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Defeating the Dark Lord
7) Taking Down the Dark Lord
"Harry, you can't - "
One hand on Severus' arm, Harry stepped into a turn.
" - apparate inside Hogwarts..." Snape finished weakly, once they'd appeared in the Great Hall.
Harry was already striding for the doors; he called back over his shoulder, "It's my mind, Severus - I can do what I like."
Snape rolled his eyes as he lengthened his stride to catch up.
Harry caught the muttered, "typical Potter arrogance..." and bit back a grin.
Around the corner, down a corridor, and they arrived outside the Defence classroom. Green eyes met black for a timeless moment, communicating everything that would never be expressed aloud; a solemn nod, and they slipped into the room, instinctively separating to flank the doorway.
Voldemort was leaning casually against the teacher's desk.
"Harry, Ssseverus," he greeted them with a mocking smile.
"Hello, Tom," Harry replied.
Voldemort beckoned Snape forward with a lazy forefinger, "Come here, Ssseverus. I must reward you for bringing Harry Potter to me..."
Snape tensed, and slowly brought his eyes up to stare Voldemort in the face.
"No."
There was a long moment of silence: Voldemort straightened, red eyes narrowing in anger, and when he spoke at last, it was in a long, angry hiss, "Ssssseverussss... come here."
A muscle twitched in Snape's jaw. "No."
His left hand flexed, just slightly, and Harry knew that his Mark would be starting to burn, conveying Voldemort's displeasure.
Severus was staring directly into the Dark Lord's eyes, locked in a silent battle. As the moment stretched on, the tension thickened, neither man willing to back down...
And then Voldemort blinked, languidly, like a cat.
"Ah, Sseverus... you would betray me? Me, Severus?"
He laughed, a cold cruel sound that echoed in the empty classroom.
"You cannot." It was stated simply, as a fact; and then his voice lowered to a near hiss, "You belong to me, Severus... you are mine."
Snape inhaled sharply, a tremor wracking his body as the burning pain from his Mark intensified: but his eyes were burning too, blazing with anger and savage determination, and his voice was low when he replied, "I'm not yours. I haven't been yours for a long time... since before the Potters died."
His nostrils flared, breathing more deeply as the tremors spread throughout his body; he summoned his strength and snarled, "I'll die before I join you again."
An amused smile graced the Dark Lord's lips. "That can be arranged."
And time seemed to stop as Severus gasped, face white with pain: he doubled over, eyes impossibly wide, pupils dilated with shock. He cradled his arm near his body, breathing ragged as shudders wracked his lean frame, and he staggered and slumped sideways onto a desk.
Harry watched with mounting horror as Severus' left sleeve was torn free, revealing a Dark Mark that was blistered and seeping pus.
"You see, Severus? You took my Mark willingly, actively. And for every action, there is a... reaction."
Snape's eyes were glazed with pain, lashes fluttering weakly as Voldemort went on.
"It is a part of you... part of your very marrow... part of your soul. You cannot just leave the Death Eaters. You cannot leave me. It is a lifetime of service... or death."
On the verge of collapse, Snape didn't - or couldn't - reply. The Dark Lord took a threatening step to him -
"NO!"
- and Harry emerged from his horrified stupor, lunging forward to place his body between Severus and Voldemort.
Voldemort tilted his head to the side, watching Harry curiously. "You can't stop me, Harry."
Harry glared at the Dark Lord, "I won't let you hurt him, Riddle. Not anymore."
"What, not going to let someone die for you? It worked so well for you in the past... what is it now, four deaths? Why not make it five?"
Harry could hear Severus' harsh breathing at his back...
Voldemort was speaking again, "You have such an obsession with family, Harry; it's not healthy. Your parents are dead, so you turn to your godfather; he dies, so you turn to Severus here... Where does it end? What will it take to make you realise: you - are - alone?"
Behind him, Severus groaned and fell forward, resting his forehead against Harry's shoulder.
Not alone.
And the physical contact sparked something deep inside him, a savage need to protect the man injured and dying behind him; his magic flared wildly, lashing out to pin Voldemort in place; and as the Dark Lord panicked and tried to disapparate, Harry laughed softly.
"Oh no, Tom. This is my mind, my rules. No-one can apparate within Hogwarts... except the Headmaster."
Harry let the moment build, his magic mounting within him, the slow burning rage intensifying; taking a leaf from Snape's book, he drew his lip back in snarl as he eyed the monster before him. Faces and voices and flashes of memory were echoing in his head as Harry reminded himself why he was doing this; but really, the most significant reason for it, at this very moment, was that Severus was in pain, and once the Dark Lord was dead, the pain would stop.
It was with this final thought in mind - not for wrath, not for revenge, but with the simple aim of saving a life - that he struck, letting loose a blast of raw magic, channelled and honed within the confines of his mind.
And Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., self-styled Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, died.
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