The Quality of Mercy
"Always."
The old man was silent.
Through all the years that he had known Albus Dumbledore, the old man had always had an answer. He waited for it.
"When Harry dies, Voldemort will be vulnerable, and -"
"I don't think so," he interrupted curtly. So there was no answer after all. "Then I am free," he voiced out aloud. "Do you understand? Dumbledore?" He half-grinned, half-snarled at the old man. "I don't feel like it anymore. Any of it. Do your dirty work yourself."
Another silence.
"You gave me your word, Severus."
"So what? I take it back."
The old man frowned. He seemed lost. Finally, half-heartedly, "Does your word mean - "
"You dare. You dare!" He had to pause and take in a deep breath. His chest was shaking and it was difficult for him to speak. When he spoke again, the words came in a rush.
"Our deal! The whole premise is preposterous! If I had left then. If I wouldn't serve you. You would let the Potters die? You preyed on me. You used me. I have known - I realised this, long ago. But still I continued. To protect Lily's son. To defeat the Dark Lord. To save her son.
"Liar! From the start, a lie!" His heartbeat pounded in his temples. He clutched at his head. "You gained a useful slave. Why not?"
"No, Severus, it wasn't like that -" the old man pleaded.
"Yes, it was. Yes, your slave. Always, your slave. Chained in promises you drew from me. One after the other. So little faith, old man. You insult me. But still, still I continued. You wanted my life. I gave it. You wanted my soul. I gave it. You kept me in the dark. So be it. Because of your chains? No! I - thought you had a plan. Dumbledore must have a plan.
"And so he has. A plan. For the greater good."
He glared at the old man, who shrank away from him.
"Yes! I know! Since Albus Dumbledore has - has seen fit to ask me, how many? Perhaps - just perhaps - I also have a question? About Ariana Dumbledore."
Albus Dumbledore looked stricken. The old man stumbled weakly to the chair and leaned heavily upon it. His body sagged as he pressed a trembling, blackened hand to his forehead.
"Albus Dumbledore doubts my character. Does he doubt my scholarship? It was hard to get details. But I was curious. Can it be? I ask myself, but can it be? Tell me, old man. The truth! Tell me! "
A terrible, forlorn sound emerged from Albus Dumbledore's throat. He seemed to shrivel up just like his dead hand, as he fell to his knees.
"Yes," he whispered, "yes."
"I cannot blame Gellert," the old man continued faintly, "he only held up the mirror to myself. It was the power. My desire for power. The world was ignorant; I would set it right with the firm hand of a benevolent god. They would see my brilliance, and love me - no, worship me for it. If only... if only I did not have my mad sister around my neck!
"Too late, too late!" The old man groaned, "Why didn't I stop before that day?
"My crime was too great. I have been repenting ever since. But still I have not learnt. That ring, Severus, the Stone of Life. The temptation was too great. If I could bring her back! If only I could! I had to tell her, tell her I was sorry. A madness came over me. I put the ring on. Fool! I was a fool! And you - you I've made bear the burden of my folly!"
He flinched. The old man's confession came like a slap to his face. The veil was ripped from his eyes. He would never again see the world the way he had.
"I see." he said coldly, "Long ago, sacrifices for the greater good. Now, sacrifices for the greater good. But in your manipulation you forget. I could give up anything - my reputation, my life, even my soul - just for Lily to live on. What little of her that remains in that unworthy son of hers" - he spat - "but she would still live."
"But there is that last thing. Do I give that up too, and render everything else void?" He sneered at the old man. "What do you think I would do? I made an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa to kill you; would I escape all of this in my death? Or would I run back to the Dark Lord now, so that He keeps Harry Potter safe, very safe, from Albus Dumbledore, who seeks the boy's death?"
He glared at the old man scornfully and answered himself. "No, I will kill you as planned. I would enjoy that, I think. The boy will die. Lily ... She will be gone forever." He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, Lily. There is no other way."
"Severus..."
"No, you listen to me now." He flashed a venomous look at the old man. "I will follow your plan. But know this: You have no compulsion over me now, you disgusting old man. You never will again. I follow because ... because ..." - he swallowed and gulped for air as he struggled to voice the conflicted emotions within him - "because my desire for Lily to live on cannot - cannot justify - cannot! The countless lives that will be slaughtered, and tortured, if I don't give her up!"
Tears ran down Albus Dumbledore's cheeks. The old man looked shrunken, defeated, helpless. It was strange to him that it could be so. The old man had always been the master; he was the student. The old man had been powerful and upright; he was weak and wretched. But now he felt strong, stronger than he had ever felt before, even during his Death Eater days. His path was straight before him and his purpose was clear. His other options offered him no temptation, for this was the right thing to do. It would only be Justice, finally, the correct ending to the events that had begun so many lifetimes ago. Yes, so many years had passed, and each one seemed an agonizing lifetime. He had met the old man on a hilltop, on a wind-blasted night. He had knelt before the old man, just as the old man was kneeling -
His eyes widened. For the first time in their conversation, he saw Albus Dumbledore as he was. Not as his tormentor, but as a dying old man in pain, suffering from all the faults and weaknesses that he himself had suffered from. Faults and weaknesses he was acutely aware of, against which he still struggled. The anger within him died, replaced with sorrow, though the pain remained. He sighed and bowed his head, letting his hair hide the tangled emotions on his face.
The two remained so, for many heartbeats of silence.