71. Interlude
Silence. No hissing voice, and no yelling or smashing or crackling of spells on the other side of the door. "What's going on?" Lavender asked.
Callie cracked the door open and looked out. The entrance hall was significantly less crowded now, and from what she could see, not one Death Eater remained. The Light Side fighters were standing around looking rather dumbfounded. A few of them were tending to the injured, and somebody said, "Get 'em into the Great Hall."
"Madam Pomfrey," Callie breathed as the matron scurried past. Pulling the door open wider, "Madam Pomfrey!"
The woman turned to Callie and ran over. "Are you all right, dear?" she asked.
"Yes." Callie stood up on her feet. "But Lavender Brown is injured." The matron looked over the girl, conjured a stretcher, and moved her from the closet to the Great Hall. Callie went along, holding Lavender's hand and assuring her that she was going to be all right. "Puffy, stay with her," she ordered the elf. "Help Pomfrey. I've gotta find Neville."
The last place she'd seen him had been the Great Hall, but he wasn't there now. Nor was he in the entrance hall, or any of the adjacent areas. "Fuck," she muttered. "Please don't be dead." She decided to check the grounds, holding her wand at the ready, but paused on the front steps as she took in the sight before her.
Perhaps three dozen bodies were strewn about the grass, a mix of Death Eaters and Hogwarts defenders. Callie wandered amongst them, braving a glance at each of their faces to determine who'd been lost. "Oh, Colin," she muttered with a pained expression on her face. He'd been one of her comrades in fifth-year. His eyes were open, locked on the stars above, and she bent down to shut them. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
With every body that she checked, she was praying that it wouldn't be Neville's face staring unseeingly up into the sky. And every time it wasn't him, her relief was immediately followed by a pang of guilt. Thank God this poor dead bloke isn't my bloke, had to be the most insensitive thought that had ever crossed her mind.
She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes had gone by since the Dark Lord's message. She sat back and thought about what he'd said to Harry, specifically. Trying to get him to give himself up. Guilting him - threatening to "punish" everyone who had tried to protect him. Good Christ, she knew the boy well enough to know that he was not going to let anyone else die if he could help it.
Don't listen to him, Harry. He's still going to try and slaughter us all even if you do hand yourself over.
"Callie!"
Oh, thank God! She jumped up and ran towards Neville, who met her halfway across the grounds. The two threw their arms around each other, and he lifted her right off her feet. "Where were you?" she asked. "I looked around, I couldn't find you!"
"I went up to the Astronomy Tower to get Tonks," he said in a quiet voice. "They're gathering the... the fallen in the Great Hall."
Callie sighed and asked, "Did you see Lavender in there? I think she was attacked by Greyback. Is she all right?"
"I don't know, I didn't see." He nodded towards the castle and said, "Go on in, you can check up on her."
"Come with me," she ordered. "I'm not leaving you out here by yourself."
"I'm not by myself." Indicating a figure kneeling over a body a few yards away, he explained, "Oliver Wood and I came out here to bring people in. We'll stay together. You go. Madam Pomfrey could use the help."
She hesitated, but gave him a quick kiss and turned to go back to the castle. "I love you. Be careful."
"I love you, too." They exchanged a small, sad smile before she turned her back on him.
Inside, the castle was still eerily quiet, and empty except for the Great Hall. She took a breath, preparing herself for whoever she was about to find dead in there, and went in. Madam Pomfrey was still tending to Lavender, with Puffy at her side.
"How is she?" Callie asked.
"We've managed to stop the bleeding," the matron replied, nodding towards Puffy. "She's asleep now - I gave her a calming potion."
"I loaded her up with blood-replenisher before I found you," Callie informed the woman.
"Ah. I was wondering about that," Pomfrey said. "Her color's been steadily improving since we brought her in."
"Is she going to be all right?"
The matron got a thoughtful look on her face, then said. "Bill Weasley came out of it in one piece. I believe Miss Brown's case is going to be quite similar to his. But she'll survive."
With a sigh, Callie said, "I'm going to check on everyone else." The tables had been cleared away to make room for the dead, who'd been laid out on the floor side by side. It was completely horrific, wandering amongst the dozens of bodies - some familiar, others unknown to her - and thinking that only a few hours ago, they had all been alive and well and gearing up for battle. Now they would never see another day again. Every one of them had had a life and a future, and all of that was gone. Bodies - that was all that was left of them. She prayed to God that their spirits would find peace.
And then she finally came upon Tonks - and Lupin. The sight of him drew up a choking, gasping sound from her throat, and her knees buckled, nearly causing her to drop to the floor. "Bloody hell," she breathed, tears forming in her eyes as she knelt beside him. "I'm sorry," she whispered in a shaky voice, brushing back his hair and pressing her lips to his forehead. At the moment, she would've gladly given her life to bring him back, to reunite him with his newborn son.
She didn't bother trying to fight the tears, thinking back on every interaction she'd had with the man. Bumping into him on the train in third year (she could still hear his first words to her - "Sorry, love"), the secret exchanging of chocolates, him kissing her hand in that old-fashioned gentlemanly way, his kindness and encouragement, the two of them fighting together the previous year.
She reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo of little turquoise-haired Teddy. "He'll be okay," she said, squeezing Lupin's hand. "I promise." She carefully tucked the photo in her backpack, wanting to keep it safe until it could be buried with the man, then stood up and continued on.
Then she froze in her tracks as she spotted the Weasley family a few feet away. "Oh, no," she muttered, slowly approaching them.
It was one of the twins, but she couldn't tell which. She went to stand beside Hermione, who was leaning on Red and wiping her tears, and Callie whispered in the girl's ear, "Is it Fred or George?"
"Fr- Fred," she replied, almost inaudibly.
For perhaps the first time ever, Callie addressed the youngest Weasley boy by his actual name. "Ron," she said softly, "I am so sorry."
He simply nodded, clearly struggling not to cry. Meanwhile, George was inconsolable, holding onto his twin as though his life depended on it, and Mrs. Weasley was clinging to her husband, crying out for her baby boy.
"I can't take this," Ginny said, clapping her hand over her mouth and running off. Callie thought about going after her, but based on her own experience with a loved one's death, decided to let the girl have a moment alone.
The sight of Mrs. Weasley grieving her son made Callie think about her own mum. Turning to Hermione and Ron, she said, "Listen... if I don't make it out of here-"
"Don't say that," Hermione cut in.
"No, this is important," Callie went on. "My mum's in the States - Chicago. I don't know her exact address, but she's working at Cook County Hospital. If anything happens to me, you find her, and you tell her that I love her and I'm sorry."
Hermione's eyes welled up, and she pulled Callie in for a hug. "I'll tell her," she promised.
Pulling back to meet her best friend's eye, Callie added, "And take care of her. Make sure she's all right."
"I will."
They all stood in silence for a moment, no one quite sure what to do or say. It was Ron who finally spoke up. "Snape's dead."
Callie snapped her head up at him, her heart skipping a beat. "What?" she said.
"He's dead," Ron repeated, meeting her eye.
She felt as if her entire body had been flooded with ice water. Suddenly her mind had gone completely blank, her mouth hanging open as she stared, wide-eyed, at the redhead.
"We were in the Shrieking Shack," he explained flatly. "He was talking with Voldemort. The snake - Voldemort's got a big snake - was hanging in this... bubble-like thing. And Voldemort sicced it on him." He held his hand up to his throat and said, "Got him right here in the neck."
Callie hadn't moved a muscle - hadn't even blinked - as Ron explained what had happened. She must've looked quite odd, because Hermione furrowed her brow and said, "Callie? Callie, are you all right?"
She didn't respond, other than to slowly turn away and begin walking through the Great Hall like a zombie. The dead bodies on either side of her might as well have vanished. The prospect of the Dark Lord coming into the castle in a half an hour's time was no concern to her. It was as though the entire world had slipped away, and nothing at all mattered anymore. Snape's dead. Those were the only two words that could form in her mind. Snape's dead. She didn't cry, didn't feel anything at the moment. There was nothing but an emptiness within her, similar to that which she had felt when she'd found out he'd killed Dumbledore.
She wandered out into the entrance hall and sat down at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Her eyes were wide open, but they were as unseeing as those of Colin Creevey and all the other corpses that were scattered on the grounds. After a minute or so, she was finally able to form a coherent thought, and it was that she'd never get to have that open, honest conversation that she'd so desired. Never get to tell him that she'd found out his big secret, so he could stop bullshitting now. Never flirt and banter and try to get a rise out of him. Never have that feeling that she wasn't just another student to him, but somebody special - the one who he had called to his quarters the previous year when he didn't want to be alone.
Alone. That was how he'd died. With everybody hating him, none of them knowing that he wasn't the cruel, cold-hearted murderer he'd tricked them all into believing he was. Nobody on his side, except her - but he'd never known that for the last five months, there was somebody who still cared about him.
The Shrieking Shack. That's were Ron said it had happened. And that was where Callie suddenly found herself standing, having Apparated into the dirty, darkened old house.
The Dark Lord could still be here, she realized, holding her wand at the ready and moving slowly down the hallway. But despite the extreme danger that she may have just put herself in, she had to find Snape, had to see him, had to bring him back and lay him with the others. He had given his life for the Light Side just as they had. He deserved a place among the rest, not in a filthy, decrepit shack.
There was dim light coming from a room up ahead, and she made her way towards it, her heart pounding in her chest. If the Dark Lord or any of his followers were in there, then she was almost certainly going to be killed. Pressing up against the wall, she listened for any signs of life - footsteps, breathing - but it was silent. With a deep breath, she moved to the doorway and looked in.
There he was, lying in a bloody, crumpled mess on the floor.
She felt as if she were going to be sick, leaning up against the doorframe and doubling over. She covered her mouth and shut her eyes, suddenly praying that this entire night had been one extremely vivid, wildly horrifying nightmare. She wanted to drop to the ground and give up, let whatever was going to happen happen, and wait for somebody to show up and kill her, too.
But instead she went into the room and knelt beside him, her face soaked with tears. The wound in his neck was still seeping blood, and she put one hand to it, running the other over his hair. "I knew," she muttered in Greek. "I knew you were good." She leaned over to press her face against his, shutting her eyes against the tears that fell.
And then she felt it, the very faintest sensation of warm air against her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked down at his open mouth, then held her hand over it.
Again, the slightest hint of warmth. She bolted up, pressing her fingers against the spot where a pulse would be - where it was. Barely detectable, weak... but still there.
"Oh, my God," she breathed, yanking off her backpack and reaching for the bottle of blood-replenishing potion she'd taken from the hospital wing. She poured about a quarter of it down his throat, then conjured a rag and held it against his neck.
"You stubborn bastard," she said, grabbing his wrist to check his pulse once again. "You are not dying. God damn it, you are not dying!"
She spent the next five minutes trying to close up the wound with a stitching spell, but despite the fact that she'd done it several times while working in the hospital wing, it somehow wasn't working now. "Son of a bitch!" she yelled, conjuring a second rag to try and stop the flow of blood. The first one had already been soaked through, and ten minutes later, a third one was needed.
Shaking her head in frustration, she gave him another dose of blood-replenisher. "Wake up and tell me what to do," she ordered the unconscious man. His pulse was still nowhere near normal, but perhaps a few more beats per minute than when she'd first checked. Glancing down at her watch, she saw that the hour had passed. Shit, he's coming. She looked out the window towards the castle, but all was quiet. What if he comes back here first? He'll kill us both.
She buried her face in her hands, her head spinning. One thing at a time, she thought. I've gotta stop the bleeding. She racked her brain, going through everything she'd ever learned about healing, every spell that she knew, and then it hit her.
Cardiostasis. The very spell he had taught her himself. "Keep the blood from pumping - by stopping the heart." She had done it successfully with Katie; she could do it now. "Perhaps an hour, possibly two, before death occurs."
It wouldn't completely stop the bleeding, but it should slow it down significantly. If she kept up with the blood-replenishing potion, maybe that would be enough to keep him alive until...
Until what? He needed a proper healer; she had to get Pomfrey down here. But if she left now, he might bleed out and die before she got back. The third rag was now soaked. Do something! she told herself.
She conjured two more rags, doubled them up, and tied them around his neck over the wound. The X-ray charm showed his slowly-beating heart. Shutting her eyes, she muttered, "Please, God," and held her wand over his chest.
You've got it in you. Winslow said so. "It takes the right mindset and motivation." She sure as hell had that right now. The idea that Severus Snape was going to live to see another day was fueling every fiber of her being. He was not dying tonight.
She opened her eyes, took a breath, and shouted, "Arresto cardia!"
One more shallow thump, and his heart went still.
One hour. Possibly two. Plenty of time to get Pomfrey. But just as she was about to get back on her feet...
"Harry Potter is dead."
Callie had shouted "Avada Kedavra!" and jerked her wand towards the doorway before the voice had gotten through the first word. Once again, however, it was only a disembodied voice. She was alone with Snape and no one else.
"He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."
Again, Callie shut her eyes. From the moment of the Dark Lord's last message, she'd had the feeling that Harry was not going to live through this. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the boy had not attempted to flee. He'd probably sauntered right up to his greatest enemy and told him to kill him. He would absolutely sacrifice himself to save the rest of them.
"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."
She looked down at Snape, wondering whether she ought to stay with him or rejoin the others. There was no way in hell that this was over. They were not going to accept defeat and bow to the Dark Lord, to let Harry's death be in vain. She checked her watch. One hour. I'll come back in an hour with Pomfrey. She gave him one final dose of the blood-replenisher, squeezed his hand, and said, "You're going to be all right. I'm coming back." She stood up, thinking that if she died, then he would too.
Then you'd better keep your arse alive, she told herself. Now let's try and put an end to this shit. With one last glance at the headmaster, she made the sign of the cross, then Disapparated.
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Author's note: Of course I wasn't going to kill Snape off. Sorry to go off-canon, but he's much too fascinating a character. On that note, now would be a good time to say that I have a sequel planned. But first, there are three more chapters left of this story. I hope you enjoy it. And please review :)