Repercussions

A/N: (At the beginning, crazy, I know.) This chapter kind of has HP7 spoilers. I am not going to purposefully incorporate things that happened in the last book into this story (there won’t be any Deathly Hallows, sorry!), but I couldn’t help but to use some things that we discovered in HP7. So even though reading this in no way will give away the ending to the series, and if you haven’t read the last book you should be instead of reading fanfiction, I felt the need to warn you. I would also warn you for the darkness of this one, but if you’ve made it this far, I’m sure you’ll deal ; ) Oh and I hired two big burly bodyguards after posting this chapter, incase you get any ideas!


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“You wished to see me, my Lord?”

“Yes, yes. Come in Severus,” came the unmistakable hiss of Lord Voldemort. The former Potions Master took note of the slight rise in pitch on certain syllables of the welcome, and inwardly cringed at what it meant. Either the Dark Lord was very, very happy about something, or feeling particularly murderous. It was truly a fine line between the two.

“Did you hear? Turns out, the use of the mudblood was better served than I ever could have imagined.”

Snape raised an eyebrow in confusion, but it was unnoticed through his thick sheets of hair. Not to mention the fact that the Dark Lord’s back was turned, facing the hearth of an enchanted blue fire in the corner of the otherwise dank and decrepit room. The coiled form of Nagini lay there, creating a flickering shadow that concealed Snape’s lower half.

“The Granger girl, my Lord?” Snape asked in barely a whisper.

“Very good, Severus. Yes, Miss Granger is actually the proud womb of not one, but two heirs to the noble bloodline of Salazar Slytherin.”

Snape’s utter and total shock was masked only by his superior skills at Occlumency. Hermione Granger was pregnant by Voldemort!? How was it possible!? And more importantly, how had it all happened right under the ex-professor’s hooked nose? Snape quickly cleared his throat to ensure his voice from cracking when he responded. His attention to simple details such as the tone and pitch of one’s voice were what had kept him alive for so long.

“Oh, my Lord?” he asked, adding the perfect hint of a questioning quality to his words.

“Yes, you see. The little mudblood had the honor of being my whore this summer, and the poor girl doesn’t even remember it. Pity.” He spat as a twisted attempt at a humorous afterthought. Snape didn’t know how to reply. He was disgusted an appalled, not to mention a little bit worried that this was the first time he was hearing of all this. He had to inform the Order, but first he would fuel his curiosity this one last time. He knew it would no longer be safe to return to the Death Eater Headquarters again, he could tell that much from his not so warm welcome. The Dark Lord still wasn’t looking at him.

“Memory charm?” he decided to ask when nothing else came to him.

“Obviously,” the Dark Lord replied with a sneer. “Administered by your dear friend, Lucius. Didn’t he tell you?”

“N-no, my Lord,” Snape managed to respond. He couldn’t believed he was left in the dark, by Lucius Malfoy no less. Lucius wasn’t even in the Dark Lord’s inner circle any more, as far as Snape was aware. The blonde had always confided in him, trusted him… Snape actually considered the man a close acquaintance. What had changed?

“Good, good. I see Lucius hasn’t wavered his loyalties. Although, don’t you think he should be in your debt? After all, it was you who ensured that Draco would have a spot back at Hogwarts, in the coveted position as Head Boy. You remember how I ordered you to see to that appointment?”

“Yes, of course my Lord,” Snape quickly responded, panic starting to settle in. “My Lord I have never wavered in my loyalties. In fact, I believe myself to be your most loyal, your most dedicated servant of them all! I gladly risk my life to bring you information on the Order. I- I killed Dumbledore!” he finished, instinctively taking a step back. His hand gripped the air where his wand should have been. It was considered bad form to possess a wand during private meetings with their Master. Now, choosing to adhere to this unspoken rule seemed incredibly foolish.

“That you did Severus, that you did…” Voldemort hissed softly, slowly, menacing. Snape was frozen to the spot, his feelings of forebodement increasing tenfold. Perhaps his stint as a double agent was nearing its end even sooner than expected. Would he make it to an apparition point without being caught, without a wand, and with the most deadly, evil sorcerer in the world on his tail?

Just as he was thinking of his impossible escape, a strong wind interrupted the stagnant air and the metal door slid shut behind him with a loud, echoing clang. Snape’s expertise in the matter of indifference ensued that he didn’t even flinch, though inside his mind was a completely different story. He needed a way out, and soon.

The Dark Lord continued to ignore his guest, and instead began conversing with the snake, in the soft, but eerily high hiss Snape had come to recognize as Parseltongue.

Out of nowhere, a rickety wooden chair appeared in the middle of the room, and Snape felt himself being pushed on all sides. The air was forced from his lungs as the pressure increased. He groaned in pain while he felt his body being drawn to sit on the chair, his legs and arms bending in unnatural ways until he was firmly planted and at the mercy of the cruel man in black robes, who was still facing the dying blue flames. Snape struggled to release himself, feeling weaker by the minute as his oxygen-deprived brain began to slip. His eyes rolled back into his head… The last remnants of life seeping from his pores.

Everything was black, but the pressure was gone. He gasped for breath, shaking and sputtering. The cool air quenched his parched lungs, and rekindled his need for escape. Nothing but fear was holding him to the chair now. Did he dare make a run for it? The Dark Lord still had his back turned on the proceedings, and the fire was no more than a pebble sized blue ember. It was now or never…

And like clockwork, the second he made his bid for freedom, a sudden cold engulfed him around his legs. It slowly slithered upwards, a heavy package of muscular imprisonment. It made its way around his lap, and then his chest, tightening to the point where his pale skin was dragged across bone while the large form continued to wrap itself around the body of the spy. His arms were now pinned to his side, rigid against the chair. The most he could do was look away, so he wouldn’t have to face the head of the snake. He could tell it was right by his ear, as the faint hissing was abnormally loud. It even drowned out the sound of his heart beating against his ribcage, and Lord Voldemort chuckling ominously in the background.

“Severus, Severus, what’s your hurry? We have much to discuss. Now, where were we?” he asked the wall, tilting his head slightly to the side, as if sincerely pondering the question. “Oh yes, don’t you think it peculiar that the only thing I’ve asked of you these past months was for Draco to be instated as Head Boy?”

“No, my Lord. I- I have always thought my underlying duties were to keep you informed on the movements of the Order. I-“

“Is that so, Severus?” Voldemort cut him off, spinning around on the spot and facing his captive at last. “If you insist that that is indeed the case, then what have you told me of interest since the demise of your dear Dumbledore?”

The red eyes of the Dark Lord were boring into his mind, and Snape had to fight to block him, while coming up with a believable alibi.

“My Lord I am not the Secret Keeper for the Order, so it is impossible for me to divulge their whereabouts! However I-“

“Tsk, tsk,” Voldemort paced, silencing the stammering Potions Master. “You of all wizards should know better than to underestimate me. You murdered Dumbledore, and with his death instated you, and all your other little Order friends, as Secret Keepers. So, I’ll ask you again. What have you told me of interest?”

Snape gulped, closed his eyes, and concentrated hard. This couldn’t be the end. Not now that he had just gained such vital information. He tried again for an excuse, anything that he could pass for the truth.

“Moody! Moody placed jinxes all over Headquarters. There was no way I could have said anything. Surely you can understand this!?” Snape pleaded, his eyes raking their surroundings for emphasis.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t. That is beside the point though. You don’t have much time left I’m afraid, and we still have so much to talk about.”

Snape could do nothing but observe as the Dark Lord stilled his movements, only to pull out his wand and roll it around between his skeletal fingers. He didn’t dare speak, just waited for what was to come. He didn’t have to wait long, though he almost wished he had.

“How did you discover my horcruxes?” Voldemort asked conversationally. Whatever Snape was expecting, it wasn’t that. It was anything but that. They had covered their tracks so well when scouting Helga’s grave. Every single detail was planned out to perfection. How could they have been caught? Unless…. Could this inquiry simply be a shot in the dark?

“My Lord, I don’t understand. You are already immortal, why would you need a horcrux?” he asked, feigning naiveté.

“Not one horcrux, Severus. Seven. As you are already well aware. Or are you going to tell me you have been staking out our dear Founder’s grave for a field trip? Last I checked you were no longer a professor. Seems the parents don’t want Dumbledore’s killer teaching their kiddies, no matter how much of a double-crossing, weak, pathetic and useless son of a muggle he may be,” he snickered.

It was no shot in the dark. They had been caught. Fuck. There was no use in making up more lies for the Dark Lord to see through. This was the end of the road. Would anyone cry for his demise? Would anyone even know, and if they did, would they care? He had just met with Potter and Weasley, and they didn’t expect to see him again until the last day of term. ‘Looking forward to it,’ Potter had gritted out sarcastically when they made the plan. He had devoted the better half of his life to fighting alongside Dumbledore, and now Potter, to bring down Voldemort, but he had never been particularly nice to them. Downright cruel was more like it.

“No time for sentimental thoughts now my friend,” Voldemort intervened. “We still have much to discuss. You are quite the gifted Occlumens. I must say I had miscalculated your strength in the ability. I could always forcefully extract your thoughts and sift through them until I found something of use, but that would take time. And the truth of the matter is that I don’t really need to know how you uncovered the horcruxes. The others are much better protected from nosy traitors, even Saint Potter doesn’t stand a chance. I’ve made sure of it.

“I didn’t feel the need with the cup, as the four Founders’ graves hold built in alarms, conjured by Merlin himself. Did you know? Merlin hoped for peace after death, the fool, and for the descendants of the four great wizards and witches to look after one another. So the alarms were passed down from generation to generation. One such alarm, that I so happen to have in my possession, went off for the first time just a few short weeks ago.” At this point, Voldemort’s hand disappeared inside his robes, and emerged a moment later holding a metal chain. Dangling from the chain was a sinister looking charm, with a ghostlike tinge of green, almost glowing in the dark room. It was in the shape of a skull, with a snake in place of a tongue. The Dark Mark.

“I never was much of an artist, but what better way to mark my followers than with the very relic that signifies my own, noble ancestry?”

“Very good, my Lord,” Snape grunted. Nagini continued to coil around his chest and legs, tightening at random intervals, and slacking off just before her grip became lethal. Snape was quickly tiring of the arrangements. He was going to die, that much was certain. There was no way the Dark Lord would let him live after divulging such essential and confidential information. Somehow, it all seemed quite humorous. This was practically the Dark Lord’s idea of a formal tea party; a little get together with an old friend to gossip about the ancient secrets of the wizarding world. This was probably the most open Voldemort had ever been, with anyone. Most Death Eaters would die to be strapped to the rotting old chair. How ironic that Snape was about to do just that. The thought was making him feel quite impulsive, reckless even.

“Do you mind telling your pet to loosen her grip before I become the proud father of interspecies mutants?”

“Funny, Severus. I never knew you had it in you,” he chuckled sinisterly, holding the skull charm at eye level and examining it. “I’m afraid I cannot do that though. Dear Nagini is angry. You see, she does not deem you worthy to bear the Dark Mark any longer. However, this should appease her.”

Snape ceased his breathy grunts and watched in horror as the Dark Mark trinket glowed red, and the one holding it chanted softly in parseltongue. The snake continued to circle around him in a deathly manner, its incessant hisses becoming louder by the second. Snape struggled to remain cool and collected while he waited for what was to come. He would not give the evil man the satisfaction of watching him squirm. His muscles tensed, the piercing hisses enveloping him on all sides. Louder and louder, consuming him, surrounding him…

And then it stopped, and there was only silence. Even the snake ceased to breath or move. The soft blue embers of the fire died without a sound, leaving the room in absolute darkness. Darkness and silence. Snape blinked in confusion but the scenery never changed.

Blinding florescent lights abruptly illuminated the room. Snape squinted at the ceiling, but the light seemed to be coming from the room itself, so he did not find a source. After a moment, his pupils contracted and his eyes adjusted to the intrusive brightness. He immediately noticed the Dark Lord’s new seating arrangements. The former Tom Riddle was now settled comfortably on an ornately carved, high-backed chair with plush green velvet coverings, planted directly in front of Severus on his wretched little stool. The corners of Voldemort’s mouth were slanted upwards, in an unnatural lipless smirk.

“Not to worry Severus, your climactic end is drawing near,” he said, still wearing his mad little smirk. He opened his hand and set Slytherin’s alarm on his lap. The little object was now pulsing rhythmically with a soft red light. The sight of it seemed to please the Dark Lord.

“Now, back to my horcruxes. Am I right to presume that you know how one is created?”

Severus tilted his head in a slight nod, scowling, and the Dark Lord continued.

“Murder. Murder splits the soul, and makes one more powerful than is ever conceivable.”

“Powerful,” Snape spat, mocking his former master. “A truly powerful wizard is just that- truly powerful. He is born like that. Whole. Seven pieces of yourself, and you still couldn’t kill an itty-bitty baby. And Potter is nothing special. I’ve taught him for six years. He shows no great talent, no extraordinary capabilities. He’s not even close to being top of his class. The only thing he has going for him is that he continues to defeat you.”

“ENOUGH!” the Dark Lord snarled, his anger ignited at last. He glared at Snape for a moment, before letting his heavy breathing subside and turning his gaze to the glowing skull in his lap. When he looked back at Snape, the grin had returned.

“True I have not been able to kill off Potter yet, but as you can see, I am still alive, and as powerful as I ever was. So he has not been victorious either. Besides, killing is just another part of life, it would have been a waste not to gain from the feat. Of course, murder is not the only way one can die… and the soul is not the only part of one’s self that can be split,” the Dark wizard hissed silkily. It seemed Lord Voldemort had gotten to the part he really wanted to discuss. His eyes seemed to come alive by the end of the statement. Severus didn’t want to know what could make the Dark Lord look so sickeningly happy.

“Suicide, Severus. Murder splits the soul, and suicide splits the magic. The knowing and purposeful taking of one’s own life can rip out the magic from another. And once the magic has left a body, it needs to immediately locate a new place of residence before it fades away. It will either rein habit the origin, or if it senses a connection to another being, say, by blood, the magic will unite. And do you know what happens when two times as much magical energy is consumed in a single body?”

Snape’s chin hit the floor, he couldn’t help it. It was all too much to take. Double the magic under the control of that evil and sick excuse for a wizard would be nothing less then Armageddon for the entire world. He didn’t respond to the question.

“Power. More power than you can possibly imagine, and all at my mercy. So you see, it won’t matter that Potter has uncovered the horcruxes, fake or otherwise. An entire army of Potters and mudblood sidekicks couldn’t defeat someone with twice as much magical prowess, especially magic that descends from the great Salazar Slytherin himself.”

“Didn’t they teach you math at that muggle orphanage you grew up in?” Snape taunted. Reckless no longer described his mood, downright insane was much closer to the truth at this point. “Half your magic will have descended from Slytherin, because you are a Slytherin descendant. The very last one, thank Merlin. So unless you have a spare brother lying around somewhere, I suggest you recalculate.”

Instead of the multiple rounds with the Cruciatus curse Snape was expecting, the Dark Lord only laughed. A high-pitched, cold, cruel laugh that rang off the walls and made the greasy hair on the back of Snape’s neck stand on end. The Potions Master was unaware he had become such a comedian in his old age.

“Do keep up that smart little mouth of yours, it will make your death all the more entertaining,” Voldemort sneered, glancing down at his lap. Snape followed his line of sight, and was anxious to see the red glow of the little charm was becoming stronger, and pulsing on and off much more rapidly than before. Snape shuddered, but had no intentions of keeping his tongue in check.

“My death doesn’t change the fact that you are the last of the Slytherins.”

“Were you not listening to a word I said earlier, Severus? Mudblood Granger is carrying two descendants of Slytherin in her unworthy womb. Over the summer holiday I fabricated an ingenious tale about wanting an heir, and I used Draco as my little pawn in the matter. He ate it all up, of course, never gave it a second thought. He is just as weak-minded and pathetic as his dear old dad. Why would I, Lord Voldemort, want an heir? I am immortal. I don’t need someone to live out my good name when I pass, or play flying games in the park with. The thought of having to care for something for fifteen years before it can be of use completely disgusts me. And what then, when it finally becomes of age, what is it to me? Competition? There can be only one ruler of the wizarding world, and Slytherins will always fight for the top, no matter whom they have to bowl down in the process. It’s what sets us apart from the rest, makes us superior.

“But with twins, I can have the best of both worlds. I can take the magic from one, and have the heir I never wanted. With double the magical ability no matter how Slytherin it is, it won’t stand a chance against me. So you see Severus, I win. In less than half a year Potter and the Order will cease to exist, and the world will be at my mercy. You have failed,” he ended with pompous finality. Snape was about to respond, but the sudden strong light coming from the Dark Mark charm caught him open-mouthed. It was no longer blinking, just glowing brighter and brighter… mesmerizing…. Until…

“Time’s up…. Goodbye Severus,” Voldemort said calmly, smirking cynically at his prisoner. The translucent pale skin where an eyebrow should have been was raised in concentration, and the bright red light from the skull charm made his eyes glow alarmingly red. Snape’s breath hitched in his throat, the silence in the room seemed to press on him from all sides. Waiting with bated breath for death.

Instead of the pain and cold he was expecting, he could feel his body relax and warmth flow through his limbs as the circulation returned. Nagini’s heavy form uncoiled and slithered across the floor to her master. Just then, the strong wind returned and blew open the thick metal door. What was that about? They weren’t really setting him free, were they?

“I want everyone to hear you scream.”

No, they definitely weren’t. Voldemort and the snake watched expectantly as the bright red light leapt from the little skull charm and floated through the air towards Snape, who was frozen to the chair in fear and anticipation.

When the light connected to the skin on the professor’s forearm, it was as if time stood still. The three occupants of the room stared unblinkingly at the orb. Then, as if provoked by an invisible force, the red light was sucked into the inky black mark that signified Snape as a Death Eater. The mark grew blacker than night for a moment, and then, it was melting into his skin. It blazed like molten lava, and the world fell away. All that was left was pain. White-hot pain that bubbled under the surface of his entire body as the mark was wrenched from his skin.

He screamed loud and uncontrollably, writhing madly on his wooden throne of pain and death. He felt as if he had gone up in flames that licked and tortured each and every one of his nerve endings. He screamed himself hoarse until a blinding white light saturated his senses, and he was almost able to catch his breath.

That’s when it happened. The length of his arm transformed into a large, festering, open sore that gushed blood over his legs and onto the dirty ground in torrential spurts. The Dark Mark was gone. The first time in over eighteen years that he would not have it staining his being, would be in death. It was the greatest gift Lord Voldemort had ever bestowed to one of his followers.

Drip, drop. The blood trickled down the hand of Severus Snape from the gaping wound and onto the floor.

Tick, tock. The crimson droplets taunted the dying professor- A makeshift hourglass counting down to the end of his life. The room spun around him as he fought for existence. His burning arm felt disconnected from the rest of his aching body as numbness overtook him. The end was close, he could feel it.

“Who?” Snape croaked out, his lids softly lowering from the effort to speak.

“Who what?” Voldemort snarled.

“Wh-who,” he paused when he was overcome with a coughing fit. Blood flowed from his mouth and spattered across his thighs. When he was able to resume speaking, a slow moving drop of the hot liquid was oozing from the corner of his mouth. “Who… will k-kill… themselves… for you?”

“Why Severus, I thought you’d never ask. Draco will of course, be taking up the position.”

“He… Would… NEVER!” Snape growled, his sudden rage urging him on his fight for consciousness. His godson was not going to be another victim of this sadistic Dark wizard.

“That is where you’re wrong. Draco will willingly take his own life, I can assure you of that much.”

Snape let out a breath that sounded distinctly like ‘bullshit,’ but also couldn’t help but to ask; “Why?”

“Because, he will believe it is the only way for her to live.”

No, no, no… it couldn’t be true, he couldn’t let it be true! He needed to escape, to warn them all of the sick and terrible plan the Dark Lord had underway. But he could feel himself slipping even as he thought it. He felt so tired, and cold. Every breath he took was a struggle. The blood filling his lungs coated his mouth with a copper taste as it slowly drowned the life out of him.

“You’re…. wrong….” He managed, smirking at the vile thing in front of him with something like triumph in his dark brown eyes.

Then darkness consumed. His lifeless body slid from the chair to join the pool of blood on the cold cement floor with a stomach-churning splash, followed shortly by a nauseating, final thud.

Lord Voldemort threw his head back and laughed maniacally, for a long, long time. The whites of the former professor staring blankly up at the evil wizard, his body unmoving.

Finally, when he seemed satisfied, he hissed in parseltongue to his pet, and the pair slinked around the wide circumference of the dark red pool, towards the gloomy hallway beyond.

He passed numerous dark and empty cells, and scowled inwardly. The cowards had all fled at the first sign of torture. Pathetic.

On he pressed, the darkness broken only by a few randomly placed torches hovering overhead. Finally he saw another life form. He was seated on a stone bench, his head in his hands, and his long, lank blonde hair falling over his face and onto his knees. Voldemort grinned evilly. Tonight was nothing short of perfection.

When the man realized he was no longer alone, he looked up, his mouth opening in surprise. He immediately leapt to attention and fell at the Dark Lord’s feet.

“Lucius, dispose of the mess in the end room. Discreetly.”

“Y-yes, right away my Lord.”


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Hundreds of miles away, Harry Potter subconsciously rubbed his trademark lightening bolt scar with the back of his hand. When the ache subsided, he turned over in his four-poster, nuzzling his face into the pillow. He was back to sleep within the minute without a second thought.






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*Listens to crickets chirping*
So do I need to sleep with one eye open tonight?

I’m just piling on the angst… I know… please don’t hate me. Err… ok so if I throw another baby in the mix would that make up for this? Triplets anyone!? No? Well it was worth a shot…. I did LOVE all the reviews the last chapter got, without them I think this one would have taken months to finish, but your enthusiasm for the twins thing really made me excited to continue, so I had to do it.

*Runs and hides*

Sherrithewriter- Shh!! He can’t do that, it would make things too easy lol!!

Veerie- You shh too! Geesh you readers are too smart for me. All I can say about the dream is, you’ll see ;)

Citten- It was nice to hear from you again! Hermione won’t remember what happened any time soon. I can’t really say more than that, mostly because I haven’t worked out all the details. But I’m getting to it I swear!

Camryn- Hermione was impregnated halfway through August. And if my calculations are correct, ‘Two weeks since they talked’ would be December 2nd. So she is like 3 and a half months. Still lots of time to go!

Ichiruki- hehehe your reviews always make me laugh. Yes I know I am an angst addict, but like you should talk missy! Lol. Where are the last 2 chapters of Not So!? To quote the Sandlot- “You’re killing me Smalls!”

ReiRei- Thank you! I feel so special that you like my story, b/c I love yours, even if your super fast updating and all the lovely smut is making me look bad, I guess I can forgive you : )

Everyone else- thank you thank you thank you!

PLEASE review with what you think. Reviews are my fuel and I think I'm becoming a bit of a review whore... 200 reviews is so close, and I never thought that would happen, but I think if I hit 200 I might do something crazy... So be kind and rewind...errr... REVIEW!!!! : )