Hobson's Choice

'So you went to report to Voldemort after that.' It was a statement, not a question. There was a hint of steel in Aberforth's voice.

For a moment, Snape's eyes looked suspiciously bright in the light of the flickering candle. He shook himself, then brusquely replied, 'Yes, yes, I did.'

Staring hard at Snape, Aberforth wondered, 'Did you know then that the second prophecy was in reference to you?'

Snape grimaced. 'I did not know what to make of it at that time. It could have been the ramblings of a mad woman. It did strike me that she mentioned a raven - and as you and the order know, that was, is, my patronus.'

'But you never told Voldemort about the second prophecy.'

A short pause, then, 'No, something held me back. But I had no idea it meant Lily. You know I - you know we -' Here, he visibly struggled.

Eyes glittering, he scowled and barreled on. 'Albus must have clued you in. You know how fond I was of Lily. But after she married Potter, I kept no news about her. I had no idea she was carrying Harry Potter.'

Aberforth exhaled slowly and reached out a gnarled hand towards Snape's shoulder. 'So that was when you turned from Voldemort and sought Albus out. Is that also then why you went along with the Unbreakable Vow? That you thought you could force fate and vanquish Voldemort by sacrificing your life for Albus's?'

Flinching from the contact, Snape only snarled, 'Damn you Aberforth! You have a penchant for the obvious!'

He ran a frustrated hand through his limp black hair and then went on in quieter tones, 'But Albus wouldn't agree - he didn't think the timing was right, that we needed to uncover all the horcruxes.'

Aberforth squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, they were moist with unshed tears. 'You came to me to help you get back into the Order. Can you help us? Do you know anything about the horcruxes?'

Snape nodded sharply and leaned towards Aberforth. Pressing a bit of parchment into Aberforth's hands, he breathed, 'Read this once, slowly. It'll burn once you're done. Commit it to memory and show it to the werewolf. He'll know what needs to be done.'

Abruptly, he stood up, and pushed back his chair. 'I must go to Voldemort now. I trust that you will help me convince the Order.' Without a backward glance at Aberforth, he spun around, his long black robe billowing behind him. Another crack, and he was gone.

The silence that followed was absolute. Aberforth's lone figure sat unmoving, the naked candle overhead casting his silhouette in deep shadows into the upturned stools.

Aberforth finally set down his mug, the single thud echoing hollowly across the chamber. He bent his arms and pushed himself off his stool, and took a moment to glance around the room. Slowly, he shuffled, towards a door hidden in the shadows. He unlocked its rusty lock, and with a clang that rang with finality, shut the door behind him. It was time to take the offensive.

THE END