When Good Wizards Go Bad ~ (Small Edit, not Update

Chapter 13 ~ The Revelation

Harry watched as a young Lily Evans picked up a flower and did magic on it in a playground

“Lily, don’t do it! Mummy told you not to! Mummy said you weren’t allowed, Lily!”

“But I’m fine,” said Lily, still giggling. “Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do.”

“Stop it!” shrieked Petunia.

“It’s not hurting you,” said Lily,

“It’s not right,” said Petunia, “How do you do it?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” a young Snape said, appearing from behind a tree, “You’re. . . you’re a witch.”

Harry watched a close friendship between Snape and his mother grow, and how he was targeted on the train to Hogwarts by James and Sirius, and what a git his father was. He saw how Severus was sorted into Slytherin and his mother into Gryffindor. He also saw that Snape was hopelessly in love with his mother and how he tried to warn her off of James, telling her that the Gryffindor fancied her.

“I know James Potter’s an arrogant toerag,” Lily said, “I don’t need you to tell me that. But Mulciber’s and Avery’s idea of humor is just evil. Evil, Sev. I don’t understand how you can be friends with them.”

Then, Harry saw the aftermath of the day by the lake when Snape called his mother a Mudblood. Snape was standing outside of the Gryffindor entrance trying to apologize to Lily.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not interested.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Save your breath. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.”

“I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just—”

“Slipped out? It’s too late. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends—you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you? “I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.”

“No—listen, I didn’t mean—”

“—to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?”

Lily climbed back through the portrait, leaving Snape behind.

Next Harry was on a hilltop in the darkness. It was cold and windy. Snape was pacing back and forth then fell to his knees as a jet of jagged white light appeared and coalesced into Albus Dumbledore.

“Don’t kill me!”

“That was not my intention. “Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?”

“No—no message—I’m here on my own account! I—I come with a warning—no, a request—please—”

Dumbledore flicked his wand so silence fell around them..

“What request could a Death Eater make of me?”

“The—the prophecy. . . the prediction. . . Trelawney. . . ”

“Ah, yes,” said Dumbledore. “How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?”

“Everything—everything I heard! That is why—it is for that reason—he thinks it means Lily Evans!”

“The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July—”

“You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down—kill them all—”

“If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?”

“I have—I have asked him—”

“You disgust me. You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?”

“Hide them all, then,” he croaked. “Keep her—them—safe. Please.”

“And what will you give me in return, Severus?”

“In—in return? Anything.”

So that was how Snape was pressed into Dumbledore’s service, because he wanted his mother protected. Now they were in Dumbledore’s office and Snape was there moaning and broken, looking as if he had lived a century since the meeting on the hilltop.

“I thought. . . you were going. . . to keep her. . . safe. . . ”

“She and James put their faith in the wrong person, rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her? Her boy survives. Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“DON’T! Gone. . . dead. . . ”

“Is this remorse, Severus?”

“I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . ”

“And what use would that be to anyone? If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.”

“What—what do you mean?”

“You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.”

“He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—”

“The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.”

“Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter’s son. . . I want your word!”

“My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you? If you insist. . . ”

Harry watched as Snape continued in his service after Voldemort returned in his fourth year and also watched as he saved Dumbledore who had been stricken by Marvolo’ ring. He was going to die. Dumbledore discussed the Dark Lord’s plan to have Draco kill him. Harry witnessed the pureblood’s attempt at it that night in the tower.

“Are you intending to let him kill you?” Snape asked the old wizard.

“Certainly not. You must kill me.”

“If you don’t mind dying,” said Snape roughly, “why not let Draco do it?”

“That boy’s soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account.”

“And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?”

“You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year’s league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved—I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.”

Snape nodded curtly.

“Thank you, Severus. . . ”

Now Harry understood what happened. Why Snape had killed Dumbledore. It was the old wizard’s wish. He really was Dumbledore’s man. But if Harry thought his journey in the Pensieve was over, he was wrong. There was one more thing he had to see.

They were back in Dumbledore’s office, the windows dark, and Fawkes sat silent as Snape sat quite still, Dumbledore walking around him, talking.

“Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?”

“But what must he do?”

“That is between Harry and me. Now listen closely, Severus. There will come a time—after my death—do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake.”

“For Nagini?”

“Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.”

“Tell him what?”

“Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsed building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort’s mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.”

Harry froze. What? What was Dumbledore saying? He held Voldemort’s soul fragment. Fuck! He was a Horcrux!

“So the boy. . . the boy must die?”

“And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.”

There was a bit more, about Snape ranting about how he kept Harry alive to be a lamb for the slaughter and he thought the purpose was to keep him alive and not sacrifice him. But that didn’t really register for Harry. All he knew was Dumbledore had kept him safe to give him to Voldemort in the end. He also knew it had to be done.

Harry was released from the Pensieve. He looked up at Snape, who frowned down at him. The left lens of Harry’s glasses was cracked and his eye was black and blue from where Snape had punched him when he tried to attack him. After throttling the boy and throwing him around a bit, which the dark wizard heartily enjoyed, he managed to give him the pensieve.

”So now you know,” Snape said to Harry, “Your entire purpose was to be killed and release the soul fragment that keeps Voldemort next to immortal,” Snape said to him.

Harry said nothing as he absorbed this. Neither could live while the other survived.

“Your purpose hasn’t changed,” Snape said, “It is either your life or the lives of thousands under the Dark Lord’s thumb. Ideally, I would kill you myself and release the fragment, but Dumbledore was so adamant that the Dark Lord be your killer I feel there is something more to it. Perhaps, if we are lucky, he will die as well.”

Harry still said nothing, but listened to the wizard.

”Nagini still lives as well. She must be killed before you are,” Snape said, then stopped, looking at the boy.

”Mr. Potter, your hour has arrived. You now know your destiny, that which you were born for. Will you shirk that duty? If so, I will kill you now and go for Nagini and the Dark Lord myself, though I doubt I will be successful and all our deaths will have been in vain,” the wizard said.

Harry looked up at Snape.

”But Voldemort won’t kill me. That’s why he kept me here, to protect me, to make sure I lived a long, safe life,” the young wizard said to him.

”Oh, I guarantee he’ll kill you Harry, just as quickly as he’d kill me if I betrayed him,” the wizard purred. “I have . . . a plan.”

”Then . . . then I’m willing. His evil has to stop,” Harry said bravely.

Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes. Gryffindors and their endless inane declarations of bravado and catch phrases.

“Then here, take this, and listen very closely to me, and I do mean closely. We only have one chance to get this right, boy. Everything will be riding on your dismal ability to follow instructions. Do I make myself clear?” Snape asked, handing Harry the Elder Wand.

Harry stared at it.

”You defeated Draco. The wand belongs to you. It will work,” Snape said, “Now, listen closely . . .”

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At precisely ten to eleven, Snape arrived at Azkaban to find all the guards in the prison courtyard decked out in their red and black uniforms and in formation, while photographers took pictures and several reporter were taking statement from Warden Houley. Snape walked up to them.

”I see you all arrived here punctually. Thank you for coming,” he said the reporters.

One of the reporters, a sharp-eyed hawkish looking wizard with a quill behind his ear looked at Snape consideringly.

”Come on, Snape. Tell the truth. Isn’t the real reason we’re here to make the regime look good? Good treatment for prisoners. Right,” he snorted.

Houley looked quite affronted.

”I assure you they are receiving the very best treatment possible. If not for the bars, it wouldn’t even seem as if they were imprisoned,” the warden said, bristling.

Snape eyed the reporter.

”To be honest, sir, you and your comrades are here to see history being made. Which should happen in about . . .” Snape said, looking at a small magical sundial on his wrist.

”Now,” he concluded, “I suggest you step back a bit.”

Suddenly a great rumbling arose, echoing all around the courtyard area. The guards and Houley looked bewildered.

”What is that infernal noise?” Houley cried as the thundering grew louder.

Suddenly, several hundred prisoners burst from the entryways surrounding the courtyard, wands extended, shouting, “Freedom! Freedom!”

”I suggest we duck,” Snape said to the stunned reporters and photographers, then he hit the deck, followed by Prophet staff.

Hexes flew and loud cries echoed as the Azkaban guards were overrun and overpowered by the freed prisoners. It took all of three minutes. Snape got up off the ground and brushed off his robes as Kingsley walked up. The guards were all being bound and led away to be placed in cells.

“Well done, Kingsley,” Snape said as the Auror shook his hand.

The Prophet photographers were wildly snapping photographs of the overcome guards and the warden being led away.

The sharp-eyed reporter ran up to Snape and Kingsley.

”What happened here? Is this an uprising?” he asked excitedly.

Snape nodded.

”Today, my friend is the end of Voldemort’s reign. To find out the rest of the story, be on the Ministry steps an hour after I depart,” he said to the wizard, “In the meantime, I imagine Kingsley Shacklebolt, who will serve as the new Minister of Magic once Voldemort is overthrown will be happy to answer any questions you have. I must go and make sure the new prisoners are properly secured.”

Snape walked away.

The reporter turned to Kingsley.

”What happened here? How did you all manage this?” the reporter asked him.

“I think it’s best I begin at the beginning,” the wizard said, rubbing his bald head.

Snape oversaw the incarceration of the Azkaban guards and the opening of the supply room where the Port Keys were. At twelve-thirty the Order would all Port Key to the Ministry. If he was not there by one o’clock, they were to storm the Ministry building, open up the floo network and disperse as best they could. They could form a resistance and continue the battle at a later should his plan fail.

At twelve o’clock sharp, Snape disapparated to his next destination.

**************************************

At precisely two minutes after twelve, Voldemort was roused by the sound of apparition. He looked up to see his loyal servant kneeling before him.

”Ah Severus. Arise and come closer,” he said to the wizard.

The tall, pale wizard rose, his face like stone as he approached the throne, his wand grasped firmly in his hand.

Nagini lifted her head a foot clear of Voldemort’s shoulders and hissed viciously.

Suddenly, Snape’s wand hand flashed forward.

” SECTUMSEMPRA!” he roared, cleanly cleaving Nagini’s head from her body. Voldemort screamed as his beloved familiar writhed then fell still.

His red eyes ignited with a terrible flame as he snarled at the wizard standing before him, the wand once again at his side.

”You traitorous scum! AVADA KEDAVRA!” Voldemort screamed, rising from his throne, casting the spell, hitting Snape with the dread green light and killing him instantly.

Then the Dark Lord staggered, the throne room spinning wildly. He tumbled down the short dais to the hard stone floor, unconscious.

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A/N: The dialogue in the first part of this chapter is taken verbatim from the Death Hallows book and is not my own creation. Other than that, thanks for reading. More to come.