When Living is No Longer Enough

Disclaimer: It's all in Chapter One...

Chapter Five


Severus muttered the incantations that would disengage the wards cast on the door to his chambers and wearily entered the room. Removing his notorious black school robes, he deftly tossed them onto the couch and sank into the old, worn leather chair that sat off to one side of the fireplace. "Incendio," he murmured, flicking his wand and bringing to life an array of brly cly colored flames to warm the cold room. Leaning back into the comfort of the chair, he glanced toward the cabinet that held a variety of liquors and tiredly shook his head. "Accio," he called out, summoning a half-empty bottle of Ogden's Fire Whisky and watched as it glided smoothly across the room to rest in his outstretched hand. Not caring enough to be bothered with the niceties of summoning a glass, he uncorked the bottle, drew a long deep swig, and stared at the remaining contents that swirled against the sides of the glass before finally settling. Although the bottle was made from dark emerald green colored glass, he could still make out the motion of the amber liquid as it swished from side to side in a circular pattern. 'Just like me,' he thought bitterly, closing his eyes and allowing his thoughts to drift. 'Surrounded by darkness while my attempts to break free of my confines lead me in a never-ending circle.'

His conversation with Miss Saunton had not gone well and he was beginning to believe she might actually comply with her father's wishes to join with him in serving the Dark Lord.

"Damn it all to Hell!" he exclaimed, taking another long mouthful of the throat numbing liquor. "She's no more than a child. They are all merely children with no concept of what such a decision will do to them. No concept of how it will enslave them to Voldemort's perversity, as they become nothing more than playthings to be used and discarded on a whim. No concept of how their actions will eat away at them night after night, robbing them of their humanity and deforming their very souls."

Suddenly he heard a 'pop' in the fireplace and looked over to see the bearded head of Albus Dumbledore calling to him from the flames.

"Severus, may I come over for a few minutes?" the Wizard questioned.

"As if my saying 'no' would stop you," he replied scathingly. "Oh fine, but be forewarned that my mood is something less than congenial this evening."

Seconds later, the Headmaster stepped out of the fireplace and brushed the clinging soot and ashes from the shoulders of his heavily embroidered robes. "I consider myself warned," he said with a smile. Moving Severus' recently discarded robes aside, he turned to sit and make himself comfortable on the overstuffed couch.

"I understand that you had a visit from Miss Saunton this evening," he mentioned casually. "How is she doing?"

"Not well, Albus," Snape said with a sigh. Summoning two glasses, he poured himself and the Headmaster a drink and recounted Emily's visit to the dungeons earlier that evening.

"She received an owl from her father this afternoon informing her that she will be returning home over the Easter holidays where she will personally meet with Voldemort and pledge her loyalty to the Dark," he said, summarizing his earlier meeting with the young Slytherin. "Needless to say, the girl is beside herself with worry, not to mention scared to death to go against her father's wishes. I fear that we may very well lose her, Albus, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it."

"Patience, my friend," the Wizard replied softly. "All is not yet lost and, while she does not wear the Dark Mark, there is always hope."

"Hope?" Severus snarled, his fingers tightening on the glass with nearly enough force to shatter it. "Hope alone will not save these children or the rest of us for that matter and it will certainly not win this war. And as for patience... suffice it to say that it is a virtue best left far away from the cold realities of this particular conflict. I may not be able to obtain information directly any longer, but I can guarantee that Voldemort is not stocking his arsenal with such useless weapons as hope and patience."

The Headmaster listened quietly to the young man as he sputtered through his tirade. The more Albus listened, the more anxious he become in regards to his friend's current frame of mind. He had known that being confined solely to Hogwart's grounds would likely cause the Potions Master to become restless. However, the bitterness and caustic words had become more pronounced and more frequent over the last several weeks and while most people would have written these signs off as part of the younger Wizard's unpleasant persona, Dumbledore knew better. He had known Severus for many years and had stood with him through many a situation. He had watched the Slytherin's quiet and aloof mannerisms during his student days and he had seen the desperate young man who had given up on himself the night he turned from Voldemort's side. A man who held no value whatsoever for his own worth and felt that nothing short of death would serve as penance for the dark acts he had committed during his youth. It was that very man that seemed to be slowly mergmerging in the Potions Master that Albus now called 'friend'. It was that man that Albus had hoped to never lay eyes on again, fearing that he might one day succeed in overtaking the person that Severus Snape had since become.

"Ah, Severus, you underestimate the importance of these 'weapons' for without them, we would not have the will to drive forward when times look bleak," he replied softly.

"Hmmf," Snape snorted, prior to emptying the remaining contents of the whisky bottle into his glass.

"We still have three months remaining before Miss Saunton returns home with her decision and may yet come up with an acceptable plan that will keep her from Voldemort's clutches," the Headmaster insisted. "In the meantime, I have come to speak to you about taking on a special assignment."

Snape eyed the older man skeptically. "What type of 'assignment' did you have in mind, Albus?"

"We have received reports that Voldemort is getting ready to make a very large move to accelerate the war, but we have been unable to confirm anything thus far. Meanwhile, he grows bolder by the month. Murders of Muggles and Muggle-born Witches and Wizards have risen dramatically and it is becoming increasingly difficult for the Ministry to predict Death Eater attacks far enough in advance to allow Aurors to intervene in time. I fear that you are correct in your assertion that we must take more direct action. As a result, I find myself asking that you lend your assistance, once again, in an area in which your talents are most desperately needed," Albus explained, watching the young man's face carefully for clues to his current thoughts and emotions.

"What type of help do you require, Albus?" the Professor asked stonily.

"I want you to devise and brew a potion, Severus. A poison, to be exact, that will destroy Voldemort, or at least weaken him enough, so that we may plan a direct assault of our own. Something that will aid us in gaining an advantage that we might make use of," Dumbledore replied.

"What you ask of me is near impossible," Snape sighed, spreading his hands in front of him, palms facing upward, in a gesture of defeat. "Voldemort has not only invoked ancient magic, but he has also cast so many dark spells and ingested so many different potions that he is as near to being immortal as he can possibly get without actually being so. Not to mention the fact that he trusts no one, so the chances of getting the potion to him are next to impossible and highly improbable at best. I may have once stood a chance of delivering such a concoction, assuming such a thing actually exists, but no longer."

"Nevertheless, we must try," Albus insisted.

Snape leaned forward and momentarily studied his friend. There was something different about the older man this evening, a sort of intensity in his voice combined with a steely look of determination in his eyes that contrasted to his customary soft tones and facial expressions. "Something has happened hasn't it?" he stated flatly, his obsidian eyes narrowing as he took in Dumbledore's stiff countenance. "Tell me."

The Headmaster dropped his gaze and momentarily closed his eyes, as if by doing so, he could erase the events of the evening and set things to right. "Harry Potter's relatives were attacked earlier this evening, Severus. The Ministry sent two Aurors to the house as soon as the alarms sounded to notify them that the wards around the area had been disturbed but it was too late."

"The condition of Potter's relatives?" Snape questioned, instinctively knowing the answer.

"Dead. All three of them were hit with Avada Kedavra. The Aurors managed to arrive before the Death Eaters could leave the premises and a fight ensued. There were casualties on both sides," the Headmaster related softly, a tear trailing down his weathered cheek.

"Who?" Severus asked quietly, knowing that it must be someone close to the Headmaster when he saw the lone tear trail slowly down the older man's face.

"Draco Malfoy was killed by one of the Aurors. A Prior Incantati of his wand proved that he was responsible for casting the killing curse at least twice," Dumbledore answered quietly, his voice filled with sadness.

"You said casualties, Albus. I am assuming that there were others?" Severus questioned, deducing from the pained look on the Headmaster's face that the answer would not be pleasant.

"Yes. The other two Death Eaters managed to escape but not before wounding one of the Aurors and killing the other," Dumbledore confirmed.

"The identity of the injured Auror?" Snape queried.

"Neville Longbottom was hit with several minor curses. He is currently at St. Mungo's and is expected to make a full recovery within the next few days."

"And the other Auror?" the Professor whispered hesitantly, growing more fearful of the answer as the stream of tears now fell freely down Dumbledore's face.

"Ginny Weasley," the Wizard whispered in despair.

"Potter's fiancée?" Severus asked, gasping in horror.

"Yes."


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


TBC: Well, it looks like poor Harry is having a really bad night. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and special thanks to those of you who have reviewed multiple times. It's always nice to know when readers continue to follow the story past the first few chapters :)

To those of you who have expressed an interest in following my original story located at my Live Journal, you must be a member of the Live Journal community (www.LiveJournal.com) and I will need your User name to add you to my friends list as the NaNo writing entries are locked. Regular journal entries are open to all and I am listed under the user name of JStockert.

~Jules