Dumbledore's Legacy to the Half-Blood Prince

Chapter Eight: Snape Defeated

It was December 4th, and as Snape prepared for his meeting with the Dark Lord, he kept his mind calm. He would approach this night, the night of the ambush, with his usual unequalled competence and self-control. It would be such a relief to expose his true allegiance at last and be done with this web of deceit that threatened to choke him. The respect his position had garnered in the beginning now paled in comparison to the sheer energy it took to maintain the ruse. Soon, his obligations to Dumbledore would finally be over...he would be vindicated of any whispers about his past as a Death Eater and Dumbledore's killer...and he would finally be left alone. Ah, what wouldn't he give to be able to hide away in some safe hole - a comfortable, well-equipped hole of course - and be left alone. No maddening students, no arrogant colleagues, no duties; just peace and quiet. He knew he wasn't meant to be part of a community, comfortable with his peers. What did any of them know after all, with their self-satisfied little lives, their families, their friendships and loves? Snape's nostrils flared as his mouth twisted with contempt.

Remus Lupin was almost bearable, he had to admit, and Minerva McGonagall had always been fair to him, but no, he had neither time nor the least shred of liking for the rest of that ilk. Could any of them have withstood the Dark Lord all of these years? Did any of them have his skill in Occlumency, in Defense Against the Dark Arts, in Potions? The answer was a definite "no." Were he invited, would he ever want to join in their meals, their chats, their amusements? Certainly not.

And even if he did want to join them, they wouldn't want him. He was different, and he would always be so.

Snape brought his mind back to the business at hand as he pulled his stiff cotton robes over his head. The plan was that Potter would focus on Nagini as his first objective. He would have the Gryffindor sword as well as a wand. There was no precedent for the destruction of a living Horcrux, so he would need to prepare himself well. Accompanying Potter would be Granger, Weasley, and thirteen members of the Order, including Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Rubeus Hagrid, Alastor Moody, Minerva McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Aberforth Dumbledore, and Arthur and Bill Weasley. The sheer number of members was important, for the Dark Lord was an unpredictable and powerful enemy. The Order as a whole had grumbled mightily about the fledgling wizards facing danger alongside them, but Lupin had explained to them about the necessity of Potter's presence and Nagini's death.

Meanwhile, Snape would play a faithful Death Eater until the moment he was needed to show his true allegiance to the Order, no matter when that moment came. The Order had deeply mixed feelings about Snape. They had received Dumbledore's letter and been reassured by Lupin that Snape was indeed loyal, but they preferred to stay alert to the danger of actually trusting Snape. The memory of Dumbledore's death was much too fresh.

Lupin had arrived by Floo earlier that day, to tell him that Potter had nearly exploded with rage upon discovering Snape's involvement with the Horcrux research and the ambush. Potter had only agreed to come tonight under duress.

"I honestly can't blame Harry," Lupin had said, paying no mind when Snape sneered unpleasantly. "You've always treated him and the other Gryffindors horribly. Also - don't forget that Harry believes you wanted his parents' deaths...and he directly witnessed Dumbledore's death." Lupin had put his hand up impatiently when Snape began to sputter his indignation and continued to speak of the ambush plan.

Lupin related that the worry about the Priori Incantatem wand interference had been the subject of many late-night discussions at Grimmauld Place. Mr. Ollivander had finally been found labouring as a shepherd in the Anatolian Mountains, apparently under the impression that he was a Muggle. Filius Flitwick had lifted the Confundus Charm that had been placed upon him, but the wand-maker had one lingering effect from his sojourn - he refused to leave without bringing one of the giant Anatolian Shepherd dogs back with him. Ollivander said he had never known just how lonely he was.

As a result of Ollivander's return, Potter now had an additional wand: still holly and phoenix feather, still eleven inches, but the feather had not come from Fawkes. He had told Lupin that the wand seemed to work fine, but it just wasn't the same somehow.

As Snape made the last rounds to check his security charms at Spinner's End, he pondered all of what Lupin had told him. He knew there was no room for error tonight. The Order was putting all of their Gobstones in order; if this plan failed it could be a disaster for the majority of the wizarding world. Although arrogant and overconfident, the Dark Lord would not leave himself so open to attack again...and Snape would no longer be in a position to maneuver an ambush.

Snape Apparated to Little Hangleton, appearing just outside the Riddle manor with a subtle pop. It was exactly 6:50 pm, and he was due to join the Dark Lord in ten minutes. The air was freezing but aromatic with the scent of the cedars that lined the decrepit main drive; Spinner's End smelled like a refuse heap in comparison. As he entered the dilapidated house and mounted the stairs to the landing, Snape steeled himself for the upcoming meeting.

Nagini was waiting for him on the stairs and preceded him into the parlour. The Dark Lord was reclining on an overstuffed armchair near the weakly sputtering fire while Wormtail was standing near him, fidgeting as though he didn't know what to do with himself. As the short wizard turned to Snape, his beady eyes gleamed with reflected golden light from the flames.

"Ah, here he is, Wormtail. I told you that our Professor would never disappoint us!" The Dark Lord indicated for Snape to take an adjacent chair with a sweeping wave of his skeletal hand. Nagini hissed and coiled around a leg of her master's chair. Snape and the Dark Lord began to talk, while Wormtail sat nervously on the edge of a third chair.

The forceful entrance of the Order irrevocably fractured the quiet of the room. Shacklebolt came first, with Hagrid and Moody on his heels. Snape could easily see the red-haired Weasleys as more wizards continued to storm into the room. He caught a glimpse of a mop of untidy black hair and looked deeply into the accompanying pair of accusing green eyes. The boy had grown; he looked harder somehow.

The Dark Lord stood slowly, almost languorously, in response to the violent interruption. His hands caressed his wand and his eyes moved from person to person, gazing with amusement at each. "Ah, there you are, Harry Potter, good...good."

Wormtail edged behind his master, but Snape noticed that the odious wizard glanced behind himself once or twice. Strange. Nagini began to slither away, towards a broken heating vent, in response to her master's subtle direction. With that, Snape knew he had to act. Nagini was crucial to the success of this evening.

Snape stepped towards the snake, carefully keeping the Dark Lord and Wormtail in sight, and cast a binding spell to hold her captive. Silver light shot from his wand...but was deflected. Snape began to turn in surprise and was hit from behind.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

As his body instantly stiffened and he slammed down to hit the floor on his back, Snape could see a torrent of Death Eaters overwhelm the room. They continued to pour out of the small adjoining room behind Wormtail until the flood finally narrowed to a trickle. The last to enter was Marcus Flint, a look of fear mingled with excitement on his boyish face.

Bellatrix stood over Snape, leering with rabid delight and still pointing her wand. She was almost drooling in her joy. "It was worth all those years in Azkaban just to be here now, Snape! You are mine!" Without taking her eyes from his face, she lifted her shoe and ground its sharp heel into his palm.

"Bella!" The sibilant tone sounded like an indulgent caress. "Remember, you may have him only when I am finished.... Words will hurt him more - they will cut much deeper."

Snape couldn't see the members of the Order from where he lay, but he could hear some movement, including the wooden scrape of Moody's leg. There were urgent murmurs and a firm command to wait. He could hear Lupin's sure tone and Shacklebolt's bass murmur.

The Dark Lord - Voldemort - moved closer so Snape could easily see his face. The hem of his black damask robes was adorned with a pattern of tiny silver snakes. The bone-white face was grotesquely arranged into a gloating expression and he licked his lips as he began to speak, looking as though he was ready to devour Snape. He spoke as though he had all the time in the world and that he was determined to enjoy each moment of it.

"My dear Severus Snape...how the mighty have fallen! Did you really think I suspected nothing? Do you think I am a fool?" The casual voice had hardened for a moment into anger. It was as though Voldemort was torn between his pride in anticipating Snape's betrayal, and the anger that he had indeed been betrayed. Snape knew the pride had won when no Cruciatus Curse was produced. Voldemort placed the highest value on believing that he was in control.

"I kept sensing a flicker of something...not quite right...after Dumbledore's death; now you have proven me correct! Remember that no one ever betrays me, or leaves my service!" Voldemort's voice rang with triumph, and he looked up at his enemies arrayed against the wall. "Now, he has betrayed all of you - and you will each meet your death...here...tonight. But first, I want you to enjoy my little conversation with Severus. This is an early but special birthday present for me."

"Voldemort! Stop this nonsense. We have unfinished business!" Moody had clunked forward, wand raised. He was scowling with impatience. There was no hint of the prudence of caution.

A red flash streaked from Voldemort's wand, so fast it was a blur. Moody was lifted up and smacked into the wall behind him. A trickle of blood came from his mouth, and Tonks bent over the grizzled wizard to help him.

Snape's mind felt as if it was stuck in treacle. He tried to think of a way to release the Body-Bind, but his wand was lying inches from his right hand where it had clattered onto the floor.

In a tone of pure acid and revulsion, Voldemort turned back to Snape. "Do you think Dumbledore ever really cared about you? You have always been too soft - too weak - ever since you were a little boy playing with your...kestrel, was it? What did your dear, departed mother call you again...a monster? Do your friends know what you did that day, Severus?" Voldemort's tone grew more scathing as though he wanted to inspire as much fear and pain as possible. Snape's pupils dilated with surprise and shock. The ceiling above him seemed to start to spin.

"You can't even manage to set up a successful little party tonight for your friends. Can you blame me for thinking you are pitiful? You can't seem to do anything right, can you? But why..." the voice slowed to a drawl, "should I expect anything more from one who would murder his own sister...a defenseless baby?"

Snape's mind was reeling. He was drowning in his shame. It was true, everything the Dark Lord was saying about him. Snape watched Voldemort's hem slide over his polished boots as the powerful wizard took a step back.

"Now Bella... now you can have him."

As Bellatrix stepped forward, aiming her wand at Snape's head and beginning to form a Curse with her lips, the battle began. Snape could see some of it from where he lay.

Tonks immediately leaped towards Bellatrix and simultaneously cast a coppery stream of light at her. The suddenness of the attack caught the Dark witch off-guard, and she was knocked backwards away from Snape, hitting Fenrir Greyback full-on. Greyback's snarl changed to a grunt of pain when Bellatrix brought her wand down with a slashing movement. As Tonks and Bellatrix began to duel, Tonks skillfully maneuvered her opponent away from Snape.

Hagrid moved in front of a still-groggy Moody, blocking all curses as they ricocheted off his massive form. The half-giant held his trusty umbrella in hand and Stunned an idiotically leering Crabbe as the Death Eater attempted to reach the injured ex-Auror.

Potter immediately tracked Nagini, and Snape saw him locate the snake just as she vanished through the broken vent. Potter's spell to stop her was blocked by the brutal-faced blond Death Eater that Snape knew as Cecil Willards. Potter immediately cast a nonverbal spell at him, but Willards's wand only puffed into the air before returning immediately to his hand. Potter glanced down at his new wand with shock and then quickly sent a loud "Impedimenta!" at the Death Eater. This time he was successful and Willards stumbled back, falling over Snape. The cruelly grinning Antonin Dolohov now came forward with Avery at his side, and they cornered Potter behind a dusty settee. Ron Weasley, sporting a limp and bloody left hand, raced forward to help his friend.

The grey-haired Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge were breathing hard as they duelled with the older Death Eaters, Mulciber and Nott. They were putting forth a game effort but were slowly forced backwards when dumpy Alecto joined the two Death Eaters.

Confusion raged in the small room as members of the Order and the Death Eaters spread out as they fought. The Order was only slightly outnumbered by the Death Eaters, but the addition of Voldemort made the outcome tragically clear. It took at least three opponents just to keep Voldemort in check, three more than they could afford. McGonagall, Shacklebolt and Aberforth were all struggling to contain the Dark wizard, and they were beginning to tire. Sturgis Podmore and Hestia Jones were exhibiting tremendous stamina and coordination as they protected the backs of these three laboring wizards, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Rosier was somehow able to slip a curse in between the two and hit Shacklebolt on his right shoulder. The ebony-skinned Auror grunted in pain and changed his wand to the left hand to continue fighting.

Bill Weasley was fighting with Greyback now and had a determined look on his face. After singing the bestial Death Eater's hair with a jinx, he violently Stunned him into an unconscious mass on the floor. He strode toward the fallen Greyback with a look of fury on his face, but his father yelled, "Leave him! Help the others!"

One of the Death Eaters, Amycus, was hit by a stray curse from Yaxley, but another, Travers, had immediately taken his place in duelling with Arthur Weasley. The Death Eaters had two other advantages in addition to their numbers: they didn't care who they hit, and they weren't averse to using Unforgivable Curses.

Snape had been bruised when a few people had inadvertently fallen on him, but was otherwise unharmed until he absorbed a stray Impediment Jinx and was slammed into a corner. He was now in a position to watch all of the action. He could see that the Order was being overrun and slowly forced into a defensive ring. Most were still fighting but at an impaired level - Moody was trying to force himself to his feet, Shacklebolt's right arm was dangling uselessly, Hagrid was staggering, and the older wizards were wheezing audibly as they defended themselves. Potter looked as though he wanted to throw his unpredictable wand a million miles away. He had tried to maneuver towards Bellatrix several times but was blocked at every turn; Snape could see Potter's eyes narrow into slits of rage every time he looked at the maniacal witch. All three of the youngest wizards were white-faced as they continued to fight. The Order was now trapped, unable to Disapparate or get to a door to escape. The Death Eaters were everywhere.

Tonks had just blocked two Cruciatus Curses in a row from Bellatrix, looking as though she couldn't hold on much longer, and the situation was desperate. The thuds of bodies being knocked down, screams of pain, and roared curses were deafening, and these battle sounds completely disguised a new noise.

Crack! Crack!

Snape saw Potter look down and then crouch in order to talk to one of two small house-elves. He recognized one of them, the green-eyed Dobby from Hogwarts. Young Weasley's face lightened with hope and he signalled to the others. Potter looked across the room to locate Snape and then back at Lupin. Moody's face darkened and he muttered something at Lupin, but Granger's expression changed to the determined one Snape remembered from Potions class. The bushy-haired teenager gestured towards Snape, and Potter nodded.

"Ehhh!" Jones made a sound as she was hit, and Podmore grabbed her as she slumped unconsciously. As though her grunt were a signal, the entire cluster of Order members began to move across the floor, except for those still duelling Voldemort. The circle of wizards continued to make the strange cohesive movements again and again. Snape finally realized they were coming towards him...for him. A tiny flame of hope was doused almost immediately by the shame of failure - and his wish to be left to die.

As they reached Snape and spread out to surround him, McGonagall, Shacklebolt, Aberforth and Bill Weasley peeled off from Voldemort to join them. Voldemort immediately brought up his wand and sent a green Killing Curse after them, but Lupin miraculously blocked it with a conjured shield. The Avada Kedavra curse dented the thick bronze shield with tremendous force, causing Lupin to stagger backwards. Moody shot a surprised look at Lupin - this was no ordinary magic.

Snape felt a tiny foot tread on his ribs as he lay there amid the screams and chaos of the battle, and one moment later - with a Cra...aack! - he found himself in a quiet, crowded room. The house-elves had successfully formed an unbroken chain and Apparated all of them to the Burrow.

The mass of bodies tumbled over one another on the carpeted floor. Snape was left to lie helplessly until Arthur Weasley cast a quick "Finite." The ex-Professor stiffly pushed himself into a sitting position. He found his wand in his pocket and assumed one of the elves had recovered it. As he looked around at the Weasleys' living room, he realized the house-elves weren't able to Apparate them to Grimmauld Place because of its new Fidelius Charm, cast by McGonagall several months before. Most of the Order were now grouped around the two beaming creatures and were praising them in deeply grateful and astonished voices. Tears were glistening in Molly Weasley's eyes as she thanked the house-elves in a trembling voice.

"Is no trouble...no trouble...Winky and Dobby knew you were with bad wizards, very bad wizards, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...Dobby would do anything for Harry Potter...Dobby misses Professor Dumbledore." Dobby wiped a tear from one of his large round eyes, and Winky nodded in agreement.

Most of the members of the Order were deeply shaken but had no life-threatening injuries. McGonagall, Podmore and Molly Weasley healed a series of cuts and scrapes and lifted a few hexes, while Lupin tended to Hestia Jones and Alastor Moody. Snape dragged himself into the kitchen and slumped onto a chair. He could hear the others beginning to discuss the events at the Riddle manor. Moody was muttering, "How could this have happened - the whole plan was ruined - what was he thinking - " before being hushed firmly by McGonagall.

Potter and Granger had followed Snape into the kitchen to prepare hot drinks for the Order. Working in companionable silence, they used their wands to heat the Conjured cocoa until steam was spiralling up from the mugs. Potter grimaced as his new wand splattered the kitchen worktop with whipped cream.

Before leaving the warm kitchen, Potter turned to stare at Snape. After several wordless moments, the young wizard shook his head slowly and left the room. He looked too exhausted to even speak.

Granger brought one of the hot drinks over for Snape. His black eyes were blank, and he couldn't even think how to respond to her. She placed the mug on the table, next to his hands.

Snape's mind was reeling with the confirmation that he was indeed worthless. He had now failed the Order, failed Dumbledore, and failed himself. He had always judged his own worth by his magical prowess, but he had lain helplessly on the floor during the entire failed attack tonight.

He not only failed to assist the Order, but he had to be rescued by them. He was the opposite of an asset; he was a liability. Ever since the first spell he cast as a child in the Prince attic, he had methodically built up a self-image based on his skill and his power as a wizard. It was the core of who he was. Who he had been.

And yet...yet he had been saved from the Dark Lord - from Voldemort - at great risk to the Order. What kind of idiotic thinking was that? Snape didn't know how to get his mind around that concept - how to stretch its synapses enough to understand. It was almost as if he was valued, even though he was of "no value" to the Order. His head hurt; it felt as if he were an exposed Flobberworm under a bright light. He was suffocating in his shame.

When Lupin came in, many minutes later, his presence thankfully interrupted the disjointed flurry of Snape's thoughts. He didn't ask any questions, as though he knew Snape wasn't qualified to speak coherently, but he did bring Dumbledore's Pensieve. Snape's head reared back in surprise, and he began to turn away.

Lupin's voice sounded gentle but hid a core of steel. "All is not dark, Severus. All is not lost...yet. The strength of the Order depends on self-knowledge - on integrity." He didn't ask Snape to cooperate, but simply acted as though the impending Pensieve trip was something they had already agreed to do. Snape finally acquiesced wordlessly by touching his wand tip to his forehead, withdrawing a glistening silver thread, and letting this drop into the Pensieve.

He was aware of Lupin's hand still grasping the collar of his robe as the two wizards found themselves standing outside Snape's childhood home on Spinner's End. It was a lovely spring day. There were cultivated patches of deep pink pansies in the well-kept garden, their natural beauty belying the ugly scene in front of them. Snape and Lupin watched Snape's father discard the dead kestrel in the dustbin, grab his crying son and move impatiently through the kitchen door.

After releasing Snape, Lupin began to walk around the corner of the small house. Snape followed him slowly until they both stopped at the sight of Voldemort leaning against a window frame and listening intently. Snape's mouth opened in surprise. He had not been able to fully reconcile Voldemort's sneers at the Riddle manor with this memory, until this very instant. The old belief of his guilt had been too deeply entrenched.

Voldemort chuckled to himself, lifted his wand, and cast a deadly stream of green light right through the glass pane. In the green light, Voldemort's face contorted - he looked almost insane. His face relaxed with a satisfied expression just before he Disapparated. Snape's face blanched and he staggered as he heard the unmistakable cries coming from inside the house.

Lupin once more grabbed Snape by his collar and practically dragged him up and out of the Pensieve. Back in the Burrow, Snape stumbled up the stairs and into the nearest darkened bedroom. He groped his way towards a bed and sat down. His head sank into his hands as he hunched down into a defensive posture. He felt broken and raw. Deep, painful sobs emerged as though they were being torn one by one from his gut. Snape gasped for breath, his hands clenching into fists. Tears streamed down his harsh face and dripped onto his lap. He keened, "I loved you so much, Mum, I loved you...."

Lupin studied this wreck of a figure and went to sit next to him, shoulder to shoulder. He said nothing. The light in the room darkened further as Snape caught a glimpse of Molly Weasley at the door, concern on her face. She ushered the others behind her away, stepped back, and closed the door.

Snape was suspended in a tidal wave of elemental emotions; he wasn't sure which way was up. Waves of intense grief and pain smashed into him with awesome force, keeping him off-balance. He relived the horror of losing his mother's love and witnessing the deaths of his sister and father.

For the very first time in his life, Severus Snape was free to experience his grief without the poisonous interference of shame and self-hatred. The entire basis for his Dark ambitions began to unravel, its center no longer viable. His very self began to cave in until it imploded with the energy of a thousand stars.