You Promised It Would Be Forever - Edit

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 11 ~ Discovering the Truth

Severus returned to Hogwarts with the pensieve, still feeling rattled by Hermione's reaction to learning the loss of their son was intentional. There was no explosion, no outpouring of emotion, though she did say she would give up her life in order to get revenge. Hopefully no one but the perpetrators of the crime would be dying when the time came.

Severus took the pensieve out of his robes pocket, then removed his deatheater garb and put it away. He picked up the pensieve and dressed in his shirt and trousers, the dark wizard walked into his study then over to his desk in the corner. The Potions Master sat down and placed the pensieve on the desk before him. Focusing, he stared down into it until he was pulled in, tumbling end over end until he dropped neatly to his feet on a busy sidewalk in downtown Hogsmeade.

Severus started as a chubby witch loaded down with packages passed right through him. Then he looked around until he saw Hermione staring up at a window. He strode over to her and saw she was looking at maternity clothing. He followed her into the store and watched carefully as she shopped, checking prices and fabrics as she did so. She brought several blouses and pants, charging them to his account and left the store. Severus saw nothing out of the ordinary. He followed her to her next destination, which was a shoe store.

He watched as she looked longingly at a pair of three-inch red pumps. Her eyes got a little heated and Severus knew the witch was thinking about parading around in those heels naked in front of him. If she had, it would have been a very short parade. Severus had loved the way Hermione looked in heels and would have wasted no time getting her on her back and those heels in the air. Those had been happy times for them. He looked around to see if possibly anyone was following his wife, but saw no one. A clerk came and Hermione sat down. Severus sat down next to her watching as the clerk knelt in front of her and removed her shoes.

The young wizard was quite handsome, and quite flirtatious, which was why he worked in a witch's shoe store. He exclaimed over her tiny feet and gave her a little foot massage which made Hermione's eyes almost roll up in her head. Severus's nostrils flared at this display rather jealously. This was the Hermione who still loved him. A wizard was flirting with her and she was enjoying it. It was harmless…the wizard was only after a sale, but if Severus had witnessed this, the wizard would have gotten a cracked head, and Hermione would have been walking gap-legged for a week. Still, he watched the wizard. Hermione's feet had to be slightly damp and the Mordres potion could be absorbed through them.

The clerk left and returned with several pairs of comfortable, sensible shoes and the red pumps. He wolf whistled at Hermione's feet when he put them on her and she stood up, making the witch blush and Severus' nostrils flare again. The wizard was unconscionable. Finally Hermione selected two pair of the comfortable shoes and passed on the pumps. She was pregnant, and though she loved the shoes, it would be a waste of galleons at this time. The wizard looked a bit disappointed that he hadn't made a large sale with the witch, and Severus smirked with satisfaction at his discomfiture. But the wizard had done nothing out of the ordinary. Hermione didn't get poisoned here.

Hermione paid for her purchase, and left the store. Severus followed her closely as she walked the sidewalk, watching to see if anyone bumped into her or touched her in any manner…but again he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Hermione walked into the Three Broomsticks. Severus went immediately on point. This was where the poison could have been slipped into her food. Rosmerta seated her, and Hermione ordered a ham sandwich with grape jelly and tomatoes. The innkeeper looked at her oddly for a moment and Hermione patted her lower belly, then realization hit the blonde proprietor and she grinned from ear to ear. The witch congratulated Hermione and said she would make her sandwich personally. Severus could not follow Rosmerta into the kitchen. Once the doors opened anything behind them would be a blank because Hermione did not go in there. The kitchen was not part of her memory.

But Rosmerta was very unlikely to have poisoned Hermione. If the innkeeper made the sandwich herself then it would have been fine. The pumpkin juice was another story, but it was more than likely Rosmerta fixed the drink as well. Severus sat down and watched his wife bite down into the sandwich, a look of bliss crossing her face as the flavors mixed. He studied that look…it was very similar to the one she wore when he would first enter her. The Potions Master felt a throb both in his trousers and in his chest. He hadn't counted on the emotions his visit in the pensieve would arouse in him. As he looked at his ex-wife, he felt an extreme sense of loss. He had to shake it off. He had to be observant.

Hermione finished her lunch, paid her bill, picked up her packages and left the inn. By the look on her face, she was tired now and ready to go home. Severus followed her to the apparation point, which was very busy and had two close lines of people waiting to use it. Hermione got in line and waited as wizards and witches moved into the point and apparated. A tall, unfamiliar blonde woman appeared in the line next to her. The woman brought her hand to her mouth and sneezed, right on Hermione, who looked at her frowning slightly. The woman said she was sorry, and the line moved forward.

Severus scowled, halted the pensieve and rewound it. He watched the sneeze again, and his face grew black. He walked closer and slowed the pensieve down. As the woman brought her hand to her face, she flattened her palm. Severus could see a small amount of fine powder in it. When the woman sneezed, the powder flew into Hermione's face. She had inhaled it. As the woman lowered her hand, Severus vocally snarled with rage as he looked at it. The nails were painted black and had small silver skulls on each.

Bellatrix LeStrange. Bellatrix had poisoned his wife and killed his child. She had to be given the order to do so by the Dark Lord himself. It meant death to attack another deatheater's family without Voldemort's permission.

Severus withdrew from the pensieve, his dark eyes full of death. Bellatrix and Voldemort had indeed killed his baby. Bellatrix and Voldemort would pay. They would pay.

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Argus Filch was hovering around the dungeon corridor when Severus exited it, looking murderous. Filch knew automatically that the Potions Master had found out who killed his boy. Terrible as Severus looked, Argus still stopped him. The wizard looked at the old caretaker as if he couldn't see who he was at first…and then he focused. His expression was murderous.

"Did you find out, Professor? Did you find out who murdered our boy?" Argus asked, unaware that he had used the term "our boy" in his excitement.

"Voldemort," Severus hissed. Then he strode off without another word.

Argus quickly pulled out the Track-a-Port and captured Severus' signature as he walked away. The button turned blue just as Fred said it would. The Potions Master was now a port key destination. Filch could find him anywhere.

The caretaker's face turned uglier than it already was as he absorbed what the dark wizard had said. So the Dark Lord was behind the death of that innocent child. The Filch had suspected it all along. He knew Severus was mixed up with the despot, doing some work for Albus. Filch had gleaned some bits of information about the Dark Lord, by sneaking around and listening in on conversations. He knew for example that he was kept alive by a potion made out of venom from his pet king cobra. To Filch, that made the wizard more animal than man.

"That snake. That filthy snake. Killing that poor boy in the womb. He's got to pay," the caretaker said, walking crookedly toward his rooms.

His legs had been hurting him for a while now. Poppy said it was bone degeneration. She treated him as much as she could, but Filch was old and even magic couldn't do much when nature was in force. His body was slowly disintegrating, and he pushed himself too hard around the castle. When Albus suggested retirement, Filch refused, saying he wouldn't know what to do with himself, and Hogwarts was all that was keeping him alive. So the Headmaster relented. He hired a young helper for Filch, but the grouchy caretaker had driven him off by the end of the week, browbeating him and calling him names, finally striking him with stick across the back for faulty plantings.

The truth was the young wizard was quite good. Too good. Filch was territorial. He didn't want the competition.

"He's trying to move me out," Filch grumbled about Albus when he first brought the boy to him.

The kid never had a chance.

Filch entered his room, still cursing Voldemort. He locked the door securely, then went to his cupboard and took out the hollow point bullets and the plastic clay.

"That wizard's a filthy snake. I know what protects from snakes," Filch muttered as he walked over to his cooler and took out a small box he had delivered from America. It had to be kept cold. He sat the box down and opened it, looking at the small bottles of clear liquid inside.

He took out a bottle, set it on the table, and returned the box to the cooler. He opened a drawer and took out a small eyedropper and set it on the table, then dumped out the hollow points and stood them up on their ends in a neat line. He picked up the jar of moldable plastic and squinted as he read the directions. It was a quick drying substance. He would have to work fast. He only had to roll it between his palms to make it malleable.

The caretaker eyed the bullets and figured out about how much plastic he would need to seal them. He would make a little indentation on the top, so the point of the bullet was still concave. It would still do great damage, even capped.

Filch opened the bottle of liquid, dipped the dropper in and carefully filled each cavity of each bullet. He had to get another bottle because they were very small. When finished, he put the unused liquid back in the cooler, then returned to the table, opened the jar of plastic and hurriedly warmed it between his hands. He carefully covered the tip of each bullet with a thin sheet of the plastic, tapping it down with his gnarled fingertip. There. He'd done it.

The caretaker walked over to another drawer and took out a locked metal box. He fished in his pocket and took out a huge key ring full of keys. He went through them quickly, located the key he needed and opened the box. His rheumy eyes narrowed appreciatively as he removed the gun.

It was a nine-millimeter Glock 17 with fixed sights. His baby. Filch called it "The Stinger"

Also in the box was a manual, two magazines, a magazine loader, a plastic cleaning rod, a nylon bore brush, and a cable lock with two keys. Filch lovingly set the gun down, picked up a magazine and filled it with ten rounds. He did the same to the other. He got up and placed the magazines in the cooler. Then he took out the cleaning rod and bore brush, and set about getting the gun in tiptop condition for use.

"I might not be able to cast a spell, but I can shoot the topknot off a troll at a hundred paces. There's more than one way to kill a baby-killing snake of a wizard," he muttered to himself. "I'm going to make sure Snape has some other options than magic."

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Severus entered the Headmaster's office. Albus looked up at him, and with one glance knew that the Potions Master had discovered his child's murderer.

"It was Bellatrix and Voldemort," the Potions Master hissed.

"With the Dark Lord's permission Bella poisoned Hermione in Hogsmeade as she stood in line waiting to apparate home after shopping. Bella pretended to sneeze and blew the powder in Hermione's face, then walked away. She was glamoured, but I recognized the bitch's fingernails. Neither of them can live another day, Headmaster," he snarled.

Severus was trembling with hatred. Death was all he could see. Albus' eyes were blazing with their own dark fire, but his voice was deceptively calm.

"Yes, Severus. Jacob must be avenged…but we must wait until morning. Night is when most of the deatheaters are at his stronghold. Early in the day there won't be that many. We need the element of surprise. Have you thought of how you wish to bring about his demise? A spell perhaps?" the Headmaster asked Severus.

The Potions Master's eyes glinted.

"No. Decapitation," he said darkly. "I want to cleave his fucking head from his body with my own hands. Then I want to gut Bella."

Albus looked at the wizard. Normally he abhorred such blatant violence, but in this case…he'd make an exception.

"If I can get close enough to hold Voldemort, Severus, I can cast a nullification spell that will temporarily drain his powers, making him vulnerable. You will have ten seconds to accomplish the deed, but will have to cut around me," the old wizard said, his blue eyes glittering with the bloodlust as well.

"You'll have to duck, Headmaster," Severus replied, a sinister look on his face. "Ten seconds is more than enough. It will only take one swing."

Albus nodded.

"I have a plan to get me into the stronghold and close enough to him. We can use his greed against him…"

Severus leaned forward.

"Tell me the plan, Headmaster," he said with a growl.

Albus told him. Severus nodded.

"We'll only have one chance to get this right, Severus," Albus said, his blue eye narrowed behind his spectacles.

"One chance is all I'll need, Albus. Just one chance to avenge my son," the Potions Master replied in a deadly voice.

Albus looked at him.

"Are you going to tell Hermione?" he asked the Potions Master.

Severus shook his head.

"No. I don't trust her to last the night with the knowledge. She might go after them herself. It's better that we do the deed and leave her out of it, Headmaster. I will not go to the stronghold tonight. She will think I am still studying the pensieve," Severus said.

Albus nodded.

"Still, she may be angry she didn't have a chance to wreak her own revenge," the Headmaster said.

Severus looked at him solemnly.

"She will just have to be satisfied that Voldemort and Bellatrix paid for their crimes," he responded.

Yes, his ex-wife would be livid, but she'd recover.

It was better than her getting killed.

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Argus Filch was lurking around the dungeon corridors again when Severus returned. The Potions Master wasn't using the floo because he had the urge to walk. He had too much pent-up anger to expend. He saw the bent caretaker standing in the dungeon hall and stopped.

"Professor, I want to help you take revenge for Jacob," Argus said sincerely, his twisted face even more twisted by the strong emotion he felt.

Severus studied the man. He was grateful he wanted to help him, but he was a squib. He could do nothing against the Dark Lord.

"Argus, I appreciate your offer, but Albus and I have a plan. It will be over tomorrow morning. Jacob will be avenged," he said to the squib.

"There's more than one way to kill a wizard, Professor," Filch said, trying to get Severus to accept his help.

"We have it covered, Argus. We don't need your assistance. I know you care about what happened to my son, and I greatly appreciate it…but you are a squib, Argus, and a squib cannot face magic. You would be a hindrance. I'm sorry," Severus said kindly but firmly. The wizard then walked around him and headed for his rooms.

Filch squinted after him.

"A squib eh? A hindrance? We'll see about that tomorrow morning, Professor," he said, rubbing his pocket and feeling the Track-a-Port's shape. "I'd follow you to Hell itself to avenge that boy."

Argus returned to his room, poured himself a glass of port and sat down at his small table. A parchment and quill lay there. Filch downed the port and looked at the glass, smacking his lips.

"I think I'll treat myself to another one of those in a minute," he said to himself.

He set the glass aside, then pulled the parchment close to him and picked up the quill. He stared at the parchment a moment…then began to write.

The Last Will and Testament of Argus Odysseus Filch…

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A/N: Man, it's on now. Hermione is going to be pissed Severus didn't tell her, but he's probably right not too. She's acting strange. So tomorrow is the big day of vengeance. Decapitation? Awesome. I really hope things go as planned. Please review.