With a loud crack they landed on the clearing opposite the wizard's tomb. Soon to be real, he thought. Little did the chit know she was helping in Dumbledore's true assassination. Walking towards the stone coffin, Snape missed a step and clutched harder to the lithe girl's body.
"Open it. Now!" He snapped at her
"All right, give me a second" She said, adjusting his weight and pointing her wand to the stone "Levioso"
The stone cover hovered up and gave way to the seemingly lifeless body of one Albus Dumbledore. With great effort, Hermione helped the injured wizard closer to his master's frame.
"Sir, are you going to wake up the headmaster?" she asked shyly
"Hardly" he answered dryly
Focusing on the lifeless body, he leaned into it and pressed his wand hand on the puppets' chest. With a swift movement he pointed a hand with straightened fingers to his belly and plunged in. The chit started yelling, or crying maybe, he couldn't care less. She was pulling at his free arm in vain. Mustering all the strength left in his body Snape pulled out, clutching something in his hand. Hermione looked at the small item in awe, now speechless, the meaning of the situation completely lost on her.
"This, Miss Granger, is the headmaster's plan" he said coldly
The fake body of the former headmaster turned to ashes and scattered in the wind; Hermione was looking from it to his eyes in a loop of confusion. Snape dangled something like a keyring with his fingertips, arm stretched to the girl's face, it had the shape of a time-turner. Dumbledore's choice, of course. Snape could feel bile rising from his carcass, he had no stomach for the old wizards' sense of humour at this very moment. As if his job was some merry trip to the past to fix a mistake, he wasn't even sure if the whole thing would turn out to be the worst mistake of his wretched life. He could barely breathe, let alone walk by himself, as much as he'd like to get rid of the girl she was in for the whole experience. War had to harden people one way or another, he thought.
"Grab it, Miss Granger" he ordered
The magic of the portkey felt different to what Hermione knew, she felt like the word was skinning around her while their joined bodies descended far down than they ever should. They appeared on what seemed to be a dark, humid corridor lit only two fires at head height. Snape fell on his knees before Hermione, unable to withstand the force of the landing in his condition.
"Sir! Are you ok?"
"No…obviously" he answered, each syllabus gradually dripping more venom "I'm afraid I'm going to need you help going forward, Miss Granger"
"Hmm, all right sir" she agreed
She'd never seen the stern wizard in a similar situation before, having Snape so vulnerable and yet full of anger before her was making her second guess the sanity of her choices, but it was too late to change course now. She'd step into something Dumbledore had deemed necessary in his tangled game of chess carefully woven to bring Voldemort's demise; if she didn't make her move now, all of their effort hunting horcruxes would have been in vain. So, gathering all her Gryffindor valour, Hermione helped the dark wizard get up once more and they walked down the corridor in tandem. Firelights lit on the walks following their pace until they reached an opening where the room expanded. There in the middle of the room an altar stood illuminated only by the magic circle that surrounded it. Snape made a lame gesture towards it "this is getting bad; he's losing strength by the minute" she thought. When they reached the circle's threshold, she could finally see the item displayed at the altar, a dagger with dark inscriptions she couldn't quite read from the distance in the dim light. She was abruptly brought back from her trance she didn't notice she'd fall in by Snapes' voice.
"I'm to do this alone" he said, pushing her chest so hard she had to take three steps backwards to keep her balance.
The thing was imbued with dark magic, but it was different from the horcruxes. To Hermione the pull of the dagger felt like the sea tides, pulling and pushing you further with each wave. It terrified her knowing how she didn't notice at first sight, she'd been totally engulfed by its influence, the thing would have got her if it wasn't for Snape. And the wizard walked towards it as if nothing was amiss, he rose to his full height alone and crossed the threshold. The sound of glass bouncing off the stone floor distracted her from the wizard and she knelt to investigate it. It was a potion vial. She took it and smelled it and everything clicked at once; the smell known to her, the orange residual colour and Snape now walking towards the altar as if he hadn't been injured that night.
"Sir you can't take a strength potion in your state, you'll die of overexertion!" she yelled
The only answer she got from Snape was a sideways glance, he kept walking with unwavering resolve and everything seemed to happen too fast for Hermione to do more than being a passive spectator, the dark magic flowing in the air made her dizzy. From her spot she saw Snape grab the dagger, blueish fires lighted on the walls, illuminating the visibly circular room, and the light allowed her to read the inscription now. She was puzzled because it read "ALBUS". When the dark wizard walked past the altar, she finally noticed there was a second platform past it, this one displaying a lying body dressed in robes. It was the figure of Albus Dumbledore, arms locked place in his chest by his holding hands, the pose reminiscent of a dead body but his life force was still there; the old wizard was deep in cursed sleep.
All hell broke loose. Snape plunged the dagger directly into the wizard's chest and the darkest and foulest of magic imaginable came out of Dumbledore's dying body, swirling and engulfing its next vessels' body, creating in its wake a storm that submerged the whole chamber. Hermione was trapped in it, she didn't know what was happening nor what to do, but this was bad and this was dark, the darkest of magics. Horcruxes felt like children's games next to it. She was petrified, but could move her eyes. Trying to conquer the overwhelming feelings she laid eyes on Snape and saw that; whatever dark magic he was battling now he was losing to it. And he couldn't. This couldn't be in Dumbledore's plan. She had to do something.
"Sir!" she ran and shouted, almost a cry, clutching his thin frame in a tight hug. The man was thin like a rail "Sir please, don't give up! You can't give up now!"
Darkness closed in around them, swirling upwards in a tornado. It was getting harder to breathe. Snape was screaming, guttural growls escaping his abused throat while Hermione repeated encouraging words. He was held on to her for dear life, gritting his teeth and grunting like a man possessed. But he was being possessed, she thought. And it ended as quickly as it began, Snape lowered the dagger and reigned in the darkness. The storm was gone.
"Professor Snape, are you alright?" she almost whispered
Hermione was beyond terrified but she had to make sure the wizard was still here, still with her, whatever mad plan at work here surely will culminate in Voldemort's demise and Snape was the key. She couldn't lose him now, not to some glorified cursed knife. A knife which she saw displayed the name "SEVERUS" instead of "ALBUS". "Something is really, really wrong here" she thought. As if he'd heard her with delay Snape lowered his gaze and looked at her. His bloodied face and torn neck were fully healed, but his skin had a strange ethereal glow to it that looked anything but human. His eyes bore into hers and seemed to be burning with a new intensity, still black as night, but not quite. She didn't know what she was looking at anymore.
"It is done now. You must leave, warn the others, find shelter, erect wards, anything. If I fail my mission, no effort will be too little. Everyone must be ready for the dark curse" his voice was his usual baritone again but something was amiss, it felt more forbidding and colder than she remembered it, if such a thing was even possible.
"But what is it? The curse, what will it do to us?"
He hesitated for a moment, of course the girl didn't know and Merlin forbade the insufferable know-it-all was kept in the dark, she hadn't just obtained the knowledge and memories of a thousand dark wizards in two minutes, unlike him. She'd probably have imploded of happiness had she taken the curse instead.
"It'll reshape your memories, your lives and our world, most probably separating it from the muggle world. Everything will be different. You'll be his subjects and won't know to question it, for it'll be as if it always were that way"
"No!" she shrieked "That's horrible, it cannot happen! Is there no way to keep our memories?"
For a split second he was lost in thought. Snape scanned the memories available to him in search of something, a loophole around the curse, anything that may aid them. It was a long shot, but maybe it would work for the chit.
"Say my name. Say it, repeat it as many times as you can, do it until either I'm victorious or the curse hits. Mutter it to yourself every second you're not explaining to others what to do. Lean on Potter and Weasley, let them take care of it. You? Retire yourself to a quiet corner and say my name like you want it carved into your soul, do you understand me girl?"
"I do, sir!" it was the weirdest instruction she's ever got, but she wasn't going to question it. Not in this world of impossible magic and certainly not in this end-of-the-world situation.
"Then go, do not waste more time than you already have," he said emotionlessly. His usual coldness seemed to have upped up a notch, giving him a surreal look paired with his pale glow.
"I promise I won't, sir" she reassured him
Hermione wasn't aware she was still clinging to the man's waist. Finally dislodging from him, she turned away and as she was turning, she clutched her wand to her belly and apparated away.
The girl wasn't in the plan. Never had Dumbledore mentioned Miss Granger saving his sorry ass from death, shoving the bezoar so hard down his throat she made more harm than good compromising his breathing ability. Nor was she supposed to be present when he claimed the dark one's power from him. She certainly wasn't supposed to be necessary to do it, but she had been. If it wasn't for her incessant chatter and the little light it had sparked within him, he'd have succumbed to the darkness right there and then, making the dark lord the least of their problems.
Darkness spoke inside his mind, taking hold and corrupting every good thing he thought he held dear: his love for Lilly, a laughable and misguided thing because she never loved him, never cared for him an inch of what he'd cared for her. His life was a waste, his time spent in the service of others and what good did it make him? None. He was bitter, old, ugly and lonely and it was all on him, for he had caved his own tomb just like Dumbledore beside him had. And when he was about to give out and let darkness win her voice had pulled him away from the void he was falling in, the delicate voice of one Hermione Granger reverberated in the confines of his mind, twisting and shifting into the voice of the child she'd once been at eleven years' old.
He'd never been able to publicly appreciate the girls' work from his position due to her Gryffindor and golden trio status, but he secretly cherished memories of her academic achievements: the cheerful smile she got when she finished a potion first and to perfection, her unwavering respect of him as a teacher and authority figure despite her friend's disposition. She was enthusiastic about learning and proud of it. Her little moments of bliss in the classroom leaked into memories of other noteworthy students, some he could say he'd even been proud of teaching, able to teach something at the very least. And those memories gave way to his own time as a Hogwarts student, little good hidden memories of the days where he was equally hungry for knowledge, the ecstasy of twitching potions recipes and improving upon them, surpassing old Slughorn's example potion for the first as a mere third-year student.
This was the reason why he was fighting, why he had forfeited his life: the future of the world and freedom of people who deserved better than Riddle. God only knows what the madman would do with the everlasting stream of darkness that flowed within him now if he took it. He was damned either way, eventually his willpower will fade away and give way to darkness just as the dark lord would do. But until that moment came, he could do something with it, "to use the darkness for light, that might be possible" Dumbledore has said to Zoso in this very damned place, the vault that'll become his tomb as well. Doomed to share a grave with the most powerful wizard, icon of the light and leader of the order of the phoenix, one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, he thought.
"Now that was an honour I've never expected to have" he said dripping sarcasm and fury "meddlesome bastard"
