CH29: Wisdom's Woes

November 15th

8:38am

Hogwarts Grounds, Scotland

Daphne

Daphne adjusted the diadem on her head as she exited the castle. Having a sentient object to bounce ideas off had been exactly the kind of help Daphne had needed. A wearable devil's advocate, free from social sensibilities and fully focused on the task at hand. For Daphne, the task at hand was surveying their bolstered forces in light of the forest attack.

The grounds were alive with the loyalist army feeling some pressure removed from their collective neck. Magorian had reached out to the other centaur colonies across the isles, rallying them to Hogwarts. Every centaur chieftain reported the same thing, a vision of divine nature had caused chaos in their camps five months ago. A vision that had changed the course of fate.

Fate is a fool's errand, true victory is born from strength.

The diadem's wisdom aside, Daphne watched as a group of centaurs demonstrated various poultices on magical dummies for a group of mediwitches/wizards. The people seemed to be listening intently, soaking up the centaur's unique knowledge as they jotted down points on parchment. Further away from the camp on more open ground, Daphne recognised the interim High Chieftain centaur, Magorian, supervising a training drill with Harry and Moody. Magorian had been concerned that fighting from fortifications would be challenging for his brothers and sisters, but Moody was resolute in the thinking he could use the centaurs somewhere.

The beasts will be no match for an army of wizards.

'True,' she agreed. Watching from afar, Daphne saw the group of centaurs had attempted to herd and enclose the wizards into a kill box. However, their arrows would rebound harmlessly off shields erected by the loyalists. Magorian shouted a word in his native tongue and the assault ceased. 'They're disciplined. Moody will find a use for them.'

With the training session complete, the three men split into two groups. Magorian went to speak with one of the centaurs that participated in the drill and, from the frustrated grunts, seemed to be berating the beast. Harry and Moody walked together for a beat, Moody was shaking his head at something Harry said. As if sensing someone was watching him, Harry sought her out and excused himself.

The moment he got close enough, Harry pulled Daphne into a warm embrace and kissed her head. He'd been unusually affectionate the past two days and Daphne had seen him looking at her often. A part of her mind silently resented the fact that Harry's spirits had been lifted right after her parents had died but the rational side knew it was a coincidence of timing. He'd entered the forest driven by a burning need for confrontation but now… something else had managed to overtake that motivation.

The centaurs showed him something. It would explain their unprecedented mobilisation too.

'Showed him something?' Daphne knew that the power of prophecy was something the centaurs were keenly in tune with but what could have caused that reaction. 'Something about me?'

"Daphne?" The witch in question refocused her eyes and saw Harry had her at arm's length and wore a worried expression.

"Yes?"

Harry's brow was furrowed and so she knew his concern was genuine. He watched her for a moment before, presumably, asking again, "I asked if you're okay?"

Absurd, what kind of question is that?

"I'm fine." The jewellery's constant commentary became more and more frustrating by the day, Daphne was learning to selectively listen to its off handed comments. "What does Moody think now?"

"He thinks he's got his work cut out for him." Harry looked back at where Magorian was playing the role of drill sergeant with the centaur group that had trained with the wizards. There was an obvious appreciation in Harry's eyes, he seemed to be putting a lot of faith in their new allies. "They can move together like nothing I've ever seen, but they don't have the firepower to take on wizards."

Is enchanting no longer a magical practice?

"How about the twins?" Daphne had seen their skill in enchanting more times than she could count. 'Leaving the twins unsupervised with new allies, especially ones that hate regular wizards, is a recipe for disaster. Someone will need to mediate.'

"That just might work." Harry clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I fear we're still lacking in numbers. When Voldemort attacks in full force we're finished."

Who has declared for this 'Voldemort' he speaks of?

'Pureblood elite, criminals, werewolves, giants, trolls and a foreign mercenary group.'

What of the cowardly goblins?

'Good thinking.' For all its trouble, the diadem proved its worth. "Gringotts?"

"Not this again," Harry barked a short laugh, she hadn't heard him laugh in months. "We already stole a considerable amount of gold from them and besides, they haven't been seen since."

You what?

'Raided the sacred twenty eight's vaults,' she answered the artefact impatiently. "They don't know that, and it's not like they could leave the Isles."

"I'll talk to our resident goblin experts, see what we can do." Daphne could see Harry's mind turning at the opportunity of a goblin army joining their ranks. Harry turned away from the centaurs and looked at her, although it felt like he was looking over her head and not directly at her. She caught the briefest flicker of recognition as he asked, "what's this?"

The symbol of your ineptitude.

His finger was pointed at her hair and she realised what he was talking about. "It's a diadem," Harry eyed it with suspicion, unfounded Daphne thought, "I found it in the room of requirement."

Behind the emeralds in his eyes Daphne recognised pain. It didn't show for long, but she had come to know what his tells were when he was remembering something that hurt. "It suits you," he complimented, regardless of his mental suffering. He gave her a tiny cheeky smile as he continued jokingly, "your majesty."

"Shut up," she punched his arm as she smiled. It felt nice to be light hearted, unburdened if only for a moment. 'Take me back to fifth year,' Daphne implored the universe. There was an innocence that she didn't realise could be lost in those days, they could fight giants or kill a professor and still be loose enough to bicker and banter. Azkaban had changed everything; the responsibility of hundreds of lives had been too much to bear for either of them alone. 'Merlin, I miss the people we were back then.'

There is no going back to what was. There is only now and what comes next.

'Truer words…' Daphne left the thought unfinished.

Harry must've seen something in her expression and gave her arm a squeeze which brought her back to the present. "I'm going to check up on Hagrid, would you care to join me?"

What is a 'Hagrid?'

'Silence.' Harry was watching her like a hawk, the last thing she needed was for him to treat her any more differently. "That's okay," she had no desire to meet the groundskeeper in the mood that she was in. "I'll visit Astoria, bring her some breakfast, you go on."

"Alright." Harry grasped her hand and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing lightly. "Take care of yourself, okay?" he whispered in her ear. The way he said it made it seem like there was an imminent threat on her life but Daphne knew of no such danger.

'Another thing to add to the 'weird things Harry has done recently' list.' Daphne pushed him away gently and gave him a fake smile. "I will," she agreed easily. Harry still held her hand and didn't let go even though he began moving away. "Having a hard time letting go?" she teased with a raised eyebrow. Daphne didn't expect the intense sadness he attempted to hide by turning away.

"You have no idea," he intoned seriously. Any attempt to gain an answer to his ominous gravitas would prove difficult as he released his hold and damn near stomped away.

The centaurs, I'm certain of it.

'I said, silence.' Daphne watched him leave narrowed eyes. If the centaurs had shown him something, she would find out.

November 15th

10:23am

Hogwarts Grounds, Scotland

Harry

Hagrid's hut hadn't changed in the slightest since Harry had been there last. Admittedly it had been a while, there was practically no time for social calls during sixth year. If he wasn't training, he was fighting and if he wasn't doing either, he was brooding. But the time for that was over, he had to be more than what he was, better in every sense of the word.

'Actively making the right choices,' he recalled with a twang of pain. 'Even in death you're still always right, Hermione.'

Harry stepped up to the comically large door and rapped his knuckles against it three times. Inside he heard a crash and Hagrid fumble to clean up whatever mess he'd created. Fang whined as Hagrid called out, "I'll be right ther'!'"

A moment later the door swung open and Harry caught a whiff of whatever Hagrid was cooking inside. Hagrid took up the whole door as usual, but Harry was pleased to feel like the doorway had shrunk, if only a little. Even at five foot eleven, Hagrid still towered over him to the point he had to look up to meet the eight foot groundskeeper's eyes.

"'arry." Hagrid stood stock still, almost as if he'd seen a ghost. In truth, Harry didn't know what to expect from the half-giant. McGonagall had met him with hostility and Snape had saved his army in the span of a couple days, the time for expected happenings had clearly passed long ago.

"Hagrid."

"Come on in, you'll catch a ruddy cold out there." Hagrid beckoned him in and moved out of the doorway so Harry could follow his request. Sure enough, a large pot sat atop the stove in Hagrid's cramped kitchen and, true to form, Fang was positioned right beside it hoping for scraps. Harry stood awkwardly near the front door as Hagrid returned to the pot and dropped a pair of herbs in the dish. "What brings you here 'arry?"

"You, Hagrid." Harry decided to take a seat in one of Hagrid's armchairs, sinking into the heavily cushioned furniture. "I'm concerned."

"Don't you worry yourself about me Harry," Hagrid gave him the courtesy of eye contact as he waved off Harry's concerns. He pointed a meaty finger at the teenage leader as he continued, "got enough on your plate I reckon." Fang began whining louder, whether for attention or food was unclear.

'True enough.' Harry watched Hagrid struggle to maintain Fang's displeasure and whatever was brewing up in the pot. Harry stood from the chair and joined Hagrid at the kitchenette. 'Pumpkin stew, I should've known.' Without being asked, Harry took hold of the wooden spatula and began stirring whilst Hagrid threw a slab of raw meat at the incessant dog.

"Go on you great beast, stop yer yappin." Hagrid turned back to the food and sighed when he saw Harry had taken over for him. "Thank ya, Harry. You know how 'e gets." Hagrid shooed Harry away from the pot and took back control of stirring.

"You are not safe here," Harry told his friend seriously. "This castle is no longer a school."

"Got old Magorian out 'ere workin' with wizards," Hagrid tried to change the subject. "Not even Dumbledore ever managed tha'"

'Magic brought the centaurs on board, nothing more.' Harry followed Hagrids evasive manoeuvring and got in front of him again. Hagrid barely met his eyes. Harry tracked where his eyes were focused and found a framed photo sat on top of a wooden set of draws. He could see the mountains that surrounded Hogwarts in the background of the photo and, in the foreground, Hermione, Ron and himself were all laughing happily. Colin had taken the photo for them after Harry survived the second task and it seemed a copy had made its way to Hagrid's hands.

"I 'eard about, Hermione." Harry looked back at the friendly half-giant and saw that the big man was fighting back tears. "Is it true?"

'McGonagall,' Harry guessed, had told Hagrid the news. Harry stalled, bringing someone the news was never easy, he couldn't say the words and so he only nodded to confirm the rumour.

Hagrid exhaled a deep sigh and Harry could see the silent tears falling from his eyes and into his beard. He picked up the photo off the cabinet, it looked tiny in his massive hands, and stared at the joyous moment captured in time. "She was the best, our 'ermione," Hagrid wiped the tears from his eyes, "wasn' a thing she couldn't figure out."

'Including herself,' Harry thought fondly. Hagrid sat in his armchair and filled it out much more comfortably than Harry ever could. The photo he left on the drawers and Harry made it a point to look at it no longer. 'The temptation to stare at it all day would be too great.'

"How did she die?"

Harry's neck cracked due to the speed he whipped his face in Hagrid's expression. The man was looking for closure and that Harry could give him more easily than comfort. "Fighting," he replied simply.

"Then my decision is final." Hagrid stood up from his chair and his purposeful strides to a cabinet near the front door shook the house shook the walls. He opened the cabinet door so hard that Harry was worried it would fly off of its hinges. Harry could see gardening equipment and various tools inside as Hagrid rummaged around the cabinet. "If they," he stopped his rummaging to gesture at the photo on the drawers, "died figh'ing, then who am I ta do anything else?"

Before Harry could protest, Hagrid pulled free an abnormally large forest axe. Along the wooden handle were carved in runes, easily a hundred in number. "It's true, old he-who-must-not-be-named will come knocking one day." Hagrid flipped the axe over in his hands, testing its unfamiliar weight. "We'll be by your side, 'arry, as I have been since you were no bigger than a niffler."

Harry wasn't going to turn down another ally and so he abandoned his plea for Hagrid to flee.

"You're a great man Hagrid," Harry outstretched his hand and Hagrid quickly accepted the handshake. As Harry tried to hide the pain from a half-giant's intense grip, he realised he didn't fully understand what Hagrid had said. "Wait," he said, "what do you mean we?"

"My brother o' course!"

November 16th

7:21pm

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire

Voldemort

The crunch of bones cracking under pressure perforated the ears of all those at the inner circle table. All things considered, Voldemort should be incredibly pleased with the Black Chateau assault. He'd seriously depleted the loyalist man power, somewhere in the hundreds reports told him and he'd unbalanced perhaps their biggest threat in Daphne Greengrass. Not to mention the recovery of several inner circle members, Rookwood, the Carrows and Severus Snape.

There was of course a distinct difference in how one of those four had been 'recovered.' For instance, Rookwood and the Carrows were seated at the table, as was their right. The three were under intensive nutritional and magical therapy, having been starved of both good food and access to magic for months. But they were on the mend and were given high praise from the Dark lord himself for not breaking under the Ice Queen's onslaught.

The distinct thwack of flesh against stone echoed in the aristocratic hall as Voldemort tossed the traitor into a wall. Severus Snape had less so been recovered and more reconstituted. His face was completely unrecognisable, it was so puffy that he must have been having trouble breathing and what wasn't pink from the abuse was red with blood from open cuts that were never granted the opportunity to heal. His legs were bent at awkward angles, the same for his arms and to further his humiliation his clothes had been stripped down to nothing. Naked, beaten and alone, Severus Snape suffered Voldemort's wrath.

"My friends, I bring before you a man of unique disgrace." Voldemort twisted his wand and Snape rose into the air above the long table. The Dark Lord watched Lucius cringe as the godfather of his only child passed him and that only served to fuel Voldemort's vindication. "As your brothers and sisters languished under the barbaric hospitality of Potter and Greengrass this one," he cancelled the spell and Snape fell unceremoniously to the table with a thud, "sold our secrets to the enemy."

"My Lord, please let me–"

"Silence, Bellatrix." Bellatrix slinked back into her seat to sulk, Voldemort paid her immaturity no mind. 'None deserves this more than I, deceived for decades, by the only one I could truly call a friend.'

Voldemort opened his palm and enforced his will on the limp spy. Snape's body squeaked in protest as his skin was dragged against the ornate marble. The high pitched sound caused many of the Dark Lord's followers to cringe and cover their ears. Voldemort didn't notice, to him, it was only the betrayed and the betrayer. Snape finally reached the end of the table, right in front of who he presumed to forsake. The man's eyes were closed but Voldemort could sense his state consciousness.

"Look at me, Severus." Voldemort's whispered command was obeyed slowly. Opening his eyes was now an almost insurmountable task for the beaten potion master but he did so nonetheless. Black met red and Voldemort spoke but one word. "Why?"

Snape stared at him, it was all he could do but Voldemort could see intention behind those beady eyes.

'Legillimens,' the Dark Lord commanded and entered the potions master's mind. Severus was a child, by a pond. He practised magic even at such a young age. A girl with hair like fire and dazzling green eyes watched him. Snape was scared, he thought he'd get in trouble, but the girl picked up a blade of grass and enclosed it in her hands. When she opened them, a butterfly flew into the sky, she had magic too.

'What is this?'

Snape showed him the next memory. The little deceiver was sitting in a Hogwarts express compartment with the fiery haired girl opposite him. Each of them had their textbooks open, excitedly discussing the coming content. In little Snape's eyes, the Dark Lord saw only infatuation.

'A woman? She turned you?'

The memory swirled into a mess of colours and sound before stabilising on a hill overlooking Hogwarts castle. Snape was on his knees, begging Dumbledore to hide a woman away, fearing for her life. Dumbledore, ever the shrewd manipulator, bought Snape's loyalty at that moment.

'Traitorous cad.'

Then, almost with reluctance, the memory swiped away into the next. Snape was in a house wrought with destruction. He climbed the stairs, stepping over a body at the top.

'I know this place,' Voldemort realised with something akin to fear, 'I know that face.'

Snape stumbled down a narrow hallway towards a door that had been blown off its hinges. Staggering, he entered the room and first saw a black cloak discarded on the floor. Then, a crying baby with a lightning scar, sitting up in his cot and staring at something on the floor. In the centre of the room lay a woman. Her body slumped against the baby's cot, eyes unblinking and her fiery red hair singed from roots to tip.

Snape collapsed beside her, checked for a pulse and cried out in anguish when he found none. He cradled the woman in his arms, crying and blubbering the whole time. Eventually, he stood and cast a disillusionment on himself. Rubeus Hagrid burst into the room and scooped up Harry as Snape disapparated from the Potter home in Godric's Hollow.

'You swore to spare her,' Voldemort heard resonate in his mind, 'you lied.'

The memory ended and Voldemort was once more face to face with the turncoat.

"Love," he muttered in disbelief. Snape shed a tear and closed his eyes; he knew what was to come. "Love can not overcome destiny, Severus. I had thought you, of all people, would understand that." Voldemort's wand rose with his arm, until the tip was mere millimetres from Snape's right eye.

"Avada kedavra," Voldemort whispered. Those closest to the Dark Lord at the table of the inner circle would secretly wonder if they had seen a flicker of sadness in those crimson slits.

Severus Snape died on a table in Malfoy Manor, naked and alone. His obsession with Lily Potter would no longer serve to hinder the dark forces, nor torment Harry Potter. Voldemort made no speech about triumph or superiority, no grand display of his omniscience. He merely nodded to a servant in the far corner of the room who levitated Snape's body away. Voldemort dismissed the others with a flick of his hand and remained at the table to ponder the night of his greatest blunder.

Author's Note

The diadem's influence rears its head. Remember, Horcruxes are crafty, and Daphne is at her most vulnerable. Harry's role in the seduction of Daphne's psyche should be clear from this chapter but it'll get hammered home in the next few.

We're at Hogwarts, figured we should check up on Hagrid. Simple as that.

The death of Severus Snape was something I struggled with for a little while. There were two other ways I had it written… his death here was the last one I thought of. At first, he was going to die in a later battle, sacrificing himself for something. Then it was in Harry's escape from Malfoy Manor. But here, his death had meaning in helping the loyalists evacuate but ultimately there is no glory. I do not like Snape, I do not think he deserves redemption on the basis of an obsession with a dead girl. However, that obsession is a core part of his character and I feel like I kept that alive whenever he was in a scene up until the end.

Not a lot happening here, just closing things off and building new things up.

Thanks for reading!

RevanchistVII