Chapter 36

Sacrifices

Skin the colour of sour milk, lips tinted blue. His arms fell limp side to side as he levitated, being carried by Slughorn's wand to the hospital wing.

Laurel would have believed Ron was dead if it weren't for the fact that she could still register the weak pulse and the boy's rapid, shallow breathing.

Harry ran after them, ignoring the screams and panicked looks from the students who crossed his path.

"Don't die, Ron. Don't die." - He repeated through gritted teeth.

A visceral wound opened up again in his memory the moment Ron began to convulse. The dry noise of his body falling to the ground reminded him of Cedric. It reminded him of that night in Little Hangleton. It reminded him of the hissing voice commanding Peter Pettigrew:

"Kill the spare".

A flash of green light and Cedric's body collapsed next to him with the same thud that now echoed in his eardrums.

Harry then looked at the woman with long brown hair who was checking his best friend's pulse.

It had been her. She was there in the office, the bottle of mead within her reach. She knew about potions and poisons. She was in the seventh-floor hallway with Malfoy. She, like Peter Pettigrew, obeyed Lord Voldemort's orders.

Harry was sure. It was Laurel Noel, Snape's assistant, who had administered the poison. But why Ron? It didn't make sense. It must have been a mistake; his friend was not the target of the attack.

Harry swallowed.

The target might be himself.

Laurel was attempting to assassinate The Chosen One on Voldemort's behalf. But no, it was not possible. How would she know that they would show up at the office? It was just a coincidence that Ron ate the chocolates laced with love potion that Romilda Vane had sent him weeks ago. The target then must be someone else.

Slughorn.

Why? Was she aware of the memory that Slughorn was jealously guarding and that he was unable to get? Dumbledore had said that the memory of Slughorn explaining to a young Tom Riddle about Horcruxes was of the utmost importance. But would it really be important enough to want to silence Slughorn with deadly poison? How could the Akardos be cold-blooded enough to commit a murder right under Dumbledore's nose?

He had underestimated her. This innocent-looking woman had the guts to not only slip a poison to the potions master himself in front of two witnesses, but also to stand by her victim, feigning concern as he fought to stay alive.

They had finally reached the infirmary and seeing how the woman extended her arms to accommodate Ron's body on one of the beds Harry couldn't control himself. He roughly pushed her away.

"Get away from him!" — He yelled, feeling his face flush with anger. — "It was you! You've done this to Ron!"

Laurel gasped as she fell backwards and could only look up at Harry in shock, trying to make sense of the words the young man was shouting at her.

"Harry, m'boy, get a hold of yourself!" — Pleaded Slughorn, still holding the bottle of mead.

The young wizard did not hear him. Anger and outrage filled his chest. It was enough. He knew that Malfoy was a Death Eater, he knew that Snape had offered to help him carry out his plan, and he knew that Laurel obeyed whatever order came out of Snape's mouth. If Dumbledore insisted on ignoring the facts, he would have to be the one to do justice.

He drew her wand and pointed it at Laurel, who instinctively scooted back, her eyes wide at the surreal situation.

"It was you!" — Harry yelled. — "It was you who put the poison in the bottle! Voldemort order it!"

Slughorn swallowed, glancing back and forth between the bottle in his hand and the woman on the floor.

"But m'boy... She hasn't touched the bottle".

His wand's grip languished for an instant, but Harry's conviction was soon reasserted. His friend was about to die and he had the culprit in front of him. He wasn't going to let her run away.

Suddenly the noise of agitated footsteps and a severe voice made him turn his head.

"Put that wand down this very instant, Mr. Potter".

"Professor McGonagall, you must hear me. She tried to poison…"

"Don't you dare make that accusation." -The woman cut him off, also raising her wand. — "I will not repeat myself a third time. Put. The wand. Down".

"But it's obvious it was her!"

The witch drew herself up tall, glaring at Harry. She knew that her dearest Gryffindor tended to break the rules and act impulsively, but this was the last straw.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor." — Exclaimed McGonagall indignantly. — "You are in no position to point fingers and blame anyone without definitive proof, Potter. The headmaster will be here soon. He will decide".

Harry didn't lower his wand and instead of walking away he moved closer to the Akardos who made no attempt to get up.

Laurel still couldn't understand why Harry was accusing her so vehemently.

"It wasn't me." - She muttered. — "I did not poison Ron".

"Was it Malfoy then?" — Harry snapped. — "Is it part of his plan?"

Laurel couldn't even open her mouth to answer when a black figure barrelled into the infirmary like thunder.

Severus Snape stepped between them, kneeling in front of her. His dark eyes made sure that she was safe and conscious.

Just a few minutes earlier Severus had been in the headmaster's office when the portraits gave notice that another attack had taken place and that this time the Weasley boy had been harmed.

"It seems Draco has failed again" — Dumbledore mentioned as they headed to the infirmary.

Severus stared at him for a moment, surprised by the calm tone of the headmaster's voice. Sometimes he was able to perceive those flashes of tarnished morality, those fleeting traits of indifference to the well-being of the people around him. Severus could understand that being the mastermind of the resistance, Dumbledore had to keep a cool head and nerves of steel. However, the apathy with which he treated the fates of his followers reminded him of the Dark Lord's wickedness.

He nodded his head and turned his gaze to the floor, counting the rectangles of light that the sun's rays drew through the windows, thinking of everything he was willing to sacrifice to destroy Voldemort.

Until very recently he was convinced that when the time came, he would execute the headmaster as he had requested. He didn't care about desecrating the integrity of his soul or risking his life by following Albus Dumbledore's orders.

Until a few months ago, he was sure that his loyalty to the old wizard was unwavering, that he didn't mind being used as a pawn in the war against Voldemort

Until a few weeks ago he knew that a miserable man like him would never be happy.

Until a few nights ago, he doubted that he would ever be truly loved.

Laurel.

The shine of her smile, the warmth of her body, her sweet voice that kept bad thoughts at bay.

Was he willing to sacrifice her?