A/N: You know, I'm not sure how much is left in this story. There's still a fair bit, of course, but we're definitely getting closer. It's still a long homestretch, but I think I can confidently say we have started the homestretch for this story.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you do, please, leave a review. Thank you so much.

Translations:
[English text] Syngnómi aderfé = [Greek text] Συγγνώμη αδερφέ = Sorry, brother

Also, an announcement on a new endeavour of mine related to my fanfiction work. I have created a YouTube channel where I have begun to record myself reading my own work, so, kind of like podfics, I guess. I wanted to give more accessibility and just the option of listening for those that want/need the option. I may upload these podfics on AO3 at some point as well, but, for now, they're just on YouTube. There's only 3 videos so far, just the first 3 chapters of "The Four Swords of Hogwarts", but there will be more. So, the channel is "TheLostBoys333" if you want to check it out :)

Chapter 58

Marcus,

There's more to the prophecy than you know. It is not a normal prophecy and I know you've realized that by now. It's tied to Snape and those boys, and they're tied to it. Something about that magic they all have and that bond of theirs…this prophecy did not just speak this possible future, I think it made it happen and tied itself to those it chose to make sure it happened.

Except something is happening to it. It's breaking and seems to be losing power. It's covered in Dark Magic.

There's something you need to understand.

If that prophecy breaks before it can be fulfilled, it will take its magic back. That power will disappear forever. If it breaks or is drained or is destroyed…Leif, your boys will die.

That's why Scrimgeour is trying so hard to get them. He found out. He wants their magic before it's gone and the boys die. He found out there's a way to take their magic and store it.

It's those crystals that Lucius stole back in November.

Scrimgeour wants to put their magic in those crystals and duplicate them to give to an Auror task force he wants to create, a task force that will hunt down Dark wizards and creatures, but to do what with them, I don't know. They would be the ultimate soldiers with the ability to use the magic of the gods and the magic of the universe.

It's my fault. He knew I've been helping you, he knew I knew about the crystals, and he found out I was the only one that could still get into Mysteries. I refused to tell him anything, but it didn't matter, not once he brought in Penroix.

I'm sorry.

This is likely the last you'll hear from me. I don't have answers for what can be done, but I hope you figure it out. It was nice to see you happy for the first time in all the years I've known you.

It's been a pleasure…most of the time.

Goodbye, Leif.

Jasper

"What do you mean he's gone?"

Alexei looked up from Barlow's letter as he asked, handing it to Severus and looking at Leif who was leaning against the mantle, arms crossed. He kept close attention on Severus, sensing the tension that began coursing through the man's body, the same tension he felt and had Leif's face tight as he stared at the floor. The anxiety he'd been able to feel and smell on his friends had been overwhelming in the three weeks since Leif's suspension and Scrimgeour's threats. While he'd been concerned as well over everything going on, he had been far more distracted by the subtle changes he'd been able to smell in Severus' worry and pain. Something was happening with the man's Mark and he'd been silently focusing on it.

"I mean he's gone," Leif said, a snap in his voice, and Alexei turned away from Severus at the tone. "He's not answering letters and no one at the Ministry can tell me where he is."

Alexei's gaze turned sharp even as it slid back to Severus briefly when he heard the letter rustle. Severus had his own arched eyebrow and had propped his elbow on the chair arm, cradling his face in his fingers. Barlow's letter remained in his grasp, left arm draped over his crossed legs.

"Were you not banned from the Ministry premises three weeks ago?" Severus retorted dryly.

Alexei looked between the two as Severus' eyebrow jumped further at the withering stare Leif sent him, an uncharacteristic expression for the immortal. Leif had been progressively shorter tempered in the last few weeks as he fought to get information on Scrimgeour and the prophecy from Barlow while trying not to let him or Severus realize how guilty he felt for no longer being their eyes and protection within the Ministry. Alexei had noticed, though, able to smell it just as easily as he could smell Severus' bloody arm.

"I'm an Aetherion, Severus. Do you really think I didn't remove the tag on my wand immediately?"

Alexei watched Severus scowl at the patronising tone, feeling Leif's swift regret.

Leif sighed and rubbed his forehead, swiping the loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Syngnómi, aderfé," he muttered. "Don't worry. I know how to avoid being seen. I talked to a few other Unspeakables and they all said Barlow has just disappeared without a word to anyone. This seems to be his last letter."

When Severus shifted, presumably to glance at the letter again, Alexei looked at him, smelling a change in the man's pain.

"Severus, are you alright?" he asked and Severus looked at him questioningly. "Something changed in your Mark."

"It's fine," Severus said dismissively. "Your venom has simply become ineffective."

Alexei's eyebrows pulled together, unconvinced, and he shared a glance with Leif who was also frowning slightly, clearly feeling or seeing something in their friend's magic.

"Who is this Penroix?" Severus asked, obviously trying to move the focus back to Barlow and his revelations about the prophecy instead of it being on him. "What do they have to do with any of this?"

Leif drummed his fingers on his arm, staring distantly beyond Severus and Alexei for a few seconds. "You have to understand the Ministry is worse than you know. Unless you work in certain areas of the Ministry, there are things you don't and will never know. The same way there are departments and things that don't 'exist', there are people that don't 'exist' and Leon Penroix is one of them."

Severus frowned and Alexei looked closely at Leif, searching the strange, knowing defensiveness that rose in the man. Leif knew this Penroix beyond name and beyond the Ministry.

"Who is he?" Alexei pressed.

"He's an interrogator," Leif replied shortly. "He's a Legilimens with a very particular method."

"Scraping?" Severus guessed gravely and Leif gave a short nod.

"He was recruited," Leif added, seeming to not want to expand beyond that.

Alexei's eyes narrowed. "Why? How do you know him?"

Leif looked pained as he finally moved his gaze from the wall beyond them to meet Alexei's eyes. "We worked closely during Grindelwald's War and then again on the ICW task force. He is skilled at shearing away layers of the mind and scraping out the information he wants." He paused and Alexei could see the fight Leif had with himself over continuing, clearly questioning whether he wanted to reveal or confess whatever it was. "Alexei, he's the reason we found your clan. You were next for interrogation. It's why I helped you. I knew what he would do to you."

Alexei was stunned. They'd never really spoken of that time when Leif had helped capture him, but then turned around and helped him escape. Whenever they had, Leif had simply told him he'd finally changed his mind about being on the task force and had helped Alexei escape to start his redemption for all he'd done in prior decades and centuries.

"Why me?" Alexei wondered quietly. There had been an entire clan for Leif to have chosen from. Why had he been chosen to survive out of all of them…again?

Leif's eyes fluttered shut, the pain in his eyes hidden, but not the pain and overwhelming regret Alexei could see and smell in the rest of his friend.

"You were the only one left. I'd already watched and helped destroy the rest of your clan. I couldn't do it to you too. I knew you weren't like them," Leif replied in a near-whisper, sounding tortured by his confession. He opened his eyes then and his green eyes swam with all manner of emotion as he met Alexei's eyes again. "I felt you and I had never felt anyone before."

Alexei stared at him, taken aback by the truth of what had happened back then. He had no idea what to think or feel, let alone how to respond.

"Leif," Severus interrupted gently and Alexei blinked. He'd nearly forgotten Severus was there. "If Scrimgeour went to the trouble of using such a person to get information out of Barlow, does that mean what he said in this letter is true?"

"I don't know," Leif admitted, finally looking away from Alexei and at Severus instead.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Severus demanded.

"Damn it, Severus, I'm not an expert on prophecies!" Leif snapped. "All I know is what I've read and seen, and nothing this prophecy is doing is anything like what I've read or seen. Barlow—Jasper was my way in."

"How did he know so much?" Alexei asked, half a mind still in the revelation behind his survival so long ago.

"Every Unspeakable has a specialty inside Mysteries," Leif told them. "Jasper specialized in prophecies. Without him, I have no way of knowing what's happening or what to do."

"He didn't seem to know either," Alexei replied awkwardly, trying to comfort Leif in his guilt while still feeling blindsided by Leif's revelations.

"They can't die," Severus said quietly. "I can't lose them."

Alexei looked at him at the broken whisper before sharing a sad look with Leif. When he suddenly smelt a wave of pain, bitter and mixed with rusty blood, his eyes sharpened as they moved back to Severus. The man was showing no outward signs, but something was happening and, from the way Leif stiffened, standing a little straighter, he'd noticed it too.

"There must be something we can do," Severus said, eyes darting between the two of them.

"There are rumours, legends that say some prophecies need the touch of their subjects," Leif offered hesitantly. "I'm not sure for what purpose."

Severus suddenly jumped from his chair, circling it to lean on the back, bowing his head as his fingers clenched on the leather, making it squeak.

"That cannot be our only option," Severus said, shaking his head. "I cannot give them to Scrimgeour to be experimented on and tortured."

Alexei was only vaguely hearing Severus' words, utterly overwhelmed by the sickly sweet yet bitter, acrid smell filling his senses. It was more than blood, more than pain; it was…death. He slowly rose to his own feet, trying to control his growing terror over the smell and the harsh tremour he could see tearing through Severus' left fingers. He also spotted the tiniest spot of black peeking out from the man's sleeve on the back of his hand.

"Severus, something's changed," Alexei said, eyes glued to his friend.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, never lifting his bowed head.

"Your Mark," Leif replied, taking a small step towards Severus, away from where he'd been standing against the fireplace. "Something—"

"It's fine," Severus dismissed.

"No, no, it's not," Alexei argued. "Something is wrong."

Severus' head flew up, face fierce. "Yes, something is wrong! My sons are going to die because of magic that should make them remarkable and a bond that should have saved them!"

"Severus…" Leif said quietly, and Alexei saw the way his eyes were sharp, slightly wider than normal as they were fixed on what Alexei knew was Severus' magic.

Alexei turned to Severus when the scent increased and it was only his unnatural speed that allowed him to catch Severus as he suddenly collapsed, eyes rolling back. He lowered the man to the floor as Leif hurried over, crouching next to them.

"What the hell is happening?" Alexei asked, eyes darting over their unconscious friend as the smell of blood filled his senses. His eyes were pulled to Severus' left arm where he noticed dark blood beginning to spread across the stone beneath Severus' arm. In an instant, Alexei reached over and tore Severus' sleeve up to the elbow, revealing the Dark Mark. His eyes widened.

The black lines that made up the Mark had opened, lacerations deep in the skin and pouring blood while the skin around it had bubbled and turned black as though scorched. From the Mark, disappearing under Severus' shirt, were writhing black threads that covered his skin like a dense spiderweb. Alexei swiftly tore Severus' shirt open, revealing the threads that had spread all over his chest, writhing and pulsing, and with every pulse, Severus' body twitched. As he watched, he saw the smallest, thinnest strings of glittery, colourful magic travel through the black spiderweb as though pulled from Severus' body.

"Leif," Alexei breathed.

"I'm looking," Leif said, sounding desperate.

Alexei glanced at him, seeing the green eyes locked on Severus but distant, looking at everything Alexei couldn't see.

"Dark Magic," Leif muttered. "Pure Dark Magic is flooding Severus' body and core through the Mark."

Alexei looked at Severus' arm again. "Pure Dark Magic is destructive to anything it touches," he echoed, remembering.

"Voldemort's taking Severus' magic, replacing it with Dark Magic, using their magic to make his more powerful, more deadly," Leif explained.

"Why? Why not just kill him outright?"

"He wants their magic. Only corrupted souls can exist and thrive with Dark cores. Voldemort is going to take as much magic as he can before Severus dies from the Dark Magic," Leif replied. "He can't use their magic to hurt them, not while the bond exists."

"Which it won't if Severus dies," Alexei said in realization.

"He's gathering magic so he can destroy them and the prophecy once Severus is gone," Leif said. "He's the reason the prophecy is breaking, because he's draining them and fracturing the bond."

"What do we do?"

Leif just stared at him, eyes haunted as they slid to Severus.

"The bond has been touched by the Dark. It is fractured."

Harry watched Voldemort's black tendrils writhe over the dim prophecy, seeing and hearing it crack beneath the threatening strands of magic. When a piece of the prophecy fell off the orb and clattered on the floor, a sharp, tearing pain ripped through Harry's chest.

"He is within you. He is within the bond."

"No, he can't be."

"Each hold a door to the bond and two have been opened."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, knowing he was one of them.

Another shard fell from the prophecy and Harry grasped at his chest in pain.

"Save the bond or death will be the fate of the three."

"Oh, yes, death is your fate, dear Harry." Voldemort's voice slithered out of the darkness and the prophecy's dying light flickered.

"We've been trying to protect the bond," Harry said desperately. "What do we do?"

"Close the door in use and come to me."

"How?"

There was no response except for the rush of magic that washed over him. He cried out in agony as something tore viciously inside him at the same time the prophecy exploded, showering him in the blue crystal covered in black tendrils. He fell to his knees, hands hitting a floor covered in sharp pieces of crystal that buried themselves into his palms. When weakness flooded his body, he was about to collapse completely only for a hand to wrap around his throat and push him to his knees, arching his back to make him meet Voldemort's flashing eyes and twisted grin.

"Do you feel it, Harry?" Voldemort said, his voice slick. "Do you feel me?"

Harry couldn't help but scream as he continued to be ripped apart from the inside, feeling the slices being made in his magic…in the Life Bond.

Voldemort leaned in close and Harry was able to see the glittery colours swirling in the red eyes.

"He feels me," Voldemort whispered and was suddenly behind Harry, hand still gripping his throat but now craning his head down to look at the floor where the prophecy pieces were just barely glowing beneath the black strings still covering them.

Everything went dark for a split second and then Harry was looking at the still, bloodied body of Severus, the same black threads that had shattered the prophecy slithering across Severus' body from his left forearm where the Dark Mark poured blood. Harry's heart stopped at the sight and he struggled to tell himself Voldemort had shown him this same thing multiple times. It wasn't real.

Fighting through the painful tearing still happening inside his chest, Harry struggled against Voldemort's hold. He let out a shout and his struggling halted when Voldemort curled his fingers, digging into his throat, as something snapped inside him.

"I told you I was inside," Voldemort hissed. "I told you I would take them."

"I won't let you," Harry growled.

"Oh, but I am," Voldemort said, a drawl in his voice.

"You're lying. It's not real."

"Are you so certain?"

It grew dark again and when the light returned, the bodies of Draco, Leif, and Alexei had joined Severus, all bloodied and all covered in black tendrils. It was a horrific sight, one of the most painful things he'd ever witnessed, and it was difficult not to just give into the grief it caused, no matter how sure he was it was all a lie.

"Are you so certain that what you see, what you feel is all a dream?" Voldemort taunted and his fingers slid up Harry's neck into his hair, gripping it tight and yanking Harry's head back. He met the monster's eyes again, red no longer, but instead swirling glittering colours of stolen power. "You know they are mine. Your love means nothing."

"Your love means everything…"

"You think being able to take our magic means it's yours, that you can win," Harry spat, "but you will never truly have it."

Voldemort sneered. "You forget, Harry, there is only power and those too weak to seek it."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the echo of words from so many years earlier deep beneath the castle.

"Say goodbye to your dear Severus," Voldemort purred. "We will see each other very soon."

"I'll kill you when we do," Harry promised.

Voldemort sneered again and Harry was thrown to the floor, left to gaze at the bodies of his family as Voldemort continued to tear their bond apart.

Draco was halfway between sleep, inside the strange dream of magic drifting around him as strands burned and snapped one by one, each causing sharp pain in his chest, and consciousness where he just barely managed to hear a voice calling for him.

"Draco…"

He flinched as something pulled harshly in his chest, still caught in the whirlwind of colourful magic that twisted around him, tangling and knotting together. The black strands wrapped around the white, gold, blue, green, yellow, red, and rainbow ropes, burning and snapping them.

"Draco, wake up!"

At the same time his eyes popped open, there was another stab of pain as a few threads of magic broke and a sudden pressure that released in his chest. The dark of the room was lit up as a ball of raw Aether Magic flew up from his body, hitting the ceiling above him. He quickly pulled his arms over his face to cover from the stone debris that rained down on him. When the dust and pebbles stopped, he lowered his arms and stared up at the damaged ceiling, stunned. It had been months since he'd had any kind of uncontrolled outburst of Aether Magic; their training and bond had helped to settle his power and give him control.

"Draco."

He turned his head on his pillow at the breathy whisper of his name, the voice sounding strained, and he just barely managed to see Harry's form crouched on the floor in the dark. He sat up quickly and turned on the lamp on his end table, eyes widening when he was able to see Harry. His brother was on his hands and knees, one hand grasping at his chest, his pyjama shirt crumpled in his fist. He threw his blanket off him and swung his legs out of bed, jumping to his feet. Pain shot through his chest again, and he swayed as a strange dizziness and weakness washed over his body, making his knees buckle. He managed to stay standing, shuffling over to Harry where he then sank to his knees, reaching out to clasp Harry's shoulder.

"Some…something's wrong," Harry gasped out and raised his head just enough to allow their eyes to meet.

Draco's eyes widened again. "Bloody hell, you're bleeding again," he said, seeing the stream of blood running from Harry's nose, already dripping off his chin.

"So…so are you," Harry said and Draco instantly raised a hand to his own nose, feeling the sticky liquid there and pulling his hand back to see the blood on his fingertips. His brow furrowed. Why was he bleeding? "What…what was your dream?"

Draco blinked at his fingers for another moment, confused, before looking back at Harry, forcing himself to listen to his brother. "Uh…magic, there was magic everywhere, but it was…" He raised his other hand to his chest where a deep ache remained.

"Breaking," Harry finished for him and he nodded. "Voldemort…it's Voldemort, he's…he's doing something. Where…where's Dad? He…he showed me Dad…Dad was…was dying. Where…where is he?"

"He's shown you that before, it's not real," Draco told him, remembering all the other nights Harry had woken from this same nightmare. "Dad's probably asleep. It's three in bloody morning."

"We…we need him," Harry said, groaning as pain seemed to course through his body. "Something…something's wrong."

"I'll get him," Draco replied and he rose to his feet, unsteady again for a moment. He dashed from their room and across the quarters to Severus' bedroom. "Dad. Dad, it's Harry, he's…" he trailed off as he pushed the bedroom door open and the sconces lit, revealing an undisturbed bed and empty room.

Frowning, Draco reached out with his magic, ignoring the sharp tug that appeared in his chest as he did so, and searched for Severus' magic. There were plenty of remnants, but that was it. He couldn't find the man's core anywhere. Heart beginning to pound with unease and the ache in his chest growing in severity, he returned to their bedroom and knelt in front of Harry again.

"He's…he's not here," Draco said and Harry lifted his head again. "I don't know where he is."

Fear filled Harry's green eyes before they both turned to their bedroom door when they heard footsteps and found Alexei, the vampire's face full of strain.

"Come with me, boys," Alexei said, voice tight. "It's Severus."