Another Dark Star

A/N: selected excerpts from Deathly Hallows included, belonging to JKR. Some verbatim from the book, some edited slightly. I do not own. (Clearly.)


Chapter 59


‘Potter was here? The foolish boy had come to Hogwarts, the one place the Dark Lord was guaranteed to look for him?’ Snape thought furiously.

Snape had been warned the boy might come, by the Dark Lord himself; furiously in fact. Snape supposed it must have something to do with reports of Potter’s daring break in at Gringotts. The only spark of hope Snape had in this heightened state of panic was that if the Dark Lord was that angry, the brat must have done something right. Potter was winning, against all odds. That made it imperative that he finish the job and Snape was prepared to do whatever it took to help him.

He wondered briefly if Sadira and the children were still safe, and whether they would know the sacrifices he was prepared to make for them. He pushed all thought of them from his mind quickly however, cursing himself for his weakness. He could not afford to be distracted at this moment, and it would not do for the dark lord to discover his worry and care for his young family. Cold confidence was the mask he had always worn, and his sneer slipped comfortably into place like a well worn glove.

Snape suddenly felt the burn of his mark and knew, cold fear filling him, that one of the Carrows had apprehended the boy and the Dark Lord was on his way there. He only prayed that he could find Potter in time. Racing in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower, he was dismayed to find Minerva in his path. Damn woman was like a she-lion with a wounded cub when it came to that boy. There was no way on earth that she would give him up. Snape hadn’t been expecting her to begin duelling him however, and she was fast for an old goat. He knew his chances were up when more members of staff arrived. He could do no more in Hogwarts now. Better to retreat, regroup and hopefully help the boy when he was brought before the Dark Lord, or sought him out. Flight was literally the only option now.


The Dark Lord had been disappointed that Potter had not yet been presented to him by his minions in the castle, but pleased that Snape had returned to him so swiftly and faithfully. He was furious that the teachers were mobilising against him, and immediately made an announcement, demanding surrender.


Severus ran, hidden in shadows, dodging curses and avoiding recognition. He had to find Potter, had to tell him what Dumbledore so kindly left out of his legacy; that the boy must walk to his own doom to save mankind. He only hoped he had time to make the boy see it for the truth before the Dark Lord found him. If only this were not a war zone, Sadira would have been much better at this. The boy may not always have liked her, but as an Auror he had respected her enough to listen most of the time. Occasionally, he managed to shoot a stunner at one of his compatriots, or shield a student; current or former. He saw the wolf, Lupin, battling Dolohov; Arthur Weasley not far behind him. Everyone Sadira cared about was on this battlefield and he could not save them all. He only hoped he could return to her himself.

He had just dodged a giant, when the bedraggled, wounded form of Lucius Malfoy loped towards him.

“Severus, the Dark Lord requires your presence immediately.” He gasped, as though in pain.

Snape’s heart felt an icy jolt. What did he want now? This could not be a good sign, not at this point in the battle. ‘I’m sorry Sadie, I could not do more.’ He thought dejectedly, without giving away his hesitance. He need not have worried as Lucius seemed to be distracted himself, scanning the battle scene for something Severus felt he knew what.

“Very well. Go Lucius, find your son.” He said, with something akin to friendly warmth. Lucius appeared surprised, but clasped his friend’s arm.

“Thank you Severus, and I’m sorry.” He nodded, and Severus knew that the Malfoys had defected in heart if not in deed.

“Lucius, if anything should happen, look after Sadie.” He chanced. The elder wizard nodded gravely.

“We Malfoys look after our own.” He insisted and ran off to find his heir.

Once again, Severus strengthened his Occlumency shields and set off to the scene of his near death experience, praying that his fears concerning that place were unfounded.


Severus entered the filthy hovel where he had twice been humiliated by Black and Lupin, his heart in his throat even as he concentrated every effort on his blank facade. His hair lay lank and grimy, with the effort of battle and his face was like stone, pale and cold. As soon as he entered the room, he was immediately aware of Nagini, now placed in a protective charm.

“You called for me, My Lord?” Snape greeted unctuously, silently praying for more time to think, more time to act.

“I did Snape, I have need of you a while.” Voldemort replied coldly.

“Is the matter of such urgency? I feel I would be better serving you on the battlefield my Lord, their resistance is crumbling...”

“And it is doing so without your help.” Voldemort cut in. “Skilled wizard as you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there... almost.”

‘No, not so soon. Please no.’ Snape thought quickly, panic setting in.

“Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him my Lord, please.” He pleaded desperately. ’Just give me more time, one last chance.’

“I have a problem, Severus.” Said Voldemort softly.

“My Lord?” Snape asked, hiding his fear well as the Dark Lord raised Dumbledore’s wand appraisingly.

“Why doesn’t it work for me Severus?” he asked, confusing his servant.

“My Lord? I do not understand. You have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.” Snape replied faithfully. ’Praise him, soothe him, buy more time.’

“No, I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand? No. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.” Voldemort said calmly, but his rage was palpable, radiating from his thin form.

Snape thought desperately, searching for something to say, anything to appease him, but drew nothing but blanks. This was too close, too dangerous and panic was trying to draw him into its grasp. He knew then, just knew, tonight he would not leave that shack. Tonight Sadira would lay awake waiting for a husband who would never return.

“Severus, do you know why I have called you back from the battle?”

“No my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter.” Severus pleaded. ’Yes, just let me find Potter, he needs to know his next move.’

“You sound like Lucius. No, the boy will come to me. But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable.” Voldemort said ominously.

Hearing his master referring to him in the past tense cemented Severus’ fears. He had always been destined to die in that place. For a moment he wished he had been mauled by the wolf all those years ago, then he would have been unable to betray his dearest friend. But no, he had been given a second chance. A life with happiness for a short while with Sadira. Two beautiful children. He had known love and that made the sacrifice that much easier to bear. If only he could just convince the psychopath to let him speak with Harry Potter, just one last time.

“My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. Let me go and find the boy...”

“I have told you, NO!” the Dark Lord roared, losing patience. “My only question now is; why have both wands I have used failed when directed at Harry Potter? My wand of Yew did everything I asked of it Severus, everything except to kill Harry Potter. Lucius’ wand was so weak it shattered, and so I sought another wand; the indestructible Elder Wand and yet it also fails me. Why does it refuse to serve me as it should?”

Snape knew then precisely why he was to be sacrificed. A legend of wandlore; the most faithful servant, the most cunning spy thrown away over a children’s tale. Even as he knew the stroke was to come, sure to come, blood drained from his face, his heart racing. Nothing he could do, the years he had played this dangerous game and words failed him.

“I think I have the answer, perhaps you already know it. You are a clever man after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant and I regret what must happen.”

“My Lord...” Snape tried desperately to think of an irrefutable argument, but there was none.

“The Elder wand will not serve me properly because I am not its true master. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine.” Voldemort said coldly.

“My Lord!” Snape protested in vain, raising his ebony wand instinctively in defence.

“There is no other way. I must master the wand.” Voldemort said, raising the wand he stole from his former teacher’s corpse.

Severus braced himself for a blow that never came, and for a split second he thought the Dark Lord had changed his mind. Then he saw the monstrous snake, still in its protection, looming towards him, enveloping him. He heard a hiss of Parseltongue and screamed helplessly as the giant King Cobra sank its venomous fangs deep into his neck. The weight of the cage was too much to bear, his lifeblood gushing out of him at rapid rate and he fell to the floor, trembling from his wounds. He tried desperately to press his hands against the gaping holes, stem the bleeding, but it was too fast, too strong. His hands instead found the thick silver chain holding Sadira’s cross.

As he lay bleeding, he thought of the two women who had influenced his life. ‘Forgive me Lily, I did what I could. I’m sorry Sadira, I love you, always.’

Suddenly he saw Potter leaning over him with an expression of revulsion, yet an unexpected element of regret. Trust the bloody boy to turn up when it was too bloody late! He grabbed the front of Harry’s robes, pulling him close. If he could just pass on the final instruction, all would not be lost. He concentrated all his energy and magic into sharing his memories, of Lily, of his true motivations, of Dumbledore’s secret, but he was becoming weak. His life flashed before his eyes, bad and good; the pain of losing Lily, hatred of James, and the sweetness and joy of Sadira, his beautiful children. Oh Merlin he hoped they would be proud of him. His biggest regret that he would ever see them grow.

Potter seemed to understand what he was trying to do, but looked around vainly until Granger also appeared with a vial. Hopefully the know-it-all would be able to help Potter stay alive long enough to do his job. Snape let go of Harry’s robes and curled his bloody fingers around the cross he wore, praying that Sadira understood what that meant; he thought of her right to the very end.