THE OLD POTIONS BOOK.

Lupin sat down in the same spot that Harry had just been sitting in. We were quiet, thinking of something to say, but neither of us could build up the courage to speak first. Finally, Lupin spoke, his eyes avoiding mine. "Your hand is cut," he observed carefully and he touched my left hand, holding it up to show me the deep gash on the top of my hand. "I don't know how Madam Pomfrey missed this. Let me fix it for you."

"No," I said. "I think I look a little more bad ass with the cut, don't you?" I smirked, but he didn't find it funny at all. I frowned and rolled my eyes. "Please, if you can."

"I can." I pulled out his wand and pressed the tip of it to my hand, muttering a spell under his breath. The gash began to seal painfully and I bit my tongue, holding back a yelp. "What's going on, Darcy?" he asked, letting go of my hand. I didn't answer. "What happened exactly at the Astronomy Tower last night?"

I breathed in sharply and swallowed the lump in my throat. I could tell him everything, couldn't I? "Snape killed Dumbledore, Remus. It's always been Snape." I was beginning to feel lightheaded again. "Malfoy was supposed to do it – he's got the Dark Mark branded on his arm! I told you! That's where the Unbreakable Vow comes into play! I knew it all along and you never listened. It happened. It's real."

"I just don't understand how it could happen…"

"Because Malfoy –" I hesitated. "I don't know. I trusted Snape, Remus. Dumbledore trusted Snape. But he was never on our side; he was always on their side! I should have listened to you – I'm so sorry…"

"Darcy, it doesn't matter – we'll get through this together – you and me. I love you –"

"Now isn't the time for romance!" I snapped and Lupin frowned, giving me a confused look. "Not now, not when Dumbledore's been murdered. Don't you see? I'm heartbroken and sick – don't you understand? I am terrified beyond belief and I just need someone to make sure that not only Harry is safe, but I am, too." I scrunched my nose. That wasn't what I wanted to say at all. I had planned on leaving him, but my brain wouldn't let me say it. I had just rambled and Lupin shook his head, still looking at me like I had a third eye. "That's not what I meant…"

"Then what did you mean?" asked Lupin.

"I don't know."

Lupin nodded. "You're still in shock. Come on, back up to our room with you. Tomorrow is Dumbledore's funeral."

I nodded slowly and held his hands as Lupin pulled me gently up onto my feet. My knees were still wobbly and he walked me all the way up.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It's a fake," Harry shrugged lightly. We stood on top of the Astronomy Tower that night together. It was a clear night; no clouds were out and the thin moon shone brightly down on us. "The Horcrux isn't real." He passed it to me and I held it delicately in my hands. It was a locket – a gold locket with a smooth exterior. I opened it and a small piece of parchment fell into my hands. I opened it and read it aloud.

"To the Dark Lord," I began, looking up at Harry. "I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B." I put the note back into the locket and shut it tightly, handing it back to Harry. "Who's R.A.B.?"

"No idea," he sighed. "But this means that Dumbledore was weakened all for nothing. This might not have happened had we known there wasn't a real Horcrux in that damn cave we went to."

I leaned against the iron bars that kept Harry and me from falling down to our death. "I'm upset that it was Snape, you know," I told him. "I'm frightened and angry, but it's hard to just hate him, you know? Someone that I trusted with my life."

"I understand," Harry whispered, sniffing. "But you know what this means?"

"We're going to hunt these Horcruxes by ourselves." I licked my lips. "We have to find out how to destroy these Horcruxes. How do we know if one is a Horcrux? There's so many flaws with this plan, Harry. Are you as terrified as I am?"

"Definitely." Harry sighed and looked at me. "Do you know who the Half Blood Prince was? Do you know who wrote those spells? Do you know who invented the spell that nearly killed Malfoy?"

I was quiet. I had an idea.

"It was Snape. It was always Snape."

I looked away from Harry and out towards the forest, where just the night before, Snape and his followers had gone running. I ruffled his hair halfheartedly and he didn't say anything. "C'mon, let's go to bed."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lessons ceased suddenly and examinations were postponed. Most parents hurriedly pulled their children from Hogwarts. Many people came for Dumbledore's funeral; a carriage had landed in the courtyard and hundreds of girls poured out of it in powder blue suits, accompanied by their large headmistress. Ministry officials had come to pay their respects, as well as the Minister of Magic.

I was numb when I woke up that day. I tied Lupin's tie for him and put on a black dress for the funeral. I brushed my hair for nearly fifteen minutes. Lupin came up behind me and took my hairbrush from my hands. He placed it on the dresser and sighed, kissing the top of my head. My stomach churned. I felt sick.

"Darcy, no one knew it would happen," he whispered in my ear. I looked at him through the mirror and frowned. "No one expected any of this to happen. No one expected it to be Snape."

I didn't say anything.

"You mustn't be so hard on yourself. I would never have guessed that he would be the one to kill Dumbledore." He kissed my temple again and took my hands, pulling me to my feet. "Let's go."

I held Lupin's hand tightly, slightly afraid of what Harry would say when he saw us together, but I quickly pushed the thought from my mind and soon, my head was clear again. We headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast first and we took our seats. When I sat down, I felt tears well up in my eyes. McGonagall was sitting in Dumbledore's chair and the seat beside me that was usually occupied by Snape was now occupied by the Minster for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. I picked at my food and sighed, sniffing. He kept looking over at me, but never said a word.

After a silent hour of breakfast, McGonagall rose from her seat and announced that the students were to follow their Heads of Houses out onto the grounds. Slughorn had taken over for Snape and led the Slytherins out first, who were the most talkative out of every House.

Lupin and I followed the students. Ministry officials walked behind us, muttering to themselves, but I held Lupin's hand tightly as if letting go meant death. When we reached where the funeral was taking place, I was amazed and it took my breath away. Hundreds of people had come out; the guests that were staying in Hogsmeade, parents of students, old professors, Ministry officials, old students, even the merpeople were singing in a different language underneath the surface of the Black Lake. Shop owners from Diagon Alley had already been seated and so were the girls dressed in Blue. The ghosts were floating by the lake, all quiet.

Lupin pulled me to two seats near Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Harry's eyes flicked to our hands, but he said nothing and looked at Ginny. Tears spilled from Hermione's and Ginny's eyes into their laps. I was completely numb. My eyes were dry and I zoned out as the small, plump man began to speak about Dumbledore. I stared at the white tomb that Dumbledore's body was now lying in.

Lupin looked at me and frowned. He pressed his lips to my temple and I closed my eyes and sighed. "I love you," he whispered.

I didn't say it back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I slowly opened the door to the very familiar dungeon room. I flicked my wand and all the candles lit themselves, lighting up the dark and dismal room. I kept the curtains shut. I very slowly walked over to Snape's desk and sat down in his seat. I missed the smell of brewing potions and the smell of all the ingredients.

I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled at my auburn locks, trying to calm myself down. I began opening up Snape's desk drawers and they were all empty – almost as if he had been preparing to leave. I needed something to remind me of Snape; of the comfort he had given me that whole year. When I got to the last drawer, I found an old copy of Advanced Potion Making. I picked the book up carefully and it nearly fell apart in my hands. I opened it to the front page, looking for a name.

James Potter.

There it was – in sloppy, small handwriting was my father's name and I smiled weakly and closed the drawer and the book. I flipped through the pages. Although there weren't as many notes as in the Half Blood Prince's potions book, there were still some notes. Most of the scribbles on the pages were just doodles, some were notes between he and one of his friends, and sometimes he had written 'L.E.' in big lettering inside a heart.

I wondered why Snape had kept it hidden. Snape wasn't even the potions master anymore and I thought that the book should have been in Slughorn's room. Was Snape hiding it because he didn't want me to see it? Or was he keeping it so I would see it eventually?

I remained seated at the front desk and as I looked around the classroom, I broke down into sobs and I buried my face in my hands, trying to slow my crying. I sat there for a few minutes and then the door opened. I heard it creak slowly and I stood up with my dad's old potions book in my hand. I wiped my red, itchy, wet eyes and made to leave, but saw McGonagall standing in the doorway, her hands folded behind her back.

"I was just about to leave," I croaked and she gave me the saddest look I had ever seen her give. Her eyes were wide and dull, her tight mouth in a frown. "Sorry."

I wanted to leave, but I found myself frozen to the spot behind the desk. I put the potions book back down and sat in the chair again, covering my face and sniffling. My eyes were puffy and my cheeks were red and tear stained. McGonagall took a quick glance around the room. She took a slight step forward, as if walking into the room was causing her terrible pain. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry more than he cared about me," I sighed truthfully, my throat hurting from sobbing so much. "It should be Harry that needs this consoling."

"I wasn't talking about Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall replied and our eyes met. "I meant Professor Snape."

"You're not sorry about what happened," I snapped, but she didn't say anything. "You're glad Snape is gone. You're not sorry for me at all. You're just like everyone else who has been whispering about him, wondering why I miss Snape and wondering why I'm upset about this."

She sighed and pursed her lips together in a very Aunt Petunia like manner. "I understand what he meant to you; I am sorry for you, Miss Potter. I know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you love."

"No, you don't," I muttered, standing back up and walked towards the back of the classroom. I tried to avoid her eyes and tried to keep my back turned towards her. "You don't understand and you never will." On a shelf sat a book on the Dark Arts. I flipped through it casually and continued walking around. "Harry is the one everyone should be feeling sorry for." McGonagall didn't speak, but I continued, talking mostly to myself. "And I trusted him. I was foolish to not see it coming. Everyone else knew; everyone else saw right through him. How could I not see it…? How could I have been so blind…?"

Frustrated and angry with not just Snape, but myself as well, I shut my eyes and heard something break. I jumped and opened my eyes to see that I had broken a glass on one of the cabinets full of old Defense Against the Dark Arts books. I sighed and wiped my eyes again, which were starting to water once more. "No one suspected it. Don't blame yourself, Miss Potter."

"It was my fault he got away!" I shouted; more glass shattered and I dry sobbed. "I had him at wand point! I should have killed him!"

"He cared about you, you know," McGonagall told me quietly. "I never would have believed it just by watching the way he interacted with you, but hearin bits of his conversations with Dumbledore… He did care."

"What does it matter anymore?" I licked my lips. "Snape is gone. Dumbledore is gone. He never cared about me. It was all just a show. He was just pretending so I wouldn't suspect something."

"I doubt that."

My stomach clenched and more glass broke. I jumped again. "I'm sorry." Holding my dad's book tightly against my chest, I breathed in deeply and brushed past McGonagall, leaving Snape's classroom in a hurry, with tears filling my eyes.

I slowed down as I climbed the moving staircases because I knew what was coming. Once I entered my quarters, Lupin would want to know everything and I would have to tell him the truth. I wanted to vomit. I couldn't tell him the truth… but I had to… I knew what was right… I wasn't about the take the easy way out.

Snape wouldn't have wanted me to.