Shatter

For the next few days, Severus waited for another message from Dumbledore. He still couldn't believe he'd gotten the upper hand, convinced that the headmaster would find some way to turn the tables on him. How would it happen? When? He remained on high alert, bracing himself for another confrontation.

It never came.

Instead, the castle was peaceful, as if lulled into submission by the warmth of early June. It was a deceptive calm, as fragile as it was fleeting. Any day now, his world would erupt into chaos, and what then? Success, failure, life, death… he couldn't predict what would happen, determined to make the most of the time he had left.

That started with Harry… or more specifically, Harry's detention.

"I'd like to try something different, if you'll indulge me."

"Do I have a choice?"

Responding with a smirk, he led Harry out of his office. He took him to an empty classroom, drilling him on defensive spells for the next three hours.

"Repel me again. Very good."

He hadn't been lying that day in the bathroom. Harry did show remarkable improvement, casting nonverbals without a second thought. Even his reflexes were faster, so quick that he managed to catch Severus off guard a couple times. Very good indeed…

"This doesn't feel like a punishment."

"No?" he said, "Perhaps we should return to my office, then. I have several baskets of rats that need disemboweling."

Harry looked horrified, his expression shifting to astonishment as Severus snickered.

"Sir?"

Without question, it was the best moment he'd ever shared with his son. The way those green eyes lit up, lips twitching as Harry tried to suppress his amusement? He failed miserably, but that was the best part. The sound of his laughter affected Severus in the most peculiar way, healing something inside him he hadn't known was broken.

He tried to make the most of these moments, though they were few and far between. He had no reason to assign more detentions, nor could he bring himself to resume their private lessons. The school year was swiftly coming to an end, just a couple more weeks of normalcy before the world fell apart. Shouldn't Harry spend what little time he had left with his friends?

Of course.

And so Severus remained in the shadows, sleeping more than usual, making a point to eat regular meals. He did whatever he could to preserve his strength, knowing this might very well be his last chance to do so. When the time came…


When the time came, Severus wasn't aware of it. Not at first. It was a day like any other day, with the exception of an unusual request from Dumbledore.

Then again, perhaps it wasn't unusual. One look at the headmaster and Severus understood why he'd requested the potions, formulas for strength and stamina along with pain relief. His face was a sickly shade of gray, shoulders sagging as he slumped in his seat. He was coming to the end now, the curse spreading at an accelerated pace through a body that no longer had the strength to fight it.

"Take this."

Dumbledore obeyed, lifting the vial to his lips with a trembling hand.

"This one, too."

Again, he swallowed the potion, though he frowned as Severus handed him the third vial.

"I don't recognize…"

"You wouldn't," Severus said. "It's a recent invention, something I've been working on for the past few months."

Dumbledore nodded, grimacing as he swallowed the putrid green liquid. The change was as visible as it was immediate, traces of color creeping back into his face. He sat up straighter, his strained features giving way to an expression that could almost be described as normal.

"Thank you, Severus," he said. "Once again, you've outdone yourself."

"I wouldn't say that. The effects are temporary at best."

"How long?"

"Four or five hours? Maybe six if you're lucky, but no more than that."

"Perfect," Dumbledore's voice was filled with satisfaction, an odd response from someone who'd only been granted the briefest reprieve.

Then again…

"You're planning something."

"Nothing remarkable, just a short excursion. I'll be taking Harry with me."

Severus's stomach twisted, protests bubbling up in his throat like an overheating cauldron. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, forcing himself to take several deep breaths.

"An excursion?" he said, his voice deceptively neutral. "Where?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you."

"It would be best to tell someone, surely. If something should happen…"

"No, Severus. This is between me and Harry."

"But…"

But I'm his bloody father!

Severus didn't say that, of course, though he couldn't help thinking it. What right did Dumbledore have to make decisions for Harry when his own flesh and blood…

"Headmaster," he said quietly. "You're not well. Just a few minutes ago…"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "I'll admit I was feeling rather poorly. Fortunately, that's no longer the case."

He rose to his feet, managing to do so without even a hint of weakness. A flash of wand and he produced his Patronus, obviously trying to prove that his magical abilities were fully intact.

"We don't know how long the potion will last. We cannot be sure…"

"Indeed, we can't." Dumbledore tucked his wand back in his belt. "Which is why Harry and I must leave without further delay."

Severus did his best to argue. He raised every objection he could think of, from questioning Dumbledore's mental faculties to pointing out that his absence would make the school less secure. It was the latter that got the headmaster's attention, his voice oddly strained.

"Yes," he said. "I suppose it will."

"Then don't you think…"

"I think it's fortunate that I have you, Severus. Will you look after the school while I'm gone?"

"You know I will. That isn't…"

"Isn't the point?" Dumbledore finished for him. "It very much is, I'm afraid."

What was he saying? Was the school in danger? If so, then perhaps this little excursion wasn't the worst idea. If the intention was to keep Harry safe…

"Is there some threat I'm unaware of?"

"Perhaps."

"Draco?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sure you've noticed…"

"I have."

Indeed, Draco had undergone a remarkable change as of late. His pinched expressions were gone, along with the palpable anxiety that had hovered over him these past few months. Instead, he seemed oddly confident, moving through the castle with a newfound sense of purpose.

"He has a plan," Dumbledore said.

"It would seem so, though that doesn't necessarily mean anything. All his other plans…"

"Have ended in failure, yes. This one must not."

With that, Severus finally understood what was happening. It was no longer a question of months, of weeks or even days. In a matter of hours…

"You have the poison, I trust?"

"Yes."

"Good," Dumbledore said. "Keep it with you. Unless…"

"I haven't changed my mind."

"Casting the Killing Curse would guarantee…"

"No."

That was the extent of their argument, ending with a sigh of resignation from Dumbledore. He dismissed Severus a few minutes later, telling him to get some rest.


Rest? Had the old man lost his mind? Severus had forgotten what it felt like to be tired, nerve endings crackling with energy as he prowled the halls. He spent the next couple hours scouring the castle, ordering students to retire to their common rooms as curfew approached.

By then, he knew something was wrong. The castle was quiet, peaceful, and yet he could feel it, muscles tensing as he rubbed his forearm. Just the slightest prickle, far too subtle to be mistaken for a summons. Still, he knew what it meant, chills skittering up his spine as he felt it again.

Death Eaters.

Where were they? Hogsmeade? Waiting outside the gates, perhaps? No, much closer than that.

He heard Bellatrix first, her unmistakable cackle cutting through the silence. Another cackle and then a howl, a crash, followed by the distinct sound of dueling. Minerva… yes, Minerva had come upon them. She let out an impressive yell, echoed by a shout from Rolanda.

His first instinct was to go down and assist the other staff members. Indeed, his wand was already in his hand when he realized what he was doing, tucking it away with a frustrated sigh. He ascended another flight of stairs, casting a Disillusionment charm as he did so.

"Whatever happens tonight, you must not blow your cover."

Dumbledore was right. Of course he was, though that didn't make it any easier to obey his instructions.

"Avada Ked…"

"Expelliarmus!"

Perhaps he should've stayed in the dungeons. Granted, there wasn't much he would've been able to do from there either, but at least he wouldn't have to hear what was happening, helpless to intervene. Unfortunately, he couldn't risk going back downstairs. His only option…

The astronomy tower. Yes, that would do. He climbed the spiral staircase, cool night breeze caressing his face as he stepped out onto the ramparts.

"Bloody hell."

The Mark was etched into the sky, stars blotted out by sickly shades of green. His stomach churned in response, sounds of battle growing louder as he pulled back into the shadows.

What was he supposed to do? Without instructions from Dumbledore…

Severus lost his train of thought, squinting as a small object appeared in the sky. An owl? A thestral, perhaps? No, it was distinctly human, outlines of a broomstick and flowing robes becoming visible as it drew near. That long, silvery hair…

He lowered his wand, frowning as Dumbledore reached the ramparts. One rider, not two. Where was…

To his relief, that question was answered immediately. He heard Harry's disembodied voice, bewildered and frantic but apparently unharmed.

"Is it the real Mark? Has someone definitely been…"

The cloak… of course.

"Go and wake Severus."

In a flash, he understood what Dumbledore intended. Oh yes, he saw it quite clearly, realizing he still had the upper hand. If he could pull this off…


"Headmaster, I am here."

Harry spun around, breath catching in his throat as Snape emerged from the shadows. His black eyes glittered, pale skin taking on a greenish hue beneath the Dark Mark. He'd never looked more fierce, more frightening… was this really the same man who'd been nicer this year? Harry couldn't remember how he'd ever come to that conclusion. All he could think of was…

"He told Voldemort about the prophecy, it was him!"

"Professor Snape made a terrible…"

"Don't tell me it was a mistake, sir! He was listening at the door!"

Now here he was, spying again. Skulking in the shadows… what was he doing up here? Was he responsible for that Dark Mark?

"Do you have it?" Dumbledore said, his voice barely audible.

"I do."

Snape stepped forward, retrieving a vial from his pocket. It was a potion of some sort, though none that Harry recognized. The color reminded him of tar, dark and foreboding.

"Thank you, Severus."

"What is that? What are you giving him?"

"It's…"

Snape trailed off, whipping his head around at the sound of running footsteps. A familiar figure burst through the door, wand pointed directly at Dumbledore.

"Expell…"

Draco collapsed as Harry stared at Snape in astonishment. Those private lessons… he knew that spell. Wandless, nonverbal, and yet he'd seen Snape's lips move, mouthing a single word that had placed Draco in a deep state of slumber.

"When he wakes up," Dumbledore said, "be sure to blame it on me."

"I intend to."

Dumbledore nodded. "As for you, Harry…"

"Sir?"

"I must apologize."

"For what?"

"This."

A flick of Dumbledore's wand and he was rendered immobile, his body going rigid as he fell back against the wall. He made another attempt to speak, but it was a useless effort. All he could do was watch as the scene played out, stomach churning with anxiety.

"Severus…" Dumbledore glanced at the door as the noises grew closer. "The healing potion."

"Healing potion? You know perfectly well that this is poison."

"Severus, this is no time for jokes. Please…"

"No."

Harry had never seen Dumbledore look so distressed. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. He reached for the vial, his eyes going wide as Snape dangled it over the ramparts.

"We're running out of time! You know what will happen…"

"Tell him the truth."

"What?"

"The truth," Snape repeated.

"Severus, you… Muffliato!"

For a few seconds, Harry heard nothing. He only saw what was happening, Dumbledore gesturing wildly as Snape folded his arms over his chest. But then…

"Oh no," Snape said. "I will not be silenced, particularly with my own spell. I will not give you this vial either… not until you acknowledge what it is and why you're choosing to take it."

"Accio potion!"

"Call it by its proper name, or no spell on earth will force it to leave my hand."

Dumbledore muttered something under his breath, too quiet for Harry to hear. Snape shrugged in response, holding the vial even further out of reach.

"You'll have to be more specific."

"I don't know what it's called! You never told…"

"Exactly."

Dumbledore shook his head, staring up at Snape with an expression of disbelief. "You… you tricked me."

"Or was it you who tricked me? In any case, I suppose it doesn't matter now. Your only option is to do as I ask… unless, of course, you'd prefer to be left to the wolves."

"Severus, please…"

Snape glanced over his shoulder, black eyes fixed on the open door. Harry heard footsteps at the bottom of the stairs, sounds of dueling growing louder by the second.

"Lord Voldemort… he must believe…"

"He will," Snape said, "provided that Harry knows the truth."

"Harry?" Dumbledore repeated, sounding as dumbfounded as Harry felt in that moment. "Why would you… you've never…"

"I have neither the time or the inclination to explain. Do it now, before it's too late."

"But…"

"Do it."

Dumbledore hesitated, staring at Snape as if he'd never seen him before. Finally, he let out a shuddering sigh, turning his head in Harry's direction.

"It's true," he said, his voice barely audible. "My days were already numbered… Gaunt's ring, the curse… Severus managed to slow it down, but there was only so much…"

"Only so much I could do," Snape said when he trailed off. "A year, perhaps."

"A year that's nearly at an end."

Why wouldn't they let him speak? He needed to ask questions, needed to understand… Dumbledore had been so strong when they'd visited the cave. How… why…

Oddly enough, Snape seemed to anticipate this question. He'd given Dumbledore a potion, he explained, one that had restored his strength while relieving his pain for several hours. Was that what he was holding now? If so, why didn't he just give it to him? And what was this business about…

"Poison," Snape said. "He needs to hear you say it."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, body sagging against the ramparts. Despite their obvious disagreement, Snape slid an arm around him, offering his support.

"Thank you, Severus. Everything you've done…"

"No time for that," Snape said, shooting another look at the door. "Tell him."

"Poison," Dumbledore whispered. "A death of my choosing, far more merciful than… the alternative. I asked Severus to help me, though no one…"

"No one can know," Snape finished for him.

"Indeed, you mustn't tell anyone, Harry. That is crucial."

Clearly, this was enough for Snape. He removed the stopper, placing the vial in Dumbledore's hand.

No! No, please!

Harry didn't have the ability to scream. He couldn't even move, watching in horror as Dumbledore brought the vial to his lips.

No! No! No!

"Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"Get them out of the school."

"I will."

Dumbledore nodded, downing the poison in a single swallow. He looked straight at the spot where Harry was hidden, a ghost of a twinkle in his eyes as they drifted closed.

NO!

"He will not suffer," Snape said quietly, lowering Dumbledore to the ground. "I made sure of it."

In that, at least, Harry knew he was telling the truth. Dumbledore's chest rose and fell a couple more times, and then… nothing.

WHY DID YOU LET HIM DO IT? WHY?

Snape didn't even glance in his direction. Instead, he positioned himself over Dumbledore's body, wand gripped tightly as he stared at the door. If he was trying to look like a murderer, he was doing a good job of it. His eyes were icy cold, his expression smug.

What happened next was a nightmare, horrific fragments Harry couldn't seem to piece together no matter how hard he tried. Death Eaters. A werewolf. Bellatrix Lestrange feeling for Dumbledore's pulse, followed by a howl of delight.

"He's dead! He's dead! Dumbledore's dead!"

She flicked her wand at the body, arms and legs flopping around like a marionette as it rose several feet in the air.

"Make him dance!"

"No," Snape said, his voice cutting through the chatter with knife like precision. The others deferred to him immediately, though Bellatrix pouted, flicking her wand again.

"I said, 'no!'"

With that, Snape lifted his own wand, putting an end to the macabre little dance. Dumbledore's body fell with a thud, sprawled pitifully across the ground as another Death Eater leaned down to… whatever he was planning, he never had the chance to do it. Snape grabbed him by the collar, shoving him roughly toward the door.

"We need to leave, and quickly. Reinforcements will be arriving any minute if they're not here already."

"We can take them!"

"Don't be stupid," Snape said. "You know how the Dark Lord feels about unnecessary risks. Besides, he will be eager to hear of our… triumph."

That elicited another round of cheers, the others heading for the door as Snape pointed his wand at Draco. He murmured a counterspell, reaching down to heave Draco to his feet.

"What… what's happened?"

"You were incapacitated. Come."

"But I was supposed to… Dumbledore…"

"Dumbledore's dead."

"Dead!" Bellatrix shouted, cackling as she headed down the stairs. Snape rolled his eyes, pushing Draco toward the door.

"How did he…"

"No time to explain. Go."

Draco disappeared into the stairwell, leaving Snape alone on the ramparts.

"I am going to release you now," he said, his voice pitched low. "Do not cry out, and do not blow my cover. I will explain as soon as it's safe to do so."

Harry felt the spells being removed, though it hardly made any difference. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, standing there frozen as Snape departed. The door closed with a bang, followed by a deafening silence.

Dumbledore…

Suddenly, he remembered how to move, chest heaving as he dropped to his knees beside the body.

"Professor. Professor, please, no…"

"Dead!"

The voices were distant now, faint echos reaching his ears from several floors below. Celebrating Dumbledore's death, mocking him… Harry reached for his wand, tears streaming down his face as he got to his feet. What they'd done to him…

No. Despicable though they were, the Death Eaters hadn't done this. It was Dumbledore who'd chosen his death, Snape who'd supplied the poison.

Snape.

His stomach churned, rage bubbling up in his throat as he leaned over the ramparts. They'd made their way out of the castle now, small, dark figures scurrying across the grounds.

"Stupefy!"

A jet of red light shot from his wand, dissipating well before it reached its target. He couldn't run after them either – they'd be gone before he reached the fourth floor.

And yet they heard him. He saw them turn around, several figures heading back toward the castle. A shout from Snape and they stopped in their tracks, lingering for a moment before they resumed their journey toward the gates.

Only one figure remained, black cloak billowing in the nighttime breeze.

"You killed him."

Snape couldn't hear him, of course, which only made him angrier. He cast a couple more spells, raging at his own helplessness.

"You killed him!"

This time, Harry's voice rang out like a gunshot. Snape flinched, a brief, barely perceptible movement as he melted into the darkness.