Hi All,
thank you for still reading!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to Rowling, I make no money and I'm grateful to play. Every quote marked bold.
Please enjoy!
(and review if you can, it would make me so happy and productive!)
Chapter 43. "You have to lose a war"
Severus crashed face-down on the warm asphalt of a parking lot. He could smell the petrol and the heated dust, felt the warmth of the sunshine on his back, and the strange coldness as Nagini's venom burned through his veins. His left arm was almost numb already and it was more than dread that constricted his chest.
Dizzy from the blood loss and pain, and struggling for an even breath, he crawled and stumbled to his bike, lifted the safety charms and attacked the leather case that hang to the side, throwing all unimportant stuff out with blurred vision, money, some clothes, his flask of water landed on the ground until his fingers finally touched the familiar shape of crystal phials.
He fell back on his knees and gulped the antivenom and the blood-replenishing potion with gratitude before consciousness slipped into the darkness.
The next thing he knew, he smelled linen. Sunshine played on his face, and the pain was bearable, unlike the nausea. Try as he might, he couldn't open his eyes. It was mostly quiet except for some noises of an old room. A crunch of floorboards, a distant creek from somewhere… chirping birds and sounds of an engine outside….
Later he woke up to an unfamiliar touch on his neck and his instincts kicked in. He tried to jump away but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. He only jerked his head and regretted it at that instant. His neck hurt as if it was on fire. He smelled some Muggle germicide he faintly remembered from his childhood, his skin felt strange in unfamiliar clothing, and a male voice mumbled above him. He couldn't tell how thirsty he felt.
When Severus finally managed to open his eyes, it was dark around him and he was alone. His neck hurt to the shoulder and his head felt heavy and foggy, but when he tried his limbs moved, and he could finally take a look around. He realized that he lay on a camping bed under a window and his chest was propped higher than his neck and head. He hated it and tried to squirm away, and his butt hurt like it hadn't since he got a vaccine shot about thirty years back in Muggle school. Hell, what on earth could have happened since he was out? And how long was he laying here?
It was a starry night outside, the moon already high up in the sky. It would have been nice to see a clock or to cast Tempus. Talking about casting, where in hell was his wand?
Absently he waved a hand and the half-thought Lumos illuminated the room. It seemed empty. Some shelves, a tall table, two chairs, a small and tall one, a rug by the door and hooks in the wall, holding a coat, a visibly empty purse, and two more. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and waited for his vision to clear after the effort. The first thing he stared at was the Muggle trousers and his bare feet.
The realization soon followed that he wore other Muggle items of clothing, like a shirt which was open and… a scarf?
Severus reached up to his neck and touched a bandage. It was even larger than he would have imagined, and the gauze ran around his neck. That also seemed about the double of the size it should have been.
The smaller chair held his personal belongings: his robe and all he remembered that he'd kept in his pocket. There was a bezoar, some galleons and more sickles, a piece of parchment, two empty crystal phials, a headache potion, and his wand. Severus carefully gathered them all, repaired his torn robe, since it was opened up all the way from the neck down, and tried to clean the blood from it. Maybe it would be easier to transfigure something?
Before he could decide whether he should change into robes and leave already, footsteps arrived before the door, and Vincent, the Muggle shopkeeper of the Gas and Store stepped into the small room. Severus had only a moment to quickly extinguish the magical light before Vincent lit the lamp.
"You're up," – the old Muggle observed.
His voice sounded as if he was glad about the fact, though he still wasn't overly friendly. Severus reminded himself, that he had chosen a date before their sojourn here with Sage and the Gryffs this time.
"Yes," – he rustled out through throat as dry as a toast. Thankfully Vincent immediately offered a glass of water. It hurt to swallow, but still tasted life the better part of life.
"The doctor told me you'd feel thirsty. D'you want some more?"
Not trusting his voice Severus only nodded, then gratefully sipped his painful way through another glass of water. Now he risked to clear his throat, and waited until the coughs sounded familiar. His pulse still quickened with the effort, but Vincent didn't mind he was panting.
"Just take it slow," – the Muggle warned him. "You've got your wound cleaned, a shot of tetanus, antibiotics, and I sat around for a while until your fever broke. The doctor couldn't stay. It's polio again at the other side of the hill. I hope you won't need him back anytime soon."
Severus contemplated the news. Muggle medicine… a doctor. Vincent must have called a surgeon or the local doc. Where had he aimed his arrival? Sometime in '48 – he didn't want to stumble across the memories Sage left in the camping, he wanted to focus… Damn, one of his worse ideas! But polio? He almost forgot about that. He should brew a big batch of Easybreathe as a payback before he returns to the battle. Wizardkind never had a problem with that disease….
"I'll see what I can do," – he mumbled.
Vincent stared at him as if he worried for his sanity. "Who the hell are you?" – he finally asked, and Severus' brows ran together. Now, he knew he hadn't timed his arrival that long before their camping….
"You know me, Vincent."
The Muggle rubbed his face with exasperation, before he answered, "I thought I did. I thought for more than a year now, ever since you showed up from nowhere and put down that enormous money to order your bike. You were like a fish out of water but there had always been something about you…but this? I've never seen such a wound! Three days in fever and your mind still wanders…."
"I thank you for your help," – Severuse tried, hoping to calm him and find out more.
"Is that who you are? The one who thanks me?"
Severus shrugged as much as he could with swollen neck and shoulder, and he found he didn't mind this approach. "Yes."
Vincent shook his head. "You know if I hadn't known you for some time by now, and if I didn't like you, I should add… I would have called the police."
Severus didn't move just stared at him, waiting.
"You're a strange fella' I tell you that."
"I know."
"What have you done to yourself?"
Severus touched the bandages. "Nothing."
"Thought so," – Vincent grimaced. "You've been mumbling for a day and a half about flowers, you know..." – he added as a second thought, keenly examining Severus' face. "I tended to you though I really thought you gonna' snuff it, and all I heard from you were of lilies and daffodils – that's a narcissus, isn't it? And herbs. Mostly sages as I could make out. Are you some wacko or a gardener?"
Severus stared back at the Muggle with mounting concern. He wasn't eager to Obliviate him, but perhaps Vince wouldn't leave him any alternatives….
"I'm neither," – he finally professed.
"What then?" – Vincent pushed, and Severus lifted his wand before he went on: "Listen, I won't tell a soul, but I'm curious and I deserve something after these days. I don't ask about that wound, strange as it is, it look like a snake bite only twice as wide as any I've ever seen… I don't care about the costume or the tattoo. I'll leave you be. All I'm asking is what a guy like you wants with freaking daisies in his delirium?"
Severus started. First, he didn't even notice his lips running sideways into a rare grin, then he was wheezing with all the pent-up frustrations and tensions of the last days he remembered. Daisies?
Vincent sat on the small chair against him and patiently watched as he buried his face in his palms, snickering like a fool. He only asked when Severus calmed down. "So?"
"There was a Lily," – Severus admitted, "for a while. And, well, I might have spent some time with a Narcissa…." – he wheezed again. "But I swear to you, Vince, there's never been a Daisy."
This time the old Muggle laughed with him.
"D'you like girls with flower names?" Vincent blurted between fits of laughter. "You're wrong, man, you are a wacko, no question about that!"– he added. "I still like you. You wanna eat?"
Now that he asked, Severus realized he wasn't ready to try his chances with swallowing anything thicker than water. He shook his head apologetically, but Vincent didn't bother him like Poppy would have at the Infirmary. "About the wound –" – Severus began hesitantly, not being sure what to lie, but Vincent shook his head.
"None of my business, man," – he said and left the room.
It took two more days until Severus was famished enough to accept any food. Vincent didn't look bothered at all, he came and gone twice or thrice a day, checked his bandages and fever like he said the doctor said he should. However, Severus suspected he wasn't as calm about everything as he showed because once he mentioned he could eat, the old Muggle returned with a bowl of soup in record time. An hour after that the small lumps in the soup proved more of a challenge than talking or drinking, but with determination and a little Muggle pain-relief, it was possible. Vincent didn't bother him until he emptied his plate.
"There's that herb you didn't explain, you know," – he mentioned then, returning to one of their first conversations with mischief glittering in his eyes.
"And I won't," – Severus cut short any further inquiries. He drank the water the Muggle offered and put the glass on the table, still panting with the effort of leaning forward. He tried not to notice how funny the Muggle found his words.
"I'll leave before the morning," – he added. "Thank you for your help, it was–"
"Hold it, Sev, you don't go anywhere," – Vincent interrupted. "You have a lot of healing to do, and I won't see you fall off your bike." He grabbed the plate and the glass and walked away, only adding before leaving the room: "There's a ladder standing at the back of the house. Once you can climb it without getting dizzy, I won't ask what gardening you're up to or where."
Thinking about it, Severus had to agree. The short conversation and the simple fact he ate tired him so much it felt hard to breathe. When he left here he was going into a battle, and he would need every ounce of his strength to accomplish anything at all. He was yet to kill the snake and doubted he could at the moment. He lay back on the camping bed and fell asleep contemplating the curious nature of time. He was so used to not having enough, that it was hard to accept the change now. He had all the time he needed, and he should use it. Vincent was a strange Muggle, but he was right.
The next day and the days after ran away with short interruptions of eating some bites and dozing. Vincent changed the bandage frequently, using the foul-smelling Muggle medicines to keep it clean, and the tasteless pills to keep the pain at bay. He mentioned that the doctor had left those, but they were running low.
A week and a half later, Severus was ready to walk about the room in the morning, and he ventured out to his motorbike in the afternoon. Try as he might, he wasn't ready to approach the ladder, which mostly disturbed him because it discouraged him from Apparition. If only he could get to his camp which held already the storage he built after Christmas. It would provide him with potions he was more than ready to consume. Strengthening Solution, another Blood Replenisher, and some more sufficient pain relief to get through the night while the other potions accelerated the muscles' regrowth.
That took four more days to dare to risk, but once Severus Apparated to his camp and reached his potions, his healing accelerated some much, Vincent found it miraculous.
By the time the month was full since he'd regained consciousness, Severus had many experiences with that ladder at the back of the building and found the strength to brew several cauldron-full of Easybreathe. His wish to give it to the hopeless cases of the Muggles' fearsome illness for free, surprised Vincent to say the least. Severus didn't argue; he only left the batches with him, knowing that Vincent knew many who were ill, and if he avoided returning close to this time, the good doctor would look into those draughts in a lab. His conscience was uncommonly clean.
The healthier he felt, the more his mind turned to the absolute insanity of going back to the second he left the battle behind. Here the sun was shining and by all appearances, he'd made a friend. A wise, rough old Muggle who somehow liked him. It was safe here and peaceful. Yet returning was the only choice.
So one evening he transfigured some galleons just enough to hide the engravings and put them on the table. He changed back into his magically repaired robe, packed his pockets, and tore off the bandage. The wound was closed if not yet completely healed, he could touch it with his fingers. He thought of saying goodbye after dinner but eventually dismissed the idea, so Vincent couldn't argue against his decision. It felt as if the old Muggle sensed something anyway for he lingered longer talking about everything and nothing that evening. Severus watched his back as he left the room, and felt only gratitude, not dissimilar to his farewell to Héloïse.
The last issue was finding something against the snake, but the thought proved futile. Nagini was a Horcrux, that's why his transfigured sword kept slipping off her skin, he'd figured that out weeks ago… not knowing better, Severus transfigured the crystal phials that had held the antivenom into a dagger. His fingers caught in the smooth black stone Aberforth gave him. The Peverell insignia reminded him of a conversation from long ago. "I think you wanted to get rid of me to have all the fun breaking the curse on this by yourself!" He never wanted that, it only felt good to rile her. Everything felt good to him about her, always. Even before he'd realized what it meant. With a wistful sigh, Severus pocketed the stone and decided to make it a priority to hand it to Potter.
What else?
Severus looked about the now empty room and reversed the Locumtotum spell.
.
"Neville, you did it!" – Granger's voice was the first to reach Severus' ears. He still lay on the floor with closed eyes, his hand grabbed the dagger, but he couldn't feel the weight of the snake.
Footsteps again - rushed.
He heard excited voices and screams and Dumbledore's words: "It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on the way."
"By which time I shall be gone, and you dead!" – Voldemort replied. The next was the unmistakable sound of a curse swooshing through the air, the detonation of impact and roaring flames.
The replying spell was so forceful the air sizzled above him, then the metallic cling of an impact, a gong-like note, reverberating, an oddly chilling sound.
"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore. Above such brutality, are you?"
"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," – came Dumbledore's reply.
Severus started. Yes, destroying the Dark Lord should be easier without his Horcruxes. He used the moment when everyone was preoccupied with the exchange of the great and looked around for Nagini with the dagger in his hand. But – she lay beside him! Severus pushed himself up into a semi-sitting position and could only stare.
"Oh, god, Neville, look, he's alive!" – The surprised voice was hardly above a whisper, and obviously belonged to Granger. Severus turned his head away from the snake.
"Professor, I would have never thought…." – Longbottom looked lost between relief and wariness. "A-are you all right, sir?"
Severus looked the boy over from his scratched face to his half-kneeling legs beside him and his glance caught on a glittering ruby encased into the handle of a familiar sword….
"Yeah, this just fell out of the Sorting Hat," – the boy fidgeted with the sword self-consciously.
Sounds of a transfigured giant whip cut through the air but Severus searched again for the snake. Its head lay about ten feet from his legs, separated from the sinuous body.
"It worked quite well, though," – Longbottom added, still awkwardly, but gripping the sword with remarkable poise. That triumphant cry must have belonged to him then, Severus registered, then swallowed. One more down. And the last one is Potter. He hoped to Merlin that Dumbledore had the grace to follow through with their hasty plans and make time for the boy to at least grow up.
Furious hissing filled the air from the direction of the two in battle. He couldn't leave it to chance.
"Potter!" – Severus finally spoke, searching the Hall again. "I have to find him," – he attempted to move, but Granger's disturbing voice stopped him in motion.
"Professor, maybe you shouldn't. We thought you were dead, you're hurt…"
Severus mumbled something about stating the obvious again, but the girl finally showed some common sense and called out for her friend.
"Harry!"
The boy stepped closer from behind Longbottom, no wonder he couldn't see him. Severus reached into his pocket and fished out the small black stone.
"Take it!" – he held it out and Potter took it confusedly.
"Wha–" – he began, but just then a sound of Apparition, then a burst of fire… "Look out!" – Potter cried out, and just as he shouted, two jets of green light sprung out of Voldemort's wand. The phoenix swooped down in front of Dumbledore and all watched in awe as the bird swallowed the curse and turned into a hatchling, while Severus stared horrified at Potter, whose hand absently turned the stone once, twice…
Severus jumped from the floor, but he was still too slow, a golden statue came to life and tried to shield the boy, but the green light was quicker, and it reached – Lily?
With a constricted throat, Severus couldn't cry out as so many did. He could only watch the Killing Curse slowing down when it cut through Lily's shadowy form, to eventually strike down Potter. He heard Dumbledore shout something, Black cry like a wounded animal, but could only watch the boy collapsing.
Spells filled the air behind them, but Lily's shadow didn't disappear. She leaned over her son calling for help. Granger screamed at the top of her lungs, and ran to them, yanking Weasley with her by the arms that tried to hold her back.
"The Muggle way" – Lily's shadow told them. For Severus, it didn't make any sense, but Granger crouched down next to the boy, and she began pressuring his chest….
She was talking. Counting? Weasley's words of mixed histrionics and comfort suppressed any other sound, still, Severus saw that Granger was speaking rapidly between pressures, and Weasley pulled his wand – what could they hope for? All was lost, he failed, it was his fault, Severus knew it, it was all his fault and there was nothing to do anymore!
Before the avalanche of his self-loathing could bury him completely, Severus heard Weasley casting Ennervate. Granger kept up the rhythmical compressions, and Weasley cast again, until… The Boy-Who-Lived coughed and turned to his side with his friends' help. Longbottom and Miss Weasley ran to his side too, and cries from the crowd praised Merlin.
Severus had eyes only for the shadow. This time he saw Lily, he could tell. She looked at him and gestured towards the remains of the Fountain of Magical Brotherhood before her form dissolved into smoke.
The water emerged from the pool and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass, for a few seconds he was visible only as a dark and faceless figure, struggling to throw off the suffocating mass – then he was gone.
Bellatrix shouted at the other side of the Hall. It didn't mean a thing. He knew the Dark Lord would not give up this easily. Ample witnesses saw him tonight, punishing his followers wouldn't right this out. Only if he destroyed the boy, which he tried and failed. Their connection must have presented him with an enormous opportunity. No way could the boy have maintained his Occlumency amidst a battle!
Severus' eyes widened with the sudden realization, and his hands rose, his magic's intention pushed the boy back to the wall and out of harm's way, just a moment before the Dark Lord appeared at the exact spot he'd recently occupied.
"Severus!" – Voldemort cried out the traitor's name vengefully. He must have felt the raw magic even before he turned. "Why did you betray me when I could have shown you so much?"
The reply was ready in his mind, so clear, Severus knew the Dark Lord could read it: For Lily. However, when he spoke, strangely, two very different words fell through his teeth:
"Avada Kedavra."
He saw the bewilderment in the red eyes before him as Voldemort's body lifted in a green glow. Severus stared into those red eyes and watched the moment when the life turned off in them as if it happened in slow motion.
"That's for Lily Potter," – he silently told the empty carcass of a dark wizard as it was falling before his feet.
When it had fallen and time returned to its usual pace, Severus saw Potter by the other side of Voldemort's corpse. The boy was staring at him with Lily's eyes. And finally, those eyes didn't seem dull or empty. They weren't friendly either, but Severus could finally recognize what he saw. What was more surprising, he felt he could return the unspoken sentiment: Understanding.
They stared in each other's eyes for a moment longer, while all around everyone else already moved and talked or – in the Death Eaters' case – Apparated away with the greatest haste before the Aurors caught the slower ones. Someone shouted Fudge's name, then more and more people repeated that the Minister of Magic had arrived. Granger threw herself in the boy wonder's arms, Weasley was right there patting his back, and even Longbottom and Lovegood turned up with Miss Weasley before the crowd opened around them so the Minister could approach the boy.
"Why, who would have thought!" – the Minister began trying to plaster his usual jovial smile on his face, - "Death Eaters, students, even… You-know-who! All before sunrise! An explanation is in order if I'm not mistaken, and–"
"Cornelius. I believe I can serve with an explanation, but only after I escort my students and employees back to the school," – Dumbledore stepped in. "All you need to know until I return is to let the Aurors do their jobs, which may be harder than they intended since someone broke the anti-Apparition Charm. I'm sure you would like to look into that."
The Headmaster herded the students, Lupin and a big black dog towards one of the Floos, obviously expecting Severus to follow. He was hesitant until Fudge spoke again.
"Oh, no! No-no-no, Dumbledore, not them all! The Boy-who-lived should certainly attest… and, I recognize here a Death Eater, even if I remember you defending him at the end of last year and before. He should be arrested, of course. And a werewolf! He was most certainly not to set foot onto school-ground again as I recall!"
Severus could hardly hear the faffing from his blood suddenly rush and throb in his ears. Did the man say arrest? He was determined not to get close to a Dementor ever again! Not alive and breathing!
"In the light of the latest occurrences, Cornelius, you may be able to answer a more important question: Did or did not Lord Voldemort return?"
"Well, obviously… yes, it's quite obvious, however…"
"As obvious as it is plain to see that he was destroyed with the joint effort of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Now be a good bureaucrat and tell me, who is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, for I have no more patience for your meddling!"
"Well, you, of course, it's–"
"Thank you, Cornelius. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I hereby dismiss my Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for using unauthorized methods in disciplining students and general incompetence. Please take up all your issues with the Board of Governors if you have any. I also revoke all the Educational Decrees of her influence."
"But Dumbledore… I…"
"Until you're thinking, I'm taking my students and employees back to school," – the Headmaster repeated, and this time Severus obediently let himself be herded to the Floo.
"Remus, may I ask you to take care of that dog, it seems to calm the children" – he heard Dumbledore saying before he stepped through to the Headmaster's office in Hogwarts.
Potter was already preoccupied with the whispering portraits of the late headmasters, Granger studied the whispering magical machines by the window, and Longbottom looked as uncomfortable as any teen would be holding a thousand-year-old sword in his headmaster's office shortly before daybreak. Unlike the Lovegood girl, of course, who lifted her feet across the armrest of one of the armchairs and leant her head calmly to the side. The Weasley siblings came through with Lupin and the mutt right behind him.
Severus felt exactly nothing. No satisfaction from killing the devil, no easing of the tension that coiled inside him for way too long to count. If anything, he felt restless. Another compulsory bound of wasting time. He should leave already… However, he stopped dead when the mutt thought it wise to regain his human form and three children shrieked with horror behind his back. That Black tried to hug his godson didn't help at all. It was almost amusing to watch Longbottom wielding that sword again.
"Neville, it's not the way you know it," – Granger tried first, then the Headmaster stepped through the green flames and must have understood the situation in a blink of an eye.
"Miss Granger, may I ask you to escort Mr. Longbottom to the Infirmary? Those scratches on his face don't look good. Maybe you also would like Madam Pomfrey to check up on you. Please Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Lovegood follow along!"
"Yes, sir," – the kids hurried to oblige, probably happy for the retreat. Only Longbottom had some trouble in the doorway with the long sword before Dippet's amused portrait suggested he leave it on the table.
"Severus, you probably could make use of Poppy's attention too," – Dumbledore suggested.
"I'm fine," – Severus lied, having no idea how much his ashen complexion contested this statement. "We are not ready, sir," – he warned instead, but the Headmaster shook his head.
"You cannot go anywhere before the Ministry officially heard you out. Judging by Cornelius' hasty words, any attempt to resist or escape would only lessen your chances now."
"I don't care! Headmaster, I've been patient enough, I did everything we agreed, and now I will use my chance to–"
"Oh c'mon, you can't already be looking for a way out? Don't your pals have a plaything now or are you hoping to lead this army of miscreants just because you turned last minute and killed your boss?!"
Severus' wand moved against Black without a thought, and he wouldn't have watched what he cast if Dumbledore hadn't stepped between them.
"Enough is enough!" – The Headmaster declared in a tone of authority. "Sirius, you're here for your godson's sake, not for your opinion! Severus, put your wand down in my office. I will come and discuss this with you later."
Taking this as his dismissal Severus curtly nodded and left the rounded room, only to walk along the second-floor corridor and stop short in front of the most inviting door. He'd made the elves close it down, he knew he couldn't enter, but he leaned his head against the thick wood for some moments of reprieve. He had risked more in these last few hours than ever before, it couldn't be in vain… it simply couldn't!
He imagined Sage sitting around right inside there. Her brew would be silently bubbling, her herbs emitting their wonderful scent in the steam, and she would be reading with cognac in her hand. Barefoot. Both feet. She would pull them under her skirt in her armchair, and she would let him in after a simple knock on the door. They would talk about nothing until she would ease him into admitting his mixed feelings. His astonishment about seeing Lily's shadow, his regrets about being so useless! He would perhaps even admit he was so scared he hardly knew what he was doing… She would say that was a lie. Then she would squeeze his hand and it would be enough. This time it would be enough, for he felt so very tired he doubted it could be remedied with any length of sleep.
She would understand if he told her, and might even listen instead of turning in. About his twenty years in the shadow of the Dark Lord. About hopes and dreams that indeed bound him to the darkness. About sides and useless banter in the face of just the theory and the quest for magic. About his failure in his youth, his failure now, about missing her terribly…
Severus only left the door when he heard the staircase rotate behind the gargoyle, and he hasted down to his dungeons like a good little bat, Disillusioned as if he hadn't just won a war, to sit idly and feel useless and lonely the way he hadn't felt in his miserable life.
Within a few short hours, the Aurors arrived but they had no order to hear him out, they asked Severus to wait. He was on the verge of harming them or himself in his impatient anger.
Then Umbridge was found in the Forest and the Aurors couldn't get her out. Later the Headmaster had to walk through the woods to re-obtain his most worthless employee ever from the centaurs. Even Poppy wasn't friendly to the woman when she did her duty. At least that's what the elves and the students talked about in the kitchen and out on the corridors.
The rest of Filibuster's fireworks raced against the Weasley products around the castle, all Houses celebrated the fall of evil… except for Slytherin, which fell eerily silent. Severus knew he should talk to the kids, but what should, what could he possibly say? Some of the fathers and uncles lost a limb or freedom because he killed their lord. He was a traitor of their cause, if not a traitor of Slytherin, and now all these children shared the shame of those adults who couldn't find a better way than to follow a sick maniac and his ill-conceived plans. What could he say?
He'd been one of them. There were no words.
Sitting alone in the darkness of his quarters Severus began to believe he was guilty of all those sins of these last twenty years. He always knew he should suffer, perhaps for a while he hoped there could be an end to it, but it still felt just. Perhaps he would deserve Azkaban for the sins of his youth, he had been deadly wrong, hadn't he? All his attempts to right his errors, all those handfuls of people he somehow managed to help, to keep alive, to Obliviate for a chance to continue their lives, to stun to spare them some of the humiliation… he'd never thought it was enough. Not compared to everything he witnessed. He felt the dirt of it and knew it wasn't anything he could even attempt to wash off.
Héloïse was a dream. That friendly goddess was a dream. All his struggles were sleepwalking and he'd slain the devil in vain because he couldn't even finish what he vowed to do and leave! There was no freedom, the Aurors obviously didn't think he deserved it, even killing Voldemort couldn't gain him trust enough to move on. There was no need for the Wizengamot, this was already the verdict.
In his deepest despair, Severus couldn't even imagine looking Sage in the eye again. No words there either, just like he never had a defence for his actions against Lily. How would he ever explain that he sat around for – a quick Tempus showed it was a shorter time than he expected – twelve hours without moving a finger for her?
The Wizarding World celebrated the Battle of the Ministry and triumphing over evil, and Severus Snape was grieving for a war he lost. Which actually rang a bell…
You need to teach a boy unwilling because he is in deadly danger. You have to kill your true enemy four more times to conquer him. You have to win a battle and lose your war.
Well, that's done, no worries about it. As much as he hated it all, that was exactly the way he felt.
The only way to save love is to make love save you. Now, what does that mean? How should he make Sage save him when he couldn't as much as contact her? Calling Chubby was out of the question, whatever the elf was doing, he didn't want to hinder his efforts… Take courage, when you lose your last hope, your prize is nearby. Brilliant. So he should look around because he certainly was out of hope. Whatever could that ridiculous Prize mean? He wasn't expecting anything, he didn't do it for that…
The Prophecy made him almost as irate as Dumbledore's empty promise to talk to him. Later. The Headmaster apparently couldn't find the time, a small wonder under the circumstances, still, something that made him feel like in a cage.
He spent a few more hours of walking circles in his living room, repeatedly denying the allure of all those boxes that belonged to Sage and which now filled his bedroom since the house elves followed his order to store them there. Severus finally decided to venture out and ask one of the Ministry's men if he was in custody.
The castle was silent for a Wednesday evening. He couldn't see or hear a single student out in the corridors, although it couldn't yet be curfew. He'd almost reached the oak door in the Entrance Hall when a familiar Scottish brogue stopped him:
"Severus, I thought you'd never come out to see the light!" – One look made sure that Minerva wasn't thirsty. He wasn't sure he wanted to partake in this conversation, but lately, McGonagall had proven herself friendlier than he had ever expected. So he mumbled a greeting and some thrown-together words about his doubts if it made any difference.
"Codswallop! You were the one who killed him, you saved Harry and you saved us all, I wanted a chance to thank you for that! Now Filius and all the rest of the lot will just have to eat their words," – she laughed. "What are you still doing here anyway? You should be at some of the celebrations! We finally won!"
Severus could only stare. "WE?" When he saw Minerva couldn't follow, something snapped deep inside him. "We didn't win, Minerva. Dumbledore was clear enough when he'd talked about this to Fudge. The Order won, Harry fucking Potter won, and the Headmaster of bloody Hogwarts. Gryffindor's pride and some of their allies but if you had just one look at my House you would know Slytherin had no place in the "win"!
"I had no place in the win, for I thwarted our consecrated Headmaster's impeccable plan, and, for that, I cannot even be let loose before the Ministry decides upon my worth. No matter if someone suffers still by the consequences, no matter if I had things to do or a place to go–" – suddenly he felt the energy left him, and Severus collapsed into himself with shoulders hunching, and nodding low, like a balloon losing air.
"It doesn't matter," – he shook his head. "Go back and celebrate! You won."
For a few short seconds, he believed he could reach the door, but Minerva had never been someone to let such words slip by her, drunken or sober.
"Wait a minute, laddie, what are you talking about?! What consequences? I am yet to hear about Dumbledore's master plan, he's never been one to share his tactics–"
"Tactics?" – Severus couldn't help himself. It didn't matter anymore if McGonagall decided to believe him or not, he was through with blind loyalty. Come to think of it, he believed he was through with loyalty at all.
"Our magnificent Headmaster's tactics involved hiding away the fact the Dark Lord made six, yes, Minerva, six Horcruxes! He kept it to himself when Ginevra Weasley encountered one in her first year, he kept it to himself that a seventh piece of the Dark Lord's rotten soul was embedded in your favourite cub's head. He failed to separate Potter when the Dark Lord had easy access to his every thought, instead, he entrusted me with his teaching to repel the attacks on his mind, risking the lives of a thousand children, yours, mine, Sage Moody's–"- he halted for a second. "Of course, that still doesn't matter, for she had also known darkness…
"The Headmaster's plan was to bring up the child to eliminate the Horcruxes and then present himself as a sacrificial lamb for the Greater Good. Instead, I contacted his semi-coherent brother and made him take steps like an adult in charge. We still couldn't convince him to abandon his tactics! Tactics! As if that could be a euphemism for child sacrifice like in the older times, but it is me who cannot get a chance in life for meddling with the so-called Dark Arts! God damnit!" He only now realized he was panting. He was panting so hard he failed to notice McGonagall's utter astonishment.
"I didn't ask for more than a free retreat. I have things to do," – he finished awkwardly and finally turned away to compose himself. "Where is everybody? I need to find an Auror to ask about the terms of my custody as a Death Eater."
"Now, Severus, this is utter nonsense. Of course, the children are on the way home to enjoy the festivities, they will only return after the Easter Holidays. Some Aurors are guarding the perimeter, but I doubt you should have anything to–"
"Fudge asked for my hearing after the battle. The Headmas–"
"If all you said is true, I don't give a damn what Albus wants to say!" – Minerva cried out vehemently. "I won't lose a minute to walk up and ask him about it all myself, I wonder what Sirius Black would have to say about the matter! Child-sacrifice?"
"To eliminate a Horcrux, you need to destroy its container," – Severus provided.
"Sweet Merlin!" – Minerva sighed, horrified. "Who else did know about this? Aberforth, you say? And the others?"
"None that I know of," – he shook his head. "Except for Sage, but she's been lost in battle for days. I need to find her."
"What do you mean she's lost? What has been done to find her?"
Oddly Severus had to temper the sudden urge to laugh bitterly. His inefficient attempts were surely nothing to brag about. Should he trust Minerva and ask for her help? Maybe he could go to the Poultron house with her as a guarantor….
Just then, as if on cue, a louder pop than a house elf's usual sounded, and Chubby finally appeared in his ragged pillowcase, with more wrinkles than he had before but energetically bouncing on his toes and heels.
"Master! Master should-" – Chubby faltered when he noticed McGonagall. "Master excuses, Chubby needs to report, Chubby waits in Master's quarters."
"What? No!" – Severus couldn't care less at the moment if Minerva was around or Fudge himself. "Do you have news? Tell me this instant!"
"Chubby has good news, Master. Chubby found Mistress and one Chubby must not recognize. They are in bad shape, Chubby could get no food clean. Master said if trouble, Chubby takes them home."
"Indeed, and are they in trouble?" – He grabbed on the word.
The elf's ears shook with excitement. "No more trouble, Master. Chubby took them home."
Home? This time it was Severus who faltered. The dizzying sensation of sudden relief and the unanticipated return of hope seemed too much to bear, and his face suddenly felt cold, his head hollow… he wouldn't just faint like some simpering heroine in an old Muggle novel!
"Take me to her!" – He reached for the elf's arm.