Daunted Death

AN:If this is terrible I'll rewrite it.

How many hours passed as Severus Snape sat and stared at the fire? Some time ago the boy had left him to run through plot after plot, but all of them ended the same way—not finding the Gyltock with enough time to get Lily out. Wards around the Riddle House would be disturbed the second they entered, and it would take seconds for the Dark Lord to arrive and even less time to kill them all.

Except he wouldn’t. He’d save them and rip apart their sanity bit by bit. Teacher, spy, death eater, he couldn’t allow these children to be in such danger. They of course objected, Potter spouting about his mother and his vision that started it, conveniently forgetting that Snape would have known of Lily’s survival a couple days after anyway.

“What about house elves?” asked Ron.

“What about them?” Snape snapped, perhaps more aggressive because it was the particularly unintelligent Weasley who had spoken.

“What if they search the House first and find it,” Ron elaborated.

Snape’s quarters, where they all stood standoffishly against one another, fell silent.

“Their magic couldn’t get the Gyltock, but it could detect it if they knew what to look for,” Hermione said slowly, eyes oddly spaced out on the short carpet, “Then it would need to be extracted. How long?”

With a frown, Snape crossed his arms and walked around the couch towards her, “Anywhere from five to ten minutes. It depends entirely on the warding.”

“And you would have to get it because none of us know that kind of magic.”

Which left the children to fend off the Dark Lord and death eaters while he worked on the stone. With a disappointed sigh, Severus turned away. It wasn’t the soul bond and it wasn’t Lily that was making this difficult; it all the damn wards that surrounded everything. They could be taken down one layer at a time, but they’d never get all the way through. Some were meant to keep things in and others meant to keep things out.

Snape stopped walking. His heels clicked together.

“It’s the wards,” he mumbled, slowly turning back to face the children, “We can only take them down one at a time; they can only go up one at a time.”

“Why,” Harry started slowly, “does that matter?”

When Snape didn’t answer, still lost in thought, Harry continued, “You can’t do both the House wards and the Gyltock wards.”

Snape blinked several times. He swallowed and gritted his teeth, decided. He stood, his back straight and determined. They expected him to give some revelation, but instead he barked out an order.

“Granger, you will stay here.”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed.

“No, she comes with,” Potter spouted indigently.

“She is muggleborn,” Snape said, his voice raised over them, “Potter, if you are caught, they would make a spectacle out of killing you. Weasley, they’d want you to join them and then just kill you when you reused, but you, Miss Granger, are muggleborn. You are not capable of imagining the horrors that would await. You stay here.”

Hermione continued to argue, but, with a shared look, Harry and Ron rescinded their arguments, and she was left to halfheartedly protest.

“So,” Potter started, slightly deflated now, “It’ll only be the three of us, presuming Ron and I can learn stuff about wards properly and in time.”

“No, Potter, there is one person who might yet help us.”

~

Head down, hair tied back, Severus hoped the large black hood that fell over his face would be enough to conceal his identity. It wouldn’t do to be spotted here of all places.

From what he understood, it was an abandoned muggle train tunnel. People littered the ground him. He stepped beside, between, and behind them with determined footsteps. The stench upon the pale air of unwashed bodies and excrement singed his nostrils all the way up and down to his throat. People living like animals.

Up ahead was a fire. Severus made it his targeted destination. After several more mouthfuls of foul air, he approached. There were two men and four women huddled on the ground around the warm flame. One man had his back to Snape as he spoke passionately to the others. Snape came up short behind him.

“Lupin.”

Remus Lupin blinked several times, immediately recognizing the distinct voice. He turned his head and looked up at the other man, his mouth moving as if to say, “Severus?” but he caught himself, and instead said, “My friend, I was starting to think you would not make it through your journey. Come,” Lupin stood and placed a hand between Snape’s shoulder blades and gestured him forward, “Let us find you a place to sleep. You are certainly exhausted.”

Snape walked with him, now both of them avoiding the bodies sitting or lying on the ground.

“What is wrong?” asked Lupin softly, urgently.

“This isn’t about the Order,” replied Snape even softer, “I need your help.”

~

“Severus….” Lupin said, lost for words.

His eyebrows were so high, they disappeared behind his shaggy brown bangs, and his mouth moved, unable to find words that would not send Snape further into insanity.

“Lupin, I am telling you the absolute truth,” Snape said calmly, his voice quiet.

He had grabbed Lupin once they came out of the tunnel and headed out under some trees, and apparated them away to a hilly country side Remus was curious how Snape knew about. The wind was now gentle, and the stars were unusually bright.

Snape pinched the bridge of his bulbous nose, and continued, “Potter saw her through the Dark Lord, and I know you are aware those are not just dreams.”

“Yes, but I’m also aware that Voldemort is very good at manipulating the mind.”

“No,” Snape continued, turning away and watching the dark grass smooth over in the breeze, “I have seen her, heard her; I have held her in my arms. I have questioned her with things only Lily would know. It is her.”

“Then why have you not gone to Dumbledore?” asked Lupin, with the air of someone trying to bring reason back into the conversation.

“Because Dumbledore would leave her there.”

Lupin made to argue at once, but Snape cut him off with a wave of his hand, “Yes, I know, Dumbledore is a great man, but he is set in this war. He is not going to risk anything if there is a chance it jeopardizes defeating the Dark Lord—even if that thing is Lily, maybe especially since she’s an easy way to get to Potter.”

“Alright, look, say that I believe you, and she is alive, and you and I go to save her, how do you propose we do that?”

“We can pick apart the Dark Lord’s wards and get us through to the Riddle house after the house elves find the Gyltock. I can then go and disarm the magic that holds it, and Lily and it are free to escape with Potter and Weasley. You stay out where I have taken down the wards around the house and put new ones up. We’ll only have a few minutes at most before he shows up, but in that time you can set up a couple in particular that will keep him out for a few more minutes. Hopefully then there will have been time to free the Gyltock and get Lily to safety.”

Lupin closed his eyes and put his hands up as if to stop the flood of lunacy.

“You are planning on letting Harry and Ron go—to almost certain death—you’re allowing this?”

Snape said softly, still not turning back to face him, “I do not know how to convince you, but I am certain I cannot do this without you…. She’s weak, Lupin. When I first saw her, I could count every bone. Her hair was falling out in clumps, and the gouges in her wrists and ankles were indescribably gruesome. They’ve starved her, left her in isolation; they’ve raped her. I cannot allow this to continue.”

“Severus,” Lupin said, stepping closer to the other man’s back, “I know that you cared for her when we were in school. You were the only Slytherin-Gryffindor set who studied together. I am delighted to hear that she meant—means—so much to you, but she is dead. I was at the funeral. It was one of the most painful days of my life, but she is gone. The grave in Godric’s Hollow holds her body.”

“The grave holds someone force-fed Polyjuice potion,” Snape countered, then he turned around, a fire burning behind his eyes Lupin did not think he had seen before, “If the Dark Lord ordered me to take you in so he could kill you as proof of my loyalties, would you willingly come with me and die?”

Standing up straighter, Lupin’s eyes widened.

“Would you?”

Lupin stammered and finally said, “Yes, I would, and I would put on whatever show necessary to be convincing.”

“You are a reject of society, Lupin. You had two friends in school who knew, and after school I know you were closer with Lily than Potter and Black. I know she cared for you even with your… affliction. She comforted you, defended you, and treated you no differently than before she found out you were a dog. Do you not owe her this? If you would die knowingly and willingly for my cover, then is it not worth the risk for you to be there for her? If there is even the slightest chance that what I am telling you is truth, do you not owe her?”

~

Tonight.

Snape had planned as much as possible. If he continued, he’d drive himself mad. Tomorrow night, the Dark Lord would expect him to appear for his allowed time with Lily. Hopefully he would be expecting an attempted prison break the least the day before Snape was allowed to see her. What was waiting one more day if it meant avoiding unimaginable punishment?

He held back bile in his throat.

Every dangerous moment he had encountered was inconsequential. Pain was easy. Death was inevitable. Calmness always comes with certainty.

Nothing was certain tonight.

Everything was in the air. Lily’s life, Lily’s freedom depended on his actions tonight, his cleverness, his quickness. Harry Potter’s life, Ron Weasley’s and Remus Lupin’s lives would teeter on the edge with hers. If one of them died and Lily survived, it would be his fault. She would blame him. He hoped he wouldn’t give her anymore cause to hate him. The selfish part of him he was always disgusted at wished one more time he could be with her, once more he could hold her, but such sentimentality would only get people killed.

He dripped silver wax onto the parchment and pressed a metal stick into it, leaving a large indented S in the silver. A letter was the best he could do. His tears had dried up hours ago. With the parchment sealed, the past was done. All that mattered now was succeeding tonight.

The door to his office opened and Potter, Weasley, and Granger walked in, or so he assumed, given the stumbling, invisible scuffling that shuffled into his room and shut the door behind it. Potter ripped the cloak off them. His face was already pink in the cheeks but pale everywhere else. Weasley was just as white.

“Professor,” Potter said, “We think we have it all down, everything you wanted us to learn. Hermione was on us about it until she decided we were flawless. I spoke to Dobby, and he and Winky and an elf name Guma know everything we need them to do and are ready.”

“Guma?” Snape said, coming alarm edged in his voice.

“She’s an elf who thinks Dobby is smart. She requested freedom and pay from Dumbledore as well, and he gave it to her. Her loyalties are more to Dobby than anyone. Winky is coming because I convinced her that if Mr. Crouch were alive, he would want her to take every opportunity to stop the bad guys that killed him.”

“It’s like she suddenly has a purpose,” Weasley mumbled, “It’s weird.”

“Call them,” Snape ordered dismissively.

Potter called them by name one by one, and the elves appeared. The cursed elf, Dobby, looked riddled with excitement.

Snape turned his dark gaze on the small creatures and asked in a dark tone, “You know what you are to do?”

“Yes, Professor, Sir, Dobby has memorized the house plans you gave us. So has Winky and Guma. We knows, Sir, where to start and to come get Professors and others when the cold touches Dobby, Winky, and Guma.”

“And who will you drop off where?” quizzed Snape.

Dobby articulated the answer flawlessly. Snape stood and circled around the couch, but Potter caught something the elf had said.

“Professors?” he said, “As in more than one?”

“The Order is here most days, and today Kingsley Shacklebolt suddenly had a crippling stomach sickness, and a substitute had to be put in place.”

Potter and Granger were both frowning at him, but Snape was saved answering when his door opened again and a scraggly man walked in. His eyes went wide, and he froze looking at the children.

“Severus,” Lupin said, “You promised they would not be involved if I helped.”

“I lied,” said Snape easily, turning down towards Dobby, “Go.”

The elf drew himself up importantly, saluted, and vanished with a crack! the other two following suit.

“You’re helping?” asked Harry, hope obvious in his entire body.

Lupin’s mouth opened as if to argue, but no noise came out. Hermione quickly went around him and closed the door. She grabbed his sleeve and drew him into conversation. Snape bit his thin lip until it turned white and walked over to his kitchen table. His long fingers ran on the edge of his smooth, wooden table as he looked down at the parchment envelope, sealed with the silver S.

“Potter,” he said quietly. He saw Potter’s eyes flick over to him from his friend.

“Come here,” he added quietly.

When the boy came over he didn’t speak, just looked at his teacher with polite interest.

“I’m going to leave this here,” Snape told him, “It is for her. Make sure someone knows to give it to her.”

Swallowing and looking down at the floor, Potter nodded, but he said, “I think it would mean more coming from you. I think you shouldn’t give up on your life so quickly.”

Snape said nothing. Minutes dragged by. Harry watched Snape pick something up from the table beside the couch. They were dragon hide gloves, plated ones, armored with scales. Harry suspected they were how Snape decided would be the best way to handle the Gyltock.

Crack!

Crack! Crack!

The elves appeared.

Breathless, Dobby let words spill from his mouth, “The Ice is where Harry Potter suspected. It is up at the top in a room with fire, in the wall above the top of the fire place.”

“Where one word and wizard’s fire could rise up and destroy it,” Snape mumbled, “Alright.”

Dobby reached up and grabbed Snape’s hand, Snape’s other hand holding his wand, the gloves crammed into his pocket. Winky held both Harry and Ron, and Guma reached for Lupin, who withdrew.

“This is lunacy,” he said, “Severus, I cannot go along with this if the children are in danger.”

Harry watched as Snape looked down at Guma and gave one small nod. Guma jumped, her tiny body launching into the air. She hit Lupin, wrapped herself around his arm, and they were gone. Severus’ eyes lingered over his bookshelves, and a second later he too was gone.

~

Such a quiet was bone deep. The seven of them stood at the very edge of the wards. And they stood.

“Harry,” Lupin mumbled, “Is this where he….”

Snape took a step forward and dropped to one knee. Focus. He slipped his wand under the lip of the alarm and slowly pulled it up. This ward was basic and simple. The Dark Lord would not even know when this one went down.

“Yeah,” he heard Potter reply, “That’s the headstone I was tied to…. Cedric was there.”

The ward snapped and vanished. Snape took another step forward, and spoke louder than the other two.

“Lupin, if you will….”

Lupin blinked several times. Everything in his was saying this was ludicrous, overly and completely, and yet Severus Snape was on the ground pulling apart his Master’s spells, putting everything he had suffered at risk of being worthless. With a sigh, Lupin got down beside Snape.

“If we both survive this, I’m going to kill you.”

“That would be acceptable,” Snape said.

This ward was more picky, but under them both it fell easily. The third, however, was far more complex. Threads of magic wove in different directions overlapping one another. Cutting through would have been simple, but they pulled on the individual strands as carefully as possible so as not to alert the Dark Lord. If he felt this, the next would not let them through in time to get away. They’d be trapped.

Instead of snapping like the last, Snape and Lupin made a hole in the magic, and after an agonizing amount of time, a doorway sized gap was barely visible, large enough to run through.

“When this is down, we can run, but he will know someone is here,” Snape said, “Lupin—“

“Yes, yes, I know, let’s just do it.”

And so they set to work. The adrenaline roaring through Harry and Ron kept them from standing still, constantly bouncing. All the large, round eyes of the house elves scanned the area around them and then again. Snape’s concentration was being tested more than ever before. He couldn’t think about Lily, couldn’t think about how this might end. It was obvious Lupin was struggling, but the man was still making progress. This ward was by no means basic, but the Dark Lord had placed it himself, which meant it had its own intentional built-in complications. It didn’t help that he could feel Potter vibrating behind him.

Snape zeroed in on a single thread and plucked it. An electrical sting rocked through his wand down to his elbow, a pain ten times worse than jamming his funny bone ricocheted up and down his arm, but he felt it distantly. The ward sizzled and fizzled and ceased to exist.

They all exploded in movement. Dobby, who had not released his grip on the boys, dissaperated, taking them with him. Winky snagged two of Snape’s fingers and twisted him away, leaving Lupin and Guma to close the ward and put up new ones, ones that their lives depended on.

~

Snape’s legs nearly folded on the molding carpet when he landed. Winky let go of him and bounded forward through the room. It was dark and musty, but there was no way Snape was going to risk lighting the fire. Winky ran around the large, black armchair and to the fireplace, jumping and pointing frantically up. Tightening his grip on his wand, Snape took long strides towards her, already chanting diagnostic spells. The outside of the wall only had a thin layer of magic on it, but as soon as his own disarming spells touched it, and the magic connected to his wand, an icy cold flooded him.

“Professor feels it, Sir, the cold, the magic he was looking for,” Winky whispered.

Snape nodded, not removing his eyes from the wall. He gave the magic a twist, careful strength behind his wand, and pulled it apart. The protective spell vanished, dusting the air, but he didn’t waste time. With a jerk of his wrist, the outer wall exploded, showing the elf below with wooden chips and fiber particles. Inside was a round sack of dark purple. He was not stupid enough to try to reach for it, knowing it had to be further guarded, nor was he stupid enough to think the purple material over the Star Ice would protect his hand.

Several more spells had to be unwoven. Some took just a couple seconds, others agonizingly stretched out.

An explosion rattled the window glass, but Snape didn’t look. Winky pulled a terrified face and went to the window. Snape’s wand hit a wall, a barrier his magic could not penetrate. A split second of panic laced through him, but then he understood. Winky said something but he barely comprehended the noise, but less made sense of it.

Knowing the damage would be extensive, he put his left hand against the barrier, forearm up, raised his wand, and sliced through the skin. It was deep, too deep. Blood sprouted and spurted as he opened his artery. The pain barely phased him.

Blood spray hit the magic, and fell in chunks. Snape did a couple more determinative waves of his wand that yielded nothing, and, deciding to take the risk, plunged his dripping hand into his pocket and withdrew his dragon plated gloves.

~

“I’m through everything I can,” Harry said, his voice quivering.

They stood at the door, light hitting them like sunrays from the bulb floating gently above them.

“I’m going to help Lupin,” Ron said, “He shouldn’t be out there alone.”

Another explosion rattle the kitchen door, and a shriek that sounded terribly like Bellatrix Lestrange reached them. Ron took off.

“Ron!” Harry yelled, “Ron, come back!”

Harry couldn’t move. He could do no more for the wards, but Snape—he needed to be here for Snape when he came down.

The thought barely finished its scroll through his brain when a crack! in the air made him very nearly pee his pants. His heart skipped two beats, forbidding breath to enter his chest. Snape held a dark purple sac that looked to house a softball. He quickly put it to his right hand and shook off his dark glove. Harry took it and shoved his hand in. He stopped for a second and looked down at his hand. The glove was wet and warm and sticky. His eyes moved to Snape’s hand. Harry watched it, coated in dark red and constantly dripping, grab his gloved hand. All thought was pushed form his mind when the cold swept over him as Snape placed the purple bag in his gloved hand. Shedding the second, Snape held it out and open. Harry placed his hand in, and Snape’s attention instantly left him, focused on the door. It took only a couple wand waves, and it burst open.

The house rumbled, and for a second Harry though it was what Snape had done to the door. He saw Snape disappear and sprint down several steps to the second door. Harry followed unsure.

“Where is Weasley?” Snape spat, fighting with the magic that kept them from Lily.

“He went to help Lupin,” Harry told him, his lips and tongue numb.

“That was not,” Snape said, his teeth gritted together as he gave the door a particularly vicious slash with his wand, “the plan.”

“He was worried about Lupin. The noises…”

Harry trailed off as watched Snape drag his blood covered hand across the door and then again, making a streaked X across the wood. The door glowed yellow, and Snape blasted it in.

For two seconds Harry stood rooted to the spot. All the hype he felt about his mom being alive, about saving her riveted him, but she was here, actually here. He was three steps from seeing her with his own eyes. It wasn’t until just then that it hit him. This wasn’t just hope or dreaming or something for the future. This was now. This was real. She was really there.

Snape grabbed his arm and yanked him forward into the room. A blinding light lit. Harry heard chains scrape on stone. He looked up at Snape, who was gazing at something behind Harry, his face bizarrely soft, but then the stone expression snatched his face back and Snape took off, thundering up the steps.

Harry blinked after him.

A small voice said, “James?”

~

Yells and shrieks sounded over crackling and hissing. Snape burst through the front door of the house. He realized Winky was still with him. Guma was cowering behind Lupin, who had sweated through his shirt, exhausted to the point of kneeling on the frosted grass. Weasley had a slice across his face. It dribbled down his neck, but it seemed he didn’t care. Snape was confused. The Dark Lord was assaulting the shield, the three Death Eaters he had brought with helping in no insignificant way.

Walking instead of running, using the time to calm himself and get his wits together, Severus approached them. He saw a black heap on the ground and now knew the Dark Lord had brought four Death Eaters with him. One was now dead. The Dark Lord was smiling teasingly at Lupin as he broke down the ward erected between them.

“Apparently I have not been ruthless enough if puppies think they can challenge me,” the Dark Lord said, and Bellatrix shrieked.

The smiles vanished from both their faces when they saw him.

“Severus,” the Dark Lord said.

Snape did not reply.

“Weasley,” he said, not taking his eyes off his Master, “Go and help Potter. He might already be gone.”

Ron took two steps back, but he stopped and spoke, “They made a hole. Lupin and I put up a second shield together, but that one,” the boy gestured down at the dead man, “came through the hole right before the second one went up.”

“Go to Potter.”

Ron took a few more steps back out of Snape’s view.

“I am so disappointed in you,” the Dark Lord said into the silence that followed, “You have thrown away everything—for a mudblood.”

“Yes,” said Snape, his face and posture strong but not defiant, “That is what I chose to do. I asked for her safety. You did not keep your word the first time so many years ago, why would you keep it now? You refused to release her to me. I had no other choice.”

“And you decided to do this with Potter, a blood traitor, and Dumbledore’s pet.”

Snape said nothing. Voldemort’s mouth turned to a flat line of furry. He moved his arm as if to throw a baseball, and a blinding white light shot from his wand and into the shield. It shattered like a cheap mirror, wisping into the sky. Lupin collapsed, his body seizing with exhaustion.

The three Death Eaters rushed him, Bellatrix out front. Snape braced himself, intending to kill at least her before he died. He saw a nasty curse bubble to the front of her mind, and he readied to dodge it.

Bellatrix’s body was thrown aside, tossed like a toy. The other two followed suit, hitting hard on the ground. Snape jerked aside in surprise, looking around wildly, expecting Lupin to miraculously be up or Potter pulling something foolish, but instead he was met with the angry expression of two tiny house elves.

In all his planning, all his thinking, his Death Eater brain had not once considered that the elves could help them fight. Snape took off towards Lupin.

“Kill them,” he ordered Winky as he passed, not sure if it was necessary.

His steps we ill placed and frantic, but his didn’t get very far. The Dark Lord shot out a jet of orange light and it hit Snape, throwing him to the side. He rolled over the grass, choking on a scream he wouldn’t let out as his skin boiled.

Gradually the pain subsided enough for him to turn his head and process what he was seeing. One of the Death Eaters was down, dent in half backwards, while Bellatrix and the other, Macnair it looked to be fought Winky and Guma. The humans were ill equipped to fight elves, and even Bellatrix was thrown off, not sure what to expect from this creature she spent her entire life ignoring.

The Dark Lord was speaking, but Severus couldn’t listen. He watched as his flesh ruptured, and in the background of his vision he saw one of the elves fall in a shower of blood. A triumphant squeal left Bellatrix, but it was cut off when another elf appeared.

Dobby, the one creature he for sure could recognize.

A foot pushed against his sizzling cheek and turned his face up, neck straight. The Dark Lord looked down at him with a cold furry even the Gyltock couldn’t compete with.

“I would have put you at my side, given you riches beyond imagination, my loyal servant, but you chose to betray me. You chose that mudblood. Did my mission mean nothing to you? Did you hear anything I have said?”

The sear that coated his body was not enough, would never be enough to keep Severus’ words from rasping out, “I haven’t taken an order form you since the day you marked her for death…. You’re powerful, but it’s blinded you…. So sure you could tell, sure you would know… but I bested you. You’re arrogant… and a fool.”


Voldemort leaned down until he was bent at a right angle, his wand outstretched and digging into Snape’s chest.

He hissed, “You will suffer the pain of a hundred deaths. You will beg for my forgiveness and mercy, and when you do, I will—“

A dazzling streak crossed Snape’s vision. Voldemort stumbled back, wrestling with what appeared to be a shadow. Snape heard footsteps and slowly turned his head towards them, but the pain too great to overcome such an angle. Voldemort composed himself and jabbed out his wand. A thick black cord shot out. It was solid and yet somehow still dripping. Snape knew what that was--a rope that held people like any other, but this one burrowed under the skin, through muscle until movement was impossible and agony was blinding. Snape let out a breath, his last easy one, and closed his eyes.

A body hit him, crushing his chest.

A scream so agonized he thought for sure it had come from himself.

But it hadn’t.

“Stupid, foolish, ignorant boy!” the Dark Lord yelled.

More screaming filled Snape’s ears, ringing around his head. Painfully turning his head the other direction, he saw the binder thick and oozy stretching out to them. It wasn’t buried in his chest as it was meant to be. It was in Ronald Weasley’s back.

Dobby appeared next to them, his apparition not heard over the boy’s screams. Snape reached out to Weasley’s fallen wand, the skin over his Dark Mark splitting and cracking. His fingers curled around the thin wood, knuckle flesh popping, and yanked his arm up with all his remaining strength, slashing through the binder with a sickening squelch. Dobby had them both and twisted them away.