The Grave
Sometimes – well many times if I'm being honest – I wonder how this is my life…how I got into this situation. How did I end up with the Dursleys? How was I a witch? Why did Voldemort keep coming after me? What was the purpose of it all?
It was the how's, why's, and what's that governed my existence. Like this moment, for example. I was staring at Snape's body, cleared of snow and pale in death, while Snape also sat on the lip of the nest directing me with harsh words overlaying his soft tone.
How was this my life?
I spent most of the day digging the grave next to where I had buried the three dead hatchlings. The more time I spent blasting a hole in the ice, the longer I could put off dealing with the actual body. Snape had just watched me bombard the ground with explosive spells without comment. I did it partially for the emotional release of it…but also because the ice was thick, and my reserves were still not fully recovered.
I took my time with the grave, trying to get the rectangular feel to it and not just a crater blasted in to the ground…but Snape knew I was just stalling. I could tell by the glances he kept giving me as I argued with him over appropriate depth and shape of the grave. But he let me take my time, his gaze soft as he said nothing. The longer I spent digging the grave the less I had to deal with the corpse.
"I think that's deep enough," Snape's voice startled me out of my melancholy. I hadn't realized I had just been standing at the edge of the hole staring at it. I turned to look at him, the body I mean, as Snape fluttered out of the nest and trotted over to my side.
I didn't even blink when he just started to climb up my side. I was starting to get used to him doing that. Snape hated when he had to ask to be lifted, and he knew that I really didn't mind him using me as a perch, so he just did as he pleased. If I told him to stop, I had no doubt he would, but I never did. His miniscule weight and physical presence were too comforting in this desolate land to confront him about it. I was afraid that if I embarrassed him enough, he would cease.
To be honest though, I'm not entirely certain he did it more for himself or for me.
Merlin, I missed people. I missed Ron clapping me on the shoulder as we laughed, running down the hall. I missed Hermione's long nails carding through my hair to braid it out of my face. I missed Ginny throwing herself into my lap so hard I bruised as she told me about her day. I missed Luna grabbing my hand and holding it as she chattered about another creature I'm pretty certain was made up. I even missed Draco shoving me from behind as his group laughed at his new insult.
I missed my dorm, and my bed, the food, the great hall, and the candles. I missed classes, and detentions, and homework. I just…I just wanted to go home.
"Potter," Snape's attention drew me back and scrubbed a hand over my face. I knew that if I left the tears to dry, they would freeze. God, I missed the heat the most. "Potter," he tried again, and I tilted my head to let him know I was listening. "I know this isn't easy," he started, but stopped when I started to laugh. It sounded bitter.
"Is that empathy I'm hearing from you, Professor? Why I never," the words were mocking, but they sounded choked and stilted. Snape only sighed at my tone and didn't comment about it.
I was surprised, I had never failed to work him up before. Usually I just had to breathe in his presence. I couldn't believe I was thinking it, but I also missed how Snape used to treat me. This gentleness was nice, but it wasn't us. We were angry words and heated glares. We were vailed insults, harsh tones, and vague threats. This new us…I didn't know what to think about this new us.
I wondered if we got home would we go back to being what we were, or would we be this new thing – him being concerned and gentle, me being teasing and curious. If we got back…
"Don't be difficult," he chided softly, shuffling on my shoulder in the way that I knew meant he was uncomfortable. "This is your first body –"
"No, it isn't," I interrupted, my tone bland as I continued to just stare at it.
For something so small, he could certainly give off a heavy sigh…it left him like a gasp, almost violent. I couldn't tell if he was exasperated, pitying, or angry. I didn't want to know. Part of me wished he would just yell or something, give me detention and tell me to get out of sight.
"Professor Quirrell?" Snape asked gently, but I only gave him a half shrug. It was enough to get my point across that I didn't want to talk about it, but also subtle to not dislodge him. While Quirrell had been my first real body, I didn't mention my mum. I suppose she was my first body, but I only remember her begging screams and that green light.
"Amanda Knox," he commented after a long while of silence. It was starting to darken out once more and I knew I would soon have to do something or there would be no more daylight. I didn't want to spend another night thinking about how I needed to bury him tomorrow. It was best I just get it done, but still I couldn't seem to move.
"Hmm?" I hummed in question, my eyes flicking back to him before settling once more on the body.
"She was a year above me," he continued. "A Hufflepuff in the sixth year. She was bullied a lot, had a birthmark on her face that was shaped somewhat phallic in a certain light, if you squinted, I suppose. They called her Amanda Cocks. The other Hufflepuff's tried to shield her, but not all. She killed herself. I found her at the base of the Astronomy Tower."
Oh, he was sharing his first death with me. I blinked in surprise, turning back to look at him from the corner of my eye. Snape shifted, his tail tightening on my bicep as he shuffled down until he was settled on my forearm. It was easier to see him now, but it was also easier for him to see me. He looked…sad.
"I thought the Astronomy Tower had like, safety wards or something," I waved my hand around as I remembered Professor Sinistra talking about it during one of the first classes I took back when I was eleven.
"They do now," Snape replied, and I winced at the blasé tone. I wondered what a fall like that could do to a person, and then promptly turned green at the thought.
"I'm sorry," I told him. It was the only thing I could think of to say, and yet it felt so inadequate.
Snape blinked at me, his lids moving with exaggerated slowness as his nictitating membrane peeled away. "So am I," he replied softly. "For what you are doing, and what you must yet to do."
I tilted my head at him like he did me, in that quizzical fashion. I knew all of this made him uncomfortable, but I couldn't figure out why he was the one apologizing to me. It's not like any of this was his fault. No, this was entirely my fuck up.
"I need you to do something, before you bury my body," he continued and a started to nod my head in understanding. It never occurred to me that he might have been religious, I wondered what words he wanted me to say. "There are things, things we may yet need…in the pockets."
Wait…what?
My eyes widened as I realized what it was he was talking about. "No," I exhaled the word like it was a force, like saying it could make what he wanted disappear.
"Potter," I shook my head at him, and he sighed as he tried again. "Harielle, I know you don't want to do this."
"I'm not doing this."
"Yes, you are!" He snapped, his tiny little teeth snapping at me. But I was still shaking my head at him, my eyes wide, and I had started to tremble. "Hari," Snape softened his tone, but I didn't want to hear what he was going to say, didn't want to think about what he wanted me to do. "We may yet need what's on my body."
"What could we possibly need?!" I didn't quite wail the question. I couldn't believe he was asking me to do this.
"There are potions," because of course there are. Snape was the kind of person that would carry around an arsenal of potions. "And my wand may be useful…you also need to take my robe."
Oh god, I was going to be sick. Not only did he want me to loot his body, but he wanted me to strip it as well. "No, absolutely not…I won't…I can't!"
"You have to," his claws dug into my exposed wrist and I could feel the pinpricks of pain. It helped to ground me. "It's been five days. We may have longer yet to wait. We need what my corpse carries."
"Please," I whispered the word. It sounded soft and broken to even my own ears. I ducked my head so he couldn't see my tears. "Please don't make me do this."
I felt my hair move and a soft touch on my face. My blurry eyes opened to see his head retreating from where he had bumped my cheek. "I would do this if I could, if only so you wouldn't have to," he whispered the words and my eyes clenched shut again as hot tears poured down my cheeks. "But I can't…and so you must."
He was right, I knew that. We had been here too long already, and like he said we had longer yet to wait. What his body carried could be important, but by Merlin I didn't want too. I sighed, exhaling as if I could rid myself of the sick feeling that had settled low in my stomach.
It took several long moments to finally start moving towards the body. The sky had darkened considerably before I stopped next to it and knelt. Snape shimmied down my arm and onto the snow next to the head of his corpse. I wondered briefly what it must be like for him to be in a new body and staring at his old one, but then I remembered what I was doing, and I no longer cared.
My hands were shaking as I lifted them, and I would have been embarrassed if I wasn't still so nauseous. His body was so cold compared to the heat he put off in his dragon form. It felt like I was touching a doll made of ice. I set my hand on his side – away from the wound – for a long moment before I finally peeled back the robe to reach into the pockets.
There was a surprising number of things shoved into the tiny compartments. I found seven vials, two of which Snape told me were extremely dangerous poisons…so I handled them with the utmost care. There was a letter from McGonagall that I read out loud only once Snape asked me too. My Head of House had given it to him at the start of the First Task and he had yet to read it.
It took my cold trembling fingers a long while to unfold it without damaging the paper. The shape of it was in the head of a lion and I wondered if McGonagall practiced origami or if she knew of a spell to do it. The eyes would blink ever few moments and the mouth would open in a yawn to show the teeth. Once I started to unfold it, the animation stopped, and I frowned as I briefly regretted destroying whatever charm had been placed on it.
It contained a wager on the Tri-Wizard champion and pointed threats on next year's Quidditch Cup. I blinked in surprise as the words brought a smile to my face. I didn't know my Head of House could be so…childish. I wondered if Snape was the same way.
I folded the letter in a simple trifold, unable to return it to the original lion's head even though I had tried to pay careful attention when I had started. The skill level was beyond me though, so I just settled for stuffing it into my pocket and hoping it didn't crinkle. Maybe Snape would know the spell to refold and reanimate it?
A glimmer of light caught my attention and I saw a silver pocket watch was clipped to the vest of his teaching robes. Though Snape didn't say anything as I pulled it out and undid the clasp, I could tell it was important to him. I tried to examine it without being too obvious, but it joined the letter before I could settle my curiosity. My fingers had finally stopped trembling, but I did another quick pat down before settling onto my heels and sighing in relief when I felt nothing else in the pockets.
"My wand," Snape's voice pulled me out of my reprieve, and I groaned in annoyance when I realized I hadn't found it. "It's on my–the wrist, in a holster. There's a concealment spell, you'll need to break it. It should be easy since I'm…well…"
"Dead," I supplied, voice morose as I pulled the right sleeve back. It didn't take much effort. It looked like Snape had tried to shield himself with his arms, the sleeves of the robe were in complete tatters.
"Yes, well…I suppose," he replied. He sounded confused and I felt sympathy for him. "I don't know how it works since the body is dead but the soul lives." Snape sounded almost more fascinated by the conundrum than glum. Of course, he was.
"Would it still be there?" I asked curiously. He had been holding his wand at the time of his death after all and it was nowhere to be found around the body.
"It's spelled to return to the holster once I release it," he replied and tilted my head to take in the pale wrist. I couldn't even feel an armguard there.
"What spell?" I asked him, my voice dead tired. I just wanted to be done.
"Try finite incantatum."
I could tell from his tone that he wasn't entirely certain it would work, but after I had cast it – and then recast it with Snape instructing me the 'proper' way to do it – a black leather armguard appeared. It was quite beautiful, solid black with lines etched in a subtle dark blue. They looked runic, but honestly Hermione had always been better at runes than I. She could have told me what they meant.
The wand, just as black, was situated on the inside of the wrist and I realized I would have to move him in order to detach the holster. With careful fingers I lifted the cold arm. It was stiff, from death or being out in the elements I wasn't certain, but it just felt strange. The clasps came undone after several clumsy attempts and the holster with the wand dropped into my lap.
I set the arm back down and then turned to Snape, lost on what to do next. It was his wand, and touching someone's wand just felt…wrong. Even when Ollivander – the man who made my wand – had to handle it for the weighing ceremony, made my skin crawl.
"You can touch it," Snape supplied after a long moment. He must have known of my discomfort. "Attach it to your off wrist, it will resize." His voice sounded hesitant and strained…I guess I wasn't the only one put off by me handling his wand, but I did as he said. As I got the holster situated, it automatically changed shape and size, buckling itself into place and then quite suddenly disappearing from my sight.
I waved my arm around, amazed by the charm work. I couldn't even feel it. My wrist snapped back, and the black wand slapped into my palm. The rush of power that swept through me made my fingers tingle and stole the breath from my lungs. Sparks lit from the end and my hair blew in the wind made from the magical connection. I dropped the wand in surprise and it immediately returned to the holster. Nifty spell crafting, that was.
"Well," Snape's tone was dry and curious. "At least your compatible." Shame filled me as I flicked my wrist again to get used to the offhand summon. I examined it quickly, running my fingers over the black wood and carved handle. Like the holster they appeared to be runes of some sort, but I couldn't identify them.
I gently eased it back into the armguard, not wanting to appear too curious about Snape's wand with the man – well dragon – watching me. I handled it with more care than I did my own as I wondered if I would have been well-matched before I had a piece of his soul merged with mine. And he still didn't know…
I knew I would have to tell him, but not yet.
"Okay," I whispered shakily, my body still humming with the magical buzz I had just gotten from the wand. For a moment, the almost familiar magic had made me feel like I was back home, in the common room at Hogwarts. I rubbed at my chest with a closed fist, willing the sensation away. It wouldn't do to dwell on such a thing at this moment. "What now?"
Snape was examining me curiously, and I could see his mind working behind the glowing eyes. Eventually he would put the pieces together, he seemed like a problem solver. I remembered the riddle from first year with the potion bottles. Definitely loved logic puzzles, and here I was presenting him with another one.
"Snape," I asked again to get his attention away from the mystery he was thinking about. I needed to tell him…just not yet. "What now?"
He turned back to the body, tilting his head side to side. "The robe," he replied after a moment.
"Can't we just leave it?" I begged softly, desperately wishing to just bury the body and be done with it. I didn't want to have to strip it too.
"No," Snape replied, looking back at me with his dual colored eyes. "It has spells, enchantments. It will help protect you and keep you warm."
That got my attention. I hadn't felt warm since we arrived here. Even with the heating charm it was just a little too cold. And I was constantly having to replace it. I think I must have cast it nearly twenty times already today. "But the sleeves," I argued, gesturing to the ruined sections. They would not be salvageable.
"You may remove them," Snape supplied, bringing a clawed wing up to tug at the fabric with his thumbs. "If you separate them by the seams, the enchantments should remain undisturbed."
I groaned loudly to let my displeasure be known, but I started to remove the robe as he said. I cast mobilicorpus, a spell I had seen before but never cast myself, to float the body. When it was at waist level, pulling the robes off became a lot easier. Once it was removed, I used another household spell, for tailoring this time, and separated the arms of the fabric from the torso.
I dropped the robe in a pile next to the discarded fabric of the arms and flicked my wand to lower the body in the hole, only releasing the spell once it was at the bottom. I stood there for several seconds, watching the body in the hole as if something was going to happen…but nothing did.
Snape crawled back up to my shoulder and peered at it with me. "Should I, uh…say something?" I asked hesitantly. He gave me a sidelong glance and snorted at me to let me know exactly what he thought of that. "Well, excuse me. This isn't really something I've done before."
He sighed, the heat from him warming the side of my face next to him like the sun. "Just bury it." Snape replied after a long moment of staring at what used to be him.
I nodded, raised my wand back up and flicked it quickly. We both watched as ice covered the body, encasing it like a coffin, before the snow I had dug out came rushing back in. It was over in seconds; the ground lay flat and bare before us as if there was nothing inside at all.
Snape fluttered down from my shoulder, making his way over to the robes as I just continued to stare at the grave. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that he was distracted with the fabric, pulling at it with his tiny claws. I drew out the other wand, his wand, and cast a quick protection ward followed by a stasis. I could feel the magic searching out for the body before it settled. It was easier with the black wand, as the body had once been its master and it instinctively knew what to look for.
It wasn't much, but if Dumbledore found us, Snape may have wanted his body returned to England to be properly buried.
I quickly slapped the black wand back into the holster before ripping another piece of red fabric that was coming undone from my trousers and stuck it to the snow roughly where the head would be. Another quick stasis with a repelling spell would hopefully keep it visible until the body could be recovered.
After that I moved back over to the nest and did my nightly check before recasting the heating rune. I grabbed the robe, bundling Snape up into it as he had been on top of the fabric, and laughing lightly at his squawk of protest. The laughter felt hollow, but it was better than crying again.
Snape pried himself free, hissing and growling as he fluttered to the ground and glared up at me. I turned my attention to the sky, watching the flakes drift down slowly. There was a break in the clouds, and just for a moment I could see the stars starting to peak out as the sun finally set. I squinted up at them turning my head curiously at the sight before the grey clouds rolled back in to cover the hole that had been made.
"Potter!" Snape's voice called to me and I turned to see his purple–blue fin at the end of his tail disappear down the tunnel. I followed him, shoving the robes in first as I slid down into the cave on my stomach. I settled in for the night, grabbing another book as I pulled the robes on top of me like a blanket, but I couldn't help the nagging feeling that something about the stars had seemed…off.
