Chapter Eleven: Break in the sun
Minerva heard the door click quietly behind Severus as he left her alone in his rooms, the potions sitting beside her on the table, a bizarre Boxing Day gift. Tears still streamed down her face, and her grief and her fury were a physical anguish. How could it be that Albus had not told her any of this? Repeatedly reassured her, in fact, that the curse was no worse, that he was fine and well, and only somewhat uncomfortable at times? And the Vow . . . that was worse. Not only worse that Severus had taken it, but that Albus knew of it and approved. Even if she could understand that on some level, it baffled her that Albus would not work to find a way around it and that he would not share it with her.
There was no doubt in her mind that Severus had told her the truth, but perhaps, she reasoned to herself, there was more to it that Albus had not told him. This notion calmed her some, but another voice told her that if that were so, why was he not interested in the improved potions? And why had he not told her of the devastating effects of the curse?
Minerva sniffed and found her handkerchief. She must look a sight, and even though there were very few people left in the castle on the day after Christmas, she did not want to try to walk from Severus's dungeon rooms to her own in Gryffindor Tower appearing as she no doubt did. She got up and went into Severus's Spartan bathroom. She grimaced looking at her reflection in the mirror. Red, swollen, blotchy . . . and suddenly quite old. She cast a Glamour to hide the effects of her crying jag, returned to the sitting room to retrieve the potions and their formulas, then she left.
Instead of returning to her own rooms, however, she went to the Headmaster's Office. He wasn't there, and she continued up to his private suite to seek him there. He had been going to see Aberforth that afternoon, as they hadn't seen each other the day before, on Christmas. If he hadn't returned yet, she would wait for him.
Minerva set the potions on the table in their wire carrier before poking her head into Albus's study and then his bedroom. Not back yet. She took a seat on the sofa in the sitting room and waited, trying not to think about what she had just learned. Trying to keep herself calm. She succeeded in the latter, but not in the former.
The more that Minerva turned over in her mind all that Severus had told her, the more she was certain that Albus had never intended to tell her. Severus took the Vow over the summer. Albus sustained his injury at approximately the same time. More than once in the intervening months, she had heard them arguing about something, the argument always ending upon her arrival. Even when afflicted by the curse, Severus had argued with Albus about something—the very night that she had told him that she would save his life by allowing him to make love to her—at the time, Minerva had thought it regarded the Adfectus and its cure. Now Severus's reaction to her news that night made more sense to her, as did his words, his desire for her to reconsider her decision and to think of what such a thing would mean to her.
At the time, it had meant that she would be saving the life of a friend, a fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix, and a valuable weapon in the fight against Voldemort. But even if it had only been to save his life, with no consideration of his value to the Order, she would have done it. Minerva had long since genuinely forgiven Severus for all that she was aware he had done when in the service of Voldemort, and for all that she could only guess he might have participated in. She had grown fond of the younger wizard, even loved him in a way, though not at all as he apparently loved her—even though he had been unaware of it himself until he had been hit by the spell that September. Minerva quirked a slight smile despite herself. He seemed to have a particular fondness for Gryffindor witches; it had been the peril to a Gryffindor witch that had turned Severus toward Albus and away from Voldemort. She had once known a Slytherin witch with a very strong fondness for a certain type of Gryffindor wizard. That Slytherin's first husband, Reginald, had been such a Gryffindor wizard, as was Albus . . . and her brother Malcolm. Minerva's smile faded as she thought of Malcolm.
Was Albus to die, just as Reginald and Malcolm had? As had so many others? Murdered, killed resisting a Dark Wizard? But it seemed to Minerva that Albus was not resisting. What good he thought would come of his walking to his own death, Minerva could not begin to imagine. What would Gertrude say to her if she could? Minerva fought back tears. There had to be more to Albus's plan than just death, even more than simply saving the Order's spy—what good, after all, was a spy who had killed the Order's leader? None whatsoever.
Minerva began to pace. Perhaps she should have gone to Gryffindor Tower to wait. He might have returned there first. But even if he had, he would look for her in his suite when she wasn't in her own rooms. She hoped he would, and that he wasn't down in her rooms waiting for her to return. It was better to speak with him here, where there was far less chance that they could be overheard than even in her rooms.
Minerva went down to the Headmaster's Office. Dilys was in her portrait, doing embroidery. Of all the portraits there, Minerva liked her the best, and she seemed most willing to comply with requests other than those that came from the Headmaster. Eliphelet would, as well, Minerva knew, but she still found him annoying and preferred not to have to rely on the smarmy portrait.
"Dilys, please pop down to my rooms and if Albus is there, tell him I'm here. If he's not, leave word with the Knight so that we aren't waiting at opposite ends of the castle for each other."
Minerva returned to the sitting room. It was likely Albus would go to her rooms first upon returning to the castle, since it was a holiday. His visits with Aberforth were never very long, either. It couldn't be too much later before he returned. In the meantime, Minerva tried to sit quietly, but then she paced again, and it seemed that every time she turned around, the potions bottles that Severus had given her leapt to her attention.
Finally, as the afternoon grew late and the sky darkened, she heard Albus's slow step on the stairs to his suite. She turned to face the door.
"Good afternoon, my dear!" Albus greeted her with a smile. "Did you have a nice time with Severus this afternoon?"
Minerva swallowed, incapable of reconciling Albus's warm, cheerful greeting with what she had learned from Severus less than two hours before. She simply looked at him. Albus's brow furrowed.
"What is it, Minerva?" The large bottles on the table caught his eye. He paused. "What are these?"
"You know what they are, Albus," Minerva replied. "They are the potions that Severus informs me you will not take."
"The potion I have him brewing me is perfectly adequate to its purpose," Albus said, shaking his head. "I told him not to waste his time on experiments. He has enough to be getting on with as it is."
"'Adequate to its purpose'? And precisely what purpose would that be, Albus?" Minerva asked.
Albus looked at her. "What did Severus tell you when he gave you these?" he asked quietly.
"The truth. What you have not told me. That the potion you are taking is a kind of palliative, that you will be dead inside a year, probably sooner, but that you—" Minerva's voice broke. She took a breath and continued, "—that you refuse to try anything new, and that these potions may be as good as a cure." Minerva waited for Albus to tell her that she was wrong, that Severus was mistaken. She waited in vain.
Albus turned, looking away, and said nothing.
"Tell me, Albus, is he wrong? You will not see a Healer. Is this why?"
"Minerva . . . he ought not have told you," Albus said with a sigh. He shook his head. "Please believe me, Minerva. The potion I have been taking is fine. And no potion he could brew me—" He shook his head again.
"What? No potion he could brew you would do what? Save your life? How do you know? Is it true, then? What he said about the curse? Is it killing you?"
"We all must die someday, Minerva. It is foolish to believe that such a thing can be delayed indefinitely."
"That is not what I am asking, Albus. Answer me. If you love me, tell me: is the curse killing you?"
"If not the curse, then something will, in the end. I did not wish you to know . . . to cause you more sorrow, drawn out over months . . ." Tears filled his eyes. "I thought I could protect you at least from that."
"And when were you going to tell me?"
Albus shook his head. "I had hoped . . . I hoped it would be unnecessary," he whispered.
"Unnecessary. Unnecessary?" Minerva fought back tears. "And why would that be? You weren't going to tell me about it at all, trying to 'spare me,' were you? And what of the Unbreakable Vow? Were you going to tell me of that, or were you going to 'spare me'?"
"He told you of that? How? Why? Oh, gods . . ." Albus seemed to sway, and he grabbed the back of a chair with his left hand. "No, no . . ."
"Yes, he did. Severus told me about the curse and about the Vow. He said he thinks you aren't willing to take the improved potions because you are trying to make it easier on him."
Albus collapsed into a chair, bowed over, holding his head in his one good hand. Minerva could hear the tears in his voice as he answered her.
"I wanted to make it easier on you both . . . why would he do this? Why would he cause us all more pain?"
"Albus, please, tell me you have some other plan, a plan of which Severus has no clue. Please, tell me that you don't plan to have him fulfill the Vow. Please, Albus, please," Minerva begged.
Albus simply shook his head, unable to respond or even to look at Minerva, his eyes covered by his hand.
"How could you?" Minerva asked. "How could you?"
Albus gasped, Minerva could see his shoulders shaking as silent sobs racked his body, and all he could do was shake his head. She had seen Albus weep before, but never like this.
"Do you have a death wish?" Minerva asked, unrelenting. "Why would you do this to us all? You blame Severus, but you are the one who hid it all from me, who lied to me. And he has tried to urge you to find another plan, and you cannot say that you have one."
"I—I—I—I have—I have—I have thought, but there's—" Albus choked, "—there's nothing to be done. It is best this way." He took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. "Things might still change . . . but I do not believe they will. There is nothing . . . nothing to change this course, and I think it is . . . it is best this way."
"That cannot be so," Minerva replied. She Summoned a clean handkerchief from Albus's room. Her own was already too well used. She handed it to Albus. "Here. Here, Albus, take this."
Albus took the handkerchief and wiped his face and blew his nose. His sobs had subsided, but his tears had not. Minerva sat and looked at him, the man she loved, the one who held her heart, the one for whom she would do anything. She could see that Albus had thought he was doing it for her, sparing her, that keeping it from her hadn't been a decision he had taken lightly. But he was wrong.
"Please, Albus, explain it to me," she said more gently, setting her anger aside. "You know that I have always been aware that you would die before I, and that in times of trouble such as these, your life . . . your life would always be in danger. I understand that. But this seems very different to me. You are complicit in your own death, in your own murder. And allowing Severus to do this, to carry this out . . . what would that do to him, let alone to me?"
Albus shook his head again. "It is not different. We would be saving many. And I am old, Minerva. Severus is right, too, about the curse . . . I feel its effects more greatly as the days wear on. But I will be well enough to see this through. To guide Harry as far as I am able, and to save another young soul, as well. That is why Severus took the Vow. Do not blame him for that. It is as I would have wished it. He did the right thing." His voice was low and still choked with unshed tears.
"How could it be right for him to have agreed to kill you? No, Vowed to kill you. And if he Vowed to do it, why has he not done so yet? There is so much I do not understand. I need to know it all now, Albus, my love. Now that I know this, I must know all that you do."
Albus nodded. "I will tell you." He still hadn't been able to raise his eyes to her.
"Albus, look at me. Will you tell me? Will you tell me all?" Minerva hated asking him that, as though she did not trust him, but in this, if he thought it was for her protection, he might be tempted to withhold something, and it might be just that which would hold the key out of this situation.
Albus looked at her and, his eyes filling with tears again, he whispered, "I will tell you everything, Minerva, everything that I know, and answer any questions you have. I only wanted to save you from more pain."
"It is too late for that now, Albus. I need to understand."
Albus nodded. He told her of the Unbreakable Vow, of Draco's task, of what he believed would happen to Draco if he failed to fulfil the task, as Albus believed he would be unable to do. "And yet, Minerva, if he does not kill me, someone will do it. And if Severus does not fulfil the terms of the Vow when Draco is unable to kill me, Severus will die. And I have little doubt that with both of us dead and Severus a clear traitor to Tom, though a dead one, there will be little hope for the rest of you. I believe that circumstances will come together so that either Severus kills me and escapes with Draco, or Severus does not kill me, Severus dies, I am killed by another or taken captive and killed by Tom, and the wizarding world falls into darkness without Severus to protect Harry and to continue to lead the Dark Lord astray and to slow his progress.
"If Severus lives, he can continue to protect Harry, as he has done since Harry reentered the wizarding world. He can continue to do what he is able to stymie Tom's plans and to give Harry the time he needs to complete certain tasks—and I will tell you of that, as well, my dear—and then to prepare to defeat Tom, as I have faith he will do, but only if the conditions are right. And with Severus and me both dead, I do not believe that Harry would survive long enough to do what he must."
Minerva thought about what Albus had told her. "All right, putting aside for the moment the problem of . . . keeping you from being killed at all, why must Severus do it? If Draco cannot, we could put him into hiding. Severus would die, of course, but . . . if it's you or him, I don't know as I can say that he is more important than you are, and that's not even taking my own personal feelings into account."
Albus sighed. "There is another part of Draco's task of which Severus is unaware, and he does not know that I know of it. Draco has been fiddling with the wards, trying to find a weak point. The other part of his task is to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and for me to be killed at that time. Do not think that if Draco fails to kill me, there will not stand others ready to kill or to kidnap me. An attack on Hogwarts and the death of her Headmaster in that attack—possibly Harry's death as well, and even others—that would be another blow to the wizarding world. Tom would exploit it to exert greater control, using his minions in the Ministry, with an eye to eventually taking over the Ministry altogether. And Hogwarts, too, of course."
Minerva's brow furrowed. "But . . . if you allow this to happen, even with Severus killing you, wouldn't the dangers be the same?"
"Not as grave. Severus would still be in position with the Death Eaters, an even better position after having apparently proven his loyalty by killing me, and Harry . . . we would do what we could to ensure Harry's safety. Severus has promised that. No Unbreakable Vow, but a promise made on debts, regrets, and a love he once unwittingly betrayed. He will save Lily's son if it is in his power."
"He can't do that if he's dead," Minerva pointed out.
"Another reason that he must carry out the Unbreakable Vow," Albus said with a sigh, closing his eyes.
"You mean, another reason that Severus must kill you, in your opinion," Minerva replied.
"Mmm." Albus looked exhausted.
"It is past dinner time," Minerva said. "We should have something to eat. But we will continue to discuss this."
"I'm not hungry. At all. I couldn't eat," Albus said wearily.
"Later, then," Minerva responded, perfectly willing to forego a meal herself. "What if Draco does manage it? Will you defend yourself?"
Albus shook his head. "I believe this is fated to be. And although I doubt that Draco can do it, if it appears he might . . . I do not want this sin on his soul, Minerva. I would try to talk him out of it if I could."
"You wouldn't defend yourself . . ." Minerva sighed. She hadn't really expected him to say that he would curse Draco into oblivion, but he might at least do something to hold him at bay. "Apart from believing this is the best course of the few available, you seem so convinced that this is fated. Why? Is it your old debts? Surely, the defeat of Grindelwald and all you have done since has made up for any of your youthful misjudgments or errors."
"Ah, Minerva, but there have been so many since. So many errors. So many things I should have done differently, mistakes I should have avoided. They are debts to be paid, as well. You do not judge them so, but I do. And even were they not . . . dying to save others, that is never a bad way to die. The only true sacrifice I will make is leaving you, but as you have pointed out, that will happen someday, anyway. It is the fate of all men, to die."
"And if I'm not prepared to make this sacrifice, Albus? It would be my sacrifice, as well, which you seem not to realise. And Severus's. What would it do to him? He has come so far. And you, there is so much good you have left to do. We must think of another way. This cannot be what Fate has in store for us."
Albus sighed. "It is." He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at Minerva. "You remember that I told you of a prophecy that was made before I married Dervilia? There was another prophecy, not at that time, but many years later. I never told you of it because of its nature—and because of your disinclination to believe in such things, anyway. It was shortly after the war had ended, after we defeated Grindelwald, but before the Muggle war had come to a complete close. Early April nineteen forty-five—I believe it was the same day that the photograph was taken that you keep by the bed. I was at the Ministry, just leaving it, when Cassandra Vablatsky arrived with her small entourage. She saw me and her face grew pale. She appeared about to pass out, but she did not." Albus paused.
"Yes?" Minerva urged him to finish.
"She drew me aside. She said that I was fated to die at the hand of one who loved me, and that if I did not, I would die a most terrible death, one filled with pain and agony. Escape from a death in agony lay at the end of the wand of one whom I loved." Albus let out a deep breath. "You see why I would prefer Severus to kill me than to suffer at the hands of other Death Eaters. You can imagine what they might wish to do to me if they had me in their grasp, if I were unable to defend myself. At the end of Severus's wand, I might meet a death with at least a little dignity . . . and less . . . less pain." He averted his eyes, as if ashamed.
"And I am certain that although Severus loves you," Minerva replied, "that love would be sorely tested if you were to force him to carry out the Vow."
Albus let out another sigh. "He has become more intransigent since he was struck by the Adfectus in September." He gave a slight, rueful grin. "I believe he discovered he loves you more than he does me, my dear."
"Don't joke, Albus! That is a terrible way to test his love for you, and a terrible thing to ask him to do in order to atone for Lily's death—kill another whom he loves," Minerva said. "Would you ask such a thing of me? I love you, I love you more than anyone." She drew her wand and looked at it then looked back at Albus. "Would you ask me to take this wand and kill you?"
"No! No, of course not! I can scarcely bear the thought that you know of the Vow and of what must happen. I could never ask such a thing of you. I would rather be tortured to death than that; you must know it."
"Then why ask it of Severus? I know you care for him. You have said that you love him. You must, or you would not believe that death at his hands is fated to be."
"For one, if he doesn't, he will die. He also has killed before. More than once. And he has done other things even more hideous than murder. You know that."
"In his old life," Minerva said. "He has repented that, truly. I think that if he had seen a way out of Voldemort's ranks earlier, he would have left sooner. It was only when he realised what danger he had placed Lily in that he felt that Azkaban—or his likely death at the hands of his fellow Death Eaters—was a better option than continuing to do what he had already come to hate."
"He may have regretted joining him, but he did not regret it enough to do anything about it until it was too late, and much evil done and more set in motion. I do not say this as an indictment of Severus, Minerva. He would tell you the same thing. And his repentance has grown over the years. But nonetheless, he will be able to kill me, and it is at least a killing that is a mercy and not a mere murder."
Minerva hesitated. He had told her everything. She would do the same. "Severus will not be able to kill you, Albus," she said quietly.
Albus blanched, then stared at her a long moment, trying to comprehend what she had just told him. "Did you ask him not to?"
"No. Severus told me. He said that was why he was telling me everything. Because he will not kill you. He said that if you are unprepared for that, it will go very badly for everyone, just as you fear. You need to be prepared for the fact that he has no intention of fulfilling the Vow, regardless of the circumstances. He hopes that I will be able to persuade you to find another option."
Albus sat silently, looking down and swallowing. "You know the other option now, Minerva. A slow, painful death filled with agony." He nodded. "But we will find another way . . . Lupin . . . Lupin has been trying to sway werewolves to our side. He will give up. He will join Voldemort. Severus can make it easier for him . . . before we are both dead. And Lupin can report to you after I am gone. We will work something out." He nodded again. "I will . . . I will come to terms with it. I have seen and borne pain before. And it will pass. As all things do."
"Lupin? Becoming the next spy, with all that would be expected of a werewolf in Voldemort's ranks? And you, dying an anguished death at the hands of Voldemort or his Death Eaters? How is that a solution for anything? That is utter madness," Minerva cried. "You are ensuring the prophecy, creating it, Albus. If you had never heard it, you would not think this was at all a rational course of action."
Albus shook his head slowly. "It is too late to speculate about that now. But perhaps . . . perhaps I can still choose . . . choose the time and place of my death," he said thoughtfully. He looked at Minerva. "It would be better to die of the curse that eats at my hand and creeps its way through me, as dreadful as that may sound to you, than it would be for me to fall into the hands of Death Eaters. Surely you must see that. What Tom would do to me if I were helpless in his hands . . . it would make what happened to Reginald seem quick and merciful."
"There must be a third option," Minerva cried, remembering all too clearly her horror on hearing how Gertrude Gamp's first husband had died a lengthy, tortured death. "There simply must be!"
Albus laughed drily. "Unless you truly wish to kill me to spare me such a death, I see none."
Minerva began to weep again. "No, no, there is another option. We will find it. We will."
Albus shook his head. "I have tried to look at this from every angle, my dearest Minerva, ever since Severus told me of the Vow. I have no desire to die now—though death must come eventually—but I will do what I must to keep Draco from staining his soul with murder and to help Harry set his foot on the path he must take if he is to defeat Tom. It seemed that the Vow, once taken, could be used to the advantage of the Light and that my death might have some meaning, some use. And I believed that once I was dead, Hogwarts would be spared for a time. Yet now that Severus refuses to do his part . . . that makes it worse, not better, as I am sure you can see now. But if I die soon enough, if I die of this curse, we might be able to save Draco and avert the effects of the Vow altogether. If Draco's task becomes moot, and we . . . we bring him into hiding, perhaps with Narcissa, the Unbreakable Vow will be satisfied with respect to the boy's safety, and Tom's task for him will have no bearing on it, as long as you act swiftly enough upon my death that he doesn't give him another equally dreadful assignment. If we can do that, Minerva, Severus at least will live, Draco will survive unharmed, Lupin can continue as he has done, and Harry will have the time he needs to defeat Riddle. We can help to ensure the future of the wizarding world. I know that if we are willing to make this sacrifice now, Harry will be able to do what must be done to save everyone from the Darkness Riddle would bring. And I believe that you, too, will live to see that day."
Albus moved over to sit beside her on the couch. "Do not cry, my love, my dearest one," he said, his voice breaking as he put an arm around her. "This is what I wished to avoid. Better that only I suffer knowing that our time together was limited, very strictly and clearly defined, than to have you suffer knowing it, as well. My death is inevitable. It is merely a matter of how I shall die."
Minerva turned her face into Albus's shoulder and wept, clutching his robes, and he wept into her hair, and neither moved for a very long time.
Albus sat on the sofa in Minerva's sitting room, awaiting her return as she had requested. He disliked it when she left the Hogwarts grounds by herself for any reason. Leaving alone, going anywhere on her own, made Minerva vulnerable, but she had insisted that she must go to Edinburgh and that she had some other visits to make, as well, assuring him that she would be Apparating to carefully selected destinations, and, no, he could not accompany her. She had left him with strict instructions to begin taking the new potions that Severus had given her.
Albus looked at the bottles, one containing a rusty orange potion, and the other, one of claret red. He still hadn't taken a dose of either of them. He had not said he would. He could not. It would not help anything. If he allowed the curse to spread, if he ceased taking any potions at all, except those to relieve pain, he could be dead within two or three months. That should be early enough to change the requirements of Draco's task and to avert the consequences of the Unbreakable Vow.
Since their tearful conversation two days before, Albus had been doing all he could to reassure Minerva, and trying, too, to do all that she asked of him. All but take the potions. She had been adamant when she left him that morning, though. She said that if he didn't begin to take them on his own, she would enlist help and force him to. Albus couldn't imagine that, but he also couldn't imagine truly defending himself against her, so if she actually did raise her wand against him—to Stun him, or to use an Imperio, or whatever else she might have in mind—she wouldn't even need help from anyone else. But Minerva couldn't have been serious.
He looked at the potions again. They were not a temptation, Albus told himself. He couldn't take them. If he did . . .
The door opened and Minerva stepped into the room. Albus thought she looked better than she had since Christmas, at least. Possibly better than she had in weeks. Relaxed and rejuvenated. And it wasn't a Glamour.
"Good afternoon, Albus." She looked at the potions bottles and narrowed her eyes. "You did not take any of either potion."
"I am sorry, my dear, but you must see that this is for the best."
Minerva crossed the room and stood before him, looking down at him, her face showing her disapproval . . . and something else.
"You will be happy to know that I have come to a decision, Albus. One that will be for the best. For the best for everyone." Minerva looked at him hard, then down at his hand.
Albus's eyebrows rose. "You came to a decision?" He hadn't even been aware she had any decision to make. There was nothing for her to do. Nothing except harangue him about taking the potions until she realised that it was for the best that he didn't. He hated to deny her anything, but she would eventually come to see it was for the best. Unless she could prevail upon Severus to change his mind, Minerva could only watch him die. Watch him sicken and die. A lump rose in his throat. He had not wanted that for her. Albus cleared his throat. "What decision is that?"
"You may be Headmaster and the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, but in this, Albus, my beloved, you will do as I say. My requests of you shall become your will and your deed. And then in the end, regardless of how any other part of my plan might work out, though I have confidence in it, in the end . . ." Minerva winced slightly and took a breath. "In the end, Albus, the prophecy will be realised." She caressed his face gently, her eyes soft, and nodded. "The prophecy will be realised."
NEXT: Chapter Twelve, Till the sun breaks down
Minerva tries to set her plan in motion and must take an extreme measure when Albus, facing his fate, does not cooperate. (Late December 1996 – early January 1997.)
Characters: Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall.
A/N: If you would like to know how Gertrude's first husband, Reginald, died, Minerva learns that in the chapter, "An Evening in Hogsmeade" in Resolving a Misunderstanding. The story of Albus's youth and his later defeat of Grindelwald is told in the chapters, "Tale of a Young Wizard," "Sorrows of a Young Wizard," and "Defeating Darkness." (Remember, this was all conceived before Deathly Hallows, so it is significantly different from the back-story in that.)