, he clearly saw and identified three of the Death Eaters who had committed this murder. He saw how they questioned her, torturing her all the time to answer, wanting to know if he loved her, and if she really believed that he did. He saw what they had done and how they had done it. The mocked her: What had it been like with him? She had spit at them at that, and she had fought hard not to moan or shown them pain so that they might enjoy tormenting her less.
"The Death Eaters tried, again and again, to bait her and distract her. Crushing her body, they attempted to make her drop the pain-relieving spells that they noticed her use – or, at least, stop her from covering herself with them entirely. They did succeed eventually…
"Bellatrix Black was depraved with words and hands, while the unknown hooded male figure was a silent terror with the wand and with spells, merely needing to whisper to cause screaming pain. He did not hesitate to use Battle Magic on her! This man also did not consider it below him to use Muggle methods like kicking and beating whenever they seemed to fit in. He and Bellatrix made the other two join in actively every now and then, but neither of them seemed to be too keen on the action, although they did occasionally make helpful suggestions, which were greeted by the others, and immediately realised. That terrible twosome seemed to be so eager on what they did that they did not really mind the others' abstinence."
Albus Dumbledore looked at Harry who seemed to be crushed by all this. Was this really necessary? The boy needed to know why Severus had become what he was, what pain made of men. Harry needed to understand what might lay in store for him by inference and, too, that it was not him alone who was suffering and had lost his beloved…
"Harry, you must brace yourself. There is worse to come still…"
Harry swallowed hard to stop his tears, but did not say a word.
"You heard that Idane was pregnant. She was in about the fourth month, and had not known this herself for more than a couple of days when the attack took place. She was looking forward to tell her beloved upon his return, I should imagine.
"Voldemort's favourite four tormentors found out when they cut into her. The Black woman had cut open Idane's womb slowly, and at random, taking her time with it. She discovered the pregnancy, and they jeered. The Death Eaters tore the life that-was-to-be from Idane's womb and dangled the tiny body, dripping blood, before her eyes.
"That embryo was Severus's mudblood child, a changeling to them; a being whose existence could not be tolerated by any Death Eater; something Voldemort was not going to have from any of his followers, and would indeed consider betrayal of the blood."
Dumbledore again looked at Harry, who had let his head drop onto his arms. There was no use stopping at this point. The Headmaster could only hope that it would help Harry to release his own feelings of guilt. He stirred the Pensieve wearily and went on.
"The memory blurs here, as you might imagine... But one still can hear their voices. The torturer were jeering and jesting, making fun of what they did. They loved what they did, Harry.
"They said things like: 'But to think that he really did... Yuck! How very disgusting to imagine that! Tasteless! Unappetizing!' Bellatrix Black said: 'I wonder if I'll ever get rid of the image again! To think I even went out with Severus once! I would not have considered him to be capable of going to such ends for our most revered master, weak boy that he was...'
"The hooded man had said in his toneless manner: 'Really, I do prefer believe our dear Snivellus would have taken care of this – being, this – monster, to vanish in time! Look at it, I ask you! To think it would look like him, one day… One could almost pity it, but we've taken care of that by taking it down, haven't we? Maybe there would be use for it in some potion… We must ask him when he… Dear, dear, I hope that we didn't spoil some very important experiment of his, tsk-tsk-tsk…'
"They laughed like madmen to that.
"Most of the Death Eaters never liked Severus Snape, and envied his standing with the Dark Lord, which was mainly owed to his Potions knowledge.
"Bellatrix chimed in. 'Yuck! This really is very much the mother! But look, there's more...'
"There was more laughter. Her pictures ceased at this point. She must have fainted finally, this had gone on for hours.
"There was a final flash of memory from her, now transmitting only sounds.
"The Death Eaters had gone on: 'Oh, that repelling Muggle blood everywhere. Mudblood, literally.'
"'Do you think, o giant halfling, that your smeary stone-blood – if that is what it is? – is safe to step on so one wouldn't slip?'
"'I hope not,' she had groaned.
"Another bout of laughter had come from the Death Eaters at that.
"Here, her memory flow stops entirely. Idane was silently dying in your Professor's arms.
"Thus, their last minutes – which were Severus's last minutes as well, in more than one respect, to be sure – did not give rise to a song of bliss about all the good and beautiful times they'd had together, but to pictures of atrocities.
"Severus never knew when he'd started to cry. Too appalling was what he had to witness and to share in this manner. He held Idane as close as he could, and she did not complain.
"Later on, he never thought of this as mourning or self-pity, but as a cleansing of the abhorrent things he had once sworn allegiance and committed himself to.
"He confessed his love to Idane, and she whispered faintly, at his cheast: '…know, my beloved... Muggle-hater...'
"This, Idane had called him teasingly sometimes when Severus Snape could not hold back his contempt for Muggle slowness, or stupidity. Had Severus not cried already, this would have done it.
"'Had to end so... too good...'
"And, pulling herself together for a final time, Idane said, in a very clear voice: 'You did not miss one drop of this precious chalice – make good use of their conceit! I will leave... leave now for the lands of snow... the Old Ones... you my eternal love...'
"By the Pensieve, I may witness if I must what Severus saw when she did die: how in her eyes, pale icy green and shining, then were fleeting images of the good times they had had; how these memories became, beautifully and with terrible finality, translucent, and vanished into nowhere. The picture then blurs, as you might imagine.
"This was his own final torment..."
Harry and the Headmaster sat in silence for a long time. The office was quiet, no painting shuffled, and Fawkes's tiny sounds comforted both of them, if only a little bit.
Harry wiped his eyes. He had nothing to say. This was worse than anything he could have imagined, and he was sure that such events would kill the light off in anyone's life. Snape had gone through things that were worse by far than what he had seen… or were they? Could suffering be compared?
Eventually, Dumbledore spoke up again.
"Snape suspected that very night that he was to see the embryo eventually – his child... Idane needed not tell him that her torturers had taken it with them to Voldemort as a present, and proof of success of their mission. She did not know that they had, but Severus would have been sure of it even if it hadn't been obvious.
"Your Professor does not bother to call life what since then is left to him.
"The babies' death was as important as that of Idane in the testing of Severus Snape. By it, he learned – he suffered himself, the hard way, what real Evil is and means, what those people he had allied himself to really were, and what the things felt like that he himself had done to others, or allowed to happen to them."
-------------
After a while, Harry spoke up. What was on his mind was irrelevant, but he needed some distraction.
"What did she mean by chalice – their life? Or their love?"
Harry just had to say something. The silence was becoming unbearable, but neither could he face the pictures conjured up in his own mind by the Headmaster's words, worsened by the fact that there were pictures of the events there indeed. He was grateful that Dumbledore had not forced him to watch those things in full for himself by getting into the Pensieve this time, though he might well have done otherwise to teach him, and swore that he'd be much more careful with that thing if he ever came across it again.
His accursed curiosity!
That was part of the lesson, he guessed.
The Headmaster regarded him gravely, as if knowing that Harry just had to ask something marginal to distract himself, but wanting to answer that seriously anyway.
"Both, maybe – but I am not sure. Some bits of what she said when she finally died were very giant-like, not at all easy to understand – I think that what she had to go through, and her will to bear it, brought her much closer to that ancient side in her. Muggles would not easily have stood up to what she did for such a time without giving way to insanity, don't you think?"
Harry nodded.
They both did not speak again for quite some time, lost in their respective thoughts.
Eventually, Harry tried again, feeling nervous and helpless: "But the Skele-Grow...?"
"You remember how very painful it was to grow back the bones in your arm, how hard to be borne, don't you? And you were not seriously injured otherwise, and in general good health then! It is very sweet of you, my boy, to think of things in such a manner. It also shows me that this... report has – well, hit home, but believe me: nothing was to be done in this case," Dumbledore rebutted him mildly.
Harry nodded, feeling very stupid and out-of-place.
Dumbledore took pity on him, not wanting him to bear the weight of such a story and feel like an ass at the same time.
"See, Harry, it is really good of you to care. But Professor Snape would be a great healer, not only for his Potions knowledge, if he'd just bother. Thinking about that might give you another view of him… Yet in this case, any amount of care would have been to no avail – it seems, as I said, that Idane's murderers took parts of her intestines away, not only the child, when they mutilated her, as a proof to their Lord, or just to make sure she wouldn't live. Most of her bones were crushed so badly that they would have to be liquefied first (like your arm was by Gilderoy's ineptitude), and be healed only after, much in the same way as yours were. She would not have been able to endure this, considering her state, even with a giant's general insensitivity to pain. Bones are at the core of their very beings, much more than they are with us, and her tormentors knew that.
"Also, that stuff is not safe to use during pregnancy. All kinds of ugly and dangerous bone developments could happen to the child – which of course would not have mattered anymore just then. However, Professor Snape did not have any at home anyway, and it is not made just like that. You won't really find it outside hospitals. The application needs experienced and permanent surveillance.
"There was no way to call the hospital, remember, not that it would have made a difference either. As I said, there are states of physical and mental destruction that even all our magical knowledge and healing powers cannot bring a person back from – as you do know, right?"
Harry could cry no more. He remembered wandering off in St.Mungo's, seeing Neville's parents, and his former Defence against the Dark Arts Professor. He remembered holding Cedric's limp body, and nodded again, feeling exhausted and empty now, but no longer like an idiot. Though... but he could not have known, could he?
Dumbledore waited for Harry to settle down again.
"This, of course, the Death Eaters knew – know – just as well. They are expert torturers and destroyers. They hated Idane for her radiance, for the beauty and the bliss she brought to Muggles and wizards alike. They destroyed her so that she would be able to withstand death just long enough, with what little she knew of magic, to tell the tale to their wayward fellow Death Eater. If she'd survive at all, she'd be a wreck for lifetime, not something anyone would care to look at, and a mocking of the beauty she once brought. Their intentions were easy to figure out for her, I'd imagine. Her innate powers were great, and you know yourself what wild magic can do – I believe they had timed their monstrous acts so that Severus would have to see her die. Voldemort wanted to make sure.
"This act was intended by Voldemort to test Professor Snape's loyalty, and make him suffer for banding up with mudbloods, no matter how much the Dark Lord's cause profited from his doing so.
"Idane's bravery and strength of will won though, in more than one respect – together with her, Severus Snape had became whole. He understood that there was love indeed; and that many of the things that he and his fellow Death Eaters used to ridicule did exist and have a value if their own, if they were painful; and that they had more to do with a strength to cope with the knowledge of them than with the weakness of having to feel them in the first place.
"Idane also brought to fruition those immense abilities of his that most students do not appreciate at all, not many Slytherins either, for obvious reasons. The love they had enabled him to thwart Voldemort's plans.
"This miscalculation of character was Lord Voldemort's first big mistake – listen very closely, Harry, though I might say it again, – because Severus Snape is one of the bravest and most coolly calculating, strategical men I know of. All this is the reason why I speak of him with reverence – as a friend, even.
"Professor Snape is not a kind man, or even-tempered, or patient, or just, but his decisions are definite, and his mind and abilities are excellent indeed. There's not one action he takes without consideration, but he is not considerate by any means.
"He has devoted his considerable powers to a variety of most difficult assignments that he considers to be his duties, and does not tolerate any light-hearted skipping of responsibility. You might understand better now why this is – he has seen and felt for himself the horrors such a behaviour can bring about.
"Mind you, Harry: I personally do not think that you, of all people, have ever become guilty of such mis-apprehension and neglect. You are not to be blamed any such a thing, even if Professor Snape appears to think so! Old hatred and resentments tend to get in his way. He might be a teacher, but he's only human after all. I keep telling Professor Snape that he must allow for students to have their own experiences, in order to learn for life. It is not that we entirely disagree there – it is that he cannot trust anymore. He wants his students to understand the responsibilty they bear for their actions, and by that, to act right of themselves. At the base of this is a deep wish to not have anyone suffer what he had to go through. Maybe you can believe that?"
Harry only half listened to this, though the words would surely come back to him later on. He felt very cold, and trembled slightly. Dumbledore had expected no reaction, either.
To imagine he'd have had to hold his mother in his arms, dying, and not she, him... To be allowed to hold her... At least, his parents had been together to die, in a way...? And not in such a terrible manner?
Harry had never even in passing thought of that possibility before, and had seen no such things in his visions of his mother – her cries had been for him to live, and surely she had been in a terror of pain, but of quite another kind. Yet how could he know for sure? The thought was petrifying, crushing Harry.
"Were – were my parents ...tortured, too, sir?"
The Headmaster looked at him for a moment, deeply serious, then smiled sadly.
"Oh dear, I'd thought you knew that much, at least... I am sorry… No, they were not, Harry, they were killed by a crude and cowardly direct attack, Avada Kedavra'ed on the spot – you could say they died in open battle, as far as that can be said for an assault of such a kind.
Harry blinked, but went on, somehow feeling relieved:
"So, Voldemort's second mistake, then, was my survival?"
The old wizard almost chuckled.
"Sort of, sort of... It was – and is – huge luck for our fight, Harry, that these murderers only – well, played around. No, don't make a face – those that killed you parents did, and these... monsters, here, too, did indeed merely play around, like – much like werewolves under a full moon do, or the last few Eastern Giants would. They have no idea of what they really are committing aside of finding their own amusement, which happens to be in torture and murder. In a sense, their master is a retarded, cruel child.
The Death Eaters know, too, that such acts as they commit are forbidden, against the law, and against everything society stands for. They defy the basic rules of human conduct which are usually introduced to children at an early age, and are meant to ensure the survival of the individual and the race, and the absence of precisely such actions. To them, felony is merely an extra, some nice spice, nothing more. Their victims are, in a sense, not real for them. Taking a life in a dastardly manner to them is much the same like tearing apart a picture, a page in a book: what they destroy is two-dimensional to them, and can easily be replaced. But they find the taking of a human life by torture much more exciting. The Death Eaters do not understand consequence, like they do not understand love. Furthermore, they hate Muggles mainly because they need to look down on someone. Should they occasionally not be able enjoy what they are ordered to do, they will still do it because their master orders them. They need to obey, too, because that shifts responsibilty. There was, and still is, no "for" besides their master, and what they think to be their amusement...
"Bellatrix alone had a view, I believe, that what they did was meant to be a test for Severus, but with the others, I doubt they cared at all.
"None of them, as I said, ever seriously considered Severus to truly love, a Muggle or otherwise, so they never marginally imagined – well, other kinds of treason to their cause, and did not think of making either her, or him later on, take Veritaserum. That short-sightedness is fortunate for us!"
Both Harry and Dumbledore were lost in thought. Harry was slightly taken aback at the cold sobriety of Dumbledore's views, but he thought they held water. He also felt that he was granted answers right now by the Headmaster like an adult.
"Say, my boy – it's become rather late... You should be off to bed... Do you think you can sleep after all this, or would you rather have some Dreamless Sleep, just to make sure?"
Harry looked at his Headmaster who, once more, had averted his eyes. He felt unable to decide such a trivial matter right now.
"I don't know, Professor.. I'd rather not, actually... But then, I'd prefer not to have nightmares, and what if the Dark Lord can read all that you told me?
"I do not think he can. Should he see fragments of those things in you, he will think that Snape is teaching you again, and trying to break or crush you by such imagery… In any case, you are invited to leave the memory in the Pensieve here with me. You've never done that before, have you?"
The boy shook his tousled black head wearily.
"It would allow you some distance to the whole thing, but it will also be difficult to retrieve details to tell, should you need them."
"I'd rather do neither, sir, but I think I won't ever take you up on the second offer, if you get my meaning..."
Harry suddenly changed his mind. He would take the sleeping potion with him to the dormitory, but not take it unless his nightmares got really bad.
"Actually, yes, I would appreciate to have some kind of sleeping draught, just in case..."
"Very well, then."
Dumbledore reached into his desk and pulled out a small vial with some darkish liquid.
"Eventually, you'll have to make a truce with Severus should you come to need more of this – or learn to brew it yourself, you know?"
"Would I be allowed to?"
"Of course, dear boy – no-one prevents you or anyone else to do their own brewing. All students may, in their spare time. You've probably never heard of it, because students very rarely bother. In any case, you'd need Professor Snape's permission to use the laboratory. He will tell you when there's a free workplace. You might also want some assistance with it, I should think. Miss Granger should be able to help you out."
"I see... Thank you, sir. Good night, then."
He turned to leave.
"Harry?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I understand that, even before I told you any relevant bits of his biography, you went to Professor Snape, trying to make up with him?"
Harry blushed at the memory of his initial failure. "Er… yes, sir, but he did not seem too excited about it. I don't think he cared for that, really. I did try another time, too, and I think he accepted it then, sort of... The first time I tried, I went because I felt I had to, and was completely unprepared... The other time, I invited him into my mind to see and feel my apology. I wanted to show him that I did put an effort into clearing my mind. I do think he sort of accepted what he saw, even if it was not enough by far…
Dumbledore did not tell the boy that the Professor had related both events to him in detail, appearing to be truly amazed about the second.
"Well done, son, in any case! I do trust things will work out eventually, but I mustn't and will not help you there other than by telling you Professor Snape's story. The rest is between you and him. Good night now, Harry."
This was a definite dismissal. Harry did not move right away, though, but stared at the Headmaster's slender, aged hands on the desk before him. He wouldn't tell the Dumbledore that he was seriously attempting to make good with Snape, and set to learn the Mencies – let him wonder. This might be silly or even dangerous, but the old man had done just that thing once too often, manipulating him to have things done his way. Harry was tired of being played. Dumbledore was likely to know already, anyway…
Harry's mind was set on apologizing to Snape now, in a way that the dour man would have to accept, and on taking up Occlumency, just like Dumbledore had foreseen. Whether he'd really have to fight side by side with the Potions master, only time would tell. He could admit by now, to himself at least, that the probability for this was high.
"Good night, sir..."
Slowly, Harry turned and walked away, lost in thought.
Only when he reached Gryffindor Tower, Harry noticed that lights were out. It had gone really dark already, too. That meant it was probably past midnight, since it was still September. The Headmaster's office windows must be charmed somehow. Harry was very likely out of bounds well beyond curfew, but to his relief, he'd encountered no-one.
A story like the one he'd heard tonight would take its time to be told, and to be taken in.
In the dormitory, Harry stood by the window for quite some time, looking out over the silent, moonlit grounds and the lake, not thinking anything. He did take a swig of the Dreamless Sleep Potion that night.