Dear Harry,
My initial hope was that you'd find these letters after my death. I'd place them in the box with the memories your mother preserved, both of which would help you understand where you came from, who I am, why all this happened the way it did.
Of course, none of this was meant to excuse my actions. I merely wanted to show you…
Severus stared at what he'd written, shaking his head as he did so. So much time spent trying to articulate his feelings, and all for what? What was the bloody point? Harry would never read these letters. He couldn't even bear to read them himself, knowing how futile they were.
Yet futile or not…
I merely wanted to explain my perspective, somehow make you understand that none of this was ever what I intended. There were so many things I didn't understand, so much more that I willfully chose to ignore. You suffered for that, for which I am deeply regretful. No apology could possibly be sufficient, but I needed you to know…
Of course, none of that matters now. Short of a miracle, you'll be dead long before it's safe for me to reveal these things.
That, too, will be my fault. I was the one who pledged myself to Dumbledore, foolish enough to see him as my path to salvation. Not just my path, but yours, too. I truly believed he was the one person – the only person – who could ensure your survival. For that, I was willing to serve him without question.
I should've known better. He'd already failed me once, insisting your mother would be safe as long as I gave him what he wanted. I did everything he asked, yet still…
Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair. He still hadn't come to terms with Dumbledore's betrayal, one that ran so much deeper than he'd initially thought. It wasn't just the deception where Harry was concerned, manipulating Severus into protecting him under false pretenses. No, it had started with Lily herself, promises of safety and survival that had proven to be anything but.
"Keep her… them… safe."
"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"
"Anything."
Agreeing to serve as Potions Master… languishing at Hogwarts, all while trusting Dumbledore to follow through on his end of the bargain. He'd had no choice, really. His own attempts to save Lily had failed, and besides, he couldn't risk blowing his cover. He'd sworn to Dumbledore that he wouldn't, all too happy to serve as his personal spy as long as Lily was safe.
"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."
He'd done that, too. Oh yes. He'd devoted his life to that purpose, long before he'd known who Harry truly was. He'd endured years of frustrations, chafing at his own limitations, the lack of information, Dumbledore's infuriating tendency to place Harry in danger time and again for reasons he still didn't understand. He'd followed every order he'd been given, even those he found truly reprehensible.
"Are you intending to let him kill you?"
"Certainly not. You must kill me."
Of course, he hadn't carried that one out yet, but it was only a matter of time. He'd brand himself as a murderer, a traitor, and all for what?
"So the boy… the boy must die?"
What was the point? Why had he suffered so much, only to watch his efforts end in failure?
That question had haunted him for months now, one he couldn't seem to escape no matter how hard he tried. It was a sick sort of deja vu, relying on Dumbledore's machinations only to realize too late that the outcome wasn't what he'd been promised. Lily's death. The death of their son. Once again, he was expected to stand aside, helpless to act in their defense.
Dipping his quill in the inkpot, he finished the letter, sighing as he tucked it in the box. He should've tossed it in the fire for all the good it would do, and yet a part of him still felt compelled to save it. Even if those words would never be seen…
Well, there was some small comfort in knowing they'd been said.
Severus exited his quarters, scowling at a pair of Hufflepuffs on his way up the stairs. Passing an open window, he frowned as a warm gust of wind ruffled his hair, followed by the smell of blooming flowers. Springtime already… how was that possible? Less than two months and the school year would be over.
What would happen after that? He couldn't say, though he knew better than to hope for anything good. Not when Dumbledore's curse was spreading further by the day, the Dark Lord growing impatient in response to Draco's continued failures. All three of them were living on borrowed time now, swiftly approaching that pivotal moment when there'd be no turning back.
As for Harry…
Severus sighed, dwelling on the past few months. He wished he could say their relationship had changed for the better, but it hadn't. Despite all his efforts, his determination to be as decent as humanly possible, Harry continued to respond with suspicion and mistrust. Gone were the weekly lessons from last fall, the fragile peace that had existed between them before winter break. He couldn't begin to figure out why, but…
"Murder! Murder in the bathroom! Murder!"
The scream came from directly above his head, a shrill voice he immediately recognized. That insufferable ghost… he wanted to believe it was nothing more than her usual histrionics, but in light of Draco's recent activities…
Fully expecting another poisoning, Severus wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him when he opened the bathroom door. Blood, so much blood… wounds inflicted by a curse that couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Draco sprawled out across the floor, while his son…
No time to think about that. Not yet. He pushed Harry aside, performing the countercurse once, twice, and then a third time before he helped Draco to his feet. Weakened by shock and blood loss, Draco leaned on him heavily as they headed for the door.
"You," he snarled, glancing back over his shoulder at Harry. "Wait here."
Severus's close proximity had been fortunate, to say the least. Had he arrived a few minutes later, Draco would've been beyond help, even by magical standards. As it was, he required little further treatment. Several doses of blood replenisher and a bit of dittany, and he was back to his old self, turning to Severus with a sulky expression.
"I want him punished."
"Don't worry," Severus said. "He will be."
With that, he left the hospital wing, glad that the trip back to the bathroom was a bit of a walk. He had yet to wrap his mind around what Harry had done, not to mention where he could've possibly learned that spell. That bloody spell… Severus had only ever shared it with a couple of other Death Eaters, too young and stupid to know any better. As far as he knew, it hadn't even been used in recent times, so how in the hell had Harry…
Not just how, but why? Sectumsempra was no ordinary dueling spell, certainly not something one would use merely to put their opponent at a disadvantage. It was intended to maim, to kill, a final solution when left with no other choice.
Was that what happened, then? Had Draco threatened Harry's life? Severus didn't want to think so, but then again, Draco had been attempting to murder the headmaster for the better part of a year. Multiple students had been poisoned because of him, and he had to be growing desperate. If Harry had confronted him, threatened to spoil his plans…
Severus stopped in his tracks, forcing himself to take several deep breaths as he hovered outside the bathroom. It would not do to lose his temper with Harry. What he wanted was an explanation, which wasn't likely to happen if he put him on the defensive. Of course, he couldn't afford to be too forgiving either, but some measure of restraint would certainly be helpful.
"I didn't mean for it to happen," Harry said as soon as he opened the bathroom door. "I didn't know what that spell did."
In years past, Severus would've ignored this justification. He wouldn't have noticed Harry's expression, wide eyed bewilderment underscored by guilt. As it was, he knew his son was telling the truth. It simply wasn't like him to knowingly use Dark magic, even if he had believed his life was at risk. He was too much like his mother, more likely to inflict the minimum amount of damage in order to protect himself.
"You didn't know?" Severus said.
"No sir, I…"
"Why would you cast a spell without knowing its effects?"
"I panicked. I just blurted it out, I… I didn't realize…"
"And why did you panic?"
"We were dueling, and…" Harry hesitated, lowering his eyes. "He tried to cast an Unforgivable."
"Which one?"
"The Cruciatus, sir."
"I see." Severus was dangerously close to losing his temper again, though it wasn't directed at Harry. Desperate or not, the idea that Draco had tried to torture his son…
Meanwhile, Harry didn't expect to be believed. Severus could read that in his expression, his shoulders slumped in defeat. No doubt he expected cruel words or a harsh punishment, for which Severus could hardly blame him. Again, he imagined how he'd react to this situation under different circumstances, only to cringe away from the thought.
"One wrong doesn't justify another."
"Sir?"
"If you feel threatened," he said, "you have every right to defend yourself. However, that does not excuse the use of unknown spells. You had plenty of other options, including disarming your opponent or placing him in a body bind. I trust you'll remember that in the future."
"Yes, sir. Yes, of course."
"As for this…" He waved a hand, gesturing at the bloodsoaked floor and spattered walls. "I expect you to clean it up."
"Without magic?" Harry said.
Of course he would assume that. It was exactly the sort of punishment Severus might've inflicted in the past, believing it was Potter's son he was dealing with. As it was…
"You may use magic," he said. "The sooner we can put this unpleasant business behind us, the better."
Harry didn't bother to hide his surprise, hesitating before he cast a cleansing charm. Severus observed for several minutes, only half aware of what he was doing as he withdrew his own wand. There on the wall… yes, Harry had missed a spot. A few faint stains between the tiles, all those splotches on Harry's clothes…
"Sir?"
He blinked, realizing too late how absurd his actions must seem. Cleaning the blood from Harry's face? To him, it had felt natural, something he'd done without thinking. But from Harry's perspective…
"What?" he said, doing his best to sound irritable.
"Why are you…"
"As I already said, I'm eager to get this over with."
"No," Harry said. "That isn't it."
"No?" he echoed, infusing his voice with as much sarcasm as he could manage. "Enlighten me, then."
"You wouldn't have done that. Before… you wouldn't have done it. You would've said nasty things, taken House Points, given me detention…"
"20 points from Gryffindor."
"Just 20? You would've taken twice as many, and you would've enjoyed it."
"Are you saying you want me to take more points? If so, I'd be happy to oblige you."
Harry shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying. It's just… you've been different lately. Ever since last fall…"
Severus opened his mouth and then closed it again, fumbling for a suitable response. Yes, he'd been different, which of course, Harry had noticed. But he'd never expected to be called out on it, put in a position where he had to justify his actions.
Then again, perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. Hadn't he spent these past few months dwelling on similarities between Harry and his mother? All those things he'd never noticed… Lily had been blunt, too. She'd never hesitated to question his behavior, particularly when he'd done something she didn't understand.
"Indeed, I have chosen to be more… tolerant where you're concerned. If you don't like it, however…"
"I didn't say that. I'd just like to know why."
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
Severus sighed, vanishing a bit of blood from his own robes before he tucked his wand back in his sleeve.
"I've modified my behavior because… because there are things I must teach you. Now that we're in the middle of a war, I cannot afford to let personal conflicts interfere with my duties. When the time comes, we must make sure you're fully prepared. That's much easier to achieve if I don't position myself as an adversary."
"So you still hate me," Harry said. "But you keep it to yourself now?"
"I don't hate you."
"You did."
"No, I…" Severus hesitated, completely at a loss. He couldn't tell Harry the truth, obviously – it would be too much of a risk to them both, and besides, Harry wasn't likely to believe him anyway. On the other hand, there was a part of him that wanted, perhaps even needed to be honest on some level. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet Harry's gaze.
"My previous feelings were based on certain… assumptions. Over the years, I've come to realize that those assumptions weren't as accurate as I originally thought."
"My father?"
Severus inclined his head. "I saw what I expected to see. Your father… James Potter… my experiences with him weren't pleasant, to say the least."
"I know what he did," Harry said. "Well, some of it."
"Yes, well…"
Strange, but Severus had nearly forgotten the incident in his office, unable to control his fury as he'd jerked Harry out of the Pensieve. At the time, it was the worst possible insult, a betrayal he could never forgive. Now? It felt distant, alien, a glimpse of a dream only half remembered. Now that he knew Harry's true identity, knew that Potter's actions had damaged them both…
"I really am sorry," Harry said quietly. "I know you didn't believe me, and I'm not sure you will now, but I never meant…"
"I believe you."
"You do?"
"As I've said, I've come to recognize the difference between you. I only regret that it took me so long to do so."
"Why?"
"Why do I regret it?" Severus frowned.
"No," Harry said. "Why do you see me differently now? What changed your mind?"
"I…"
What was he supposed to say? He couldn't tell Harry about the box, and yet he couldn't imagine anything else that might've shifted his perspective. It was a shameful thing to admit, even to himself, but it was the truth. Without Lily's revelation, he would've clung to his bias, too stubborn to see Harry as anything other than a living, breathing reincarnation of James Potter.
"Necessity and clarity can be one and the same."
"What?"
"As I've told you, I've made an effort to be less… acrimonious. Once I stopped looking for reasons to object to your behavior, it occurred to me…" Severus paused, taking a deep breath. "I realized that at least some of that behavior could be blamed on my own provocations."
"So you were nicer to me, then I was nicer to you, and…"
"Precisely. If you were like him, that wouldn't have been the case. He would've gone out of his way to make my life difficult, no matter how tolerant I was."
It was a poor explanation, though Harry seemed to accept it. He nodded, surprising him with a sympathetic look.
"It must've been really bad."
Severus shrugged. "Regardless, I shouldn't have allowed it to interfere with your education. Your progress this year…"
"Those lessons really did help," Harry interrupted. "I'm sorry I stopped showing up."
"Yes, you've improved considerably. From what I hear, you've also been quite successful in Potions. Professor Slughorn's tutelage seems to suit you better than mine."
"It isn't Slug… I mean…" Harry stopped, his eyes widening slightly. "I've been getting lots of help from Hermione."
"I see," Severus said. "And that wasn't the case before?"
"Yes… no, I mean she was, but…"
He stepped closer, puzzled by the shift in Harry's behavior. Up until then, he'd seemed impressively at ease, so much that he'd nearly confessed…
Confessed what? What was he hiding?
"There's something you're not telling me."
"No. No, I…"
Part of him wanted to let it go. He was enjoying this newfound peace with his son, hoping it would lead to better things, at least in the short term. Yet at the same time, he couldn't deny his curiosity. A niggling suspicion had taken root in his mind, directly related to the incident that had brought him to the bathroom in the first place.
"Bring me your schoolbag."
"Sir?"
"Your schoolbag," he repeated, "along with all of your books."
Harry looked like he wanted to protest, ultimately shaking his head as he left the bathroom. Severus paced back and forth while he waited, wondering why it hadn't occurred to him before. That book… he'd assumed it was safe, stashed in the very back of his supply room. It had sat there since his first year of teaching, something he'd only ever used as an occasional reference.
Of course, that was before Slughorn had returned to Hogwarts, invading his personal space and making it his own. Naturally, he'd taken most of his possessions with him, but some things were easily forgotten. If Slughorn had stumbled across it… no, it wouldn't have occurred to him to take a second look. He would've placed it in the classroom, accessible for any student who might've forgotten their own.
Yes, that made sense. So much sense, in fact, that Severus didn't need any confirmation. A vast improvement in potions was one thing, but using his own carefully guarded spell? That wasn't a coincidence.
Harry returned five minutes later, hesitating before he handed the bag to Severus.
"This is your copy of Advanced Potion Making?"
"Yes."
He inquired further, though Harry was resolute. He insisted that he'd purchased the book, ignoring the fact that it obviously belonged to Ronald Weasley.
Disappointed. There was no other word for Severus's reaction. Yes, he knew he had no right to expect Harry's trust, knew it was fear of confiscation and punishment that prompted his son to lie. He had no right, yet still…
"Two options, Mr. Potter. Either tell me the truth, or serve detention with me Friday night."
Harry narrowed his eyes, an unmistakable reminder of Lily. "You said you were different now. You said…"
"I said I was making an effort to be more fair, and this is no exception. If it was, I'd schedule your detention for Saturday morning."
"But Quidditch… last match of the season…"
"Exactly," Severus said. "In the interest of fairness, I'm willing to accommodate your schedule. However, I'm not willing to tolerate lying."
"I'm not lying! I told you…"
"What you told me and what I know to be a fact are two different things. One more chance, Mr. Potter… is this your copy of Advanced Potion Making?"
Harry hesitated, staring down at his feet.
"Yes."
"Look at me."
He had to be sure. Granted, he was 99% certain his theory was right, but he had to be sure. He locked eyes with Harry, forming a connection that couldn't have lasted for more than a few seconds. Still, it was enough to confirm his suspicions, a hazy vision of his own cramped handwriting appearing in his mind.
"Friday night," he said as he turned to leave. "8 PM sharp."
Severus closed the door behind him, dropping into his armchair with a heavy sigh. To say it had been a long day would be an understatement – he was beyond exhausted, stifling a yawn as he fixed himself a pot of coffee.
Tired or not, he had no intention of sleeping just yet. He drank one cup and then another, rising to pace the room as the caffeine took effect.
Was he wrong to punish Harry?
Objectively, no. Harry had lied, after all, even when given numerous chances to tell the truth. Assigning him detention had been perfectly reasonable.
On the other hand…
He'd had every reason to lie. Severus couldn't deny it, just as he knew that he only had himself to blame. Well, his previous self. Harsh. Unyielding. Often unreasonable, sometimes bordering on cruel. When had he ever given Harry reason to trust him? What basis did he have to expect the truth?
None.
By that standard, the punishment was unfair. Perhaps it would've been better to pretend ignorance, send Harry on his way with nothing more than another admonishment not to cast unknown spells. Unfortunately…
"I want him punished."
He couldn't afford to be too lenient. Not with Draco demanding retribution, not when it felt like the Dark Lord was watching his every move. As it was, he was afraid he'd given away too much, confessing that his opinion toward Harry had changed as of late. True, he'd come up with justifications for that, excuses that weren't likely to put either of them at risk. But still…
Still, he had to be careful.
That, of course, was why the deception had gone both ways. Part of him had longed to tell Harry the truth about the potions book, wondering if his own admission would've prompted honesty in return. If they could've talked about it… if he'd had the chance to explain…
Explain what? His innovations with potions? There would've been no risk in that. It was everything else that concerned him, defensive spells and Dark magic that would've required him to delve deep into his past, admitting things that were intensely personal, even painful. That would've been hard enough to do even under the best of circumstances. With the Dark Lord hovering over them both? Impossible.
And so he'd kept his secret, just as Harry had attempted to keep his. Disappointing, to say the least, and yet…
"It isn't Slug… I mean…"
Indeed, Slughorn wasn't responsible for Harry's newfound brilliance with potions. It seemed Severus had been teaching him all along, albeit not in the way he'd expected. To know that his son was learning, even flourishing under his own tutelage? That filled him with a deep sense of pride, an unfamiliar emotion but certainly not unwelcome.
Dear Harry, he wrote as he settled back in his chair.
Tonight, I will not question whether you'll ever have the chance to read this letter. I will not dwell on Dumbledore's dismal predictions, nor will I speak of my regrets. I'd rather talk about possibility, something I once believed in above all things.
As I'm sure you know, there was a time when I willingly chose to follow the Dark Lord. I'm sure you've wondered why… well, no, I imagine you assumed the worst, and for that, I cannot blame you. I can't say those assumptions were entirely wrong either. There was a part of me that was desperate to believe in my own superiority, driven by resentment and fear.
But more than that, it was possibility that drew me to his cause. Promises of power and respect, my talents recognized on a level I'd never experienced? I craved the life he offered, a life where I might hone my skills and apply them to a greater purpose. For that, I was willing to overlook many things, from disturbing rumors to numerous warnings from your mother. I couldn't surrender my illusions (or delusions, to be more accurate), even when that meant losing the only person who truly mattered to me.
Blind. Stupid and selfish, utterly naive. Indeed, I was lucky your mother was gracious enough to forgive me when I came to my senses. I only wish…
No, I will not speak of my regrets. What I will say is that I am the Half-Blood Prince. Yes, I am the original owner of that textbook in your possession, a boy who once dreamed of being so much more than he was. Those dreams led me astray, as we both well know, but what lay beneath…
Severus paused, pouring himself another cup of coffee. He downed it in several quick swallows, nerves fairly thrumming with energy as he dipped his quill in the inkpot.
What lay beneath was a relentless drive to find solutions. If a potion technique was insufficient, I'd find ways to improve it. If I needed a spell that didn't exist, I'd work tirelessly to invent it. I was unstoppable, thoroughly convinced I could solve any problem if I just tried hard enough.
Naturally, this had mixed results. I certainly don't regret the invention of Muffliato, which has proven to be a useful charm. Sectumsempra? That's another matter, though even there, I had the forethought to create a countercurse. Cause and effect, problems and solutions… I never gave up, no matter how difficult…
Severus dropped his quill, spilling the inkpot as he leapt to his feet. The pot of coffee toppled over, too, brown liquid seeping into the parchment. In a matter of seconds, the letter was ruined, but he didn't notice. He was already out the door, his breath coming in short, excited bursts as he headed down to his lab.
"I'm not going to kill you."
Severus sent the message at 7 AM, white faced and bleary eyed after a long night of brewing. By that point, even coffee couldn't help him, but it didn't matter. He had a plan now, a potential solution tucked neatly in his pocket.
Dumbledore's response arrived at noon, delivered to him in the Great Hall as he forced himself to eat a bit of lunch. As tired as he was, he couldn't help smirking. All those other messages… delayed meetings, waiting months for replies? It seemed he'd finally found a way to get the old man's attention.
"My office tonight. 9 PM."
Fortunately, that left him time to take a nap. Good. Very good. He'd have to be at his best for this particular meeting, in full possession of his intellectual prowess. Dumbledore would attempt to outmaneuver him, which…
He couldn't allow that to happen. It was as simple as that.
"Come in, Severus."
For once, Dumbledore didn't waste time on small talk, nor did he offer Severus any of those ridiculous sweets. He sat down at his desk instead, brow furrowed as he studied his blackened hand.
"I don't have much longer, do I?"
"No."
"Well then, it's fortunate that arrangements have already been made. All we must do is follow through with the plan."
"The plan has changed."
"Severus…" Dumbledore paused, sighing heavily. "What I'm asking you to do won't be easy. I know that, and I cannot blame you for having reservations. But you must understand…"
"Reservations?" Severus said. "Call it an epiphany. If I don't kill you…"
"You must, Severus. There's no other choice."
"Oh, but there is."
"What of Draco? What about the Unbreakable Vow, your promise to look after the students after I'm gone? You promised, Severus. You swore you'd protect them, a task that can only be accomplished if you're positioned to take over as headmaster. For that to happen, Lord Voldemort has to believe your loyalty lies with him."
"Do you think I haven't thought about these things? I'd never even consider changing the plan unless I was certain…"
"And what would this plan of yours mean for me? We've already discussed the manner of my death, what I would suffer without your intervention. Even if the curse doesn't kill me… you know what will happen. The moment he senses any weakness…"
"I'm aware."
"You're aware," Dumbledore said, "yet you don't see mercy as a better alternative?"
"I didn't say that."
Severus hesitated, taking a deep breath as he reached into the pocket of his coat. He produced a tiny vial, setting it on the desk in front of Dumbledore.
"What's this?"
"Poison," he said. "One of my own invention, quite different from others you may have encountered. It puts the drinker into a deep state of unconsciousness, so deep they don't have the capacity to feel their own demise. No awareness. No suffering. It even has a pleasant taste."
Until that moment, Dumbledore hadn't believed Severus was serious. His expression made that clear, slow dawning realization followed by astonishment. It was the first time Severus had ever seen him speechless, an opportunity he decided to take full advantage of.
"You have two choices," he said. "Take the poison when the time is right, which will enable me to keep my Vow and continue with the war effort. Or…"
"Or?" Dumbledore repeated when he trailed off.
"Or you can refuse, killing me in the process since I'll be forced to break my Vow. And what will happen then? The war will be lost, all your carefully laid plans ending in ruin."
Dumbledore rose from his chair, practically radiating anger as he towered over Severus's seat. It reminded him of that long ago night on the hilltop, prostrate on his knees, begging for Lily's life. Even the expression was the same, hard and unyielding, a look that had once left him trembling in fear.
He didn't tremble now. Oh no. He straightened his shoulders instead, meeting Dumbledore stare for stare.
"You promised."
"I changed my mind."
"You swore you'd do anything I requested. Anything."
"Anything," Severus repeated, "as long as you kept them safe. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it was you who failed to follow through on that particular bargain."
"Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person. You know very well that I had no control…"
"You made me believe you did."
"Only for the greater good," Dumbledore said. "Lily's son…"
"Oh, yes. Let's talk about Lily's son. Or more specifically, the assurance that he'd survive if I agreed to help you protect him. You extracted that promise under false pretenses, you…"
"I asked you to help me make sure Lily's death wasn't in vain. That's exactly what we're doing."
"Setting him up to be slaughtered by the Dark Lord?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "Somehow, I don't think Lily would appreciate…"
"Lily Potter was willing to die in order to stop Lord Voldemort from taking an innocent life. Harry's sacrifice will be much the same, except he'll be saving hundreds, perhaps thousands from the same fate. I'm sure Lily would understand…"
"No," Severus said. "She wouldn't. Not if there was even the slightest hope of an alternative."
"An alternative doesn't exist, Severus. As much as I wish otherwise, Harry must die by Lord Voldemort's hand."
"Why?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I have already explained to the extent that I am able. I cannot…"
"You lied to me," Severus interrupted. "You spent all these years finding countless ways to deceive me. You take me for granted, abuse my trust, and all for what? To suffer so much, only to realize you've set me up for failure?"
"Not failure, Severus. Failure would be allowing Lord Voldemort to triumph."
"But why Har… why Potter? If someone else could take his place…"
"Are you volunteering?"
"Perhaps."
"Interesting," Dumbledore said, "though I'm afraid it doesn't matter. As I've already told you, Harry and Lord Voldemort are inextricably linked. He is the only one with the power…"
"Yes, though you have yet to explain the nature of that connection. If there was some other way we might break it…"
"There isn't."
"Is it Dark magic?"
"It's rather more complicated than that."
"How so?"
"Enough, Severus. I will not put Harry at risk merely to satisfy your curiosity."
"My skill as an Occlumens is unparalleled. You said so yourself. Do you really think I'm incapable of guarding such a secret, considering how many others I've kept over the years?"
"I don't question your ability to keep secrets. It is indeed quite extraordinary. Your willingness to accept the inevitable? That's another matter entirely."
"So," Severus said slowly, "it's my interference that concerns you. You're afraid that if I knew the truth, I'd seek alternatives rather than follow through with your plan."
Dumbledore nodded, finally returning to his seat. He seemed smaller somehow, old and tired, bordering on frail. Clearly, the curse was taking its toll on him. He was swiftly running out of time, making it all the more important that they come to an understanding.
"I will make sure that the Dark Lord is defeated," Severus said, "no matter what it takes. That's the plan, correct?"
"Correct."
"Well then, I will not stop until that plan succeeds."
"I'm glad to hear it."
That was an understatement. Dumbledore's entire body relaxed, a hint of a twinkle appearing in his eyes. He pushed the vial across the desk, nodding in approval as Severus tucked it back in his pocket.
"You'll want to keep that somewhere safe," he said. "Or better yet, destroy it. I can't imagine you'll have any need…"
"I'm afraid you misunderstand me. I said I would make sure the Dark Lord was defeated. I never agreed to return to our earlier plan."
"It's for the best. Do it by your own hand, and Lord Voldemort will know for certain…"
"No."
Severus uttered the word with such finality that even Dumbledore seemed taken aback. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, obviously struggling to come up with a convincing argument.
"Poison is risky," he finally said. "We cannot be sure…"
"I'll make sure."
"Severus…"
He rose from his chair until it was he who towered over Dumbledore, not the other way around. Hard and unyielding? Oh yes, he could play that game, too. He schooled his features into an implacable mask, his voice ice cold as he spoke.
"You owe me this," he said softly. "Countless deceptions, years upon years of lies… despite it all, I've done everything you asked. Everything. I will continue to do so, but not without expecting something in return."
"What does it matter? If you meant what you said about following through with the rest of the plan…"
"I did."
"Well then, everyone will still need to believe you killed me. Why is the method so important?"
Severus had anticipated this question, each of his excuses seeming more implausible than the last. In the end, he took inspiration from the man in front of him, giving his head a little shake.
"I have my reasons," he said. "That's all you need to know."
In the aftermath, Severus couldn't believe he'd succeeded. Once the adrenaline wore off and he pondered what he'd done…
Under normal circumstances, Dumbledore would've found some way to outmaneuver him. At the very least, he would've put up one hell of a fight. But that was Dumbledore in his prime, not an exhausted old man suffering under the effects of a terrible curse.
How much longer could he have? A month? Two months? Severus had spent the better part of a year trying not to think of it, unable to face the dual realities of losing someone so fundamental while knowing he'd be responsible for that loss.
He'd still be responsible. The poison didn't change that, though really, wasn't that the point? He'd be helping Draco accomplish his task, albeit indirectly, still able to fulfill the Vow he'd made to Narcissa.
That indirectness…
On one hand, it would change nothing. On the other? It might just have the power to change everything.
