56. The Truth About Severus Snape
They conjured two stretchers and took Neville and Bill to the hospital wing. Callie stayed by the former's side and held his hand all the way down. He was still shaking and groaning in pain, and she asked Lupin why the cursed barrier hadn't affected him as much as the boy.
"Maybe I didn't hit it as hard," he suggested. "Or maybe..." he paused, considering it "...maybe it's not as effective on... non-humans."
"But how did Snape just walk through it?" she asked.
"He must have known a spell that we don't. I can't deny that he's got more knowledge of Dark Magic than I do."
"He ran past us with Malfoy," Tonks cut in. "Where did he take him?"
Callie shrugged. "Probably locked him up somewhere to keep him from getting at Dumbledore," she said. "Somebody should go get him."
"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked. "I saw him run by."
"You did? That must mean Dumbledore's back," Lupin replied.
When they arrived at the hospital wing, Hermione and Luna were there, standing beside a bed that held Professor Flitwick. "Hermione!" Red called out, and the two ran to hug each other. Noting the unconscious Flitwik, he asked, "What happened to him?"
"Professor Snape said he collapsed," Hermione explained, "and told us to take care of him." She then noticed the mangled body on one of the stretchers and her eyes widened. "Who is that?"
"It's Bill," Red replied in a despondent voice. "He was attacked by Greyback." Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
Luna came forward, looking over the other stretcher. "And Neville?" she said, concern heavy on her face.
"Don't worry about me, I'm all right," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. Though he didn't look or sound so well, he was obviously in much better shape than Bill. So Callie took over his care while Madam Pomfrey and the others dealt with the latter.
"Stay still," Callie ordered, and she did the X-ray charm on him, looking for injuries. "You've got some broken ribs," she said. "And... ooh-" she winced "-a couple of the bones in your spine are... out of place."
"Bloody hell," he sighed.
She nixed the X-ray and opened his shirt, feeling around his torso for anything irregular.
"Aah!" he yelped when she pressed on a spot at his upper abdomen.
"Sorry!" she said, snatching her hands away from him. "I need help here. You could have internal bruising or bleeding. I don't know what I'm doing."
"I can wait," he replied. "Don't bother Pomfrey with me when Bill's over there dy-"
Dying. But he didn't want to say the word. "He's not going to die," Callie said. "He'll be all right." Of course, she didn't know that, but she had to believe he'd come out okay. Neville groaned again, gasping and sweating like mad, and she ran off to get him something for the pain. "Drink this," she ordered, putting her hand at the back of his head and lifting it so he could take the potion. "It may knock you out for a while, it's pretty strong."
He'd already looked pretty drowsy before she gave him the painkiller, and after a moment, he could barely keep his eyes open. But he mumbled, "I'm sorry."
She furrowed her brow. "Sorry for what?" she asked.
"For forgetting to give you the Liquid Luck," he replied sleepily. "For getting my arse knocked out and not being able to protect you."
"You threw yourself over me like a human shield," she said with a smirk. "Believe me, you did your part."
He reached up to take a lock of her hair between his fingers. "You fight, I fight," he muttered, looking as though he were about to pass out. "Se agapó, Calista."
"Ki egó s'agapó, koúklo prósopo." I love you too, doll face.
He was asleep by the time Pomfrey came over to assess him. Callie told her about the broken ribs and the spinal misalignment, as well as her fears about other internal injuries. The matron did a spell that showed his organs, and noted, "He's got a bit of bruising on his liver. But it's very treatable, he'll be all right."
Callie breathed a sigh of relief as the woman said, "Let me finish up with Mr. Weasley and then I'll be back. Let him rest for the time being." She returned to Bill's bedside, and Callie conjured a rag to wipe off the blood and dust and sweat from Neville's face.
"Se agapó," she repeated in a whisper. "Min me afíseis poté." Don't ever leave me.
A short while later, the doors opened and Harry appeared, looking like he'd just been through absolute hell. Ginny and Hagrid were at his side. Hermione ran up to the boy and threw her arms around him, while Lupin asked, "Are you all right, Harry?"
"I'm fine," he replied numbly. "How's Bill?" He spotted the redhead and looked over his ruined face. Pomfrey was dabbing at the wounds with some kind of ointment, but it wasn't doing much good. "Can't you fix them with a charm or something?" Harry asked.
"No charm will work on these," the matron replied, shaking her head sadly. "I've tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites."
"But he wasn't bitten at the full moon," Red said. "Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a... a real...?"
"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," Lupin replied. "But that does not mean that there won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely ever to heal fully, and... and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on."
"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though," Red argued. "Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state-"
"Ron," Ginny cut in, "Dumbledore's dead."
Callie had only been half paying attention, but she raised her head at that, her eyes wide and mouth dropping open.
"No!" Lupin exclaimed, falling into a chair and covering his face with his hands.
They were all silent a moment, absolutely stunned, before Tonks whispered, "How did he die? How did it happen?"
With a look of absolute contempt on his face, Harry explained, "Snape did it."
The Slytherin's heart skipped a beat. No, she hadn't heard that right.
"I was there, I saw it," the boy went on. "We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was. Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak... and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him."
He paused, before continuing, "More Death Eaters arrived... and then Snape... and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra."
Madam Pomfrey yelped out a sobbing noise, tears streaming from her eyes, and Callie got up on her feet and approached the boy, shaking her head. "No," she said in a resolute tone. "No, you're wrong, you're mistaken." He turned to her as she went on, "He couldn't have, he's... he's one of us."
"No, he's not," Harry shot back. "And I'm not mistaken, I watched him do it."
He looked rather angry at her for doubting what he'd claimed to have seen. "Harry, listen to me, I know Snape," she argued. "I know things about him that you don't, and I know he would never, ever..." She paused, before concluding, "Not Dumbledore!"
"Yes, Dumbledore!" the boy shouted. "And yes, Snape! You don't know him as well as you thought you did, Callie!" He paused. "You don't know him at all. None of you did." He indicated the others. "But I just watched him kill Dumbledore, and I chased him through the grounds and he cursed me. Then he made off with Malfoy. And the other Death Eaters, too. He's one of them, and he's always been one of them." Another pause. "Dumbledore trusted him, and he killed him. And if you don't believe that, if you think that I'm mad and I'm making up stories..." he took a breath, glaring at her "...then get out."
He turned his back on her and she stood gaping at him. Then she glanced around at the others - Lupin unable to look at anyone, Tonks and Luna on the verge of tears, Hermione holding her hands over her mouth in shock, Red looking like he might want to hit something.
As Madam Pomfrey continued to cry, Ginny whispered, "Shh! Listen!"
A faint, melancholy birdsong filtered in from outside. It was a rather haunting sound - sad, mournful, pained. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Callie thought, Fawkes? But the mental image of the phoenix came and went within a second, and she slowly turned to walk out of the hospital wing. As she crossed the entrance hall, McGonagall was heading in to join the others, and she called out, "Callie?" But the girl simply continued on towards the dungeons - walking, not running - almost as if she were in a daze.
It isn't true, she thought matter-of-factly. It isn't true. Harry hates Snape. Dumbledore's dead and Harry hates Snape. He wants somebody to blame, so he's chosen Snape, because he hates him. He's always hated him.
She made her way through the dungeons, to her head of house's office, and she didn't even stop as she unlocked the door with Bill's - or whoever's - wand and flung it open.
He wasn't there. In his quarters, maybe. Or perhaps he did run off with the others. He'd have had to, in order to maintain his cover.
She glanced around the room, and her eyes came to rest on a little round stone - the moonstone she had given him the previous year - which was set on the desk atop a piece of parchment. She took the stone and held it in her hand, then picked up the parchment and read. It was his handwriting.
Disenchanted with me, are you, love?
Her heart sunk. The stone dropped out of her hand as she stared at the words.
I think he realized it was a trap, Harry had said. Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him... and then Snape... and Snape did it.
And then Malfoy's voice was ringing in her head. Bloody hell, Warbeck, he didn't defect - he's still a Death Eater! That was probably the Dark Lord's plan all along, to use me as a distraction so Snape could come up behind Dumbledore and get him by surprise.
"Oh, my God," she breathed, barely audibly. He had fucking told her. He'd told her exactly what was going to happen.
Don't go running towards the enemy. Approach from the side or behind them. Stay hidden as long as possible.
Right up until the last minute she'd believed... Dumbledore had believed... trusted...
Snape was in too deep with the Death Eater boys... he had quite a fondness for Dark Magic. Even came up with some of his own curses, he did. Winslow.
You're not the harmless convert who suddenly saw the light and turned noble. You were just trying to save your own skin like the rest of us! Karkaroff. You were one of us! You still are! It never goes away!
And then herself. You would have access to Slughorn's mead... You knew all about that curse on Katie Bell... Dumbledore trusts you. But then again... so does You Know Who. One of them has to be wrong... It all really falls into place quite neatly, doesn't it?
Harry had said that he'd run off with Malfoy and the others, that he'd cursed Harry.
"No," she muttered, shaking her head.
He couldn't have done it. He couldn't have.
He did. Harry wasn't crazy. And he wasn't that spiteful. He would never make up something like this. And he wasn't mistaken.
She brushed her fingers over the man's handwriting, and the image of him smirking to himself as he scribbled the words out on the parchment filled her mind. He had known she'd come looking for him, and he'd left her his own confirmation that it was all true. And he was mocking her. After everything they'd been through, every private moment between them, every time he had pretended to give a damn about her.
All of that was a God damn lie.
He was good to me, she thought. Many times he was good. Benevolent. He had a heart.
All of that was a God damn lie.
But he helped me. He protected me, he cared for me.
All of that was a God damn lie.
Disenchanted with me, are you, love?
Her hands balled into fists, crumpling the paper. She tore through it three times, then hurled the pieces across the room, an angry snarl twisting her face as her heart beat sped up and her breathing came harder and harder.
Silently she incanted, Accio, bat! It flew into her hand, and she went over to his shelves of ingredients - the jars of dead animals and pickled organs and that human fetus he'd stolen. And with a howl of absolute rage, she slammed the bat into it all, over and over again, shattering everything. There wasn't a coherent thought in her head, only a primal sort of madness that spurred her on. Glass and fluids and dead creatures covered the floor all around her - and then she moved across the room to smash his private store of potions, screaming with all her might, completely out of control. Nothing was off limits. She slammed the bat down onto his desk, on the bookcase, a cabinet, the fireplace mantel, destroying every object in view - including a bottle of that God forsaken red currant wine. Then she aimed her wand on his collection of books and incinerated them all with her Fire-Making Spell.
"God... DAMN YOU!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Tossing the wand aside, she turned back to his desk and upended it, before throwing herself to the ground and hitting her fists against the floor that was now covered in shards of broken glass. Soon enough her hands were covered in blood and stuck with miniscule pieces of the glass, but she barely noticed. She sat back, gasping for breath and wailing, tears pouring down her face. She hadn't sobbed this hard since... since the night he had held her in his arms and let her cry about her father. The first time she had ever sensed any sort of humanity in him. That night had marked a turning point in their relationship, after which they were no longer enemies, but almost friends.
The burning of the books had produced a cloud of smoke that stung her eyes, and her hands were dripping with blood. But she didn't care. None of it mattered - Dumbledore was dead. And Snape had killed him.
You'll find out soon enough, he had said. He had known all along what he was going to do, and there she'd been worrying that he was going to die.
Wondering what it might be like to be with a Death Eater. Maybe even a killer.
A killer. Bloody hell, he hadn't just been bluffing. He'd barely even tried to hide it. She shut her eyes against the tears and smoke, shaking her head slightly, and whispered, "God damn you."