SNARRY-A-THON10: FIC: On His Terms Title: On His Terms Author:eeyore9990 Other Pairings/Threesome: Brief glimpse of Harry/Ginny. Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 8,661 Warning(s): (highlight for spoilers) *Very brief canon character "death", implied violence, Mentor!Snape* Prompt: 317 - There wasn’t a thing Severus wouldn’t do for Dumbledore, not a single thing...or so he thought. Summary: Severus grows disgusted with Dumbledore's and Voldemort's willingness to use children to wage war. A/N: I owe a great debt of gratitude to several people for all their help and advice during the writing process. Thanks to alisanne, leela_cat, and r_grayjoy. I could NOT have done this without you! A/N, Jr: Though set during HBP, this fic is definitely AU. Proceed with caution. :P
On His Terms
Severus sat in his office, hand curled tight around a tumbler of Firewhisky as he clenched his jaw against the emotions lashing through him. Being so filled with hate made it difficult to stomach respect, but somehow he managed both sentiments with startling aptitude with regards to Albus Dumbledore. Respect for the wizard, hate for the man. And as it was the man he would have to kill, perhaps this wouldn't be too difficult.
Again, his anger nearly boiled over at the injustice of Dumbledore's request.
To keep him prisoner, to string him along all these years on empty promises—Severus snarled and flung the barely-touched alcohol into the fire, making it flare momentarily. He should have known at the moment of Lily's death that Dumbledore would make any sacrifice, human or otherwise, to advance his cause. As demented as Voldemort in his own way, was Albus. He curled one hand into a fist and pounded it once on the arm of his chair, not even flinching as something under the fabric snapped and jolts of pain radiated from his wrist.
A short rap at his door made Severus turn his head sharply toward it. He debated for a moment about calling an invitation to whichever unlucky soul was currently on the other side, but decided he didn't want an intrusion this evening. Of any sort. And if, by any chance, it was Dumbledore come for another chat, Severus would have the satisfaction of slamming the thick wooden slab in the man's face.
Pulling the door open an inch, Severus glared out and snapped, "What?"
"I'm… you gave me detention?" Potter's surly voice slid over Severus' skin like oil, making him itch with the need to strangle the impudent whelp.
"Go back to your common room, Potter. We'll reschedule your detention tomorrow."
"What?" Potter squawked. "But—I had Quidditch practice tonight! I cancelled it to attend your detention!"
Fury rose up in Severus, rushing through his head and drowning out any resolve he had left that kept him from physically assaulting the boy. Throwing the door open so that it crashed against the interior wall of his quarters, Severus took one menacing step into the hallway and glared down at Potter. "Quidditch."
Potter, too stubborn or simply too mentally deficient to understand the danger in provoking Severus at this moment, straightened and squared his shoulders, glaring at Severus—those eyes—as he spat out, "Yes, Quidditch. I realise you have no idea what it's like to actually enjoy something—"
Severus blinked and found himself holding Potter—feet dangling inches from the floor—by a firm grip around his neck. "Your. Detention. Is. Postponed." Shaking the boy slightly, he added in a malicious whisper, "Go away."
He dropped Potter and stepped back, hiding his shaking hands in the folds of his robes. The boy knew he was angry, but there was no reason to show him the extent of his emotional unravelling.
"What the hell is your problem?" Potter asked hoarsely, hand going to his throat to massage the place dark finger marks already bloomed against his pale skin. When Severus' anger flared again, the boy pushed against his carefully reconstructed control by saying, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, excuse me, I forgot how my language offends you. Sir."
"You stupid, ignorant child," Severus whispered, his voice pressed tight with rage. "You dare stand there and bemoan your precious lost Quidditch time. To me!" Reaching out, he grabbed a fistful of Potter's robes and pulled him forcefully into his rooms. "You want your detention, Potter, you shall certainly have it," he hissed.
Dragging the struggling boy over to his chair, he sat and pulled Potter down, using brute strength to fold the boy's body over his lap in a position that needed no explanations. Potter tried to rear up, but Severus, ever handy with a wordless spell, bent his hand so that it touched his wand and watched in dark pleasure as ropes shot out to bind Potter's hands to his chair. When the young fool arched his back and bent his legs to protect his backside with his feet, Severus let loose a bark of humourless laughter and sent more ropes to pull Potter's feet back to the floor, securing them there.
"You have been asking for this since the day you walked through the front doors, Potter, and it will be my pleasure to give it to you." Severus raised his hand and… stopped. Anger continued to pulse through him, so much so that it nearly drowned out common sense.
"You bastard!" Potter shouted, writhing ineffectually in Severus' lap. "You can't do this to me! I'll go to Dumbledore!"
At the mention of the Headmaster's name, Severus growled low in his throat and shouted, "Do it! Go to him! He will do nothing, Potter. Nothing." And with that promise, he pushed Potter from his lap, emotionally exhausted. "Now, unless you want the beating you so desperately deserve, you'll take my suggestion to return to your common room." His voice sounded dull to his own ears, and when the only noise that reached him was a muffled curse, he rolled his eyes and looked down at Potter who still lay splayed on the floor.
Oh, yes, the ropes.
He cast Finite and simply waved the boy off, returning to his contemplation of the fire as it crackled.
"I hate you," Potter said, his voice as lifeless as Severus felt in that moment.
"And yet here you remain."
The slamming of his door was the only answer he received.
* * * * *
The next morning, the brats in the Great Hall made Severus quite thankful for his facility with potions; from the loud chatter, rude chomping and smacking—one would think most of them had been raised by wolves—and general noise that they seemed to make simply by breathing, the students would have sent anyone with an ounce of lingering hangover back to their beds for the rest of the day. As his head was clear and without even a trace of a twinge, he settled for a black scowl.
His normal expression, then.
A flurry of activity at the Gryffindor table made him spear the culprits with a narrow-eyed look. Potter and his little fan club were creating a ruckus… actually, Potter and the girl Weasley alone, it seemed. Interestingly enough, the youngest boy Weasley didn't seem too thrilled with the fact that his little sister was draped across Potter's lap, her mouth being devoured by the boy.
Severus arched one brow and looked askance at Minerva who had become quite expert at avoiding his gaze when it came to one Harry James Potter. No matter. If she wouldn't put a stop to this ridiculous display, he would be quite happy to. Anything to ruin Potter's day.
Severus stood from his seat, ignoring Albus' sternly spoken, "Severus!"—a severe warning, to be sure—and walked purposefully from the high table down to the spot on the Gryffindor bench where Potter was actively trying to impregnate the young Miss Weasley by way of his tongue having intercourse with her tonsils.
"Potter!" Severus barked, and smirked when the boy's glasses scraped Miss Weasley's cheek as he started. "Miss Weasley, such actions are unbecoming of a young woman attending this school"—Severus ignored the way the chit looked incredulously around the room at all the other young ladies who were draped over other young men—"and as such, you will report for detention with Mr Filch this evening for your appalling lack of judgement. Potter, you will be spending the afternoon scrubbing doxy cages. Perhaps we can find an alternate outlet for this… ah, excessive energy?"
The narrowing of Potter's eyes should have alerted Severus to the fact that the boy was about to do or say something to send his temper into dangerous levels—and really, when had the boy ever done otherwise—but Severus was labouring under the erroneous assumption that Potter had been well and truly cowed the night before. As such, he was unprepared for the shock of hearing Potter say, "Aww, what's the matter, Snape? Are you jealous?"
The low chatter in the immediate area cut off as if someone had cast a Silencing Charm over the assembled students, and Severus felt his throat swell nearly closed as rage overwhelmed him. Without thinking, his hand reached into the loose sleeve of his robes to grasp the handle of his wand even as he choked out, "What did you say? You insolent little—"
"Mister Potter! That is beyond enough! My office, immediately!"
Potter had the sense to look down, his expression giving him the appearance of being abashed, as Minerva bore down upon the two of them. More to protect Potter than to reprimand him, Severus was certain.
Severus was set to follow them—to ensure that Potter received a fitting punishment—when pain flared through his body, burning into him from the point of his Dark Mark. Instinctively grasping his arm in a futile attempt to hold back the agony of a summons, Severus looked up to find Dumbledore staring back at him.
"Go," the Headmaster mouthed, and Severus could only reply with a quick jerk of his head.
Rushing from the room, Severus ignored the whispers and stares of the assembled students, intent only on breaching the boundaries of the anti-Apparation wards that surrounded Hogwarts.
* * * * *
It was shocking how quickly Severus' body re-accustomed itself to kneeling. In the year and a half that the Dark Lord had been back, Severus had settled into the routine of scraping and bowing that he'd once embraced so eagerly.
What a fool he'd been.
Head bowed, Severus paid close attention with one half of his mind—to better preserve the memory so that he might peruse it at length in his Pensieve later—while continuing to ponder the task Dumbledore had set him with the other half. It was impossible that he could do this and remain a free man at the war's end, assuming they were even capable of defeating the Dark Lord. To kill a man of Dumbledore's calibre must carry a death sentence for the one who drew his wand against him.
But struggle though he might against fate, Severus knew he'd always been expendable. Albus was simply too cunning to have played him as a pawn prior to this point. Fury rose within him again, and Severus' hand curled into a fist, activating the trigger mechanism on his wrist holster so that his wand dropped. He barely caught the handle before the length of wood clattered to the floor.
His broken train of thought allowed a movement in the centre of the room to capture Severus' full attention. The words both chilled him and refocused him on the task before him.
"Your son shall achieve the glory his father could not." The Dark Lord's sibilant tones washed over Severus, and his head twitched upward.
A slender figure in black robes knelt at the Dark Lord's feet, trembling in a way that was familiar. Narcissa. Severus' brow furrowed. They were discussing Draco's task, at long last. Finally light would be shed on the Oath Narcissa had bound him with.
"My lord." Narcissa's words, though whisper-soft, carried clearly through the obedient silence of the room. "Please, my lord, choose another—"
"Silence!" Voldemort's hand rose over Narcissa's figure, and a piercing scream rang out—Bellatrix.
"Please, my lord!" she begged, her voice ragged with devotion. "Allow me to perform this task for you. I long only to bring you glory!"
The Dark Lord's thin lips quirked upward, though he shook his head slowly, his red eyes watching as Bellatrix slumped to the floor, sobbing.
"This task can only be performed by one whose presence in the fool's domain will go unnoticed."
Severus jerked. 'The fool' could only mean Dumbledore. What did it mean that the Dark Lord was overlooking him for this task?
"When it is done, we will have full access to Hogwarts. When we have access… Dumbledore will fall!"
Murmurs of approval rose around Severus as he gnashed his teeth in frustration. What was Draco's task?
As if reading Severus' mind, the Dark Lord bade Narcissa rise and said, "And when Draco has completed his task for me, he will be welcomed into my trusted circle. When Dumbledore's corpse lies at my feet, I will embrace your son as a lieutenant in my army."
Had Severus been standing, he would have fallen to his knees. The task Dumbledore had set him, the task meant to seal his place among the Death Eaters and fend off suspicion, was being given to Draco Malfoy. A child.
A child.
Rage such as he'd never known began to flow through Severus.
* * * * *
"You learned nothing new?" Dumbledore asked, his forehead creasing as he attempted to penetrate Severus' mind.
"He ranted against Potter, and you, and those who dare to be Muggleborn. I fear what little sanity he was reborn with is fading." Severus stared back at Dumbledore, shielding his mind tight. "Do you doubt me, sir?"
Dumbledore stroked one hand along his beard before he turned from Severus, breaking the prolonged eye-contact. "Of course not. You've served me well all these years, Severus. You are a credit to the light."
"Thank you," Severus muttered dryly. "Will there be anything else?"
"Not for the moment."
"Very well. I have a detention to conduct in my laboratory. If I may be excused?"
"Of course, Severus. No need to be so formal, my boy."
Severus pressed his lips into a tight line, bowed stiffly, and exited the room as fast as was seemly. Mind racing, he stalked toward the Great Hall, plans reviewed and discarded as he walked.
The sounds generated by hundreds of students assaulted Severus when he thrust open the doors to the Great Hall, but all that was easy to ignore as his eyes sought out and found the familiar figure sitting at the Gryffindor table. Striding over, Severus tapped Potter on the shoulder and waited until he turned.
"Snape?" Potter's eyes reflected a combination of wariness and anger.
"Professor Snape," Severus murmured, lips twitching upward at the corners as he allowed his gaze to linger on the insolent brat. "You will come with me, Potter."
"What? Why?"
"You have a detention to serve."
"What?! No, I don't! You already punished me, you great ba—"
Severus grabbed hold of Potter's upper arm and pulled him to his feet.
"—t!"
One eyebrow rose toward Severus' hairline as he stared at Potter. "Your detention begins now. Come along."
The Great Hall was the danger, Severus knew. Once he was able to get Potter out from under the watchful eyes of the gathered students and staff, it would be far easier to conduct him to the potions lab. As a commotion arose at the Head Table, Severus turned and bodily hauled Potter from the room, his face betraying no emotion. Through the corridors and down stairs at a fast clip, bypassing loitering students with a scowl fierce enough to ensure they found interest elsewhere.
Severus opened the door to his classroom, dragging Potter behind him, and pressed the boy forward before turning and layering so many charms on the door that he might never recall them all. Even then, he made no sound as he motioned for Potter to follow him. He went directly to his office and, as soon as Potter was clear of it, shut and warded that door, as well.
He pulled down his Pensieve from where it was stored on a high shelf and moved it to the desk, concentrating firmly on the memories he wanted to extract. When Potter opened his mouth to speak, Severus put up a hand, staying his words.
Muttering the spell for a viewable memory, Severus slowly began extracting the shimmering strands, watching as they clung tightly to his wand before dripping free into the basin of the Pensieve. When he'd removed every pertinent memory, he hesitated. Narrowing his gaze on Potter, who was plucking at a loose thread of his denims, the very picture of boredom and adolescent impertinence, Severus set his jaw and extracted three more memories, feeling the weight of the guilt and anger that accompanied their place in his mind slide free as he did so.
These were harder to let go, and they responded to his reluctance by clinging stubbornly to his wand until he shook it rather forcefully.
Severus stood back with a sigh, rubbing one hand down his face as he snapped the fingers of the other hand, drawing Potter's petulant attention once again. Pointing to the memories swirling in the depths of the Pensieve, he said, "You will study these until the information sinks into your sieve-like brain and stays. Do you understand?"
Potter's face flushed an angry red and his eyes snapped with fury before Severus sighed impatiently and made an abrupt gesture with his hand. This time when he pointed to the Pensieve, his gestures were exaggerated to the point of ridiculousness and he hissed through gritted teeth, "This castle has ears, Potter!"
Potter recoiled, blinking in confusion before he hesitantly leaned forward, expression distrustful as he slowly shifted his gaze to the contents of the Pensieve. "Are you going to knock me to the ground this time, too?"
"This time you aren't sneaking about like a thief, idiot. Now, begin."
Potter took a deep breath and pressed his face to the surface of the memories. Severus watched him for several long minutes until he was certain that Potter was fully immersed in the events of the past before he stepped away, wincing slightly at how his knees creaked. Far too much time spent bowing and scraping in recent days had taken its toll on his joints.
* * * * *
"Why?"
Hours had passed while Potter had viewed Severus' memories, hours during which Potter's friends had gathered their courage to ask after his detention and when it might end. Severus had sent them away with a fierce glare, though he didn't expect the strength of it alone to hold them off much longer.
And the last thing he needed was Minerva's interference.
Now, though, Potter looked… broken. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale, and Severus could see the fine trembling in Potter's hands from where he sat. "Why what?"
"Why did you show me… that?"
"You needed to know," Severus said, anger still simmering within him. "Regardless of how this war is to play out, I am done with using children as pawns. Did you never think to question anything, Potter? The Headmaster offers you a sherbet lemon, and you fall over yourself to do his bidding. Why?"
Potter didn't answer him, just shook his head and collapsed onto a stool. "So that's it, then? I have to… die?"
"No!" Severus didn't realise he'd slammed his fists against his desk until he saw Potter jump. "I refuse to allow you to throw your life away. A life your mother died to save."
"You loved her."
Severus didn't reward that with an answer. Potter should have whatever answers he needed from the memories Severus had shared with him.
But Potter couldn't leave it alone. "You risked your life for me. Why?"
"Enough, Potter. Leave it."
"I need to know."
Splaying his hands against the top of his desk as he slowly counted to ten, Severus willed his anger—of which only a miniscule percentage could be laid at the feet of Potter—to fade. "What you need to know is that we are at war. You need to know all the information we have so that your part in this war can be completed soonest. You need to know that, whatever else, your death will further no cause. It would be stupid and pointless."
"Not to Volde—"
"Do not say his name!" Severus released a sharp breath through his teeth. "Lesson the first, Potter. There is a reason those who lived through the first war against the Dark Lord are still terrified of speaking his name. He had a geis placed on his name so that any time it was spoken, he knew. He had bands of trackers capturing wizarding folk for the trespass of speaking his name."
Potter's eyes went wide as saucers behind his spectacles. "And now?"
"Assume the worst and plan accordingly."
Leaning forward, Potter propped his elbows on his knees and said, "What is the plan?"
"First, the dissemination of information. I will tell you everything I know about the current situation and about the Headmaster's plans for you… and for others." Severus narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. "No, first we must teach you Occlumency—"
A hissing sound cut Severus off and for a moment he was certain Potter was speaking Parseltongue. He soon realised, however, that what he was hearing was a standard sound of teenaged disgruntlement.
"We tried that. It didn't work."
Severus leaned forward. "Wrong again, Potter. There was no true attempt at either teaching or learning last year. Your Occlumency lessons were nothing but a ploy."
"What?"
"The Headmaster needed to know how much control the Dark Lord had over you, and the Dark Lord needed proof of my loyalty. Did you never wonder why the Headmaster refused to check on your progress after all but forcing you to learn?"
"He avoided me completely last year. That didn't seem so odd, actually."
"The Occlumency lessons failed because there were no lessons. It was simply a show, all for the benefit of the Dark Lord, through the link you hold to him in your head."
Potter pulled at his fringe, obviously agitated over this news. "But nothing's changed. That link is still there."
"The Dark Lord is far too busy with other matters to concern himself with you at the moment. The world knows he's back, you know of the link… He has no reason to attempt to fool you twice."
"He could be keeping a watch on me, though. And if he is—"
"If he is, he won't be able to penetrate my wards."
Gaping, Potter asked, "Then why didn't you use them last year? And actually teach me Occlumency?"
"Don't forget the ploy was two-fold. We wanted him to watch. To see how much you hate me."
Potter rubbed at his forehead. "And why now? Why do we even need to go through this?"
"The answer is two-fold: the Headmaster and the Dark Lord." When Potter's brow furrowed, Severus explained, "The Headmaster does not believe you ready for the information I will be sharing with you this evening, and I… have found reason to break faith with him. His willingness to use you, to sacrifice you to this madness…" Severus shook his head, making a slashing gesture of finality with one hand. "The Dark Lord would find a terrific punishment for me were he to discover that I've had you alone, with no one's knowledge, and didn't immediately kidnap you to bring you to him."
"You'd be sacked!"
Severus stared hard at Potter. "Do you honestly believe that would be the worst punishment that would befall me?" Waving his hand, he said, "Never mind that. It's for the protection of us both that I propose to teach you Occlumency. Unfortunately, we have limited time in which to practice and no ready excuse of Remedial Potions to fend off those who might require knowledge of your whereabouts."
"Yes, because it'd be so unusual for you to give me detention."
"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, boy."
"Can you just tell me what you want to tell me first? And then teach me Occlumency?"
Plans rearranged themselves into different patterns in Severus' head as he considered Potter's compromise. "Yes, fine. But you will leave your memories here when you go. That is the only way to keep them safe."
"Why can't we just do that? I mean, why even learn Occlumency at all if I can just throw my memories into a Pensieve?"
Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Because, idiot, you are a walking weakness in our defences. You are privy to far too much information, the disclosure of which could expose key elements of the Order's strategy to defeat the Dark Lord. The simple fact that you've viewed my memories would—"
"Wait. If I put my memories in a Pensieve… will I be unable to remember everything we talked about tonight? I mean, after I remove the memories."
"No. Memories make an imprint on your mind. You will still be able to read those. As will the Headmaster or the Dark Lord, but if they try you will detect their presence long before they would be able to read the imprint of your memories."
"How?"
"You'll feel the intrusion." When Potter looked about to question him again, Severus held up a hand. "You'll know. The feeling is utterly unique. Should that happen, should you feel that level of intrusion, simply break eye-contact. In fact, I would like for you to remember that as the first step in learning true Occlumency. Even the best Legilimens requires direct eye-contact to enter your mind. Now, I'm sure you're eager to hear everything that's been kept from you?"
Taking a deep breath, Potter nodded. "I'm ready."
* * * * *
Severus looked toward the calendar on the wall, unable to believe it was nearly the end of term already. Between his Defence classes during the day, Order and Death Eater meetings at night and on weekends, teaching duties, his patrolling shifts, and Potter's 'detentions', the year had positively flown.
And he was no closer now to discovering what Draco Malfoy was up to than he'd been at the beginning of the year.
It made no sense. Severus had thought Draco's only task was to kill Albus, and though he'd made several weak attempts, the boy's mind was obviously elsewhere. There were whispers aplenty, but they were merely that. Whispers.
Whispers among members of the Dark Lord's inner circle that didn't include him. Severus' fingers stilled from where they'd been drumming against the papers stacked on his desk. It was obvious that Narcissa didn't know. And if she didn't, neither would Bellatrix or, by extension, Rodolphus. Which ruled out Rabastan.
A noise made him look up, but the room was empty, the door shut.
"Potter? Are you there?"
The boy continued to sneak about the castle under cover of that damn fool Cloak of his, against all Severus' logical arguments.
After waiting a few moments more, Severus shook the noise off. The castle was full of them, after all. Between the elves, the students, and the familiars that stalked the place, it was amazing that Severus didn't have a nervous twitch.
Standing, he crossed to the Pensieve that stood in the corner. The surface swirled with several of Potter's most recent memories of meetings with the Headmaster. It infuriated Severus, even now, to know that Albus was continuing to keep very important information from him, information that he apparently saw no issue with imparting to a child.
Drawing his wand through the memories in a violent motion, Severus watched as Potter's laughing face floated to the top of the Pensieve. He shook his head. How did the boy continue to embrace happiness in the way he did?
Severus drew back from the Pensieve and sheathed his wand before bringing his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. A headache was forming; even with all the bits of information that he and Potter were freely sharing, the picture wasn't whole.
Pouring himself a glass of Firewhisky, Severus sat behind his desk and stared at the essays that littered it. Tomorrow. He would grade them all tomorrow.
Severus closed his eyes and took a deep sip of the liquor, holding it in his mouth as long as he could before swallowing the fiery stuff. Steam rose through him, and he opened his mouth slightly to allow it to escape. Nearly an hour passed as he sipped at his drink, and when the Firewhisky was finally gone, he stared at the imperfections in the clear glass. Thoughts chased themselves around his head as he rolled the glass between his palms.
A sound broke his musings, and he looked up to see that his office door was cracked open.
Severus frowned. Potter. The boy should know by now how dangerous a game he was playing, spying on Severus. But no one had ever called Potter smart.
Shaking his head, he vowed to put the fear of God into the boy the next time they met.
* * * * *
Severus pressed his fingers to his eyelids, pushing against the headache that pounded behind his eyes. A cold breeze washed over him, and he growled at the intrusion. "Potter. Shut the door."
"You always know it's me. How do you do that?"
"It's easy enough. I merely need to consider who among my acquaintances was raised in a barn and suddenly your name springs to mind." Severus' voice was utterly dry, but the corner of his mouth twitched with answering humour when Potter threw his head back and laughed.
"I can't believe it took me so long to realise you were the Half-Blood Prince from my Potions text," Potter said, shaking his head as he dropped the self-same text onto Severus' desk, scattering the neat stacks of parchment there.
"I can't believe you're taking credit for realising it. Dolt. If I hadn't asked what you were doing with my old Potion's text, you'd still be walking about with your head in the clouds, mooning over the 'brilliant' boy who wrote such witty notes in the margins."
Flushing red, Potter rolled his eyes. "I wasn't mooning over you. And you are brilliant. Or you were. What happened, eh?"
A light stinging hex took care of Potter's cheek, and Severus smiled in satisfaction when Potter yelped and stood, grabbing his arse. "I was forced into indentured servitude in a castle full of hormonal teenagers. If the Christians are right, I'll go straight to Heaven upon my death; I've already served my time in Purgatory." Done with small-talk, Severus checked the wards Potter had applied to the door and added a last of his own device before saying, "Why are you here?"
"I've got it."
"The memory?"
Potter nodded and placed a vial on Severus' desk. "I used the Felix Felicis."
"Has the Headmaster seen this yet?"
"Of course not."
Severus lifted the vial and returned it to Potter. "Bring it to him first, but make sure he allows you to view it with him."
"And then?"
"Detention, of course."
Potter shook his head and slipped the vial into his pocket. "I swear you get way too much satisfaction over the way that word rolls off your tongue."
"I merely spread joy with random acts of kindness."
"Detention is kindness?"
"Of course. If you're in here, you can't be out there causing trouble."
"Git."
"Go, Potter. Show the Headmaster the memory and—" Severus stopped speaking as pain stole his voice. He grimaced and grabbed at his left arm, gritting his teeth against the agony of the Call.
"Are you being Summoned?" Potter asked, worry heavy in his tone.
"Yes. Go to the Headmaster. Show him the memory." Standing, Severus concentrated on the pull of the Call. He was already well into the motion of Disapparating when he realised that while Potter was no longer in the room, the door had never opened.
As the pressure of Apparation squeezed down on him, Severus felt a tug on his elbow.
Potter, you little bastard!
* * * * *
"I know you're angry with me." Potter's voice in his ear was the first thing he heard upon his arrival in the receiving room at Malfoy Manor. "But the memory will keep. This is more important."
"If you're discovered, you'll die. Isn't your link stronger the closer you are to the Dark Lord?"
"What was that, Severus?"
Severus turned smoothly to greet Narcissa as she stepped into the room from a side door rather than the entrance from the hall.
"I was simply thinking aloud. Forgive me."
She tilted her head at him, calculation gleaming in her eyes, but nodded once and turned to lead him to the main dining room where the Dark Lord enjoyed holding court.
"Have you discovered a solution to our problem?" Her voice was a mere murmur, not enough to disturb his smooth motions, but as the words sank into his consciousness, Severus slowed to a halt there in the corridor.
"Our problem?"
"Draco, of course. Do not play the imbecile, Severus. Time is slipping away."
"Perhaps if you would convince your son to trust me, we might make some progress. As it is, he impedes my every effort to aid him in his quest."
Narcissa pressed a hand to her throat, eyes drifting down as she pursed her lips. "I cannot break through to him; especially now that they've threatened my safety. In my own house." The coiled anger in her was apparent in her hissing tones. "When Draco visited earlier, I thought that perhaps the two of you—"
Severus stepped forward, gripping her arm. "Draco was here? When?"
"Today." She frowned at his hand on her arm. "You were unaware that he'd come to visit?"
Releasing Narcissa, Severus allowed his sleeve to fall over his fingers, hiding the way his hand balled into a fist. "Tell me about his visit."
"He seemed relieved. Excited, even. I had assumed that you had assisted him in finding a solution to his task." She searched his face and shook her head. "But you didn't, did you?" Her lips quirked. "That was rather easy for you."
A flash of pain flared through Severus again and he grimaced. "Our Lord grows impatient."
"Of course. Forgive me."
They continued into the dining hall in silence, allowing Severus to examine the information he'd gleaned in their brief conversation. Something about the fact that Draco had visited that morning alarmed him, though it was more instinctual than intellectual. He wasn't the sort to jump at shadows, but he found himself rather more on-guard than usual as he walked into the dining hall.
"Severus. How kind of you to join us."
The handful of lesser-favoured Death Eaters lingering in the hall turned to stare; Severus felt like an insect on display. "My lord."
"Am I?"
Severus lifted one eyebrow, uncertain how to answer that. The Dark Lord appeared to be in one of his fickle moods.
"Am I your lord, Severus?"
"Of course."
"Very good. And since you are so faithful, you will surely be happy to tell me every little detail of your last meeting with Albus' Order?"
Severus inclined his head, his eyes locked on the Dark Lord, watching for any sign of trouble.
"And your detentions with Potter?" The light stress on detentions, the small quirk of the Dark Lord's thin lips as he asked the question, caused the tension building within Severus to peak. He twisted his wrist, grabbing his wand as it fell into his waiting hand.
"What of them?" Severus asked, his voice betraying nothing but calm.
"Do you use them to plot with the boy against me?"
Severus kept his gaze locked on the Dark Lord out of habit. He'd noticed upon entering the room that both Carrows, the Lestranges, Fenrir, and a handful of the most trusted of the Death Eaters were missing. The time could not be better for a strike against the Dark Lord.
Allowing his lips to curve into a smile, Severus asked lightly, "Has someone been telling tales out of school? Young Malfoy, perhaps?"
"You do not deny it?"
"Such a thing is ludicrous, my Lord."
"His memories of your Pensieve were decidedly less so." The soft words ended on a hiss of displeasure. "Killing you will pain me, Severus."
"Would that I could say the same." Severus flourished his wand, intending to cast a shielding spell when a bolt of pain sliced through his arm from his Mark, distracting him.
He could only watch as the Dark Lord's lips formed the words to the Killing Curse. Time seemed to slow then, and as the vile green of the spell built on the tip of the Dark Lord's wand, Potter threw off his Cloak and leapt in front of Severus, shielding him with the boy's very body.
The spell struck true, the green light limning Potter for an instant before blinking out.
The speed with which Potter fell was shocking; Severus stared in horror, unable to move quickly enough to lessen his body's impact with the floor. Not that it mattered now, Severus realised.
Harry Potter was dead.
He saw a motion out of the corner of his eye and his wand came up, the words to the killing curse rising within him before he could think to form them. The bolt of magic left his wand even as he saw yet another swirl of green erupt from the tip of the Dark Lord's. He threw himself to the side, Potter's Invisibility Cloak tangling in his legs and bringing him down.
It was one of the most singularly graceless moments of his life, but Severus couldn't be bothered to care. His aim had been true. Voldemort's bastardized form was all but a corpse, though it was for naught.
Harry Potter was dead.
Severus slowly sank to his knees beside Potter's body, mind whirling as the words of the prophecy whispered through him. Neither can live while the other survives.
He raised a shaking hand to Potter's blankly staring eyes and pressed the lids closed. His own fell of their own accord. He'd failed.
"Severus!" The urgency in Narcissa's tone snapped him back to attention, and he looked up. Stupid of him to have forgotten the Death Eaters who'd been gathered in the room.
Severus stood to his full height, pushing the agony of failure from his mind as he confronted those angry faces beginning to surround him.
"Accio Voldemort's wand," Severus said, his voice nearly bored as the length of wood flew to him.
"Do you truly believe that you can best me?" Severus twirled the wand between his fingers pointedly. The one thing Voldemort's followers had in common was cowardice; these few had it in vast supply. Not a wand was raised against Severus when he knelt and grabbed Potter. Hauling the boy's body into his arms, he crossed the room to where the mewling form of Voldemort lay on the carpet.
With the last of his energy, Severus knelt, cradling Potter's body as he dropped his other hand to the bundle inside Voldemort's robes. Severus looked to Narcissa, seeing what appeared to be relief in her gaze. She nodded at him, just once, as he activated the Portkey that would bring him to the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.
* * * * *
"Severus, thank God—Severus? Is that…?" Albus turned away from the portraits of previous Headmasters, what little colour remained in his aged face draining away as he saw Potter's limp form in Severus' arms.
"Potter is dead," Severus said, his voice stripped of emotion. He kicked the bundle of robes, as well as what they contained, toward Albus. "Voldemort has been defeated… again."
"Harry did this?" Albus asked quietly, kneeling to pull back the robes and stare into the inhuman face of his enemy.
Severus ground his teeth against one another. Of course that would be Albus' only concern. Was it Potter who dealt the killing blow? "No," he said flatly. "Against everything you taught him, Potter was not a murderer. He took the Killing Curse meant for me. Took it so that I might live."
"Albus!" The door opened and Minerva stumbled into the room, a line of blood drawn on her cheek. "The Death Eaters have entered the castle!"
"So it begins," the Headmaster said, the fingers of one hand pressing against his forehead as he looked from Potter to the Dark Lord and back again. Severus was satisfied to see pain in the old man's eyes when he looked up. "Severus, for all that I've asked of you…" He shook his head. "Will you stand by me now?"
"How dare you?" Severus asked, fury overwhelming him. "Everything I've done, and still you doubt me? The Dark Lord delivered to your very feet and—"
"We don't have time for this!" Minerva yelled, her slightly-shrill voice cutting through the room. "Set aside your petty grievances for the moment. The children are in danger!"
Severus nodded once, sharply, and gripped his wand as he raced down the stairwell ahead of Minerva and the Headmaster. Screams and blasts sounded from the front of the castle.
"Once more, into the breach," Severus muttered to himself.
* * * * *
Aurors and Death Eaters filled the Headmaster's office. Severus stood wearily beside Kingsley Shacklebolt who sat at the Headmaster's desk, placing names to the Death Eaters who'd been captured by Hogwarts staff, students, and the slightly-tardy Ministry.
When the last Death Eater had been accounted for—they'd gone over the living first so that the Aurors might take them back to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for processing—Severus turned his mind to the events that had preceded the awful battle in the school.
Thirteen dead, nearly double that if he counted the Death Eaters who'd lost their lives, and all for naught. The Dark Lord had already been defeated. Harry Potter was already dead. What more had there been to fight over?
Shaking the hand Kingsley offered him, Severus walked carefully to the couch where they'd placed Potter's body. No one knew yet what to do with it.
Severus gently lifted Potter's upper half and sat, settling his head into his lap.
"Oh, Severus." He looked up to see Minerva staring sadly down at him. He was too exhausted to even acknowledge relief at her survival, though he knew she'd be in the Infirmary before the evening was out, if Poppy had her way. "Is he really…?" She shook her head, lips pressing together tightly as if unable to give voice to the thought.
Severus opened his mouth to respond. Then promptly shut it again to contain the unmanly shout that rose up his throat when the corpse in his lap turned its head into his stomach.
A whimper of pain rose from Potter, the sound so shocking that Severus had the fleeting thought that Potter had planned this prank perfectly.
"Hurts," Potter whispered.
Finding his tongue, Severus said, his voice shaking only slightly, "Yes, well, it would appear that being mostly dead will do that to a body."
* * * * *
Severus narrowed his eyes as the doors to the Infirmary opened and the Headmaster entered. Walking between the crowded rows of beds, Albus stopped several times to whisper words of encouragement on speedy recoveries.
Finally reaching Potter's bed, the Headmaster beamed. "Ah, Harry! So good to see you looking well, dear boy. You gave us quite a scare."
Severus gently pushed against Poppy's hands. "Don't fuss over me," he said quietly. "There are others who need your assistance more than I." He waited until she'd bustled off to the next patient before walking quietly toward Potter's bed.
Potter had been speaking too quietly for Severus to hear; when he drew nearer the bed, he was able to make out, "I just don't understand why it didn't work."
"You sacrificed yourself, Harry. The greatest love one can show is to give their life for another. That kind of love is rewarded. You survived because you were willing to give your life for Severus."
"What utter rubbish," Severus said, finally making himself known to the Headmaster. "If that were the case, Lily would still be alive. As would countless others who've placed themselves between a loved-one and death." Severus inclined his head toward Potter. "Or a colleague."
Albus pursed his lips, but nodded to acknowledge the truth of Severus' statement. "While I maintain that Harry's willingness to give his life for yours played a part in his survival of the Killing Curse, there is one alternate theory."
"And that is?"
"The wands. Harry's wand is the twin to this one." Albus touched the tip of a finger to the wand protruding from the pocket of Severus' robes. "You will recall the conversation we had two years ago about Priori Incantatem? When your wand joined with Lord Voldemort's and you saw the shades of those he'd killed?"
Severus' eyes snapped to Potter. He hadn't been aware of such, though it was obviously not news to Potter.
"It is possible that his wand would be unable to truly kill you. Kill the part of him that was lodged within you? Certainly—"
"So my Horcrux is gone?"
The Headmaster looked slightly taken aback that Potter was unsurprised at the revelation of the Horcrux he carried. "You… knew?"
Severus met Potter's gaze. "I told him."
A soft sigh filled the air. "I had hoped to avoid placing such a heavy burden on your young shoulders, but I suppose it was wrong of me."
"Oh, you think?" Potter asked, sarcasm loaded onto the words. "There are a lot of things you've withheld from me. Things that would have been quite nice to know long before not knowing them placed me and my friends in danger. Before not knowing them got Sirius killed."
"Not to mention," Severus said quietly, "that you were perfectly comfortable placing the burden of the entire war on his shoulders. Not bad enough that you used Potter as your puppet to achieve your ends with the Order and the Ministry, but you allowed other children to wallow in agony while you did."
"Wait, what?" Potter's gaze swung between Severus and the Headmaster. "What are you talking about?"
"It didn't occur to me until long after the battle was over, but… you weren't surprised when the Death Eaters entered the castle tonight. You knew, in fact, that they would. You've known what Draco's task was this entire year, haven't you?"
"Severus…"
Bitter with anger, Severus stepped forward, unable to feel even the slightest bit of victory when Albus took a step backward. "You allowed a boy—a boy—to betray his friends, his teachers, all because you couldn't be arsed to offer him the hand of friendship. One word of encouragement from you, the slightest hint that you'd aid him and his family, and this entire evening could have been avoided."
"Er, Snape, not that I'm disagreeing with you or anything, but Draco was the one who ratted you out to Voldemort today. I mean—"
Severus turned to stare at Potter. "What would you have done? Voldemort threatened his mother, and he had no assurance that there was anything for him here. Not one person approached him and offered him an alternative."
Cheeks pinkening, Potter had the grace to look away.
"Like another boy, hmm, Severus?"
"This has nothing to do with me, Albus. It's about your willingness to use the students who should be safest under your care to do your dirty work. And it ends now. You have Voldemort. You have found and destroyed two of his Horcruxes—"
"Three," Potter said, tapping his forehead.
Severus nodded. "Three of his Horcruxes, then. Find and destroy the remainder, throw what's left of him through the Veil. Leave the children out of it. They never should have played a role in this to begin with."
There was a troubled look in Albus' eye, but he nodded. "I will find the missing Horcruxes. I know it is too late, but I am so sorry for—"
"Do not. Do not apologise. If you feel you owe me anything, then let me go. Release me from my Vow."
Albus raised a hand toward Severus, almost beseeching, then dropped it again, defeated. "You are free, Severus."
When the Headmaster turned to walk away, Potter let out a small sound of distress.
"What?"
"Err, the memory! I still have it… somewhere…" Getting off the bed, Potter walked stiffly to the chair that held his robes in a neatly-folded pile. He reached a hand into his pocket and withdrew the vial that he'd shown Severus what felt like weeks earlier, but could only have been mere hours. "Headmaster!"
Albus turned back, hope in his eyes as he looked from Potter to Severus and back again. "Yes, my boy?"
"I have… that thing you asked me to get." Holding up the vial, Potter shook it to show the swirl of silver memory in it.
Eyeing the vial with something like greed, Albus reached for it, then stopped and looked at Severus. Shame flashed across his watery blue gaze for a moment before he turned to Potter and shook his head.
"Severus is right. I should never have asked such a thing of you, Harry. I think I will take this opportunity to begin anew."
When Albus smiled and turned to leave, Potter squawked, "What? Oh, no. Bugger that. You can 'begin anew' tomorrow. I worked too bloody hard to get this, wasted a really fabulous potion on it. So take it!" Potter thrust his bottom lip out stubbornly and slapped the vial into the palm of Albus' hand.
Severus had to turn away. The look of abject shock on Albus' face would have caused him to laugh if he hadn't.
* * * * *
A knock at his door caused Severus to look up from his packing. "Potter. I should have known I wouldn't be rid of you so easily. What do you want?"
"I'm here for my detention."
"Is this some new level of teenaged angst I've yet to encounter? They warned us to look for signs of self-harm, but self-assigned detention?"
Potter grinned. "I figured I'd save you trouble. Besides, I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye, could I?"
"You could have, but I suppose my luck hasn't changed."
"Snape?"
"Hmm?"
Running one hand through his hair nervously, Potter said, "Will I…. I mean, I will…. Are you…?"
"Spit it out, Potter!"
"Will I see you again?"
"The wizarding community is a small one, so most likely."
"You're not going to lock yourself away in some dark and draughty house in Wales, then?"
Severus snorted. "Not bloody likely."
"What will you do?"
"Most likely open a shop somewhere. Or open a private laboratory to train students post-NEWTs in more advanced applications for potions and defence. I may even apply to the Auror corps as an instructor."
"Really? You'd be happy teaching? I thought—"
"I'd be happy teaching students who have the desire to learn. And the skill. There is a difference between teaching on my terms and on Hogwarts'."
Potter nodded slowly. "Well, I suppose this is goodbye, then." Thrusting his hand forward, Potter lifted his chin.
Severus rolled his eyes and shook Potter's hand perfunctorily. "Leave it to you to fight so hard to be able to enter the Auror corps but not follow through."
"What?"
"Unless you've decided to do something better with your life?"
"I don't understand what you—"
"God save me from imbeciles. I'm trying to tell you, Potter, that this is most definitely not goodbye. Now, stop moping and go live your life. I'm not the only one suddenly free to do so, you know."
Potter's smile started small, but grew to a nearly-blinding thing. "Yes, sir. I'll do that." When he turned toward the door, Severus went back to his packing.