Conceal

"Tell me, Severus," Voldemort said, red eyes glittering with anticipation. "Tell me how it happened."

"He'd just attacked one of our own, my lord. I saw him staring down at Draco, clearly relishing in his triumph."

"His triumph over me."

"Yes," Severus said. "I don't think he believed, even for a second, that any of your followers could defeat him."

"The arrogant fool. Go on."

"I caught him unawares, my lord. He didn't realize I was behind him until I spoke his name."

"What then?"

"I hesitated."

"Hesitated?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"I wanted him to understand what was happening. If I'd struck immediately…"

"Ah, yes. Continue."

"He needed to know it was you I serve," Severus said. "As such, I took the liberty of delivering a final message on your behalf."

"What was it?"

"I said, 'The Dark Lord sends his regards'."

Voldemort looked positively gleeful, clapping his hands in a disturbingly childlike way. The others applauded, too, staring at Severus with something akin to awe.

"Show me."

"Of course."

Severus had tweaked the memory to match his report, laboring over even the smallest detail. He'd even included his wand in the deception, performing the Killing Curse on a spider before he'd arrived at Malfoy Manor.

"Impressive," Voldemort said as he withdrew, "the visual is even better than your description. The look on his face…"

Naturally, he'd taken pains with that detail, too. He'd removed any trace of Dumbledore's serene acceptance, replacing it with an expression of horrified betrayal.

"Show me again."

He accepted a second invasion, knowing there'd be quite a few more in the coming days. Voldemort was nothing if not a sadist – he'd want to make the most of such a gruesome victory.

"My lord? There's one detail I haven't shared yet."

"Oh? What is it?"

Severus took a deep breath. "The other side… no one knows it was me."

This was a gamble, to say the least, one that was entirely dependent on Harry. Would he stay quiet as instructed? Or would he tell others about the poison, or worse, blame him for Dumbledore's death?

"You killed him!"

Had anyone else heard that scream? Severus hoped not, though in the end, it didn't matter. He'd already chosen to take the risk, realizing he'd have much more of an advantage if he could continue to play both sides.

"Explain," Voldemort said.

"We were alone when I killed him. No one saw me do it."

"Perhaps, but you left with the others. Surely they've figured it out by now."

"They also think I'm working as a double agent." Severus shrugged. "Dumbledore, fool that he was, went to great lengths to make sure they believed I was on their side."

"Your absence…"

"Can easily be explained. I'll simply tell them that Dumbledore instructed me to get the Death Eaters out of the castle. Unfortunately, I was unable to do so in time to prevent such a tragic loss."

"Tragic?" Voldemort smirked. "Severus, you're an excellent liar."

"Thank you, my lord."

"If you can make them believe…"

"I can."

"If so, you can continue spying over the summer. Of course, the truth will come out when you take over as headmaster this fall, but by then, it won't matter. We'll have countless more allies, not to mention full control of the Ministry. No one will dare stand against us."

"Headmaster?" Severus bowed his head. "My lord, I'm not worthy of such an honor."

"On the contrary, there's no one else I'd trust with such an important job."

"I'm grateful…"

Voldemort waved a dismissive hand, turning his attention to the other Death Eaters. "Let this be a lesson to you all," he said. "Serve me faithfully, and you shall be richly rewarded. Fail me, and the consequences will be severe."

He lingered on that final word, red eyes piercing each of them in turn. Only Severus was spared his scrutiny, though for how long?

Unfortunately, there was no answer to that question. All he could do was make the most of the time he had left.


Harry didn't know how long he sat next to Dumbledore's body. It might've been minutes or hours, the world silent aside from his occasional sniffles. Finally, he heard a muffled voice, followed by the creak of an opening door. A shaft of light fell across the ramparts, illuminating the headmaster's face.

"Dear lord! What happened?"

"Harry? Harry!"

"Who did this? Who?!"

He couldn't bring himself to respond, still desperate to believe this was just some terrible dream. If he said those words aloud… that would turn it into a reality he wasn't ready to face.

And yet he couldn't ignore them either. Not when Hermione started to cry, Professor McGonagall's voice shaking with distress. Even Ron's reaction tugged at his heart, a loud sniffle followed by a muttered curse.

"I couldn't stop it," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I couldn't…"

"Of course not," McGonagall said. "Anyone who was strong enough to overpower Albus… Harry, who was it?"

"Snape."

"Severus? Are you sure?"

"Snape… Dumbledore… they…"

Harry trailed off, struggling to find the words he needed. On one hand, he was angry at Snape for giving Dumbledore the poison. Downright furious, really. And yet it was Dumbledore who'd chosen to take it… Dumbledore who'd looked like he was dying before Snape had even given him the vial.

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

Whatever his reasons, Dumbledore had wanted Harry to keep his secret. Snape's secret. He couldn't begin to understand why, but…

"Harry," McGonagall said quietly. "Did Professor Snape kill Dumbledore?"

"No."

She exhaled sharply, her expression relieved.

"Who was it, then?"

"I… I don't know. I couldn't see. I mean, I saw them, but there were too many in the way. I don't know which one…"

"Then how do you know it wasn't Snape?" Ron said.

Harry hesitated, giving his head a little shake. Angry or not, he didn't want them to think Snape had murdered Dumbledore. Of course, he couldn't tell them the truth either, which left him in a difficult position.

"Snape knew I was up here," he said. "Dumbledore used spells to hide me, keep me from talking, but he knew I was here. After Dumbledore… I'm pretty sure Snape used his own spells to keep me hidden. He told me not to blow his cover."

"So he had nothing to do with…"

So far, Harry hadn't lied. He didn't want to lie now, choosing his words carefully.

"Snape couldn't have stopped it," he said. "It was already too late."

He was talking about the curse from Gaunt's ring, but they didn't need to know that. The point was, Dumbledore would've died no matter what Snape did.

"My days were already numbered…"

"Severus managed to slow it down, but there was only so much…"

In that, at least, Dumbledore had been telling the truth. Harry had watched him grow sicker by the minute, so sick he couldn't even hold himself upright. If Snape hadn't given him the poison…

"A death of my choosing, far more merciful than the alternative."

What was the alternative? Letting the Death Eaters kill him? Harry shuddered, remembering what Bellatrix had done to his body.

Snape had stopped that, too. He'd forced them to leave, doing exactly as Dumbledore had instructed.

"He… Dumbledore wanted him to get the Death Eaters out of the castle."

McGonagall nodded, her lips pressed into a grim line. She obviously believed him, probably because she knew there was no love lost between him and Snape. Why come to Snape's defense unless he knew for a fact that he hadn't done anything wrong?

The truth was, Harry didn't know. Not for sure. He was too bewildered, too angry, still struggling to process everything he'd seen and heard. But murder? Whatever Snape had done, it wasn't…

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Ron sniffled. "Me too."

After that, there were no more questions, the three of them huddling together as the sound of strange, mournful singing filled the air.


Severus didn't return to Hogwarts that night, though he knew the option was there. Minerva's Patronus appeared as soon as he stepped through the door at Spinner's End, informing him that classes had been canceled.

"Albus will be buried here at Hogwarts," she said. "Of course, you're more than welcome to attend the funeral."

Patronus? Definitely not. Owl? Too risky. That left him with one option, sighing as he tossed a pinch of Floo Powder into the fireplace.

"My word, Severus! You startled me!"

"Tell me," he said. "Tell me everything that happened."

She didn't hesitate, giving him an exhaustive report on the night's events. Tedious though it was, he couldn't help feeling relieved. She still believed he was an ally, obviously, which meant…

"Do you know who did it?" she said.

"Potter didn't tell you?"

She shook her head. "He said he couldn't see. Too many Death Eaters in the way."

Clever boy.

"Then that is the story we must stick to."

"But if you know who…"

"You-Know-Who," he interrupted, "has been led to believe a different version of events. It would be best for us all if he continues to do so."

"He thinks…" Minerva hesitated, her eyes widening. "You, Severus?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter. The point is, my cover remains intact. That is something we can use to our advantage, all the more so now that Albus is gone."

"Albus. I still can't believe…"

"Nor can I, though we don't have the luxury of dwelling on what's happened. We can only prepare ourselves for what's to come."

Severus paused, realizing he'd come to a crossroads. On one hand, he could let the future play out as Dumbledore had intended, branding himself as a traitor when he took over as headmaster. On the other… why not tell Minerva the truth? Now that he'd led Voldemort to believe he was still working as a spy…

"Now that Albus is gone," he continued, "the school will fall into his hands. You must realize that."

"The Order will never allow…"

"The Ministry has already been infiltrated. It's only a matter of time before it's completely under his control. Once that happens, Hogwarts will face the same fate. The Order will not have the power to stop it."

Minerva's nostrils flared, defensiveness clearly at war with common sense. The latter won out, a muttered curse followed by a heavy sigh.

"So," she said. "What do we do?"

"Naturally, he'll want to put someone loyal in charge. Someone he believes he can trust. As such, I have positioned myself…"

"You mean to take my job?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I fail to see a better alternative," he said. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to serve under Headmistress Lestrange. Headmaster Greyback, perhaps?"

"Certainly not!"

"If we hope to protect the students, retain any sort of power…"

"I understand." She sighed. "I can't say I like it, but I do understand."

Of course she didn't like it. The only silver lining in Dumbledore's death was her own ascension, inheriting a position that couldn't have been better suited to her personality. She'd already taken up residence in the Headmaster's Office, seeming right at home behind the ornate desk.

"Minerva," he said quietly. "I do not want this job, nor do I intend to hold it for even a second longer than necessary. When the time comes, I will gladly surrender it back to you."

Clearly, this was what she needed to hear. She nodded, leaning back in her chair.

"Will you be returning for the funeral?"

"I'm afraid I cannot. If I am to maintain my cover…"

"Yes," she interrupted. "I suppose it wouldn't make sense to attend the funeral of the man you murdered."

He winced, knowing she would've believed that if he'd done things Dumbledore's way. Now more than ever, he was glad he'd found an alternate solution. Would it make any difference? He couldn't say quite yet. But at least he had options now, paths that wouldn't have been open to him if he'd stuck with the original plan.

With that thought, he bid her good night, his mind already humming with possibilities.


In the end, Severus did attend the funeral. He watched from a distance, safely concealed under a Disillusionment Charm. It was the best he could do to pay his respects, though he couldn't find it in him to grieve. He'd come to terms with Dumbledore's death long before it happened. Now he had precious little time to deal with the aftermath.

With that in mind, he returned to Spinner's End, eager to continue his research.

"Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry…"

Yes, yes, but what did it mean?

"While that fragment of soul remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die."

Severus had gone through countless books since the night of Dumbledore's death. His sitting room was cluttered with them, towering piles obscuring the dusty old furniture. Dark magic. Blood magic. Archaic spells from centuries ago and everything in between. He scoured them all, unable to shake the feeling that he already knew the answer. Something familiar, like a dream mostly forgotten yet still embedded in his subconscious somewhere… what the bloody hell was it?

It was past midnight when he forced himself to take a break, rubbing his eyes as he fixed himself a pot of coffee. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a full night's sleep, but it didn't matter. He refused to rest until he found the answers he was looking for.

Stifling a yawn, he thumbed through a worn old copy of Secrets of the Darkest Art. Unlike most of his books, he'd only read it once, so many years ago that he couldn't quite recall…

HORCRUX

The word hit him like a Stunner. He jerked in response, spilling cold coffee all over his shirt.

Fragment of soul… immortality… a supreme act of evil…

Oh yes, he remembered now. He'd read about Horcruxes as a teenager, both fascinated and repulsed by the implications. Now? He only felt the latter, though that didn't stop him from absorbing every bit of information he could find.

It wasn't particularly helpful. Yes, there was some use in knowing that Horcruxes were hidden in random objects, but he could've deduced that on his own. The bloody ring… that diary years before… indeed, it all made sense now, though his most pressing question remained unanswered.

How could a Horcrux be destroyed without harming the object that contained it? Or the person, to be more precise?

Secrets of the Darkest Art had nothing to say on this subject. Another couple hours and he found two more books that mentioned Horcruxes, but only in passing.

All you need to know about Horcruxes, the final book said, is that you're better off not knowing anything at all.

He slammed it shut, cursing under his breath as he stumbled upstairs. A few minutes of sleep, just enough to clear his head…


Severus awoke at noon, wincing at the bright sunlight that poured in through the open curtains. He jerked them closed, muttering to himself as he stepped into the shower.

Additional research wasn't an option. That was doubly true now that he'd exhausted his own collection. Yes, there were other resources, but he didn't have time to seek them out. First, he had to get Harry to a safe location.

How was he supposed to manage that? He didn't have a clue. All he knew was that he couldn't afford to wait. Harry would be turning 17 in less than a month. By then, Voldemort would be fully prepared, determined to capture him at the very moment he lost his protection.

No. That wasn't going to happen. It couldn't. But how to avoid it?

When the answer came to him, his first instinct was to reject it. He scowled, he grumbled, he cursed, wracking his brain for some other solution. Unfortunately, there was none to be found. All he could do was scrawl a few words on a bit of parchment, sighing heavily as he sat down to wait.

The response arrived shortly thereafter, deposited on his kitchen table as he forced himself to eat a bit of lunch.

Hello Severus,

I'd be happy to meet you. Please name the time and place.

Sincerely,
Remus Lupin

Meeting with Lupin was strange enough. Inviting the werewolf to his home? Downright absurd. Nonetheless, Severus fired off a second message, putting away his books before he summoned Lily's box.


Harry had never been so tired. Changing into his pajamas felt like an enormous effort, his muscles aching as he collapsed on the mattress. Still, he couldn't fall asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Dumbledore's face, mouth forever fixed in a tiny smile.

It should've been comforting, knowing the headmaster hadn't suffered. Instead, Harry was furious, though he couldn't understand why. All he could do was lie there, staring up at the ceiling just as he'd done a year ago. Sirius, Dumbledore… they'd both sworn to protect him, only to sacrifice themselves when he'd needed them most. Even his own parents…

"Potter."

He shot up in bed, scrambling for his wand as he tried to figure out where the whisper had come from. There by his closet, a shadowy figure dressed in black… he jammed his glasses on his face, gasping in astonishment.

"Snape?!"