Chapter 10: Revelations II
A/N: Thank you's to my wonderful beta, Janeaverage, and to my readers and reviewers!
Snape returned from a summons; Emma nursed him back to health and demanded an explanation.
He had demanded time to shower and change before they talked. In reality, he needed time to think. For he had taken last night's punishment for her; the Dark Lord knew about her existence at Hogwarts and her apparent closeness to him. Draco, he thought bitterly. That brat is up to something. He won't meet with me to discuss his situation, and yet he runs and squeals to the Death Eaters about Emma.
Snape had closed his mind to the Dark Lord and feigned ignorance of the bracelet, but at great physical cost to himself. Goyle and Macnair suspected him of thwarting their plans in New York and had said so. After his punishment, Voldemort ordered him, ironically, to keep Emma close by and safe until he had a plan for regaining the Horcrux without destroying it.
Snape heard the swish of the Floo Network in the sitting room fireplace and strode out of his bedroom. Emma was already sitting on the leather couch, an expectant look on her face. Dumbledore's head appeared in the flames.
"Severus, my dear boy, I've just returned to the castle. Minerva tells me you were called out last night. Do you have anything to report?"
Not even bothering to inquire about my health anymore, Albus? Snape thought bitterly.
"Yes, Headmaster, the Dark Lord knows about Emma's presence here. He has asked me to keep her close by and safe."
"Oh my, Severus, the irony abounds!" Dumbledore replied jovially. "I did have another message for you both. We will need to meet after dinner in my office. We are ready to help Emma at last!" Dumbledore exited the Floo and Snape sat down to meet his fate.
He knew he owed her the truth, albeit the highly abridged version. He fully anticipated her wanting to have nothing to do with him after their talk. Thus, he began the conversation by offering her another suite of rooms closer to Minerva's. Confused, she declined, and threw him off balance when she gently requested, "Severus, show me your Dark Mark."
Startled, he complied, reluctantly pulling up his left sleeve. She leaned across his lap to get a better view. She touched the Mark with a hesitant finger. Immediately, he recoiled, jerking his arm away, but stilled himself and returned his arm to her, holding it like a peace offering. Emma looked up and saw a brightness in his eyes—unshed tears, or reflected light from the fire, she could not tell.
"And this burns when you are summoned to Voldemort?"
"My, my, the staff has been thorough with you," he said disgustedly. "What else would you like to know, Madam, or do you know the whole story already?"
She narrowed her eyes and replied, "Severus, from what you explained in New York, and what questions of mine Dumbledore has answered, and, yes, from faculty gossip, I've come to the conclusion you are a spy. You were a Death Eater, and have done some horrible things. But something, I think your innate goodness—" Snape snorted in disgust at this "—compelled you to seek the Light. Since then, you have lived an incredibly dangerous double life, appeasing two capricious masters."
"Capricious? My dear, you have more insight into Dumbledore's 'truth' than many who have known him all his life."
"Severus, it's obvious that you, and I, and even he, is ultimately expendable to the cause."
Snape hung his head and breathed deeply to regain his control. How did this Muggle woman know so much? Did she know of the Vow he had taken? That if called to satisfy it, his life would be over, living or dead?
He cupped Emma's cheek and turned her head to meet his. "Emma, you understand far more than I gave you credit for. You must realize that we cannot be together. I have made a Vow, an Unbreakable Vow, which guarantees I have no future. Have mercy on me and leave me alone in peace. It's cruel to dangle happiness in front of me when I cannot have it."
"Severus, I'm falling in love with you!" Emma said fiercely. "Can we not get through this together?"
"NO! It is already beyond us," Snape replied bitterly, moving away from her, dropping his head into his hands. "And, more to the point, you don't truly know me. Severus Snape is a dark and evil and singular creature, with no hope of redemption. You have fallen in love with 'Steven,' a man I wish I could be for you but can't."
I don't believe him, Emma thought fiercely, I can't. No one can live without hope.
"Severusyou are 'Steven'—he is a part of you just as equally as Snape, the caustic, sarcastic ex-Death Eater. Choose to love. Choose to live. If I have learned anything from my family's deaths, it's that love needs to be embraced when you find it, fiercely. Let's seek what happiness we can find together. Do you love me, Severus?"
Snape's dark eyes glittered as he lifted his head to lock his eyes with her lighter ones. "Yes." Oh, gods, yes. More than she'll ever know.
Emma turned to kneel on the couch, and straddled his lap. She looked deep into his soul. "Make love to me, Severus."
He pushed her off his lap, stood, swept her off her feet and carried her into his bedchamber.
They walked slowly to Dumbledore's office. Emma had been too nervous to eat anything at dinner. Snape had made sure she was well hydrated and had her drink a nourishment potion.
While they walked Snape outlined his part of the process. "Over the past three weeks I have brewed a complex potion for Soul-Binding. This potion was originally created for Dark Arts practitioners, to secure their souls while doing magic of untold evil. It will ensure that you leave the process wholly you."
When they reached Dumbledore's office, Snape whispered, "Licorice whips," and they entered. The room was more dimly lit than usual. Dumbledore's desk was moved. In its place was a chaise surrounded by five straight-backed chairs, four occupied by members of 'the team.' They all rushed to greet her and hug her, comforting her with their friendship.
Dumbledore stood and spoke. "Tonight, we sail into uncharted magical territory, to help the newest member of our Hogwarts family. It is crucial to the process that there is absolute trust and a feeling of love in the room tonight. Rowena Ravenclaw, in her brilliance, devised enchantments which can only be broken by those working with purity of heart and soul. Emma, if you would lie down, we will begin."
Emma sat nervously. She was trembling and did not think she could go through with it. If the bracelet was so protective of her, could it be a bad thing to keep? But of course, she knew the answer. For Voldemort to be defeated, for her and Severus to have a chance, this Horcrux had to be destroyed.
Snape saw her distress and instinctively moved to sit down next to her. In relief she leaned into him. He enveloped her in his arms.
"Albus, since my part in the process is completed already, I think I should hold Emma and comfort her. Her willingness is crucial to the outcome."
"Yes, Severus, by all means."
Snape reclined on the chaise, parted his long legs and pulled her back to his chest, gripping her tightly around the waist. She settled into him with a sigh, feeling his warmth and love. She relaxed. He placed a large purple velvet pillow tenderly under her left arm, supporting her braceleted wrist. 'The team' all smiled to themselves, both pleased and astonished to witness the intimacy between Emma and the notoriously private Snape.
Bill cleared his throat and began. "Emma, I'm just the backup here. I have a Soul-Catcher in case Voldemort's soul escapes the Horcrux at any time during the ritual."
Bill held up what appeared to be a lap-sized golden harp. Looking directly through the strings Emma could see swirling, multi-colored, sparkling air particles, though viewed from any other perspective it looked like a tiny traditional harp.
"Now, William, no need for modesty here. Emma, William was the one who pulled all our disparate elements together to help you," Minerva said proudly.
"One hundred points to Gryffindor," Snape said, smirking.
Bill just laughed at his former Potions Professor, now his equal in the war against Voldemort.
Minerva took Emma's right hand in hers. "My dear, we need to transform this bracelet into something else, to loosen the Charms inherent in it. The desire to transform it has to come from your mind. I need you to think of an object, small enough to stay on your wrist, that is a receptacle of some sort. This object needs to be something special to you, something you cherish."
Emma immediately thought of a small, wildly colored fimo clay pot her sons had made for her for Mother's Day. The pot had a lid and was meant to hold rings and other small trinkets. They had inscribed their names into the side in their uncertain beginning printing.
"Okay, Minerva, I'm ready."
"Emma, focus on that object to the exclusion of all else."
Emma tried hard to block out the room and her situation and the person holding onto her for dear life. She pictured the pot, pictured herself tracing over the names as she had so often done, felt the round and mostly smooth texture of the pot in her hand. She saw herself lifting the lid to peer inside. She briefly registered Minerva's wand gently tapping the bracelet. Emma felt the bracelet tingling and then felt the weight of the pot on top of her wrist. Opening her eyes, she saw the little pot, fastened to her wrist by a pulsing, golden band of light.
Minerva's eyes glistened with tears as she sat back, her part complete.
Severus shifted and took a delicate silver goblet from a small table next to them. He handed it to her, saying, "Emma, you know that this potion is precautionary in nature. Its effects will last only one hour. To make it more palatable, I have decanted the active ingredients into ginger ale, your favorite." He smiled sadly, then kissed the top of her head. "Now, bottoms up, dear heart."
Emma quickly drank the fizzy concoction. The ginger ale did not totally mask the bitterness. She turned and kissed him quickly on the lips, muttering, "Thank you."
Next Dumbledore spoke. "Emma, Filius and I will perform some very ancient, complex, and lengthy Charms. This spell is a compendium of many sources. You will hear some recognizable Latin, some Middle English, Old French, and Elvish. We have done our best to assure your safety, but I have to warn you there is still some danger inherent in magic so profound. Do you wish to continue?" he inquired gently, leaning down to look into her eyes.
"Yes, Albus, I accept the risks and have full trust in your and Filius' abilities."
"Excellent. Filius? Are you ready?"
Flitwick nodded his assent and reached his tiny hand to pat Emma's knee. He smiled reassuringly at her. With a flick of his wand a three-foot parchment appeared and hung in the air before the two wizards. They started chanting, mingling their voices and magic and power, with a slow cadence at first, picking up speed as they progressed.
Emma felt heavier, weighted down, sleepy. Probably from Severus' potion, she thought. As the chanting progressed, she became disoriented. She felt herself rising from the chaise, through Severus' increasing grip, until she was floating above her body. The room started to spin. She became dizzy and sick to her stomach. She began to moan, and vaguely could feel Severus running his hands up and down her arms, trying to ground her to his touch. He flung his legs over hers as he realized she was only partially there with them. The incantations increased in speed and volume and she felt a ripping, a tearing, a blinding flash of pain and color.
Everyone but Severus was on their feet, wands raised in the electrically charged air, Bill frantically scanning the room for any sign of Voldemort's soul. A low keening sound registered in Dumbledore's mind and brought him back. The source of the keening was Severus. Emma was limp and unbreathing in his arms. "No, don't leave me! Don't! Albus, do something!"
The old wizard put his hand on Emma's head and whispered frantically. Seconds passed by, feeling like hours. Then with a whole-body spasm, Emma sharply inhaled and struggled against Severus' grip. Everyone exhaled in relief.
"Emma! Emma! Are you all right? Speak to me!" demanded Dumbledore.
"Albus, I'm okay," Emma said weakly. "What happened to the trinket box?"
They turned to focus on the multi-colored clay pot. Gingerly, Dumbledore reached out and easily lifted the object from her wrist. He handed it to Bill, who placed it on top of the strings of the Soul Catcher. The harp-like object began to hum and vibrate and with a whoosh the pot disappeared between the strings. The Soul Catcher glowed a sickening shade of green.
"Emma, his soul is captured now. You're safe," said Bill, securing the Soul Catcher into a large, lidded, black onyx box on Dumbledore's desk.
Severus reached up and brought her left wrist to his lips. "It's over, now, darling, it's over," he mumbled.
Poppy Pomfrey Floo'd in to check Emma's condition. She was too professional to register shock at Emma's and Severus' intimate pose and without a word performed diagnostic tests.
Soon Poppy proclaimed, "She seems to be well but exhausted, and still under the effects of a potion I can't identify. She needs nourishment and sleep. I will need to check on her once an hour for the next twenty-four hours. I'll take her up to the hospital wing."
"NO!" Severus commanded. "I will take care of her, Poppy," he said more gently. "I will call you if you are needed."
Poppy hmmmffed! and left by Floo.
"Emma, do you think you can walk?" Severus breathed into her hair. She struggled to sit and quickly realized she did not have enough strength to stand. Severus stood, reached down, gathered her in his arms and strode to the fireplace. He turned back to face his colleagues.
"Thank you . . . for everything you have done tonight. You secured the Horcrux and you have saved . . . the most precious person in my life."
