Triumph Out of the Bitter Taste of Ashes
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
6,746
Reviews:
244
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
6,746
Reviews:
244
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter One
**********
Chapter One
**********
Severus Snape\'s legs gave out beneath him and he sank unceremoniously to his knees. It was over. Voldemort was dead, his death-eaters -- the majority of them -- bound, their wands confiscated. A few, of course, were still on the loose. Either they hadn\'t been here, or had apparated to safety the moment the Order attacked. All that was left noas tas the clean-up. **So many people dead,** he thought numbly, his gaze scanning the battlefield without lighting on any one scene for more than a moment.
A chuckle, crossed with a choked off sob, escaped him as he struggled back to his feet. He was still alive. He truly had never believed he\'d live to see this day. Oh, he\'d believed the day would come, Voldemort had been too obsessed to ultimately succeed; he\'d just assumed he\'d be dead before it happened . . . or as it happened. Mechanically, he began moving, his wand out as he scanned each body he passed for signs of life -- so far, none. Mentally, he filed away the names of the ones he knew by sight, too numb to feel anything but profound relief that it was over, finally over.
The prophesy had been fulfilled; though, not in the way everyone had expected. Irony. Severus Snape loved irony. The prophesy, simply by existing is what had been Voldemort\'s downfall. If it hadn\'t existed, he would not have been distracted at the crucial moment. An hour into the battle, Voldemort had spotted Harry Potter and, predictably, had gone for him, duelling an unwinnable battle. Severus, having suddenly found himself presented with the Dark Lord\'s back, had lifted his wand and cast the killing curse. It was the ultimate example of a self-fulfilling prophesy. It didn\'t make it any less true, just made it. . . .
\"Ironic,\" Potter said softly, \"isn\'t it?\"
Turning his head to stare at the greatest thorn in his side -- barring Voldemort himself -- Severus couldn\'t help but snort, a wry amusement twisting his lips up into a parody of a smile. \"I believe so,\" he replied before he thought to stop himself, to tired to try all that hard, then continued, his voice retaking its normal disdainful tones. \"What makes *you* think it?\"
Harry shook his head, letting loose a snort of his own. \"He was killed while fighting me . . . just like the prophesy hinted. The *irony* is that if he had been watching his back, instead of trying to take me out, a half-grown kid who had little chance to actually kill him without an awful bloody lot of luck, he might not have died.\"
For a moment, Severus was utterly stunned. Hearing his own thoughts virtually echoed by \'The Boy Who Lived\' was unprecedented. It was, to say the least, disturbing, and he found himself agreeing before he could censor his words. \"Exactly,\" he said. The bright smile he received in return was . . . surprising, untainted by malice or scorn as it was.
\"Bet that hurt to say,\" Potter quipped before turning away, his own wand mimicking the movements Severus had been making moments ago, his expression turning to sorrow.
Shaking his head, and seriously wondering if the nine hells had *all* frozen over, Severus returned to checking for lifet net needing to wonder why Potter looked as he did. So many dead bodies. It was hard for *him* to see. He could only imagine what it must be like for someone so young -- brat or not. At least none of the bodies he\'d come across had been the boy\'s know-it-all friend, Miss Granger. That, Severus thought, would kill the boy. As long as no body was found, the boy had hope; he was certainly Gryffindor enough for that sentimental twaddle.
Severus, himself, held out no hope for Miss Granger\'s survival. She, a \'mudblood\', had been in death-eater hands for well over 24 hours; if she wasn\'t dead yet, she would be better off that way. He had to admit, however, that he was shocked that the Order\'s Headquarters had not been attacked. Miss Granger had known the address. Not to mention the fact that she *also* knew of the entrance to Hogwarts grounds under the whomping willow. Both pieces of information would have been highly sought by Voldemort and his followers.
As far as he could tell, one of two things had happened. Either Lucius was far more stupid than Severus had given the man credit for and *hadn\'t* questioned her about it, despite the fact that he knew she\'d been staying there, or, Severus Snape had *severely* underestimated one Miss Hermione Granger. He snorted, even as he continued his search for living remnants of the battle. The likelihood of the second was so low, in his opinion, that he was left with the rather unsettling conclusion that twenty years ago, he\'d put his faith and trust in an idiot. It did absolutely nothing for his current mood.
\"Harry!\" Weasley cried out, his panicked, horror-filled voice shooting out over the battlefield.
Severus turned toward the two, a heaviness in his heart. She\'d been found.
\"She\'s not here!\"
\"What?\" Potter exclaimed. \"She has to be!\" he exclaimed, suddenly spinning away from Weasley and renewing his search of the bodies. This time, Severus noticed a certain . . . urgency to his movements.
Sighing, Severus turned his attention away from the two students. If Miss Granger was out here, among the bodies, she was, indeed, dead. But not even he had the insensitivity to point that out to them right now.
**
Eyes beyond dry, every muscle in his body aching from unaccustomed activity, Severus slumped into the nearest chair. Order headquarters, rapidly filling with every member who\'d been on life search, should have been filled with jubilation and shouts of victory. It wasn\'t, however. If everyone felt the way he did, Severus could certainly understand why. Seven hours they\'d all spent looking, hoping for survivors. So far the count was hideously uneven. 600 bodies -- dead from both sides -- had been recovered from the battlefield, and only 20 wounded, 9 of whom weren\'t expected to make it, not even with the best magical care available. Most of the people around him were beyond tears; though, he\'d certainly seen enough of those shed today. Everyone was simply too tired to openly grieve the devastating losses.
Of course, they hadn\'t yet begun raiding captured death-eater homes. Who knew what the total would rise to then. Without doubt, there would be suicides from both active death-eaters and from families of such. No one wanted Azkaban, and some would prefer even death to it. Severus wasn\'t too sure he didn\'t agree. His own short time there had left him with a respectable terror of the place.
Someone had to get these people moving. Everyone, himself included, needed to sleep . . . needed time to regroup and move on. Before he could so much as twitch a muscle, however, the front door slammed open, sending everyone to their feet, wands out -- himself included.
Glowering, Severus rolled his eyes. Albus was lucky he hadn\'t been hexed by any number of the forty-odd battle-weary people he\'d just startled. It took several moments, during which he got his own heart-rate back under control, for him to notice something he\'d never, *ever* seen before. Albus Dumbledore was openly furious.
\"What is it?\" Severus demanded, denying the terror that coursed through him seeing the most controlled man he\'d ever known look so out of control. He couldn\'t think of a single thing bad enough to warrant Albus\' fury . . . and that, in itself, was a very frightening thought.
\"Hogwarts was attacked.\"
Loud gasps and not a few short, cut-off screams met his pronouncement. Severus paled, sinking back into his chair. \"When?\" he choked out.
Albus\' fury melted suddenly, his grief openly displayed as tears ran freely down his face. \"Simultaneous to our attack on Voldemort,\" he replied brokenly, swaying.
The implications immediately sinking in, Severus knew Albus would probably never recover from this completely. If they hadn\'t mounted the direct assault on Voldemort, simply because of one student\'s capture, they\'d have been at Hogwarts to protect it . . . and the students. Severus wanted to rage and strike out. Unfortunately, he had no one to blame. Miss Granger had been snatched via Port Key from her very room, so, not even he could lay blame there. Obviously, someone from inside Hogwarts had done that piece of dirty work. He immediately thought of Malfoy, but had no proof. He didn\'t want to falsely accuse the young man and destroy any chance of him *not* turning to the dark.
No one could have known of the attack, save perhaps himself. Should that be who was blamed? Did he carry a measure of responsibility? He *was* the spy inside Voldemort\'s inner circle. Why hadn\'t he known about it?
\"T-the ch-ch-ildren?\" Molly Weasley stuttered, her hand hovering in horror over her mouth, tears, absent earlier, now filling her eyes.
\"Poppy and a team of emergency medi-witches from St. Mungos are caring for the survivors,\" Albus replied, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
The word, \'survivors\', echoed in hushed, horrified whispers throughout the room. Most of them had children who attended Hogwarts and now had the added fear of a hurt or dead child to hover over or grieve. Severus had never been so grateful to be childless. He took in the shocked blankness of expression around him, and did what no one else could . . . or dared.
\"How many?\" he asked flatly.
\"Seventy eight students dead, a hundred twenty three wounded. I--\" Albus voice cracked and he had to take a moment to clear his throat before he could continue. \"I wasn\'t able to get specifics. Everyone was too busy caring . . . caring for the children.\"
Thrusting his exhaustion aside, Severus rose. He knew no one was going to get any sleep until they knew for certain which parents still had their children. \"I\'ll go brew some pepper-up potion,\" he said tonelessly. \"Somehow, I think we\'re going to need it.\" Striding out of the room, he was glad to have something to do. Waiting had never been his strong suit, and having something useful to do would help keep his mind off . . . everything. He felt . . . selfish worrying about the future, his future, but he couldn\'t stop, not completely. What would he do now? Where would he go? Would he still teach at Hogwarts? He knew he wasn\'t the best suited to teaching, but he did actually enjoy it -- when he came across students who were actually semi-capable.
His step faltered as he thought that. He\'d had a few of those students over the years, students that had pushed his ability to push them to their limits. Hermione Granger had been one of those. As much as she had been an annoying, bossy, know-it-all, she had also been gifted with potions. He\'d pushed her more than he\'d pushed anyone except Potter, and she\'d met each challenge. He swallowed convulsively. It would be . . . odd not having her in class sitting so proudly between Potter and Weasley, driving him to distraction by seeming to know the answers before he even bloody asked the questions.
In some ways, it would be easier. Other students would now have to survive or fail on their own merits. In other ways, some small part him realized, he would sorely miss the challenge she represented to his teaching ability. He shook himself. No time for that kind of silly sentiment. He had a job to do.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback, craved above all else. Kidding . . . sorta. : )~
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
.
Chapter One
**********
Severus Snape\'s legs gave out beneath him and he sank unceremoniously to his knees. It was over. Voldemort was dead, his death-eaters -- the majority of them -- bound, their wands confiscated. A few, of course, were still on the loose. Either they hadn\'t been here, or had apparated to safety the moment the Order attacked. All that was left noas tas the clean-up. **So many people dead,** he thought numbly, his gaze scanning the battlefield without lighting on any one scene for more than a moment.
A chuckle, crossed with a choked off sob, escaped him as he struggled back to his feet. He was still alive. He truly had never believed he\'d live to see this day. Oh, he\'d believed the day would come, Voldemort had been too obsessed to ultimately succeed; he\'d just assumed he\'d be dead before it happened . . . or as it happened. Mechanically, he began moving, his wand out as he scanned each body he passed for signs of life -- so far, none. Mentally, he filed away the names of the ones he knew by sight, too numb to feel anything but profound relief that it was over, finally over.
The prophesy had been fulfilled; though, not in the way everyone had expected. Irony. Severus Snape loved irony. The prophesy, simply by existing is what had been Voldemort\'s downfall. If it hadn\'t existed, he would not have been distracted at the crucial moment. An hour into the battle, Voldemort had spotted Harry Potter and, predictably, had gone for him, duelling an unwinnable battle. Severus, having suddenly found himself presented with the Dark Lord\'s back, had lifted his wand and cast the killing curse. It was the ultimate example of a self-fulfilling prophesy. It didn\'t make it any less true, just made it. . . .
\"Ironic,\" Potter said softly, \"isn\'t it?\"
Turning his head to stare at the greatest thorn in his side -- barring Voldemort himself -- Severus couldn\'t help but snort, a wry amusement twisting his lips up into a parody of a smile. \"I believe so,\" he replied before he thought to stop himself, to tired to try all that hard, then continued, his voice retaking its normal disdainful tones. \"What makes *you* think it?\"
Harry shook his head, letting loose a snort of his own. \"He was killed while fighting me . . . just like the prophesy hinted. The *irony* is that if he had been watching his back, instead of trying to take me out, a half-grown kid who had little chance to actually kill him without an awful bloody lot of luck, he might not have died.\"
For a moment, Severus was utterly stunned. Hearing his own thoughts virtually echoed by \'The Boy Who Lived\' was unprecedented. It was, to say the least, disturbing, and he found himself agreeing before he could censor his words. \"Exactly,\" he said. The bright smile he received in return was . . . surprising, untainted by malice or scorn as it was.
\"Bet that hurt to say,\" Potter quipped before turning away, his own wand mimicking the movements Severus had been making moments ago, his expression turning to sorrow.
Shaking his head, and seriously wondering if the nine hells had *all* frozen over, Severus returned to checking for lifet net needing to wonder why Potter looked as he did. So many dead bodies. It was hard for *him* to see. He could only imagine what it must be like for someone so young -- brat or not. At least none of the bodies he\'d come across had been the boy\'s know-it-all friend, Miss Granger. That, Severus thought, would kill the boy. As long as no body was found, the boy had hope; he was certainly Gryffindor enough for that sentimental twaddle.
Severus, himself, held out no hope for Miss Granger\'s survival. She, a \'mudblood\', had been in death-eater hands for well over 24 hours; if she wasn\'t dead yet, she would be better off that way. He had to admit, however, that he was shocked that the Order\'s Headquarters had not been attacked. Miss Granger had known the address. Not to mention the fact that she *also* knew of the entrance to Hogwarts grounds under the whomping willow. Both pieces of information would have been highly sought by Voldemort and his followers.
As far as he could tell, one of two things had happened. Either Lucius was far more stupid than Severus had given the man credit for and *hadn\'t* questioned her about it, despite the fact that he knew she\'d been staying there, or, Severus Snape had *severely* underestimated one Miss Hermione Granger. He snorted, even as he continued his search for living remnants of the battle. The likelihood of the second was so low, in his opinion, that he was left with the rather unsettling conclusion that twenty years ago, he\'d put his faith and trust in an idiot. It did absolutely nothing for his current mood.
\"Harry!\" Weasley cried out, his panicked, horror-filled voice shooting out over the battlefield.
Severus turned toward the two, a heaviness in his heart. She\'d been found.
\"She\'s not here!\"
\"What?\" Potter exclaimed. \"She has to be!\" he exclaimed, suddenly spinning away from Weasley and renewing his search of the bodies. This time, Severus noticed a certain . . . urgency to his movements.
Sighing, Severus turned his attention away from the two students. If Miss Granger was out here, among the bodies, she was, indeed, dead. But not even he had the insensitivity to point that out to them right now.
**
Eyes beyond dry, every muscle in his body aching from unaccustomed activity, Severus slumped into the nearest chair. Order headquarters, rapidly filling with every member who\'d been on life search, should have been filled with jubilation and shouts of victory. It wasn\'t, however. If everyone felt the way he did, Severus could certainly understand why. Seven hours they\'d all spent looking, hoping for survivors. So far the count was hideously uneven. 600 bodies -- dead from both sides -- had been recovered from the battlefield, and only 20 wounded, 9 of whom weren\'t expected to make it, not even with the best magical care available. Most of the people around him were beyond tears; though, he\'d certainly seen enough of those shed today. Everyone was simply too tired to openly grieve the devastating losses.
Of course, they hadn\'t yet begun raiding captured death-eater homes. Who knew what the total would rise to then. Without doubt, there would be suicides from both active death-eaters and from families of such. No one wanted Azkaban, and some would prefer even death to it. Severus wasn\'t too sure he didn\'t agree. His own short time there had left him with a respectable terror of the place.
Someone had to get these people moving. Everyone, himself included, needed to sleep . . . needed time to regroup and move on. Before he could so much as twitch a muscle, however, the front door slammed open, sending everyone to their feet, wands out -- himself included.
Glowering, Severus rolled his eyes. Albus was lucky he hadn\'t been hexed by any number of the forty-odd battle-weary people he\'d just startled. It took several moments, during which he got his own heart-rate back under control, for him to notice something he\'d never, *ever* seen before. Albus Dumbledore was openly furious.
\"What is it?\" Severus demanded, denying the terror that coursed through him seeing the most controlled man he\'d ever known look so out of control. He couldn\'t think of a single thing bad enough to warrant Albus\' fury . . . and that, in itself, was a very frightening thought.
\"Hogwarts was attacked.\"
Loud gasps and not a few short, cut-off screams met his pronouncement. Severus paled, sinking back into his chair. \"When?\" he choked out.
Albus\' fury melted suddenly, his grief openly displayed as tears ran freely down his face. \"Simultaneous to our attack on Voldemort,\" he replied brokenly, swaying.
The implications immediately sinking in, Severus knew Albus would probably never recover from this completely. If they hadn\'t mounted the direct assault on Voldemort, simply because of one student\'s capture, they\'d have been at Hogwarts to protect it . . . and the students. Severus wanted to rage and strike out. Unfortunately, he had no one to blame. Miss Granger had been snatched via Port Key from her very room, so, not even he could lay blame there. Obviously, someone from inside Hogwarts had done that piece of dirty work. He immediately thought of Malfoy, but had no proof. He didn\'t want to falsely accuse the young man and destroy any chance of him *not* turning to the dark.
No one could have known of the attack, save perhaps himself. Should that be who was blamed? Did he carry a measure of responsibility? He *was* the spy inside Voldemort\'s inner circle. Why hadn\'t he known about it?
\"T-the ch-ch-ildren?\" Molly Weasley stuttered, her hand hovering in horror over her mouth, tears, absent earlier, now filling her eyes.
\"Poppy and a team of emergency medi-witches from St. Mungos are caring for the survivors,\" Albus replied, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
The word, \'survivors\', echoed in hushed, horrified whispers throughout the room. Most of them had children who attended Hogwarts and now had the added fear of a hurt or dead child to hover over or grieve. Severus had never been so grateful to be childless. He took in the shocked blankness of expression around him, and did what no one else could . . . or dared.
\"How many?\" he asked flatly.
\"Seventy eight students dead, a hundred twenty three wounded. I--\" Albus voice cracked and he had to take a moment to clear his throat before he could continue. \"I wasn\'t able to get specifics. Everyone was too busy caring . . . caring for the children.\"
Thrusting his exhaustion aside, Severus rose. He knew no one was going to get any sleep until they knew for certain which parents still had their children. \"I\'ll go brew some pepper-up potion,\" he said tonelessly. \"Somehow, I think we\'re going to need it.\" Striding out of the room, he was glad to have something to do. Waiting had never been his strong suit, and having something useful to do would help keep his mind off . . . everything. He felt . . . selfish worrying about the future, his future, but he couldn\'t stop, not completely. What would he do now? Where would he go? Would he still teach at Hogwarts? He knew he wasn\'t the best suited to teaching, but he did actually enjoy it -- when he came across students who were actually semi-capable.
His step faltered as he thought that. He\'d had a few of those students over the years, students that had pushed his ability to push them to their limits. Hermione Granger had been one of those. As much as she had been an annoying, bossy, know-it-all, she had also been gifted with potions. He\'d pushed her more than he\'d pushed anyone except Potter, and she\'d met each challenge. He swallowed convulsively. It would be . . . odd not having her in class sitting so proudly between Potter and Weasley, driving him to distraction by seeming to know the answers before he even bloody asked the questions.
In some ways, it would be easier. Other students would now have to survive or fail on their own merits. In other ways, some small part him realized, he would sorely miss the challenge she represented to his teaching ability. He shook himself. No time for that kind of silly sentiment. He had a job to do.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback, craved above all else. Kidding . . . sorta. : )~
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
.