Dumbledore's Legacy to the Half-Blood Prince

Chapter Seven: The Phoenix Sings

All was gloomy at Spinner's End. The November sky was a leaden gray, and Snape's small home looked worse than ever. The low light even robbed the straggly Michaelmas daisies of their color.

Lupin had just departed via the Floo Network and Snape was still digesting the content of their conference. This was the first time the two wizards had met since discussing the Horcrux research in the Prince attic. The catalyst for this rare meeting was Snape's news of an opportunity to ambush Voldemort.

In twelve days' time, on the night of December 4th, the Dark Lord would be meeting with Snape at the old Riddle manor. Wormtail and Nagini would be present, as they always were. This would be a rare opportunity to face him apart from most of his Death Eaters, in a location that already had an Anti-Apparition Jinx in place. The Order of the Phoenix hoped that if they could corner the Dark Lord like a rat in his hole, they would have a good chance of capturing him - even though most of them had never faced him in battle.

Lupin had told Snape that the Horcruxes, save one, had all been destroyed in the last few months. "All except Nagini, and she is usually by Voldemort's side, correct?"

"Yes," drawled Snape. "I presume the plan is to destroy her at the last moment, then - at the beginning of the ambush. If she is killed before that, the Dark Lord might well become suspicious - and may even check the safety of his other Horcruxes."

Lupin agreed and went on to describe how each Horcrux had been destroyed. Snape feigned boredom, but was interested despite himself.

The Slytherin locket had been recovered when Harry and his friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, had uncovered a small wall safe behind a portrait of Sirius's great-aunt, Lycoris Black, located in a second-floor bedroom at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. They had used the Eporem counter-curse, which was designed to affect only inanimate substances, to destroy the locket's Horcrux. The released energy had unfortunately destroyed most of the second floor, but left the teenagers unscathed. Mrs. Black's portrait had been nearly impossible to stifle after that. Lupin thought the most likely explanation for the locket's location was that Regulus Black, Sirius's brother and a former Death Eater, had hidden it, but he was killed before he could return to destroy it.

It had taken quite a bit longer for the trio to find the Hufflepuff Cup Horcrux. Lupin related that Hermione was staunch in her belief that it would be hidden close to the scene of the murder of Hepzibah Smith, Helga Hufflepuff's descendant, while Ron thought they should search the Hufflepuff common room at Hogwarts. They had searched both locations thoroughly, finding only Doxies, Boggarts, and Pixies in the abandoned Smith house, and discarded Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and Honeydukes gumdrops under the common room furniture. Hermione had then showed her brilliance (Snape snorted in response) by brewing a complicated Finders potion designed to locate a transfigured object, using a few strands of hair found on a brush in Hepzibah's house. The potion's magical mechanism linked the rightful owner's essence to the hidden object. After the three had located multiple mouldy dog chews, they decided they must have used a dog brush by mistake, and tried again. Snape had smirked unpleasantly at this part. Granger was such an insufferable know-it-all; surely she deserved this small comeuppance.

This time Hermione was successful, and a piece of decorative tile engraved with an ornate "H" had shimmered into an elegantly turned cup with delicate gold handles. The only injury after using the Malourves Curse to destroy the Horcrux was that Ron's freckles were blasted off his face, and Lupin described how ghostly white his skin had looked. Snape pretended a casual indifference but inwardly he thought that this must have been quite an improvement for young Weasley.

The last Horcrux had been the most difficult to find. They hoped it would be the Ravenclaw bracelet, but had no idea of where to look for it. Ron, still stubbornly sure there had to be a Horcrux at Hogwarts, had suggested they search the Ravenclaw common room. It was difficult to find a day to search without exciting the notice of the very astute Ravenclaws, but they finally picked a Hogsmeade weekend and Lupin persuaded Professor Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw House, to close the dormitories and common room for a half-day. The time had nearly expired when Harry noticed a pretty witch duelling in one of the portraits hung above a velvety blue couch. She had a bracelet on her wrist, one with five small cameos, each an ivory profile on a beautiful blue stone.

Lupin's lips twitched when he told Snape that it had been quite an ordeal for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to persuade the witch to surrender her bracelet. She had moaned that it had been hers for over fifty years. They had finally sent their Patronuses after her. The stag and small terrier had cornered the exhausted witch by a stream, and the river otter had prevented her from even taking a sip of cool water. Only then did she relinquish the trinket. The destruction of the bracelet Horcrux was conducted safely away from Hogwarts, first using the Kralahl Curse to combat the protective Dark magic, and then the Despiritus Curse to destroy the bit of soul that the object contained.

As Snape sat on his threadbare green chair, alone once again after Lupin's departure, his gaze drifted over the sitting room walls lined with ancient, leather-bound books. This was his collection, started long ago as a student at Hogwarts. His mother had faded into death the year after his O.W.L.s, and he had moved from the Prince mansion back to Spinner's End. He remembered gutting the rooms before establishing his own style, or lack of style. It had been a painfully laborious task, and had necessarily been done the Muggle way. He remembered wanting to start from the bare boards so as not to have any reminders of his childhood. That sixteen-year-old wizard had craved his own space, his own safe den, away from the disapproving eyes of the Princes, and the mausoleum atmosphere of their house.

Snape felt a particularly satiny spot on the arm of his chair and looked down. The lacy upholstery had been worn away into a glossy sheen in a few small spots. The lace and the ashy-green color reminded him of a specific fabric that had been worn by a most unique individual....

... THE DARK LORD HAS THRICE SCARRED THE MASKED ONE... ONCE BY BLOOD, ONCE BY SHAME, AND ONCE BY SERVICE... IF THE MASK SHOULD FALL BEFORE THE PHOENIX SINGS, THE CHOSEN ONE WILL FAIL...

The words of Sibyll Trelawney's prophecy, the second prophecy Snape had heard in his lifetime, resounded in his head. He remembered with crystal clarity when she had said those ill-fated words. He could even remember the warmth of the evening breezes that night and the slight whiff of cooking sherry that permeated her robes embroidered with cheap lace.

It had been at the end of term last year, soon after the chaos at the Department of Mysteries and Dolores Umbridge's departure from Hogwarts. Snape had been hurrying back to the castle from Hagrid's hut when he nearly bumped into the newly reinstated Divination Professor. Sibyll had excused herself with an air of irritation and disdain when she suddenly stiffened and clutched his arm with a talon-like grip. The hoarse voice, so unlike her usual simper, issued forth in a string of jagged syllables. Then, ending just as abruptly as she had begun, she had softened like a limp clinging vine, pressing close to his black robes until her eyes found his with a far-sighted stare of surprise.

"Really, Professor Snape! I am a respectable witch! Just what do you think you're doing?" With that she had bustled away, giving him shocked looks over her shoulder and continuing to mutter her outrage.

Snape had stood there, slightly stunned, and then smirked sardonically to himself at the ridiculous presumption of Trelawney's outrage. As if! As he continued on his way, he thought back to the strange words he had just heard. Did they mean what he thought they did? Should he share this information with Dumbledore? His feelings were always so ambivalent towards the Headmaster: he felt gratitude for the position at Hogwarts and the great gift of trust, envy of Dumbledore's favoritism for the Gryffindor House and Harry Potter, and resentment for all of the times when he felt overlooked or unheard.

He remembered arranging a meeting with Dumbledore to discuss this new prophecy. Sharing did not come easily to him - he tended to guard bits of information as zealously as a Norwegian Ridgeback might guard her eggs. However, this prophecy named the Chosen One - Potter - and mentioned the phoenix - the Patronus and symbol for Dumbledore. And was he, Snape, the "masked one"? He had served the Dark Lord, that was true, and he did wear the mask of a double agent, but he was only one among many spies in this war. And what of the mention of "blood" and "shame"?

He and Dumbledore met soon after that, in the Headmaster's office. The students had already left and the castle was quiet as the professors tidied their classrooms. Dumbledore's expression had changed as Snape told him Trelawney's words. The agreeable wrinkles on the Headmaster's face disappeared into a harsh horizon, and the twinkles in his eyes were replaced by twin steel-grey thunderheads. Snape knew the Headmaster regarded prophecies as untameable creatures, incapable of being corralled.

"Do you believe I am the 'masked one'?" Snape felt a strange thrill to have been named in a prophecy, even as he hoped he was incorrect. "If so, how have I been scarred by blood and shame? Does that refer to my history as a Death Eater?"

Dumbledore paused, and then explained. "Severus, I have long believed your mother was affected in some way by Tom Riddle...by Voldemort. When she was just a second year - in the same House as Tom - she changed from a bright little girl, if rather too self-assured, to a scared, hunched little thing. Headmaster Dippet contacted her mother, but Mrs. Prince denied that anything had changed at home. I was Eileen's Transfiguration professor then and I have always regretted not paying more attention, but at the time I was focused on my elusive target, Grindelwald. If this presumption is correct, you were scarred by blood - your mother's blood. Voldemort indirectly affected you by harming your mother and thus changing her behaviour towards you. Now, as for being scarred by shame...I don't know. Is it possible that you encountered Voldemort directly as a child?"

"I don't know...yes, I do think I remember one visit, but it was quite short. It was unremarkable...." Snape's sallow face was furrowed with the effort to remember. He felt a little sick to his stomach, but pinned it on the slightly turned treacle tart he had eaten earlier, not on the memory he was trying to recall.

"Yes...well...that was a long time ago. You may not be the one in question, but I believe you are the best fit. According to this prophecy, it is necessary for you to maintain your cover until 'after the Phoenix sings.'" Dumbledore's face was knotted in concentration. Snape had the distinct impression that he was processing information at an impossible rate. He felt intense power radiating from the older wizard.

"And Fawkes sings...when?" Snape waited for Dumbledore's response with a pretended diffidence.

"At times of great opportunity, great crisis, or great sorrow. We won't know which, until he does sing. Keep in mind that prophecies, like any tool, can be viewed as a valuable aid or as a weapon. They are as bewitching as quicksilver and can easily be as poisonous. A Blast-Ended Skrewt is no more dangerous than a Puffskein compared to a prophecy."

Snape felt impatient that the Headmaster did not think highly enough of him to know that he already knew this. "Yes, yes, but still, it is just a set of words, there for the two of us to use only if we choose."

"True, but the true danger of a prophecy lies in the minds of those who hear it, who act upon it, who believe in it. Severus, I have heard your poetic description of potions: 'bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.' That is just a taste on the tongue compared to the gluttonous lure of a prophecy. Of the few prophecies that are known, most have ended in tragedy. And all have proved true, so far. The question is this...did they come true because they were believed to be true and acted upon - whether desired or feared - or were they true independent of the listener? Is it possible to know something and yet not act on it? To resist the influence of predestination on your choices? To, in fact, act as though you had never heard the prophecy? That is a question for wiser men than I, Severus. I only know that I know virtually nothing about prophecies, save that they may be the most deadly things of all."

"What do we do, then? Should I never have brought it to your attention?" Snape understood the Headmaster's concerns, but at the same time was slightly annoyed that he seemed to have done the wrong thing again. Instead of credit, he was receiving criticism.

Dumbledore looked up and smiled at him. He waved his hand in an amiable manner and said, "No, no, you did the right thing. Forgive the ramblings of an old man."

Snape saw through the self-deprecating words. He knew the Headmaster was unrivalled in power and knowledge, except perhaps by the Dark Lord. He had seen Dumbledore's raw power overwhelm wizards as though they were mere paper dolls. The Headmaster's mind was like a magnifying glass in its ability to focus elemental magic. The times Snape had seen or heard about Dumbledore in action had become stories of legend. He had defeated Grindelwald, the Dark wizard who had held the world in a stranglehold of fear for decades. He had battled spectacularly with Voldemort and his Death Eaters during the first war. He had effortlessly captured an entire group of Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic, and had successfully fought off the Dark Lord. Most recently, he had rescued Umbridge from the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest with his usual grace and calm.

After that conversation with Dumbledore, all had seemed to return to normal. Snape packed up his few possessions the next day and Disapparated to Spinner's End for the summer as soon as he stepped outside the Hogwarts gates. However, the usual peaceful days of summer study and preparation of potions that he packaged and sold to certain shops in Diagon Alley were interrupted, first by a repellent guest - Wormtail. It was supposedly a punishment for Wormtail, but it seemed to be the opposite for Snape. The quiet of his days was ruined by the scurrying presence of the small, sullen wizard. Second, there was the continued responsibility of attending meetings for both the Order and the Dark Lord. These meetings were occurring more often now that the war was in full swing. Third was the little matter of Dumbledore's injury to his left hand. Dumbledore had refused to tell him very much, save that it was from a Dark Curse, and said that it could wait. Snape was able to stop the spread of damage, but couldn't restore the flesh of the hand. Finally, late one night, there came a knock on his door. To his great surprise, his visitors turned out to be Bellatrix and her sister, Narcissa Malfoy.

Snape had heard the Dark Lord mention Draco Malfoy's mission, and he had a personal connection with the boy's parents, an old one from the days at Hogwarts. Narcissa and her husband, Lucius, had been several years ahead of him at school and were the first to praise the vehemence of his feelings towards James Potter and his friends. Snape believed he would be in a good position to protect Draco and persuade him of his foolishness; besides, he couldn't stand Bellatrix. The loud witch had always been a thorn in his side, hungry for excitement, but not always particular about where it came from. Snape had carefully hidden his smugness after debating her into silence on the night of her visit, but his victory was short-lived.

The third part of the Unbreakable Vow caught him off-guard. His hand twitched with the surprise of it and he almost broke the bond, but the prophecy was ringing in his ears...a detestable smile began to reappear on Bellatrix's face...and the frustration of always having to dissect every choice exploded into an unreasonable rejection of Dumbledore's caution. Snape said, "I will," for the third time.

Telling Dumbledore about the Vow had resulted into one of the few times he had seen the Headmaster so angry. The Headmaster expressed his disappointment in Snape's choice and talked about his deep concern for his beloved school. He criticized Snape for his pride, fear and resentment, which all led to Snape's taking the Unbreakable Vow. Snape knew Dumbledore was correct, but he hated to be blamed and struggled against the acceptance of the Headmaster's words by defending his actions. It was a relief when they were interrupted by a visit from the new Minster of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour.

Snape remembered that last school year as a blur of activity and divided tasks. The Defense Against The Dark Arts position had been strangely unsatisfying. He couldn't understand it. Wasn't it what he had wanted all these years?

Potter was as much a tribulation as ever. He seemed to have gained a greater degree of arrogance over the summer, and even earned himself a detention the first day of class. Snape did not see how this boy could ever defeat the Dark Lord. Was Potter blaming him for Black's death? It certainly wasn't his fault that Black had decided to Disapparate off to the Ministry of Magic that night.

Draco's behaviour was a surprise. He had always been polite and eager to learn until he was given a taste of possible reward from the Dark Lord. Afterward, the foolish boy had constantly rebuffed Snape, as though afraid his professor wanted to steal his potential glory! Draco had refused any advice, and it was impossible to predict the next turn of his wild ideas. Dumbledore listened to all of Snape's information about Draco's movements politely but refused to discuss its implications. Snape had felt more strongly than ever that Potter was taking all of Dumbledore's attention away from where it should be - Draco, the Vow, and the latest prophecy. What did Dumbledore see in the boy?

Near the end of the year, in March, Dumbledore had finally talked to him about the Horcruxes and Eileen Prince's possible connection to them. Snape initially refused to go to the Prince mansion, but inside he was relieved that Dumbledore was finally sharing his thoughts. Dumbledore told Snape that he would need absolute, unquestioning obedience as this year continued. The net of the latest prophecy seemed to be tightening.

Then, on that last evening, Dumbledore had summoned him. This would be the night that he and Potter would go after the locket Horcrux in the cave. Dumbledore had told Snape that the Order would be patrolling the castle in case of trouble. Snape suggested that he be the one to go with Dumbledore - after all, he was highly skilled in both the Dark and healing arts - and Potter could stay safe in bed. Dumbledore had refused his help, saying only that it was very good of him to offer, and Snape's stomach, as usual, clenched in resentment of the boy. Their short conversation ended with Dumbledore's request that Snape stay away from any activity and get some rest.

Snape had still been in his office - he wasn't about to retire until Dumbledore returned - when Flitwick burst in, shouting about Death Eaters. He Stunned Flitwick without even thinking about it. It was obvious that the over-excited professor would only get in his way. He had to find Draco. Was Dumbledore back yet? Snape needed to be on his own, to assess the situation, to figure out what Dumbledore needed him to do. He should have been with Dumbledore in the first place. It was a surprise to see Granger, with Luna Lovegood in tow, right outside his office, but Snape easily got rid of them by asking them to check on Flitwick. As he followed the battle noise and ran down the corridor, he saw a couple of Death Eaters run up the steps to the Astronomy Tower. He remembered feeling the ripple of Dark magic like a current of water on his face as he also rushed up those stairs.

When Snape burst out onto the tower ramparts, he took in the entire situation in a flash and, also like a cosmic black hole, none of his reaction was apparent on his closed, immobile face. Time seemed to slow down almost to a stop as he reached the heart-wrenching realization of what all of this meant. The pathetic figure of the man in front of him was sunk so low to the ground as to practically be kneeling. As Amycus began to speak, Snape heard the softest of sounds, "Severus..." and knew it was too late.

He pushed Draco aside; the boy looked scared. He caught a glimpse of the two brooms, and guessed Potter must be around.

Unbeknownst to the others watching, some with impatience tainted with bloodlust, Snape was reading a series of emotions and images from the man in front of him. Snape's prowess in Legilimency was nearly as expert as Dumbledore's, and he now employed this skill to understand what Dumbledore was wordlessly trying to communicate.

Dumbledore's desperation was unmistakable as he reminded Snape of his promise to obey him without question - to do what had to be done - to maintain his cover at all cost - to beware the prophecy - to survive so that he could help Potter defeat their common enemy. Dumbledore conveyed his last request with the conviction that the time to act was now.

Snape looked into that familiar face, the eyes now a watery grey with pain. He saw the trembling of the limbs, noted the blackened hand, and refused Dumbledore's plea with a look. This was more than he could possibly be expected to do - more than anyone could do - and still maintain his sanity. Dumbledore had saved him from the Dark Lord so long ago, only to abandon him now? To leave him to bear the brunt of the anger and hatred of most of the wizarding world? To be an outcast? He would be a hunted man, with no place to go save back to the Death Eaters. His love for Dumbledore (yes, he thought to himself with shock, it was love) joined hands with his fear of being abandoned. He continued to look at Dumbledore and again refused his command - his plea. He would not, and could not, end Dumbledore's life. This was too much to ask of him. Was he just a tool to discard after a messy task? Snape's face contorted with revulsion for what he was being asked to do.

This complicated wordless exchange between the two wizards had taken only seconds when Snape heard Dumbledore speak again.

"Severus...please...."

Snape felt something tear inside his chest as his resolve gave way. His heart filled, his mind choked, and his face remained twisted with self-revulsion and hatred for what he had to do.

With a great reflexive swing of his arm, Snape pointed his wand so that it was a rigid extension of his shoulder and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

His words seemed to hang in the air as he watched Dumbledore fly over the battlements. He didn't waste a second to check the accuracy or effect of his act. Snape knew the Killing Curse had found its mark. He had been successful. He immediately pushed Draco out before him and called to the other Death Eaters to make their escape. Although he was normally accorded at least superficial respect from the Dark Lord's followers, even he was surprised at their immediate response.

His face tightened as he remembered Potter calling him a coward. This was the Chosen One? This boy was going to rid them of the Dark Lord? He was the reason why Snape had ended Dumbledore's life? Snape had just done the unbelievable, the impossible, the unthinkable. He wanted to shut the boy up so badly that he came very close to hurting him. If it hadn't been for the Hippogriff, he might well have.

After ensuring that the Death Eaters, including Draco, had Disapparated once they were outside the gates, Snape had also Apparated - to a spot a short distance away. He wanted to check for any continued activity or pursuit and make sure all Death Eaters had left the grounds, but needed to get away from the brute swooping overhead. As he looked towards the gates, with Hogwarts beyond, he heard a rare sound. Snape's breath caught in his throat.

Fawkes was singing.