A/N: My updates for this fic seem to be getting quicker, don't they? :) This chapter turned a little darker in spots, so I apologize for that, but I'm going to blame that on the Horcruxes. Some of you have been wanting to know whom Severus married. Let me assure you that you will in the end know her name. The reason why he hasn't said it thus far is because it's too painful for him to say her name quite yet. As always, thank you so much for your lovely reviews and comments. I truly do appreciate every single one of you who have stuck with me so far. That said, enjoy.
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place
Barely blinking, Severus watched the old house Muggles couldn't see that was tucked neatly between numbers 11 and 13. Every now and then, he'd catch a light turn on inside Number 12, but most of the time the house remained dark. As yet another vehicle sped past and blocked his view of the house for half a second, he let out a soft sigh, his mind wandering briefly. He still wasn't certain how he was going to get inside the house.
The longer he stood there, the more he pondered about if he could keep this up. The darkness he'd first noticed when dealing with Riddle's diary was growing inside him. He was aware of it now, feeling it eat away at his soul bit-by-bit. In fact, more times than he'd care to admit after the Horcrux's destruction, he had woken up, drenched in sweat, after having yet another hellish nightmare, full of murder and mayhem. Without a doubt now, he knew that if Narcissa hadn't been with him in the library that day, he'd have been incapable of destroying the diary. The darkness in that Horcrux had affected him greatly, seeping into his very soul and poisoning it. But he had known the dangers before he had undertook this mission, having heard from Harry all about the effects the Horcruxes had on Harry, Weasley, and Granger during their hunt. He had assumed, though, that his Occlumency would have shielded him from the effects, but that certainly wasn't the case he had learned.
As a light turned on in one of the upper floor windows again, Severus leaned back against the sturdy oak tree. He wasn't worried about being noticed by any of the passersby, Muggle or otherwise, as his Disillusionment charm would prevent that. No, his mind remained on if he would have enough strength to complete his mission. Another symptom of the Horcrux's poisoning, he decided glumly.
Perhaps instead of using a bit of Narcissa's hair that had unfortunately transferred onto himself, he would go back to Narcissa in person. Explain things to her. Have her help him get into Grimmauld and her sister's vault. She must have suspected something as it was, being the intelligent witch she was. She could probably even convince Lucius to help as well. The three of them together would have no problem with the Horcruxes.
A different pain arose within him suddenly. A familiar ache deep within him. The darkness latched onto it like the parasite it was and fed on it like it was three-course meal.
It wasn't Narcissa whom he wanted. Not even Lucius with her.
He drew in a shaky breath, forcing himself to breathe. He needed to calm himself. To stem the bleeding of his emotions and stop the darkness from gaining even more ground.
Whom he wanted by his side was the one person he couldn't have there as she had been taken from him and murdered.
Without warning, a rage so intense shot through his whole being. His eyes darkened as he heard the voice in his mind purr how he should have his revenge and seek out those responsible for the deaths of his wife and unborn child. How wonderful it would be to see the blood pour out of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestranges' bodies. To hear theirs screams fill the night skies. To kill them before they would ever get near his wife.
He could almost smell the thick scent of death. He could almost hear the screams, the pleas for their lives. He could almost see the light leave their eyes, the blood painted on the walls. All it would take was just a few slashes of his wand once he found them, and they would be no more. He'd have avenged the deaths of his wife and child.
Another voice, weaker and barely noticeable, joined in then. This voice sounded as if it were trying to be heard over the blinding rage inside him. As if it were fighting the darkness within him. And just that, he closed his eyes and focused more on that second voice; a voice that had calmed him so many times before, the voice that strangely enough sounded like his dead wife's.
He clung to her voice like a drowning man wishing to be saved. He clutched onto her memory like a child with a teddy bear on a stormy night. With all his strength, weak as it was now, he held onto her, never wanting to let go. He let his mind recall their memories together, allowing them to fill him and drown out the terrible darkness.
He recalled their first meeting after she had joined the staff and his riling her up with his comment about her poor choice in clothing. The memory then went to another. The Yule Ball, where she had followed after him and requested a dance—that he had denied her of just out of spite. He then saw the memory of her congratulating him on the Defense post. She had been the only one to do so. It wasn't until the memory skipped again to after he had been rushed to St. Mungo's that he felt the strength return. He could almost feel her hand holding his, as the memory flashed in his mind. He could recall her smile, warm and kind, as she told him that day he could take her strength until he was fully healed and promise to never reveal to anyone that he had done so.
He needed her strength now more than ever. But the past, he knew, wouldn't help him. So, he then would look onto their future. She was always there by his side. He just had to open his eyes and see her. In his timeline, it had taken a tragedy in order for that to happen, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be the case this time. The corner of his lip turned upwards. At least not if he had anything to say about it.
It was easier to breathe now. To think. He had managed to push back the darkness again.
Having seen no movement for quite a bit now, Severus pulled his wife's journal from his breast pocket of his robes. His fingers lightly passed over his wife's elegant cursive for a moment before he turned to the page he had been looking for. He glanced back up at Number 12 to make certain there was no change and then back down to the journal when he decided all was fine, rereading her entry.
Too many Slytherins over the years have lost themselves to the darkness, seduced by its powers. Acceptance seems to be a key ingredient to tell if one will succumb or not. Reg, for example, did everything he could to be seen as the perfect son. Would it have stopped him from taking the Dark Mark if he had just once been told that he didn't have to share his parents' beliefs in order to be loved by them? No. That can't be all it is. It has to be a series of things. He wanted his parents' love, to make them proud. Yet after time, this want feigned as he realized what he had sacrificed. What if he had been told before his death, before he took the Mark, of that? The sacrifices for the Greater Good . . .
Severus gave a quiet snort. He had tested out that theory with Dumbledore. So far, it seemed to have made some significant changes. What with Neville's parents being spared the cruel fate of insanity.
A thought then slowly occurred to him. He glanced back at Number 12. Regulus had taken the Dark Mark, and his parents were proud of that. He wondered if they knew the full story of what had happened. As legend went, Mrs. Black never ventured out of her house after her husband died, so it was possible he was correct in his assumption. He reached towards his left arm, rolling up his sleeve. He grimaced at the deep scar that was the only reminder of the Dark Mark. It would have to do.
Standing tall once again, Severus glanced left then right before he removed the Disillusionment charm. He strode across the street soon after and up the walkway to the black door. He knocked once. Neither Kreacher nor Mrs. Black would recognize him, as he hadn't ever been there before yet. In fact, he was pretty certain that Kreacher would, upon seeing the Mark, consider him just another Death Eater and not spare him another look. When the door opened, Severus glanced down at the house elf.
"Yes?" Kreacher said suspiciously, staying far enough back to prevent others from seeing him.
"I wish to speak with your Mistress," Severus answered calmly, letting the elf see the Dark Mark-shaped scar. "You may tell her that a friend of Regulus's is here." He caught Kreacher's eyes widen before the elf popped away. He stepped inside then and closed the door.
"A friend of Regulus?" a harsh voice snapped several minutes later before Mrs. Black stalked towards him from a nearby room. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "My son has been—"
"I am aware of his disappearance, ma'am," Severus interrupted coldly. So, she wasn't aware that her son had died. He had been correct after all. "That is not why I am here."
Her eyes flickered down to his Mark before she drew in a sharp breath.
"The Dark Lord gave your son something prior to his vanishing. I require that item, Mrs. Black."
Her surprise flooded her face. "The Dark Lord entrusted Reg with something? My boy?" The pride could be heard so clearly in her voice. "What is this item?"
"A gold locket." Severus caught Kreacher's flinch instantly. "I'm afraid I cannot give any further details than this; it will help restore the Dark Lord to his glory once again and allow us to finally exterminate all those pathetic Muggles." He watched Mrs. Black's smile deepen.
She snapped her fingers at Kreacher a moment later. "Go fetch it for him."
"Yes, Mistress," Kreacher replied shakily before he popped back out of the room.
"So, this locket, you say, will restore the Dark Lord?" Mrs. Black asked curiously, the wheels clearly spinning in her mind.
"Yes." Severus frowned when he heard something crash in a nearby room. Kreacher obviously was wrestling with himself in handing over the locket.
"I see." When another loud crash filtered into the room, she wore a look of extreme displeasure. "Kreacher!" she shrieked. "Stop that!" It went silent instantly, and she shook her head in response before she adopted a more pleasant tone towards Severus. "I apologize for him. He's not been quite the same since my son's disappearance."
Severus forced a polite smile and inclined his head. Yeah, he bet the elf wasn't the same.
Kreacher then popped back into the room, the gold locket tinkling softly in his shaking hands.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Give him the locket!" Mrs. Black barked, her frown deepening.
Severus held a hand out and waited. When he caught the house elf's skeleton fingers tighten around the locket a moment later, he glanced back at Mrs. Black. "Well now, I see where your elf's loyalties reside. And perhaps yours too for that matter." He turned towards the door to leave. "And here the Dark Lord always thought so highly of your family." He shook his head, feigning disappointment. "He had offered to find Regulus if you provided him with the locket, but it's clear now that—"
"No! Wait!" Mrs. Black then whirled onto the tiny house elf. "Give him the locket now, Kreacher!" she snarled. "I order you!"
The sick compulsion took over instantly, and Kreacher thrust the gold locket into Severus's hands before the house elf leapt back, torn between punishing himself and running away. The moment Severus's fingers touched the locket, though, he felt the darkness jolt alive inside him again. He inhaled sharply before he bowed. He would wait to destroy it after he had left. There was no hurry anymore.
"Excellent. Thank you, Mrs. Black." He then headed for the door.
"Wait. What about my son?" the tortured mother begged. "When will the Dark Lord—"
Severus chuckled darkly, slowly turning to her. "Perhaps you should ask your elf." Kreacher yelped in surprise. "After all, it's my understanding it was there the night your son disappeared, ma'am." He watched horror spread across her face before it morphed into pure rage. The moment he saw her wand leveled murderously on Kreacher, he took his leave. Dead elves were nothing interesting to see.
Once Severus was settled a few hours later far from the Black family home, he pulled the gold locket back out from his pocket. He had triple checked the abandoned dwelling to ensure that there were no unfortunate interruptions before he finally decided all was well for him to continue with his mission. His eyes instantly became glued to the locket as it glistened warmly in the light.
His fingers brushed over the 'S' tenderly soon after. Perhaps he wouldn't destroy this one. It would be a shame to do so after all, knowing that it once belonged to the great Founder of Slytherin House. No. He'd leave this Horcrux untouched. After all, it wasn't set in stone that all of the Horcruxes had to be destroyed.
His lips turned upwards, and the wrinkles near his eyes deepened. Yes, that was exactly what he would do this time. He would leave this Horcrux untouched and go onto the next one, which was the last one in fact. He chuckled quietly as he tenderly caressed the 'S' once more.
Perhaps he'd move on from destroying the final two Horcruxes and just hunt down his wife's murderers. Killing them would do just as much damage to the timeline as destroying the Horcruxes were doing currently, he figured. So, why not?
It couldn't be too hard to find the Lestrange brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan. They may have went into hiding after the failed attempt on the Longbottoms certainly, but they wouldn't have gone too far. They would need to know what happened to their master in order to function properly. In addition, Severus knew the brothers quite well from his full blown Death Eater days when he believed the lies. So, if he had to guess, he would bet the brothers were somewhere near a brothel, getting their other fix to make up for their failures.
Sectumsempra sounded rather appropriate for the brothers, Severus decided a moment later. They were after all his enemies. His smile deepened as his eyes darkened even more in response to his mind showing him the ghostly images of his murderous thoughts. If he were at all lucky, he'd come across Bellatrix there with the brothers as well. A quick yank of her hair, and he'd be on his way to Gringotts to destroy that hideous Hufflepuff Cup. It sounded so perfect to him. Three birds killed with one stone. He chuckled darkly. And here Albus thought it best to sacrifice the good all this time when he could have just picked off the Death Eaters one by one instead. How simple-minded he was.
No, it wasn't that. Severus quickly corrected himself. It wasn't that Albus was being simple-minded with his choices. It was that Albus didn't want his hands to get dirty and be tied to all the lost souls of predominately Slytherin House. Severus, though, didn't give a damn about getting his own hands dirty anymore. As it was, he had nothing left to lose. Life had provided that for him. So, if he wanted to slit Rabastan from ear-to-ear and stab Rodolphus repeatedly in the chest, there was nothing really preventing him from doing that anymore. He had nothing, so he'd lose nothing.
Without any warning, the terrible yet delicate sound of glass breaking nearby sent Severus's head to snap around towards the sound. His arm raised to shield himself from the spray of flying glass raining down on him like thousands of tiny daggers.
Thump!
He then hesitantly lowered his arm and caught sight of the ball that had hit the ground near his feet. His eyes narrowed on it before he slowly bent down and picked it up. When he heard soft footfalls as someone headed towards the front door, likely to retrieve their ball, he set the ball back down onto the floor and stepped into the shadows to hide himself from the intruder.
With his back pressed flush against the wall hidden in the shadows, Severus watched a young girl, no more than eleven, enter the room, her warm eyes darting wildly about as she looked for her ball. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip nervously before a wide smile suddenly took over when she saw it a moment later. She snatched it quickly and whirled around, her dark curls bouncing softly as she left once more, unaware that Severus had been watching her.
He stared where she had been for quite some time after she had left, unable to move. What the hell had he been thinking before? Killing the Lestrange brothers wouldn't do him any good. It might feel good for a second, but then it wouldn't as the realization would occur that it hadn't changed anything. His eyes glanced back down at the locket in his hands. He had to destroy that damn thing this moment. If only to remain semi-sane.
Pulling out the Basilisk venom he had bottled in a spare vial earlier after realizing that one of the Basilisk fangs had broken open somehow, he poured the venom into a nearby ceramic bowl, careful not to get any on himself, before he tossed in the gold locket quickly to get rid of the damn thing once and for all. Loud hissing and fizzing suddenly erupted from the bowl, reminding him of one of his old Muggle science experiments, the classic volcanic explosion. His eyes remained trained on the bowl, though, watching as the locket rattled violently in the venom prior to an inky gaseous blob that roared out of the gold locket and screamed its way out of the building into the sky.
Another Horcrux down. One more to go.
Severus sighed in relief, his head falling forward as his shoulders slumped. He had nearly given in to the terrible darkness yet again. What was wrong with him? He had a reason to live. He had a purpose. He was to end things once and for all to make it better for all the poor souls Albus had sacrificed needlessly. So, why then had he nearly thrown all his progress away?
He was strong-willed, stronger than most actually. Others would have chosen the easier path of redemption, but not him. He had chosen the long road, allowing himself to bear the brunt of others casting extreme doubt on him. He had endured comment after comment for years of people claiming that he was no good, that he was rotten to the core. He had pushed back against all of that with his actions in secret, allowing it only to come out after he had completed his path of redemption by giving Harry everything the boy would need in order to succeed in defeating Voldemort for good.
Yet there Severus was. Almost struck down again by another Horcrux. Seduced once more by the siren-like Dark Arts. He was proving all those who doubted him right with his actions.
His eyes fell onto where his wife's journal rested inside his breast pocket of his robes. He was letting her down. No. It was worse than that, he decided. He was failing her.
His breathing hitched instantly before he shook his head sharply. No. He would not. He would do better. He would prove her right again in the end. He just needed to keep his strength up. His finger gently brushed against his ring then, a flood of warmth filling him instantly.
"One more," he murmured. "One more and then we can be together again, my love."