"His Patronus is different."
"What?" Harry looked up. He was in Kingsley's office picking up some intel the minister personally collected, and what he said barely registered.
"His Patronus. It's different. Sent one this morning... you still don't have an owl at home?"
"Is it? Oh I… uh, I didn't notice." Harry was not ready for this intense information in the middle of his work day. "What is it?"
"It's the same, but it's different."
"It is?" His heart quickened. "It's not a doe?"
"It is a doe," Kingsley confirmed in his low voice, looking at Harry. "But it's different."
"Oh, I didn't realize it changed," and Harry felt a sudden surge of loss. She is gone from this earth, finally and completely.
"You haven't seen it?"
"No," he admitted.
"Your Patronus is still the stag, isn't it?"
"Yes," Harry blinked, thinking.
"It might not change that much," Kingsley finished what he was writing. "Never saw his Patronus before the trial. Kept that close to the vest," he handed more papers to Harry. "Take the rest of these to Robards."
"Of course." Harry walked back to the Auror office in a daze. She is no longer here. To see Snape's Patronus was to see his mum, even if just for a moment. And now she's gone… he would no longer get to see a short glimpse of her, to marvel in her beauty and her otherworldliness. If Kingsley was saying what he thought he was saying, Snape may have gone through yet another change. Perhaps he should feel happy, but all he felt was loss.
"Back already? That didn't take long." Neville perked up. Ron stopped playing with the things on his desk and looked up too.
"No, it didn't. Here," he handed over the information to Robards who looked through it. Seeing what he was hoping to find, he stood up.
"Right. Now that we're all here, lets discuss."
Although his brain was buzzing, he pushed thoughts of the doe out of his mind and zoned into the more important information. Kingsley was able to collect some very valuable intelligence and they rode these new facts, fitting them into their current plan, forming a concrete strategy.
Busy with their upcoming raid, he had not seen Snape for weeks, stuck at work sometimes for 16-hour days, glued in grueling meetings as they went over every detail, feeling like he was about to break into Gringotts again. Although they worked in the same building, he rarely saw a glimpse of Hermione anymore. And when he caught her hair bobbing through the hallways, she looked only slightly less disheveled than he did.
She caught up with him at lunch finally, checking in. "Did you hear what happened at Hogwarts?"
"What?" Harry's brain whirled, jumping to all the worst conclusions.
"A chaser fell off her broom, fell fifty feet. Twisted her spine, she's at St. Mungo's."
Harry stared at her hotly, his heart about to burst from his chest. "That's not NEWS! Don't scare me like that."
"You don't have to lash out at me."
"I haven't seen him in weeks, Hermione, don't scare me!"
"What, you two just don't talk?"
"We both work a lot. We don't need to send letters."
"Does that really work for you?" she narrowed her eyes, not believing he was this emotionless he could sustain zero contact.
"Yes," but he didn't meet her eye. "All I do is sleep at home anyway."
"Harry, you're working too much. Even Ron doesn't stay that long."
"Maybe he should," he cut in harshly, thinking Ron was skiving off a little early sometimes.
"He has his bad days like everyone else, at least he knows how to turn it off when he gets home."
"Bully for him." He pushed around his food, not feeling very hungry anymore.
"Harry… I think you're overstretching yourself…"
"And what about you? Didn't you just get promoted or something?"
"Well, that was bound to happen," she said brightly, and Harry smiled with her against his will. But his smile faltered, seeing Draco shooting them looks from across the room, picking up food.
"How's he been?"
"Who?" She turned around, seeing who it was. "Oh—insufferable. He's the worst. Awful," she said with a emotionless face.
"So…" he tried to lighten, "how's work?"
"Great. Terrible. I feel like I'm doing so much good, but laws are tough to change. And I want to fix everything; I could live as long as Dumbledore and only accomplish 10% of what I want. Makes me question my life. Is this what I want? To fight against the system within the system, for creatures that don't trust me in the first place? I'm not even positive these proposed laws are enforceable. You can change the laws, but popular opinion still reigns. Harry… I'm losing. I've barely started and I'm losing."
"No…" Harry shook his head. "No—everyone's talking about you, everyone. They are in awe."
"That's not true…" she gave him a weary smile.
"Why would I lie about that?"
"If everyone's 'in awe of me' why is no one helping me?"
"Well…" Harry looked away. "Centaurs, Goblins and the like… bit grumpy, aren't they? You paid attention in History of Magic. Everyone hates wizards. And here we are, inheriting all this turmoil, and most wizards don't want to help creatures that hate them."
She sighed, shaking her head and looking away. "That's what I said… I'm failing, aren't I?"
"In speaking of failing, you've heard from Ron, right? We're getting our second chance! We're about to do that raid!"
"Only you can look happy about that."
"And I am!" Harry smiled through his exhaustion, thrilled they were finally getting another crack at the apple. "These '10 more year' kids are really getting on my nerves."
"They sound smart, Harry, you should be careful. They avoided capture for over a year."
Harry shrugged, finally eating. "Don't even like calling them Death Eaters, it's not like they have a mark. They're smart— I'll give them that, using soundwaves to communicate messages; their stuff's been a pain to intercept and decipher. They've got a Ravenclaw, Hermione—a Ravenclaw! They turned one. Bit impressed. I'm jealous to be honest, Ron gets to tell you all the good stuff."
"Oh, he tries. I just nod and pretend I'm listening."
Harry's mouth dropped.
"OH NO—he doesn't listen to MY DAY, he just pretends to listen. I hate it. If he's not going to listen to my progress in creature-law, I'm not going to listen to Dark-Markless Ravenclaw Death Eater Musicians. I'm SICK of Death Eaters!"
"Hermione! You've got LOADS of good ideas. I've been wondering why Ron shows up to work empty handed! If you were listening and offering ideas, we could have DONE the thing by now!"
"Well, I don't work for you, do I? I have my own department to look after, thanks."
But Harry scraped his chair closer to this goldmine, eager to tell her all the recent news. "SO, they have another meeting, right?"
She smiled and bit her lip, looking interested, willing to play along over lunch. "Okay, and?"
"And so they're able to Disapparate through our wards. They should be trapped within the barrier, but they're not! And then I was like, 'wait a minute, Snape GAVE me a potion like that.' And sure enough, we think they're using similar magic. SO: I get the ingredients off him, brought that to work, and it's really complicated Hermione, took us forever to counter act it with a custom ward. So, we track one of them down, right? We put the wards up secretly, and she can't Disapparate! She just keeps… turning on the spot, you know? We brought her in and questioned her. This Saturday—we're going to do it!" He ended excitedly, fire in his eyes.
But Hermione's face fell.
"Oh. Ron is… oh. This Saturday? You guys are going to do it this Saturday?"
"Isn't this great!? We could catch them all of in one go! We're talking about over twenty people! STAMP 'em out! HUGE win."
"So… you're going head-to-head with Death Eaters this Saturday?" she asked, looking crest-fallen.
Harry's face fell too. "Ron didn't… tell you?"
"I don't think he was dumb enough to tell me!" and she looked worried, scared even.
"Hermione, it's not that dangerous," he laughed at her. "We're taking every precaution." She looked away and started packing up. "HERMIONE!" he pleaded. "It's our JOB! What do you think we're doing?"
"We just ended a war, so many people died, and you two are just walking back into it. Why? Why, Harry? Do you have some sort of death wish? And Ron's in it too, coming home, smiling, happy, laughing—joking like everything is fine!"
"Everything IS FINE! He's happy because we're in a good position, Hermione! Would you rather us just let the group recruit new members?"
"I think…" she stood up, "I'd rather date someone that's going to come home in one piece, so I wouldn't have to worry."
"Join us then," Harry stood up with her. "You're only saying that because you're not there with us! If you knew what kind of precautions we're taking, you wouldn't feel that way. You wouldn't be worried at all, we could use you! You're brilliant—invaluable! It'll be the three of us again! You were never worried when it was just us!"
"Harry—no. I want some semblance of a normal life."
"No, you don't!" he practically laughed at her. "You're neck deep, trying to save the world, you are. Good luck with that, by the way."
Despite everything, she smiled. But she did leave, and in a suspiciously short time later, Draco got up, threw away his half-eaten food, tray and all, and followed in her general direction, possibly to find out what they were arguing about.
During their last strategy meeting before the raid, he listened to plans A, B, C, and D as Robards was doing his best Mad-Eye Moody impression of worst case scenarios. He hadn't smiled since his lunch with Hermione, adopting a new stony hard demeanor, running on pure adrenaline as he barely slept for weeks. She was right: he was getting swallowed by work, unable to think about anything else.
A handsome school owl came yesterday morning, asking to see him Saturday night. Harry sent a hastily scribbled letter back for the owl's return journey: 'Too tired. Need sleep, haven't slept properly in weeks. Sunday evening maybe?' He kept the details sparse, thinking of Hermione. Would Snape be worried if he knew?
In the cover of darkness and disillusionment, they arrived at the spot, a three-story building, an old business turned into headquarters. It was well hidden, unplottable, with other wards they spent the last month getting around, but it did not have a secret keeper.
They spent the next ten minutes casting a wide circle of wards and protections, more than they needed, another circle drawn around the property by Weepy, the rest waiting in their ranks.
This was perfection, Harry thought, the Auror team being both near-invisible and near-silent. They could have done this in broad day light during an outside meeting in the grass—it wouldn't have mattered. Moody would have been proud. ...But would he approve of their plan? Taking them all at once seemed like a risk, but an invaluable opportunity. If they were lucky, all their protections would work and not even a Sneakoscope would be triggered.
They waited on high alert. The ward coin in their hands flashed hot, giving them the signal to start. Weepy, using his hands and not a wand, forced the earth to upend itself in a miracle of nature, the building staying in tact while swallowed—sinking and covered, trapping the Death Eaters and their entire building underground. Right now, they would be trying to Disapparate, but unable to. The dust settled. Everything was quiet.
They waited.
Weepy used his magic again, earth rumbling and obeying him. Although they couldn't see what was happening, the building was turning sideways within the earth, the front double doors now part of the ceiling. A very small vortex in the wards swirled, accepting air in a one-way channel. Pointing his wand into the vortex, he cast a sleep-hibernation spell, the standard for taking prisoners. Robards stuck his wand in too, casting multiplying and spreading charms.
GONG.
The sound was faint. It wasn't what they wanted to hear, but they proceeded anyway, Weepy and Robards performing the spells twice through the vortex for safe measure.
GONG.
They knew the noise was a bad sign, but chose to proceed with the sleep-hibernation just in case it worked. It was their safest plan to subdue them. Time was needed for the spells to make their way through the building, but even they failed, the Aurors would have time to execute plan B. They were confident the group couldn't leave—they made sure of that. They had time on their side. Four minutes, that would be enough time for the spells to disperse. After they waited, Weepy cast his earth-manipulation magic, uncovering the door which no one could get in or out without the ward coin.
"Homenum Revelio! Movimentum Revelio!" Robarbs called, "They're still in there. No movement—not from a single one of them. It may have worked after all."
Ron punched the air, or Harry thought he did, as he really couldn't see him.
GONG.
Harry was yanked off his feet, gliding through the grass. No one could see him, near-invisible. He cried out—his team catching the danger too late, spells shooting and summoning him back, but none of them worked, his body hurling towards the double doors.
GONG.
The doors opened despite their protections. Although the fringe-group could not get past the wards, Harry could, blowing right through them with his ward coin, falling inside.
GONG.
The doors slammed, cutting off the sound of his team's shouts of fear.
He landed roughly on the wall that was now the floor.
Darkness.
Silence.
Dust.
"It's him! POTTER!"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Screams erupted in the darkness, spells of all colors shot towards his general direction. And he was back in the graveyard and all he could do was run, trying not to trip over the broken things, running and fumbling, every spell missed by a miracle.
GONG.
A sound wave slammed into the back of him and felt his heart stop, but only for a second. But that second was enough for him to know how much danger he was in.
More green light erupted from the darkness, Harry throwing on his Invisibility Cloak, second nature to disappear under it, hoping it would do its job and prevent him from getting murdered. The spell missed anyway, illuminating and destroying an askew portrait. So death did not come for him in this second.
GONG. GONG. GONG.
He felt nothing through the cloak. Harry sent some of his own spells behind his shoulder, some of them missed, but some of them hit, people crying out.
"Refractio Sonus!" Harry cast, forgetting this was supposed be non-verbal. But they weren't listening as he bent sound, the Death Eaters shooting spells at the wrong location in the dark, hearing his footsteps in a completely different spot. He dodged into a corner, protected by an alcove, vaguely registering his feet, no longer invisible. Refractio. After faking his visual location too, he sent his Patronus out for light. It galloped about the room, illuminating the positions of his enemies. Some of the thicker Death Eaters shot spells at it. From here, he could see they were wearing very heavy protective cloaks and masks.
Using a Motivational Transfiguration Spell, he turned their busted-up podium into a guardian with strong legs and arms. To throw them off his location even more, he had the podium stand guard in a corner in the opposite end of the room, buying him time to think of a plan. The Death Eaters attacked that corner without mercy.
Being underground, the only escape was the door now on the ceiling—the only way out was up. He could get past the wards with the ward coin, but to open the door and use magic to force himself up would announce his location to twenty or more so wands. That seemed risky, Invisibility Cloak or no. Do it fast, or create a distraction?
He silently summoned a broomstick, hoping there was one in the building and it would find him.
Before he had time to form a better plan the doors opened again.
A tall 'invisible' form, accidentally shimmering by moonlight, dropped the entire length of the room, wand ready, the Aurors screaming outside.
"HE WENT IN! I CAN'T BELIEVE HE WENT IN! GET BACK HERE! POTTER WILL BE FINE!"
"NO!" Harry yelled but no one heard him. A dozen spells already hit Ron's Shield Charm, Harry's broken guardian moving to protect him automatically.
GONG.
His busted-up guardian broke.
GONG.
Harry watched in horror as it split open Ron's Shield Charm, Ron's disillusionment shimmering with the sound wave, giving him away easily. Another Shield Charm erupted, as strong as Hermione could make them, while Ron dealt out spells with fury and skill Harry had never seen from him before. Bodies fell, people screamed from everywhere.
"REGROUP! REGROUP!" Robards was yelling somewhere outside.
GONG.
Ron's Shield Charm broke apart like dust. Harry fumbled to enchant more guardians but couldn't think through his panic. Thankfully his hand moved on its own and his brain followed through with a simpler spell. Levicorpus! He would throw Ron back up through the door.
GONG.
Ron was barely off the ground when the spell broke, his disillusionment shimmering and washing away with it. War face finally revealed by the light of spells, Ron looked terrifying—much older, deflecting attack after attack, holding his own, mowing down many Death Eaters even within their protective cloaks.
GONG.
The moment Ron's heart stopped, a spell hit him. And another, and then another. He fell where he stood, moving no more.
Harry screamed.
"THERE! HE'S THERE!" Someone yelled and another flurry of spells shot towards the spot of his faked location. In the confusion of attacks, Harry crawled to Ron's body, pulling off his Invisibility Cloak and pulling it over both of them. Harry patted him for injuries and checked his face for breathing. Whether it was his panic or not, he felt no signs of life. Fumbling with his shrunken emergency bag, he pulled out the near-death potion, uncorking it with shaky hands. He tipped it into Ron's mouth, the liquid pooling. No no no no no no no... He massaged his neck, tipping back his chin, praying he would ingest some. Everyone was screaming... spells flew around them... they were not hit… but Ron did not stir.
"WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE ARE THEY?!"
Under the noise and confusion, Harry was able to focus enough to transfigure several new guardians, instructing them to flee to another room to throw them, letting the uninjured Death Eaters chase them deeper into the building.
"Follow them!" Someone yelled, and many of them pursued the guardians, the Death Eaters only too happy to trap them deeper in the building. More stayed behind, checking on the wounded. Bangs and rumbles could be heard below them.
Harry dragged Ron behind a sideways staircase, taking shelter there, muffling their sounds with a charm. He was out of ideas. The exit was right there above them, still open, waiting for them. His brain stopped working momentarily, breathing hard, holding Ron's limp torso. Levitate him. Try again. Hunching over Ron's body, he draped and tucked the Invisibility Cloak around him, trying to ensure he would be completely covered for the attempt.
"Having fun?" a nasty voice whispered behind him.
Harry's head whirled around. He must be hallucinating, because Snape was right behind him in the dark, looking livid, holding the squirming broom that he tried to summon earlier.
"This would have given your location away if it soared to you—foolish."
"What are you doing here!?" Harry hissed, feeling like he must be seeing things.
"You said you were going to be at home," Snape snapped. "You lied to me."
"I… how did you find us?"
" I have my ways."
"I am at work!"
"And you're losing."
"We are not losing. Refractio Sonus. PROTEGO!" They were back, realizing they'd been fooled.
GONG.
A sound wave shook the room to find them. Snape's eyes POPPED in concern as the alcove shook. "You are losing so badly, you don't even realize you're losing. There are ten people in the backroom ready to ambush you with magic you've never seen before. You've underestimated them. You've lost, darling. Retreat before you die."
"Thanks for that, but I need to get Ron out of here." And ignoring Snape, he raised his wand to levitate him but a talon grabbed his wand arm.
"I don't think so," and his Invisibility Cloak was ripped from Ron and tossed over him instead. "The Aurors are gathering around the door, about to come in and fight. Send your stag—tell them to retreat."
Harry instantly refreshed Refractio and sent his stag, revealing another fake location to the Death Eaters. They sent a fresh attack to another spot, but it still felt too close for comfort. The stag soared up to deliver the message but Harry encouraged it to come back down, charging the Death Eaters, causing a short enough distraction to get a broom shoved under him. "I'll take him. Leave." Harry didn't wait, rocketing out of the building's doors in a second.
Olivia and Neville cried out at Harry's reappearance, relieved. Touching down, he rejoined his group.
"Where's Weasley!?" Robards shouted, surprised he escaped without him.
A black mass was right behind him in the escape, coming out of nowhere, getting out of the wards no problem without the ward coin. All wands reacted to the unexpected person in the billowing cloak, but Snape protected himself with a lazy flick. Mouths dropped seeing who joined them, Ron levitated right behind him. "Save it!" Snape hissed. "Enigma magic—right behind the wall in the front room, hiding ten more people. They bust open the wall, it will leak out. If it touches your skin, you're DONE FOR!" he yelled at Robards like he should have known better. "COVER IT!" he yelled at Weepy with a pointing wand, who covered the building back up with earth. "What did you use? It was worthless!"
"The standard, Snape. Sleep-Hibernation mix. What are you DOING here?"
"Joining the ORCHESTRA, apparently!" he whipped his wand like a conductor and Ron's body fell with a thud. Harry and Neville crumpled before him, ripping off clothes, trying to find the injury. "They can DEFLECT and manipulate spells with sound. Surely you FIGURED THAT OUT before you came!"
"Of course we did. Now GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Robards demanded, looking like if Snape did not get out of the way, he would throw him aside.
But Snape did not get out of the way. He opened up his traveling cloak and pulled out a large bottle, transfiguring it into an odd-shape. The potion container was now a large double walled bowl, the liquid trapped between the layers. He ran his wand over the mouth in circles until it made a low humming noise.
"What is it, Snape?" no matter how disgusted Robards was, he was still interested in the oddly shaped potion bottle, recognizing promising magic when he saw it.
"Something for them to GONG."
Standing up abruptly, he carried it with both hands back to the mound of earth. "I NEED ONLY A SECOND-" he yelled at Weepy. "GIVE ME AN OPENING—GO!" and Weepy uncovered the door, making a larger vortex, Snape tossing the bowl-shaped bottle in haphazardly.
"NOW!" But Weepy not need told, the opening already covered, earth pulling over in waves, compacting, covering the house even deeper.
GONGGGGMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmm. And the humming continued.
Snape stalked back looking even more livid than before, like this was not how he planned his weekend away from annoying students. Incompetency back to incompetency.
Snape smiled cruelly as he reentered the group. "Mad-Eye would be ashamed of you, Robards. Sloppy. And wait till Kingsley hears about this."
Robards was not hurt by Snape's immature tactics. "Are they dead?" he asked, not sounding concerned.
"Oh, was I allowed to kill?" Snape asked deliciously. "Does the Ministry ALLOW that now?" Robards didn't answer. "Stay away from the mound, the vapor might still find a way to leak out."
"Sev…" Harry pleaded from the grass. He did not mean to use the nickname—it was automatic. "Ron, please…"
"How did he get hurt?" Snape asked, ignoring Harry's embarrassment, brushing his cloak away from his arms so he could work, kneeling immediately. Eyes raking over his bare chest, void of fatal injuries. "What happened?" Hands moved over him in an attempt to feel the magic.
"He followed me in, I was in trouble, and he came in after me."
"Of course he did."
"No, no—don't do that now. Not now." It was no time for snark.
Snape's eyes widened, feeling the magic that hit him, knowing how bad it was. Readjusting on his knees, he started to chant. Harry's breath caught in his throat, staring, unable to believe this moment.
What was he going to tell Hermione? Ron can't die—they were surrounded by some of the best wizards, period. Besides, Sev was here. But time slipped by, minute after minute, Snape chanting and Ron did not stir, each second an eternity, Harry looking down at the limp body, helpless and still.
And Snape stopped abruptly, sweating. "St. Mungo's. Now. Harry, grab him—GO!"
"What?" Harry gasped, not believing that he could fail.
"ST. MUNGO'S. NOW. Beyond the barrier—GO!"
"Will… will… that potion help?" Harry asked desperately, terrified.
"WHAT POTION?"
"The one you gave me! To stop death! I gave it to him!"
Snape stared shocked, like he couldn't believe Harry gave away something so valuable. Something meant for him only. He slowly stood up, not breaking eye contact, leaning into him. "YOU GAVE IT TO HIM?" Snape screamed directly into his face. "WHY HAVE I BEEN TRYING TO SAVE HIM IF YOU ALREADY GAVE IT TO HIM?"
Robards abruptly laughed. Neville and Olivia looked at each other, alarmed by the laughter.
Harry started breathing again. "I… I! He's not moving though! He WASN'T moving! I didn't know if it worked!"
"OF COURSE IT WORKS!" Snape yelled again, his fists in balls. Covered in sweat and angry at everyone's shared failings, he stomped back to the mound of earth by himself.
"Snape—don't! We have to regroup!" Robards called after him, but he wasn't listening. They reluctantly followed him.
At the start of the mound, Snape undid his cloak, throwing it aside, grabbing a bottle—an identical one to Harry's magical strengthening solution. He uncorked it with his teeth and drank it whole, throwing the bottle down. With two whips of a wand, the earth cratered, revealing the door. It opened for him.
Reaching into his pocket, Snape pulled out a second wand, some gasping at the unexpected spare and what he was about to do. With a wand in each hand, he went in alone.
But there was no thud… he softly floated to the floor.
Harry couldn't help himself and neither could Robards. They both peaked in and watched Snape flutter down to a floor of fallen bodies. A wall blasted open, ten or so Death Eaters erupted, waiting for the second round, a dark wave of magic leaking out with them, a gas engulfing the fallen, filling the room. Harry and Robards stepped away from the door, unsure if they should close it.
Olivia cast an invisible barrier to reinforce the first for added protection, and then created a well-placed mirror refraction spell, allowing them to see inside the building without needing to be near the door.
Snape mowed them down mercilessly, completely protected by a protective clear tank, identical to the one that protected Nagini, learning from his last downfall.
This new group of Death Eaters also wore impossibly thick protective cloaks that included heavy masks on their faces, but they still could scream.
"IT'S SNAPE!"
"SNAPE!" They yelled, some of them in fear, others in outrage. And he met them all, shooting and stabbing spells at them with each hand.
They did underestimate them, Harry thought. Yes, they were young adults, but his team did not anticipate the Dark Magic that devoured the bodies on the floor, their gaseous disintegrating creation, leaking throughout the room, eating only flesh. Who was this supposed to be used on?
And with each of Snape's spells, each stab, each whip, quick and nimble, as angry as Bellatrix, they all witnessed what it truly meant to be Voldemort's favorite.
Harry looked over at Robards and Weepy, watching their expressions, hoping to gauge their reaction and if they thought Snape was in any real danger. But they both stared, transfixed.
Now there were new voices.
"You betrayed him!"
"I did!" Snape yelled happily. A body fell.
"Why are you doing this!?" Another thunk.
"Foolish little gathering you have here, even the worst Aurors of the century have tracked you down. You are not fit to be DEATH EATERS." A scream.
"Why?" Came a cool voice, calmer than the others. "You betrayed him—we could have WON."
"No—you COULDN'T HAVE," and now he was dueling with a final Death Eater, masked and covered in luxurious thick robes, looking like a poisonous moth, well protected from the disintegration magic with some nuanced shield of his own. They may have been evenly matched if Snape did not have two wands, casting double the amount of spells, his magic moving as fast as his brain could, which was lightning speed.
Harry gasped as Snape's shield tank broke.
Next, he was disarmed, his wand flying out of his hand. …But his mother's wand sealed a protective bubble around him as quickly as it broke, before the disintegration could invade the air around him.
Snape smiled, like a free hand was JUST what he wanted. Pulling out another potion from his pocket, he uncorked it with his teeth, undoing his own protective bubble, and tossed the bottle at his opponent's shield. The bottle broke against it, the potion eating the shield like acid. Performing what felt like two spells at once, Snape's fallen wand zoomed back into his hand like a magnet and Eileen Prince's wand protected her son, recreating the tank barrier.
"Pathetic..." Snape dripped, going in on him with several spells, shattering every protective charm he could place up after that.
"We could have rallied around you."
"And why would I want that?" Snape laughed. He had him cornered against a wall, his final shield charm busted.
"You alone understood!"
Harry yelled in warning as he noticed unmistakable Fiendfyre erupting from the Death Eater's wand.
"He will return to us!" the Death Eater declared victoriously.
An impenetrable blackness erupted from Snape's wand, swallowing the Fiendfyre as quickly as it came, sucking it into what looked like a powerful miniature black hole. As it sucked in the Fiendfyre, the space around them moved, the partially disintegrated bodies stretching as if warped, threatening to distort and bleed. Snape raised his second wand to his chest.
"Voldemort is dead."
Snape blasted what looked like the same disintegration magic the Death Eaters were using straight into his opponent's protective cloak, destroying it. Done with the Fiendfyre, Snape's second wand arm came down like an ax and shot a stunning spell directly into his heart.
He stepped back from the stunned wizard, swiping his wand around the room, dissipating the disintegration magic that slowly ate the bodies. Harry and the rest of the Aurors circled the door, feeling like most of the danger had passed.
But as he cleaned up, Snape stopped, feeling like something was off, perking his head up, alarmed and perturbed. Ignoring the bodies around his feet, he walked around wide-eyed, listening, searching, and even smelling. Finding what he was looking for, he ripped open a sideways closet, reached in, and pulled out a hooded Death Eater by the wrist.
"100 points from Slytherin!" he yelled sarcastically. "I expected better from you, Miss Parkinson."
"NO, SNAPE!" Robards shouted down at him. "She RATTED them out. She HAD to be here—didn't want anything to seem amiss."
"Did she now?" and his eyes danced back at her, delighted, like this was exactly what he expected from her. "Well then, ladies first..." and he graciously levitated her up through the doorway past the wards. Pansy gave a disgusted look at Harry as she smoothed down her protective cloak despite missing fingers and walked away like she had nothing to do with this whole affair.
Without mercy or care for the partially disintegrated bodies, Snape flew out of the house, his feet touching gracefully down, instantly sending out a Patronus. Harry strained to see what the new doe looked like, but it was already halfway across the clearing, bright and glowing.
"WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE!?" he bellowed at Harry, pointing. "ST. MUNGO'S! Take him! He will need to be seen!"
"IS THIS MY LIFE NOW?" Harry rounded on him. "Whenever you think I'm in trouble, you're just going to SHOW UP!?"
"YES!" Snape roared. "YOU ARE RECKLESS! And so is HE!" he pointed at Ron's body in the grass. "ST. MUNGO'S—NOW! I will meet you there in an HOUR!"
"SHOWING UP AT MY WORK UNANNOUNCED!" Harry yelled back "I can't tell you the CONVERSATION we're going to have when we. get. HOME!"
Snape stepped in, getting in his face. "When we get home you. will. THANK ME! Your friend could have DIED." He jabbed Eileen Prince's sharp wand directly into his chest. And now he was nose to nose with him. "Now… go..." Snape whispered dangerously.
Despite feeling humiliated in front of his entire team, Harry chose Ron's life instead of arguing. His last view was of Robards, Olivia, and Weepy looking at Snape's back, cautiously impressed. Harry levitated Ron past the barriers and Disapparated, heading for St. Mungo's.
Seconds seemed like minutes. Harry couldn't take it. Who was going to show up? Not Mrs. Weasley, please not her. This was all his fault, wasn't it? He didn't want to be responsible for anyone dying anymore. He didn't want to meet with families after every single one of his blunders.
Harry jumped as Hermione burst through the door. "Ron!" She stared at his body in the bed, unable to comprehend it. She shook her head, screwing up her face. "I knew this was going to happen, I just knew it! I couldn't think all day. It's torture, knowing you're both out there. A mess, a complete mess!"
They weren't a complete mess, Harry thought defensively. How was he supposed to know they were going to target him, and only him?
She looked at Ron, so peaceful in his bed he could be sleeping, but she did not cry. Maybe she didn't have enough tears, maybe she cried them all out last year. Sitting down next to him, she looked defeated, preparing for the long night.
"Are you hurt?" She sounded angry.
"No," he blinked and swallowed. "I don't think so."
"Why did Severus send a Patronus, and not you?"
"Because he's smarter than me, Hermione."
"No, why was he there?"
"Oh… he… he just was," he said lamely. "I lied to him and said I'd be at home. Came and found me."
"You lied to him?"
"I didn't want him to worry. After…" after you were worried.
"What happened?" she whispered, closing her eyes like maybe she didn't want to know.
"They… summoned me? They were trapped but were able to summon me? Not like a Summoning Charm, like… a Portkey for short distances? It felt like a Portkey… but I didn't touch anything. I got trapped underground with them. Ron came in after me when I didn't resurface. Robards tried to stop him but… but… he broke rank." He swallowed hard. "So… I'll have a talk with him about that. I'd rather of it been me, Hermione, please, you know I didn't want this," he begged her, "it should have been me!"
"And how would that be better?" she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, fighting back emotion. "No matter who's in that bed—how would that be better?"
Harry looked away, ashamed. Even now he was playing the hero. Is that it? He should just quit so people who loved him wouldn't have to worry? If he left the team, would Ron follow? So Hermione could go home to someone who would remain alive?
They waited. After a while Harry wasn't sure why they were waiting. If Mrs. Weasley knew, she would be here by now. But a commotion outside in the hallway reminded him.
"I'm fine—LET go of me!"
"NO!" Snape cut her off, still holding Pansy by the wrist, shoving her into the care of a Mediwizard. "Her fingers are disintegrated. I re-grew the flesh but she will need Skele-Gro." Pansy shot him a filthy look as she was ushered through a doorway.
Harry closed the door to Ron's room and met him outside. Snape's robes were torn up and looked a little worse for wear like some Death Eaters still managed to rouse and put up a fight. "Sev…"
"Why are you upset? He's alive, isn't he?"
"It's my fault… it's all my fault. Why did he come in after me? He should have left me in there!"
Snape softened, pulling him in. "Not everything is your fault."
Harry's eyes began to well up. He felt weak. He wanted to be yelled at, knowing Ron was in that room because of him. He didn't want Hermione to see him like this, but if she did, she would know how sorry he was. Snape held him as he started to choke, losing his battle with composure.
"Go in. He's not awake."
Harry gasped and pulled away, hearing Snape address someone else. Draco was there, standing in impeccable robes looking at Harry like he was humiliated for him.
"She is there. Go," Snape instructed.
Draco skirted by them.
"What are you doing here?" Harry croaked angrily.
"I don't think you should be an Auror," Draco said flatly with his hand on the door. "It would be an honor for any Dark wizard to take you out. They would do it just for the bragging rights. You're going to be killed."
"Why are you HERE!?" Harry demanded, furious this time.
"Like I was going to miss an opportunity to see Weasley hurt," and he went in.
"Don't listen to Draco," Snape whispered. "He doesn't understand."
"You just TOLD ME I was reckless!" Harry hissed. "You AGREE with him!"
"And I meant it," but he smiled. "I'm dating a reckless person. I knew what I was getting into… and so did you."
"You're not worried when I'm at work?"
"What? With a Hallow and a bunch of baby Death Eaters?" he whispered. "Why would I be worried?"
"I don't know..."
"Are you saying you felt unprepared?" Snape's voice sounded soft, eyes searching him for the truth.
"No!" Harry blinked, feeling steadier, thinking. "I was …fine! I was… just in the moment. I was doing alright! Twenty against one… and I was… doing alright!" His heart quickened even now, remembering. "I was actually… doing pretty good? Managed to fool 'em for a while." Even now, he felt the rush. "I was… holding my own! I wasn't scared until Ron showed up. And then I was terrified. I'll … I'll have to tell him. Not to break rank again," he swallowed. "Yeah, he can't do that again, it's safer if he doesn't break rank." Snape seemed satisfied at his declaration to lecture Ron.
"Snape!" Robards rounded the corner. Harry, who was very close to him, took two steps back.
"Don't you have 30 prisoners to deal with?" He left Harry's side to 'go deal' with Robards
"Less than twenty now. What was that spell?"
"Which one?"
"All of them!"
"No idea."
Both of them walked towards each other like they were about to duel in the hallway of the hospital.
"We're dealing with PARTIAL BODIES, Snape! We need to know what they used!"
"And how should I know?"
"That was a lot of Dark Magic coming from your wand, Snape!" Their boots met each other's, now toe to toe, squaring up to each other.
Snape straightened for the challenge, taller. "Did you disillusion your eyeballs as well? You are mistaken."
"Back to the Ministry with me—NOW!"
"I refuse."
Harry stepped away to let them argue. Swallowing, he prepared himself to go back inside, but before he entered, he heard her crying. He cringed, listening to Hermione for a few moments, closed his eyes to steel himself, and opened the door to a scene he was not prepared for: Hermione crying in Draco's arms—Hermione's bushy hair buried into his chest, shaking, taking up his entire torso. Harry's mouth fell open. Draco noticed but did not let her go.
Sounds of Robards and Snape yelling filled the hallway behind him. He was trapped. He chose to awkwardly enter the room and stand lamely in the corner while she cried.
Snape entered a suspiciously short time later, the screaming match over.
"Are you hurt?" Draco asked Snape.
"No." And Harry could feel the lie. If Snape was surprised to see Hermione in Draco's arms, he made no mention. "Where is Weasley's mother?"
"I… I didn't send for her… too embarrassed. I'll... I'll do it now." Harry got out his wand.
"No…" Hermione said in a strained voice, breaking away. "I'll do it." Stepping back and stifling a few last sobs, she sent out her Patronus.
"Can… can I leave?" He looked both at Hermione and Snape. Hermione nodded—I'll take care of the family stuff.
Not needing to be told twice, he bolted.
"Don't read into it," Snape hissed behind him in the hallway.
"How the HELL am I not supposed to read into THAT!?" Several terrible scenarios of a split friend group again bubbled up in his mind, Ron livid Hermione left him for Draco of all people, while Ron had a series of rebounds, each more terrible, attractive, immature, and thicker than the last.
"You're jumping to conclusions. He will not date her and vis versa, let it go."
"That was just weird!" Harry said with a bad taste in his mouth.
"I don't think you understand her."
And the audacity of Severus Snape telling HIM that he didn't understand his own friend was too much for him to bear.
Instead of Apparating directly home, they Apparated a kilometer from Grimmauld place, walking back in the fresh air to collect themselves.
"Am I still in trouble?" Snape cooed, his robes ripped and scorched, hair a mess.
"No…" Harry decided. "YES."
An eyebrow raised. "Oh? How do we figure?"
"I don't want to be seen as a dependent at work. Not around that lot. You embarrassed me."
"You defeated Lord Voldemort, what do you have to prove?"
"How'd you get rid of Robards?"
"Easy. He wanted something."
"Really? What did he want? That was a lot of screaming."
"He tried to convince me… you're in constant danger and it would be… safer if I joined you at the Ministry. I had to remind him that I am deputy headmaster at Hogwarts and I'm not for sale."
Harry's mouth twisted. "He tried to BRIBE you with my safety!?"
"Yes. I also reminded him that you're very good at slipping out of trouble; assured him you've been doing it for years… AND… I still rather like the Dark Arts. Best not be tempted."
And when they got home Harry DID thank him. He thanked him for fifteen minutes on the floor, all of his built-up adrenaline leaking into the thank you. Fingers roaming, Harry realized Snape was hurt, but didn't seem bothered by his injuries. Far from it- he rubbed his fingers through Harry's disheveled hair, head back, extremely pleased with the day he had, Harry on his knees for him.
After they were done, Harry sobbed in a chair for real, head in his hands, all the fear from the day draining out. Ron could have died. Snape, cooking, glanced at him distastefully like he wished he wouldn't cry after sexual activities.
"Is he going to be okay?"
"He's going to be fine," Snape assured him.
Finished with crying, he sat motionless… unable to think or feel.
"Hagrid."
Harry stirred at this mention.
"...What?"
"Hagrid," Snape repeated, not looking at him. "That potion requires unicorn blood. It must be freely collected, originating from a minor injury the unicorn sustains naturally. Almost impossible to collect. Hagrid is the only one in the forest enough to steal the chance at collecting it. You will need to talk with him."
"I will," Harry wiped his face. "We'll see where that goes."
"He's been sitting at the staff table, not trying to throttle me. He may be open."
Harry swallowed. "Unicorn blood. Freely collected, not by force. Got it."
"I cannot make the potion without it." He stood over him holding a ladle. Harry hugged his midsection.
"Thank you…"
Snape gave a painful sigh. "I'd prefer that potion be for your mouth only. I guess I don't have a choice, do I?"
"No…" Harry mumbled into the fabric.
Another frustrated sigh. "I forget that I'm dealing with three."
Harry let go, looking at his open hands. "I don't think I'm going to make it to thirty," he said out loud for the first time, the personal mantra he'd been thinking for a year.
"Of course you will," Snape whispered.
"I… I don't feel like I should be alive. Like it's only a matter of time… nothing but a delay," his voice cracked. "Like every day into the future, it will come… circling back to correct its mistake." He swallowed. "I'm not afraid," and he wasn't. "But… it feels like death is always right behind me."
Snape sunk to his knees before him as easily as he sunk in front of Ron. From his pocket, he pulled out a third wand. Dumbledore's wand.
"Then take it."
Harry stared, dumbstruck.
"WHY DO YOU HAVE IT!" Harry screamed, knocking his chair back as he retreated. "PUT IT BACK! IT BELONGS WITH HIS BODY!"
"If you think you're going to die—KEEP IT."
"NO!" Harry recoiled, terrified to see it, not believing Snape robbed Dumbledore's grave like Voldemort. "WHY DID YOU DO IT!? PUT IT BACK! I CAN'T BELIEVE-"
"Dumbledore is DEAD! You keep forgetting-"
"NO! I don't WANT IT!"
"It's YOURS and you're an AUROR! It would-"
"NO!" Harry bellowed with finality.
"Fine." Snape straightened abruptly, casually pocketing the wand. "I'm holding onto it for you, then." He turned back to tend to the stove, continuing to make dinner like he just didn't pull out the Death Stick.
Harry stood numb and shell-shocked in the kitchen, staring at the back of Snape.
He didn't want to talk to him.
He didn't want to look at him.
And he didn't come to dinner. In fact, he felt like he would never be hungry again.
It took all of his strength and resolve to put it back, the solo trip over the lake in the dead of night, walking up to the tomb, knowing he would have to open it and face him. Just like spontaneous magic could erupt, abrupt failure could also occur: he barely had maneuvered the wand back in the fingers when the tomb lid shook and dropped, missing his decapitation by inches. The awful sound it made when it fell—a death drum he was sure that every student could hear in their beds, but in reality, woke no one. After using his sputtering magic to right the tomb lid, he dry heaved near the lake, spitting and gasping for what felt like twenty minutes. He had to throw up, but there was nothing to throw up.
As he laid in bed wrapped up in a blanket to protect him, many disturbing thoughts swirled and raced, fighting for first place—Hermione crying in Draco's arms, Ron's almost death, skirting it by a hair, his body unconscious in the hospital wing, and Snape stalking to the middle of the lake in the dead of night, effortlessly opening up Dumbledore's tomb to his body (how could he face his body) to steal his wand. When did he do it? What month? When and how could he possibly stomach that?
Snape took it! For what?
For him? Or did he take it for himself?
Hours passed and Snape finally could be heard trudging up the stairs, finally turning in himself. The door opened and Harry could feel him looking at him, wrapped up in the covers, light on, his glasses and wand not on the bedside table, obviously still awake.
Snape shed his robes to get ready for bed, making more noise than he normally would. When Harry didn't acknowledge his presence, he made an angry noise in the back of the throat and the bustling intensified. "Be angry if you must Potter, but it is a tool."
Harry, who wasn't even thinking about the wand in that moment, felt his chest roar with anger. He stole it! He stole it!
"You don't have to use it, you don't have to keep it on you! But it will be available if the need arises. Am I not allowed to keep you safe? Am I not allowed to see around corners for you? And it was there—there for anyone to take, Harry. Why would you put it back with zero protections—nothing but a dead body to scare off children?"
Harry didn't answer.
"For all you know, Albus meant you to have it."
I don't want it.
"You were an idiot to put it there. A sentimental fool."
Harry's anger peaked, his heart feeling so tight he would scream... and then waned.
"Why are you angry with me?" Snape demanded. "Your friend is alive because of my work, all the surviving Death Eaters are in custody, why are you angry with me?"
After waiting for an answer that would not come, drawers started to slam. Once the night rage routine completed, everything was quiet.
"So what, are you traumatized?"
"Excuse me?" Snape seethed.
"...You said your doe wasn't going to change, not even if you love me. You mentioned it changed last time because of trauma. ...Did I traumatize you?"
Silence.
"Did you not think loving you would traumatize me, Potter?"
"Yeah..." Harry mumbled. This week he tried to be happy the doe changed, trying to unstick his mass of congealed feelings, but it was impossible. Yes, Snape loved him... the doe changed for him, but... so what?
Covers rustling, Harry finally uncoiled himself to look at Snape—still disheveled, still a mess, still injured, and Harry felt like he didn't eat the dinner he cooked either. "I traumatized you, huh? Yeah, I can see that. ...I traumatize you too." And he rolled back into bed and covered himself up with blankets again.
The pause that followed let him know that Snape heard him perfectly.
All the banging around the room ceased immediately and was replaced by his normal graceful movements. I traumatize you too... but so what? Snape continued to alarm him with his actions, which came in second to his bravery. But he knew this: Snape loved him. Snape would probably do anything for him, no matter how misguided and twisted his morals or how off his line of thinking. He probably would do what he asked, especially if Harry put his foot down.
So: he would put the wand back if he asked. He wouldn't use the wand, because it's Harry's. The dichotomy was paralyzing and he couldn't escape it tonight, covered in blankets, confused, exhausted, hating Severus Snape, disgusted by his actions... but he loved him. Wasn't that worth something? And Snape showed that love in every gesture, every breakfast, every squeeze of his hand, the swirling black eyes that stared and lingered, saying all the things his mouth didn't. He proved that, and if he loved him, he would put the wand back.
Harry wanted to be angry, accuse him of taking the wand for himself, but he could feel he did no such thing. The wand was for him, it was always for him. Could he really be angry at that?
Weight on the other side of the bed shifted. The lights turned off.
"Aren't you going to heal your injuries?"
"And why would I do that? I need you good and traumatized."
Another blanket was conjured because Harry was hogging them all. After a few minutes, there was no movement, exhaustion stealing him, Harry awake and listening to his breathing.
It was no use, the congealed mass remained. But he decided it didn't matter—he could choose how to feel. And he chose to feel... satisfied. Satisfied that Snape would probably do anything he asked for within reason, and some things not within reason, and he would put the wand back when he told him to—he would listen to him.
Tonight had been too much, too awful, too everything. Maybe he'll ask tomorrow…