Chapter Twenty-Nine: Forget Me Not
Severus looked down at the ancient grimoire and clenched his fists. It wouldn't do to set fire to a priceless historical artefact, not to mention the irreplaceable knowledge loss if he destroyed it.
He didn't know why he expected they would find any answers that Albus Dumbledore didn't have when he finally broke the wards on the tome. Potter had to die, and there was no way to knit a soul back together again. Not for Voldemort, at any rate. The fact that it had taken him the greater part of February to break the wards on the book made it all the more enraging that there was almost nothing helpful in the text.
The book had documented an ancient form of sacrificial magic that had very particular parameters. One could use self-sacrificial magic to cast a protective enchantment on an individual keyed to a specific foe against mortal harm—if they had been offered mercy by the foe and denied the mercy for themselves, and said simple ritual words to bind their sacrifice with magic. In other words, Voldemort had offered to spare Lily's life, but she refused, offering her life in place of Harry's, and by sacrificing her life—her blood, her soul—Harry had the ultimate protection against Voldemort, and so he could not die by his hands. Or had not been able to, before Voldemort had taken in some of Harry's blood in his return to corporeal life.
Which meant the Dark Lord was open to someone else sacrificing themselves for Harry, and a new application of this magic.
Evidently the Dark Lord had discovered this minor issue, because none of the Death Eaters were allowed to offer any mercy to their victims now, on pain of death.
But it was all a hypothetical exercise in futility, because Potter had to die. The only way to untether a part of a soul was to destroy the receptacle in which it was stored—in this case, Potter's very own soul. There was no point in offering another sacrifice to Voldemort for the sake of Potter's life.
In another section of the book, Severus read about the cleansing power of fire against dark objects—the darker the object the hotter the flame needed to be—and realised with a groan that he could have been destroying Horcruxes with Fiendfyre. He had not even thought of using a spell to destroy the Horcruxes because Albus fucking Dumbledore had felt the need to use the legendary sword of Gryffindor to do this work, but he should have accounted for Dumbledore's puritanical (and hypocritical) views on Dark Magic.
Finally, in another section of the book, Merlin had written of ancient treatises on treating the maladies of the soul. Severus had nearly thrown the book across his office when he had read that portion, because it had spoken of feeling remorse for the victims, based on compassion, understanding, empathy, and respect. Merlin had called it remorse, but Severus thought it sounded close to love, had heard it all from the Grey Lady before, and there was no way these feelings were possible for the Dark Lord to experience. There was no way the Dark Lord's soul could reach for another, and have it reach back. It was bitterly disappointing that for all the legends there were problems that even Merlin could not solve.
He had not told Hermione about the sacrificial soul magic, because he knew what she would do if she knew.
Asking Narcissa to take the cup from Bellatrix's vaults made the discovery of his loyalties just a matter of time. He had prepared for that eventuality, but he had managed to pass Hermione the Diadem and Potter had destroyed it with the sword. There was just the cup, the snake, and the boy left, and if things went according to plan then it would only be the boy, then repairing the soul to send it over to the other side. Severus cursed the fact that damaged souls could not cross over, and did not relish the thought of spending the rest of his death wandering the same world as bits of Voldemort's soul. But he could worry about that later; he had faith that if there was anyone who could figure out how to knit an unwilling soul back together, it would be Hermione Granger.
There were other interesting magics in the Merlin's grimoire, but none of it was safe to practise, and he was running himself ragged trying to prevent wide-scale violence from happening within the schools.
The other professors had decided to strike back against the Carrows and Filch with renewed vigour after the Christmas break—mostly in small ways, such as rusting Filch's torture devices to the point of disuse (the Carrows couldn't even manage a simple rust removal charm, truly a pity), or covertly hexing the wand arms of the Carrows while Madam Pomfrey was busy, or, in the case of McGonagall, abusing her Deputy Headmistress powers to delay their way through the castle by asking Hogwarts to deposit the Carrows far from their destinations so that students would have a chance to run—and the students were following suit. A lot more duelling happened in the hallways, and he was doing all he could to pretend to enforce school discipline, but it seemed as if the whole school had caught on to the fact that so long as they didn't do anything he explicitly said not to do they would not be punished.
Days ago he had found a tin of oatcakes and a cloth-wrapped package of Dunlop cheese on his desk, though Minerva was still not talking to him except to cross words about how the school was run. The sight of the biscuit tin and cheese had been a punch to the gut. He had run every curse and poison detection charm he had thought of, and the food had been clean. He had slammed the offending items into a compartment within the Headmaster's desk before the shaking in his hands could grow worse.
He had no time to deal with his feelings, which were barely held together by the last remnants of his sanity. The Carrows were dangerously close to permanently maiming students and staff, if not outright commiting murder, and he had his hands full using his Headmaster's powers to observe them at all hours to prevent further violence from happening. His only reprieves were mealtimes and Sundays, which the Carrows took off to socialise with the other Death Eaters. It wouldn't do for them to lose their regular time dedicated to gossip in between the torture and brainwashing of innocent children, of course.
The Carrows were furious with him for the handling of his staff, but he had told them that if they could not fight their own battles he would not step in to help them, as he had better things to do as Headmaster. He was still favoured by the Dark Lord, and he made use of the fact.
It was all too much. Severus wanted to quit. Leave the Death Eaters, leave the Dark Lord, leave Hogwarts, leave the problem that was Hermione Granger, never see Harry Potter again, move to Germany or Spain. He knew he couldn't, but for the first time since the war began, he yearned to leave, and possibly take someone with him.
"Severus!"
Severus had jerked awake moments earlier from where he had briefly passed out at his desk due to the castle wards warning him of another presence approaching his office, and found Narcissa Malfoy in his study. It had been raining, and the steady beat of the early spring rain against his office windows as well as his exhaustion had lulled him to sleep.
"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately alert.
He frowned when he saw Lucius step out from behind Narcissa, dressed in the plainest grey cloak he had ever seen the man wear. He looked worn.
"What is going on?" he asked when Narcissa did not reply.
"Bella has discovered that the object is missing from her vaults. She has been thrown out from Gringotts for cursing the goblins, but I fear it may be only a matter of time before she realises that it was me, or that it occurs to her to have her husband ask who has accessed her vaults," Narcissa said, hands trembling as she lowered her green velvet travelling cloak. Her skin was ghastly white, and her hair was the most unkempt that Severus had ever seen.
"You did what?" Lucius' face paled.
"Severus requested my help, and after what he has done for Draco, we owe it to him," Narcissa hissed.
Severus ignored Lucius for the moment and turned to Narcissa. "And you thought that running away with your husband would not make her come to these conclusions sooner?"
"She may be unstable but she is not a fool," Narcissa hissed, face twisted in an uncharacteristically inelegant expression. "We could not have stayed at the Manor much longer. The Dark Lord was most displeased when the prisoners escaped; Lucius has no wand and I cannot fight against all of you."
"You two had better find a good hiding spot then, because the Malfoy Manor Floo is monitored and I cannot lie about your whereabouts," Severus said, growing angrier at the moment.
"Do you think that I would approach you if I had not thought you capable of the deception?" Narcissa sniffed. "We went through the kitchen Floo. It's unlikely that any of them would think of using it soon. I don't think Bella has ever stepped foot in a kitchen in her life."
"You may use my old quarters then," Severus said, his patience wearing thin. "But they will find you soon enough. I need to raise the wards to keep them out—and that means you too, Lucius, if you ever leave these grounds. You have the item?"
"You mean this awful object that has the same magic in it as that dear diary that Lucius was nearly murdered for losing?" Narcissa asked dryly, pulling out a cloth wrapped bundle from beneath her cloak. "Take it. I don't want to know what you want with this."
Lucius made a noise like a trodden mouse when he heard this. "Are you mad?"
"Quite frankly I'm not entirely sure of the answer to that question these days," Severus said flatly, his voice affecting boredom.
"If the Dark Lord ever finds out you did this—"
"Oh, he'll find out soon enough, I gather." Severus smirked, feeling a sort of thrill at his lack of fear for his impending demise.
Lucius spluttered. "You have endangered my wife—"
"And you have endangered a school full of innocent children!" Severus shouted, and then took a deep breath. "I have contacts who could set you up in France, or further if you feel that France would not be far enough," he said quietly. "Did you truly think that I would not think of your safety, old friend, regardless of what I was planning?"
"I cannot condone your actions, Severus," Lucius said in a low tone. "You will kill yourself."
"Ah, how touching that you have finally admitted your regard for me. I am not the boy who listens to you anymore," Severus said. "But I hope I can trust you not to stop me."
"It's madness. But I won't stop you," said Lucius, expression solemn. Severus knew he could trust Lucius, because he was the only Death Eater left who truly cared for Draco, and could ensure Draco's survival, and Lucius knew this.
"Thank you," Severus said softly. "Do you two wish to see Draco?"
"That would be appreciated," Narcissa said for the two of them.
Severus eyed them for a moment. "My old quarters are warded. I'll have him take you both there; he knows the way and the password." With that, Severus called for Kreacher, and asked him to bring the Malfoy heir to his office. Kreacher eyed him suspiciously, but did as he was asked when Narcissa asked.
A moment later, a perfectly coiffed younger Malfoy was brought to Severus' office, wand raised in a duelling stance. He lowered his wand immediately when he saw his parents.
"Mother. Father." Draco stumbled. "What's wrong?"
"Please bring your parents to my old quarters, and Disillusion them for the trip through the halls," Severus said in a low voice. "If you two won't mind, I have an urgent errand to run."
With that, he took the cloth-wrapped bundle that Narcissa had given him, and made his way to the small room in the Headmaster's chambers, where he began to raise the wards around the school to keep out anyone with the Dark Mark or magic associated with the Dark Lord. Death Eaters already in the castle would not be expelled, but no more Death Eaters could come in. He knew his time was running out, and that it was time to leave the castle and let his staff go into full mutiny.
The Horcrux was still speaking to Severus in a soft sibilant voice.
"Did you think you could take down the Darkest wizard of all time? Did you think yourself an honourable man, the man who killed his last love and is obsessed with a witch again who would never want to be yours? You are nothing but a hateful man with a hateful face, and you will die alone and unloved."
Severus sneered. "Tell me something I don't know."
"She's just using you to protect Potter, she doesn't care for you, she doesn't believe—"
"—once again, tell me something I don't know!" Severus said with a snarl, and slashed his wand at the object. A tendril of Fiendfyre erupted from the tip of his wand, fuelled by self-loathing and rage. Flame met metal with a hiss; the metal softened, then caved in. Severus jerked his wand up to stop the Fiendfyre when the cup was unrecognisable, and barely managed to avoid burning everything around him in the process. Black liquid erupted from the cup, covering the floor, spreading across the other objects in the room and staining his shoes.
"Melodramatic fuck," Severus spat, feeling the heat in his blood after casting Fiendfyre. He vanished the dark liquid, then left the Room, his ears buzzing with the words of the Horcrux and his blood singing with lust for destruction.
Harry was writhing on the ground in pain; he let out a hoarse groan and then collapsed, and then he was screaming. "HE KNOWS!"
Hermione and Ron looked at each other grimly.
"It's the Horcruxes, isn't it?" Ron asked.
Hermione nodded, then cautiously approached Harry. She was worried that he would hit his head against the tiled kitchen floor too hard, but he seemed to retain some control over himself.
"He's going to go to Hogwarts," he said dully, after his spasms stopped. "He's angry. Someone took the cup from Bellatrix's Gringotts vault, and they found out that it was Narcissa Malfoy after they tortured a goblin."
Hermione nodded briskly. "All right. All right," she said, trying to calm herself down. Severus had said that he had a contact who could help him acquire the Horcrux, but she had not expected even in her wildest dreams that it could be Narcissa Malfoy.
Harry shook himself a little, and gingerly stood up. "We've got to go to Hogwarts," he said resolutely.
"Harry—" Hermione started.
"I'm tired of standing by. You've heard the death tolls through the wizarding radio, Hermione. I can't stand by anymore. Besides, it's me he wants. I could buy us time to protect Hogwarts. Are you with me or not?" Harry asked, with a mulish set to his face.
"Of course I'm with you. And...for what it's worth, I think the Horcrux that You-Know-Who was angry about is at Hogwarts. But still I think this is an awful idea," Hermione huffed.
"All right. What are we going to do once we get to Hogwarts then?" Ron asked.
"We'll destroy the final Horcrux, and call on the Order to help defend the castle while I face down You-Know-Who of course," Harry said.
"Oh well, if that's all then, what time do you think we should schedule this for? Should we drop by Snape's office for tea first?" Ron asked, incredulous.
"Don't be daft. The sooner we get to the castle the sooner we can make sure things are going to be fine. And I've been seeing messages on the DA coins—they've been getting around the castle behind Snape's back and they're planning a large push back soon. We'll just be helping it happen faster," Harry said fiercely.
"Harry I don't know…" Hermione wrung her hands. She worried about Severus—what would happen once they got to the castle? She would have to alert him to the fact that they were going to the castle and hope he came up with some way to leave and maintain his cover for as long as he needed.
"I know you'd like to prepare more, and I wish we could, but after this Horcrux it's just him and the snake. He brings his snake with him everywhere. No amount of time spent preparing for this will make it go any better," Harry said, a hint of steel in his voice.
"Of course," Hermione said. "Just...don't do anything rash, all right?"
Harry smiled. "When have I ever been rash?"
Hermione smiled back in spite of herself.
Severus' Dark Mark burned with low-grade irritation; Voldemort was angry. His Mark had been burning for hours.
Panting, he wiped the sweat from his brow, and felt the enchanted coin he always kept in his pocket warm up.
He pulled the coin out, and cursed at the message that he saw. We're coming to Hogwarts. YKW on his way. He knows.
He tapped the coin with his wand once, and sent a message back. Cup destroyed. Be safe. Then he tucked it into his pocket again, and ignored the flare of warmth from the coin that he felt in response.
As he made his way back to his office, he heard the booming cracks of the castle wards under attack. Then his Mark burned with a summon. It was time, then.
He drained the entire contents of one of his potions, then pressed his wand against his Dark Mark, immediately feeling the violent whirlwind that was Apparition with the Mark, using the last privilege he held as Headmaster. He landed in a crouch and found himself in the Shrieking Shack.
"Severus, I do appreciate your punctuality," Voldemort said, putting Severus more on alert than he already was.
"You called for me," Severus stated, though he meant it as a question.
"I find myself blocked by the castle wards, and our lovely cabinet destroyed. What is the meaning of this?" Voldemort asked, leaning casually against a worn table. Nagini moved in a curling motion against herself in the golden bubble that Severus just observed.
"I do not know what has happened to the cabinet, and I have been forced from my post. The staff have mutinied; I do not know what happened to the Carrow twins. The wards must be the work of the Deputy Headmistress, as I cannot enter the castle myself anymore," Severus said, repeating the lie he came up with moments earlier.
"Surely you have some way of forcing your way in, as Headmaster still?" Voldemort asked, his fingers flexing once around his wand. It was an ugly black thing, and Severus eyed it warily.
"I do not," Severus said, straightening his back. Nagini coiled against herself in a more agitated manner.
"I see," Voldemort said, his red eyes boring into Severus. Severus braced himself for the Legilimency, but it never came.
In the distance, the sound of Death Eaters attacking the castle wards continued.
"It is but a minor inconvenience, and I am disappointed that you have lost the post you asked for," Voldemort said, idly stroking the golden orb that held Nagini. "Though, it does make the other matter easier to deal with," he added.
"The other matter, My Lord?" Severus asked, heart hammering.
Hermione was nauseous as they raced down the secret tunnels to leave Hogwarts. Her head was dizzy with how fast everything had happened—after she took Harry and Ron along from Spinner's End through the Headmaster's office, which they hadn't even questioned except for a quizzical look from Ron—they had found that the castle wards were under attack, Severus gone from the castle, and that the Order as well as students who were members of Dumbledore's Army had gathered to fight against the Death Eaters.
They had managed to get away from the crowd to find the last Horcrux when Hermione checked her coin, and found out that Severus had destroyed the last Cup.
She was just telling Harry this when he collapsed against the wall of the passageway that they were in.
"Nagini is with You-Know-Who at the Shrieking Shack. Snape's on his way there. We can get all of them in one go then," he said with a grimace, one hand clutching his head.
"Get all of them?" Hermione asked faintly.
"Destroy them all. The monster, the snake, and Snape," Harry replied evenly.
Hermione stopped breathing for a moment. "Harry...there's something I need to tell you."
"Hermione—later—we have to go now," Harry snapped.
"No it's—Snape is on our side. Has been the entire time. He gave us the sword and helped us with the Horcruxes and got Narcissa to give him the Cup, which he's just destroyed."
Ron made an unbelieving noise. Harry stared at her blankly. "That's not funny."
"I'm serious!" Hermione hissed.
Harry's face turned red, and Hermione did not turn to see what the expression on Ron's face was.
"How long?—you know what? I don't want to know. I'll take your word for it because I trust you—even though I can't remember why I do right now—and I'm very angry with you that you've kept this from me for who knows how long, but we don't have the time for that right now," Harry said, his entire body going rigid.
"Are you serious mate?" Ron asked furiously.
"Trust me, I'm very serious. It's not. The. Time," Harry said through gritted teeth, and then took a deep breath. "C'mon, we're going to have to get there faster then, if Snape's actually on our side," he said, body radiating tension, and then he strode down the tunnel that led out of the school.
"Yes, the other matter. You see, I have the Elder Wand, which I took from the grave of Albus Dumbledore. I can perform extraordinary magic with it, but nothing beyond my usual abilities," Voldemort said, raising the Elder Wand slowly.
Severus had a bad feeling about where this was going. Then he heard scuffling in the tunnel leading up to the Shrieking Shack, and the bad feeling turned awful because he knew who those footsteps belonged to. He had enhanced his hearing with his usual sound amplification charm before approaching the Dark Lord, and there was no mistaking the sound of Granger's hesitant footsteps, or Potter's determined stride, or Weasley's shuffling. At least he could get his message to Potter in time after all.
"I'm afraid that wandlore is not my area of expertise," Severus said, to cover the muffled sounds from the tunnel, stalling for time.
"I think you know what I mean, Severus," Voldemort said, standing stock still in front of him. Nagini undulated violently in her golden orb and began to uncoil herself.
Severus prayed to gods he did not believe in that Voldemort would use the snake. Whether the gods answered his prayers or not he did not know, but the golden orb that encased Nagini faded from view.
"Unlike other wands, the Elder Wand can switch allegiance from master to master, and this happens through conquest," Voldemort continued on while Severus remained silent.
Severus felt a hysterical sense of irony settle in his gut as he thought about his impending death. He was going to be killed while making his final stand, with the Dark Lord still unaware of his true allegiances, all for a wand that he didn't even have ownership of as Draco had been the one to disarm Dumbledore.
"You were the last person to defeat Albus Dumbledore. You were loyal and brave, and I do regret this," the Dark Lord said, then he hissed at Nagini. The snake lunged.
Burning pain spread through his neck as he was bitten. Severus collapsed under the weight of the giant serpent, but he hoped spitefully that Nagini would drink his blood. He could feel the tongue of the serpent swipe at his neck, and then Nagini hissed, spitting out blood, but it was too late. The snake began to foam at the mouth and writhed in agony.
"What is this?" Voldemort roared. "What have you done?" he snarled at Severus, staring in horror as his familiar twisted and curled violently until it went still. Voldemort cursed under his breath, and his eyes flashed with a strange unholy light.
"The Avada would be too kind for you," Voldemort said to Severus as he slashed his wand at a corner of the room. "Incendio," he hissed. "I hope that your death is long and painful," he said, nose slits flaring. Severus let out a gurgling gasp as Voldemort left the Shack through a window.
A moment later the dim outline of a shoe approached his field of vision, and then the Trio. Someone cast Aguamenti. He tried to speak, but the attempt caused him violent pain, and his vision was fading fast.
Both Harry and Hermione were looking at him, and focused his powers of Occlumency and Legilimency into letting go of memories that he had long since stopped thinking about.
He heard the conjuring of a flask—Hermione, of course—and then some shuffling. He was beginning to lose feeling in his limbs, and the pain had reached a level where more pain no longer registered.
He closed his eyes briefly, taking a moment before opening them again and making another attempt at speech. He could allow himself one small indulgence, now that his time was at an end.
"Look at me," he said, hoping for one last look at the light brown eyes that haunted his dreams.
What he saw instead were the bright bottle green eyes of Potter, getting in the way. Typical, was his last thought, as his consciousness faded.
"Look at me," he had said, and Hermione saw that Harry turned to look. Severus looked into Harry's eyes—Lily Potter's eyes, she thought—before finally closing his.
Then there was a twinkle in his left hand, where a small cluster of vivid blue blossoms appeared. Her heart beat wildly and her mind whited out with static. Forget-me-nots. For true love, and the obvious.
Hermione snatched up the small blooms and cradled them to her body before putting them in the pockets of her hoody.
Severus's body went slack after his final act of magic. There was nothing in her mind but panic and adrenaline.
Harry looked reluctant to leave, but his face was set. "C'mon, we have to go," he said.
"Just a moment," she said shakily, "I—I have to try to help. I'll catch up as soon as I can."
Harry jerked his head and gestured to Ron to move. "I'll be in Dumbledore's office," he said, taking the flask of memories from Hermione.
They weren't out the door before she dug into her beaded bag with shaking hands, pulling out Essence of Dittany and a blood replenisher and a bezoar. She shoved the bezoar down his throat, then the blood replenisher, and then poured the entire contents left in the bottle of dittany over his neck. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and found a faint heartbeat.
The wound on his neck wasn't closing, and for a moment there was nothing but the sense of a skipping of a record in her head before she began singing the Vulnera Sanentur spell.
She thought wildly of wormwood and asphodel as his heartbeat slowed—my regrets follow you to the grave and bitter sorrow—no, that would not happen, not on her watch. She wouldn't let him die, wouldn't lay sprays of wormwood and asphodel on his grave for the rest of her life. She refused.
His wound was still not closing and he was still bleeding. She thought of wormwood and asphodel again, found the Draught of Living Death in her bag on the first try—Severus' own recipe, made by Harry—and poured it down his throat. Instantly, the bleeding slowed to a trace of a trickle, as everything about his body slowed.
Her fingers went to his wrist. His heartbeat was barely perceptible now, as was the rise and fall of his chest. There was nothing left that she could do.
It would have to do. There was no time. She had to go.
She cast the strongest wards she knew around the room, desperation giving her magic a strength she didn't know she had. She stood up shakily and took one last look at Severus, face ghastly pale and lying as still as a corpse, before she left.
AN: I just finished writing chapter 35 last week, so here's another chapter! I am very close to finishing this fic, so I will be posting every other week until I am done, at which point I will switch to posting weekly. Thanks everyone for being patient for chapter updates and the support.