Heir Of Voldemort

One year later - Book Seven in the Harry Potter Series (Title unknown - probably something like "Harry Potter and the never-to-be-finished Series". And no, I'm not at all frustrated by the fact she's changed the deadline for the release date of Order of the Phoenix by over a year...)

As I have warned in the chapters since Voldemort's return, things are getting rapidly grimmer and darker and generally a lot worse, as dear old You-Know-Who gets his powers back in full.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

_______________________

"I'm going out, mom!"

"Wait a minute!" Cassandra hurtled through from the kitchen to the living room, to catch her son trying to make an escape out the front door of the house. "You've been going out every night! Where are you going?"

Alexander shrugged and she could in his eyes that he was trying to decide whether to lie or not. "Bronze, I guess..."

Cassandra folded her arms over her chest. "Is this anything to do with that Buffy girl that's at school with you and Jes..." She froze, hand coming to her mouth. "Oh, Alex, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, mom," Her son tried to pull a brave face on, but she could see through it, a pang of guilt hitting her.

It was less than two months since the school term had started and almost exactly that time since Jesse, Alexander's best friend since Kindergarten, had...well, police reports said he vanished, but Cassandra instinctively knew that he was dead.

And what made it worse was that she had a feeling that Alexander knew something about what had happened to his friend.

"So you're...you're going out?"

He nodded. "I'm going to go see Buffy and Will at the school. We're doing some extra studying down at the library," The sceptical look on his mother's face made him smile weakly. "Well, Buffy's cute and she needs a study buddy to distract her."

"Now that's more like it," She gave him her best maternal glare. "And I expect you home before your father, do you hear me? That gives until at least midnight, which should be enough for studying."

"Thanks, mom!" He raced off out the door immediately.

Cassandra stood at the bottom of the stairs, near the front door, for a long moment, deliberating about what she should do. Part of her thought she should let the boy get on with it, but part of her wondered what he was really doing.

Unable to resist checking up on him - after all, she reasoned aloud, he has only just turned sixteen - she withdrew her wand and called loudly. "Accio invisibility cloak!"

Less than two minutes after Alexander had left the house, she was trailing him, concealed by the invisibility cloak that Ethan had got hold of for her, as a gift the previous year, just `in case', he claimed.

Much to her surprise, he did actually go to the deserted High school, although there did seem to be a strange number of lights on, considering it was almost eight o'clock in the evening.

Silencing her footsteps with a quickly muttered spell, she hurried down the corridors after him, stopping short in even greater surprise when he actually wandered straight into the school library.

"Hey, G-Man," he saluted the librarian, before dropping himself into one of the seats beside the table, which was - oddly enough - piled high with books and tomes that looked ancient.

The blonde witch outside the door almost cursed aloud when the librarian emerged from his office, another pile of books cradled lovingly in his arms. "I-I do wish you wouldn't call me that, Xander."

"Rupert Giles..." she breathed, her eyes narrowing.

How could she not have known about his arrival in Sunnydale? One of her lover's oldest former friends, he - too - had attended Hogwarts and had been one of the three Ravenclaws exiled from their world along with Ethan for their apparently harmless experimentation with the Dark Arts.

"Would you prefer it if I called you Mr-Watcher-Sir?" Alexander grinned engagingly up at Giles, but Cassandra barely noticed the grin, her head swimming with this revelation on top of the first.

Watcher?

Rupert Giles was a watcher?

Rupert Giles was a watcher and her son knew about it?

Clearly something had been changed in the whole theory of secret-identity.

"Just Giles is fine, th-thank you."

Cassandra jumped back from the swing door when she heard footsteps approaching down the hall, backing up against the lockers, as two girls came around the corner, talking enthusiastically about something.

One of them was Willow and the other, she assumed, was the illustrious Buffy.

If Rupert was a Watcher, did that mean this dizzy-looking, little blonde girl was the Vampire Slayer?

Certainly, it made sense for a Slayer to be on the Hellmouth now.

Since Voldemort's return, the dark powers seemed to be growing everywhere with his intervention, so it wasn't surprising that someone was sent to keep tags on the most powerful outlets.

But her? The Slayer?

Cautiously approaching the door again, she watched the girl swing up to sit on the desk beside the librarian's pile of books. "We're present and correct," she announced cheerfully. "Staked three fledglings before I got to Will's. Looks like a nest decided to turn a group and they were out for feeding time."

Beneath her invisibility cloak, Cassandra couldn't help feeling a little impressed.

All right, it was true, maybe the girl didn't particularly look the part of a warrior, but if she could identify the vampire feeding and reproducing habits like that, she had to be doing something right.

"You want us to bring back-up and popcorn?" Alexander volunteered eagerly.

"Popcorn?" Three voices asked.

"So we can watch her kick some more undead ass," he grinned. "It'll be better than the movies!"

Cassandra shook her head, wondering if there was anything her son didn't know about. She had raised him oblivious to the weirdness of the Hellmouth and now, he seemed more than aware of vampires, demons and the undead.

"You would be placing yourself in-in-in grave danger." Giles noted.

"Danger? I laugh in the face of danger!" he paused, then finished. "Then I run and hide until it goes away..." The two girls shook their heads and rolled their eyes in unison. "What?"

"Xander, you don't have to."

The boy looked at the Slayer, who was still sitting on the desk. "I want to," he said with quiet determination. "After what they did to Jesse, I wanna kill every goddamned one of them."

That answered the puzzle of Jesse disappearance, causing Cassandra's hatred of all things dark to increase once again, even though she had thought it impossible for it to grow further.

"Xander..." Willow tried to interrupt.

"Okay, okay, at least try to do something without getting killed myself," Cassandra recognised the puppy eyes charm he was trying on Giles and snickered at the thought of what the Watcher would say, if he knew the infamous Lord Voldemort's son was batting his long lashes at him. "C'mon, G-Man."

"I-I think I'm going to regret this..." Giles mumbled, turning and stalking back into his office, rubbing the lenses of his glasses vigorously.

Shaking her head, Cassandra Harris nee Bones made her way back out of the school and went home, leaving her son to fight - without any of her prompting - against the very arts his biological father was encouraging elsewhere in the world.

Sometimes irony was such an underrated word.

***

In the dank underbelly of Hogwarts, a pair of unlikely friends were working on a potion together, the younger of the pair still uneasy about being in classes with other people of her own age.

It was only the bizarre friendship she had gained from the man who was currently working with her that had prevented her from going completely insane.

No one but him and her youngest elder brother knew about the strange camaraderie they had.

How Ron had come to un-hate the Potions master in her absence, she would never know, but she had been as surprised as Harry and Hermione when Ron no longer joined in the communal bitching about Snape that frequently took place after the Potions classes, in the Gryffindor common room.

She was also incredibly relieved that he seemed to accept her, when she returned, just as she wanted to be: as Ginny Weasley. Everyone else in her family had tiptoed around her as if she was made of glass, but Ron...he had been the same as ever.

Something suggested that the enigmatic, dark, quiet man who had become her closest friend had something to do with both the way her brother was acting and Ron's sudden change of heart about him.

"How much of this stuff do I add?"

Snape gave her a long-suffering look, which raised a grin from her. "My dear Miss Weasley," he heaved a sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you that you do not refer to the specific substances as `stuff'?"

"It's the blue, powdery stuff," She held the bottle out to him.

"Can you not read?"

"Er...is that a trick question?"

"What does it say on the label?" he asked, turning his eyes back to the potion they had simmering in a small cauldron, over a flickering blue flame that he had conjured for the occasion.

Ginny looked at it, then at him. "I can't read your hand-writing."

With an exaggerated growl of aggravation, Snape whirled around in a fashion that would terrify any of her school mates, but Ginny just smiled as he snatched the bottle from her and scowled at the label.

The scowl faded and he started to chuckle.

"And I suppose," he remarked, trying to smother a smile. "That this is your idea of a highly amusing joke?"

"What?" She stared up at him, as if she had no clue what was going on.

"Professor Snape's naughty secret love potion?" He motioned to the large white label that had been stuck across the front of the bottle, complete with a pudgy cupid in a loincloth and little pink hearts drawn all over it.

"Is that what it says?" she gasped. "I didn't know you made love potions!"

"Miss Weasley, should you tamper with my labels again, I think I may be forced to give you another detention."

"But sir," Trying to look horrified, she gasped. "That would take me right through to the end of this term."

"And my evil scheme will be complete," He actually smiled when she burst into a fit of giggles. It was so rare to hear such a simple sound from the poor girl anymore, her own classmates - as she predicted - wary and frightened of her.

A knock at the door, distracted them from the little playact, Snape swirling around, his robes flaring around him in his usual, ominous fashion. Professor Dumbledore was standing in the doorway, his face pale and tense. "Severus..."

Ginny saw Snape's face go through a series of expressions. "H-headmaster?"

The older wizard's eyes flicked to Ginny, who defiantly moved a little closer to Snape, laying a hand on his arm. "We need to know if you knew of any plans of...of Voldemort's that were meant to come into play soon."

Snape shook his head numbly. "No...I don't think there was anything..."

"Miss Weasley, would you mind returning to your common room?" Dumbledore's tone was deadly serious, but Ginny could see that something had happened and that Snape looked like he was on the verge of collapse.

"No. I'm staying with Professor Snape."

"I would much rather you didn't, child," the Potions Master croaked. "I believe the Head Master has something he wishes to discuss with me and I don't want to cause you any discomfort."

"It...it was him...he's done it again, hasn't he?" The girl looked from one face to the other, a shiver running down her back. She was shaking without realising, her face as white as a sheet.

"Child, listen to me," Gently taking her in his arms, Snape stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. "Return to your dormitory." She started to protest, but he stifled her words with the tip of his finger. "Child, please. Your brother will be there and I have to find out what has happened."

Tears welled rapidly in the girl's eyes and it was clear that she had guessed - and probably very accurately - what might have happened, even if she wasn't sure of the specific details.

"Severus, perhaps you should take Miss Weasley back to her common room," the Headmaster suggested softly, as Ginny seemed to slump in Snape's arms. "Have her brother take care of her there."

Nodding, the Potions Master kept Ginny as they exited the dungeon. He could feel her tears soaking through the fabric of his robes, his arms circling her protectively, leaving her practically invisible thanks to his voluminous sleeves.

Reaching the common room, the Fat Lady spotted the shock of red hair against the darkness of the Potion Master's robes. "One of our little ones?" she inquired. Snape nodded grimly. "I'm afraid I'll still need a password."

"Miss Weasley..." Snape looked down, the only answer he received a quiet sob from the girl. "Ginny, child," She looked up, her dark brown eyes more haunted than they had been in months. Snape flinched at the sight. "We need a password."

"Ch-chocolate delinquent," she whispered. The painting swung open, revealing the round hole that led into the common room, the fat Lady still trying to peer around the frame to see what was happening.

Releasing his hold on her, Snape climbed through the hole first, all faces turning to him as he straightened up and glared around at them. He felt Ginny pressing behind him and emphasised his glare a little more.

Unsurprisingly, the common room rapidly cleared, the younger students gathering up their things and fleeing. The older ones tried to play it cool, but only succeeded in making it more noticeable that they were running away - only a little slower.

Looking around the room, Snape was immediately aware that there was no sign of the Gryffindor trio, as they were known.

"WEASLEY!" the bellow echoed off the walls and high ceiling of the room and the door of one of the prefect's rooms opened sharply, a red-haired head sticking out and looking around for the caller. "Down here, now, if you don't mind."

Looking puzzled, Ron ran down the stairs and into the common room, glancing at the empty chairs in wonder. "Blimey...I'll have to learn that trick. Maybe I'll get a seat if I..." He tailed off at Snape's expression. "What is it?"

The Potions Master stepped to one side, bringing Ginny around him to face her elder brother. Ron uttered a curse, opening his arms and gathering Ginny against his broad chest, hugging her tightly.

"I need you to look after your sister temporarily," his voice was a low growl, but his black eyes met Ron's and Ron understood that something was seriously wrong. "She became a little too overwrought to complete her detention today."

"Right..." The way the boy intoned the word suggested disdain and loathing, but Snape could hear beyond it and nodded gratefully, climbing out of the hole in the wall and letting the portrait close behind him.

***

"This is the second time you did not know, Severus."

His hands clenched together in his lap, Snape gazed back at the Headmaster. "You can't hold me responsible for this," he whispered. "I had no idea because he chose not to tell me...I cannot know everything that goes on in there."

"I am aware of this, but this kidnapping is more serious than the situation with Miss Weasley," Professor Dumbledore was studying a whirling sneakoscope on his desk, touching the pointed top with the tip of his bony forefinger. "Creevey was snatched from within the grounds."

The Potions Master's face drained of colour. "They wouldn't be so daring..."

"I'm afraid it appears that they would be," Dumbledore said quietly, his blue eyes weary. "You have mentioned that you believe they are preparing for an attack of some kind on the wizarding world?"

"It hasn't been decided upon yet," Snape answered. "Voldemort has often made it known that he wants to strike out at you, so this kidnapping could be part of a plan to reduce your reputation."

"And it appears to be working for the most part."

"But..."

A hand waved him into silence. "No, Severus, it's true. In two years, I have seen two pupils kidnapped by the Dark Lord," He sat back a little. "Many parents are growing sceptical of my ability to protect their young ones."

"No one could do a better job than you have," Snape said truthfully. "Voldemort only targets your reputation because you're the one he could never defeat physically, no matter what he tried. He knows that as long as you are protecting this school, he can not possibly take it under his power."

"Yes..." A tired smile reached the Professor's lips. He looked older than Snape had ever noticed before. "Yes, that's true," He sat up a little. "You know what I am going to ask of you now."

"If I can find out how and why the Creevey boy was taken, I'll bring the information as soon as I can," He started to rise, then paused. "Headmaster, could you perhaps take care of Ginny Weasley for me, in my absence?"

"Of course, Severus. It would be my privilege."

***

Picking up the phone, Cassandra said. "Hello?"

"Hi...is this..." On the other end of the line, the voice shaking. Young, female and sounded frightened. "Is-is this Cassandra?"

Sitting down heavily on the arm of the couch just behind her, a nervous sensation burning in her stomach, the witch swallowed hard. "Who...who is this and how did you get my number?"

"It's Ginny. Your...your friend gave me this...in case...P-Professor Dumbledore said I-I could use a muggle phone...I-I-I need to talk to someone..."

Cassandra's burning gut feeling got worse the moment she heard the frightened girl's name. "Ginny? Child?" She could feel her hands shaking around the receiver already. "What is it? Has something happened?"

"He...he's got someone else...he took them from the school..." Cassandra's eyes widened. A shaky breath was released. "I-I remembered everything...do...do you think he would do the same to them?"

"I don't know, Ginny."

"Professor Snape...he didn't know about it..."

"No..." Cassandra murmured. "He wouldn't. Voldemort knows what he's doing..."

She heard a muffled sniff. "Sorry I phoned...I just didn't have anyone else I could talk to about it..."

"Child, it's all right, really," Glancing out of the window in front of her, Cassandra sighed with relief at the sight of Alexander bounding along the path and towards the front door. "I don't mind."

"But you're meant to be hiding..."

"Hi mom!"

"Hi, sweetie," Accepting a peck on the cheek from Alexander, Cassandra smiled up at him. "Good night?"

"Yeah - we studied a whole lot in the library...or at least Willow and Buffy did," He grinned broadly. "I watched `em studying...Buffy is so hot when she studies..." He noticed the phone. "Oh! You're taking a call! I'll go upstairs, kay?"

"Thank you, Alex," Chuckling as Alexander raced up the stairs, Cassandra turned her attention back to the girl on the phone. "Sorry about that. Alexander just got home from the library."

There was a moment's silence, then Ginny asked quietly, "Is that his son?"

"That's him." Cassandra nodded, feeling rather stupid when she remembered she didn't have to nod on the phone.

"He sounds so...normal."

Recalling who her only son spent almost all of his time with, Cassandra smiled slightly. "I wouldn't say he's exactly normal," she admitted. "But I wouldn't change him for all the gold in Gringotts."

"I can't believe he has a son...I mean, You-Know-Who..."

"No, you don't. You mean Tom," Cassandra recognised the sorrowful, bittersweet tone in Ginny's voice. "You really loved him, didn't you?"

"I think so," Ginny sounded so forlorn that Cassandra just wished she could be there for the younger woman to help her. "But then, I remember what he said to me... what he did to me..."

"It'll get easier, child, I promise."

"But when?"

Cassandra sighed. "That's the million dollar question, Ginny. No one knows, but it does get better."

There was a long silence, then Ginny quietly said, "I should go. Thank you."

"Its not a problem, little one."

"Thank you anyway. Could I...maybe phone you again some time?"

"Any time you want to, Ginny."

"Thank you...bye, Cassandra."

"Bye, Ginny," Placing the receiver back in the cradle, Cassandra stared at the phone for a long time.

Now, she knew, instead of just having one child to take care of as best she could, she had inherited another from the same source. The only real difference was that this one was broken, lost and in dire need of a mother figure who had been through something as painful as she had.

Shaking her head, Cassandra had to smile.

It was absurd, really.

Her precious son, Alexander LaVelle Harris, the son and Heir of Lord Voldemort, Darkest of all Dark Wizards, was voluntarily spending all his nights fighting the very thing his father was building up.

In the meantime, the girl who was becoming like a lost daughter to her, was still suffering pangs of love - clashing with the hate she knew she should feel - for the face of the boy that had been before Voldemort.

"All I wanted," Cassandra mused, as she wandered through to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. "Was to have a decent, wizard husband, a nice house and a couple of kids to send to Hogwarts...and what did I get?" She switched the kettle on. "A drunken muggle husband, a demon-worshipping lover, the only son of the Darkest Wizard to ever walk the earth and a girl who was in love with the pre-dark-lord Dark Wizard looking to me like an agony aunt..."

Unable to withhold it, she started to laugh.

Yes, she was concerned about everything that was going on, but - by God - it was so bloody funny to look at her life and compare it to what she had written as her plans in her diary when she left school.

"Well," she chuckled, pouring boiling water into the mug on the counter. "I did say I wanted to do something interesting and you don't get much more interesting than my life." Sighing, she settled down on a stool by the counter.

Yes, it was crazy.

Totally and utterly mad.

***

Entering Voldemort's cavernous hiding place, Snape stopped short, bile rising in his throat at the sight.

So Death Eaters had been guilty of snatching little Dennis Creevey.

The muggle-born Gryffindor and his brother were probably two of the smallest boys in the school, Dennis marginally smaller than his elder brother. Despite the fact that he was fourteen, he could still pass for a first year.

That fact only made what Snape was seeing all the worse.

The boy looked like he had been severely beaten by the Death Eaters who were now lazing around the chamber, looking smug and pleased with themselves. He was curled in a pool of his own blood, on the floor, his face bruised and swollen.

From what Snape could tell, the boy was unconscious, which was probably a small blessing considering the mess he was in. The Potions Master was sure he could see a few wounds that could only be inflicted by a blade on the boy's thin form.

Urine had been sprayed over him, something that Avery and Nott took great pleasure in. What looked like dirt - but could be a less pleasant substance - was smeared in his hair and on his face, as well as some less-savoury looking fluids.

"Ah, Severus!" Lucius Malfoy's voice rang out. "I see you've spotted our Mudblood entertainment for this week."

Stepping down into the main hall, Snape was glad to be wearing the mask as Malfoy strode towards him. Assuming his Death Eater stance, he studied the boy. "How did you manage to grab this one without Dumbledore noticing?"

"We have my son to thank for that," The pride in Malfoy's voice was nauseating. "I didn't realise he had it in him, but he made one of the Mudblood's books into a Port Key and sent him here to us."

"Well, well...your son is certainly living up to expectations."

Malfoy nodded, practically vibrating with pride that his son had managed to do something Death-Eatery of his own volition. "Our Master is allowing us to keep him for entertainment for a short time."

"And then, death?"

"Severus," the mocking tone in Malfoy's voice made Snape want to punch him and hard. "You have such limited vision. Who better to take our Master's warning to Dumbledore and his filthy mudbloods than one of their own, barely alive."

"One of your ideas, no doubt..."

"Of course!"

The Potions Master was hard-pressed to quash a snicker. Snape knew for a fact that Lucius Malfoy seldom had an original idea in his pretty head, usually relying on his frighteningly imaginative wife to come up with plans for the Death Eaters.

"I suppose I'll leave you to your games, unless I am vitally needed."

"Always squeamish, eh, Severus?" A jovial arm was flung about his shoulder. Snape glared at it until Malfoy wisely lifted it away. "Well, I suppose it does give us more entertainment, with one less to share it with."

"Indeed," Turning, Snape started back towards the wall that served as a door.

Stepping through the black wall, he ripped his mask off and vomited violently on the ground, grateful that the hidden entrance was through the outer back wall of the Malfoy's country home.

As he did after every time that he was in the presence of the other Death Eaters, Snape wished that he had never joined them, wished that he had never been damn-fool enough to let Voldemort's silky words penetrate his ear.

Unfortunately for him, though, the mark burned into his arm reminded him that it was too late for regrets.

All he could do now was try and salvage some grace from his fallen position and save the few before many were destroyed.

***

Two weeks passed quickly enough, the Creevey family going out of their minds with fear for their younger son's well-being.

Despite Professor Dumbledore's reassurances that he would be found, his parents didn't seem convinced, on the verge of removing their older son, Colin, from Hogwarts despite his protest that he only had months more before he finished school.

So, when the boy did reappear, quite a few people were surprised.

Hagrid found him.

Bloody and barely able to keep himself upright, the boy stumbled into the grounds, when the huge Groundskeeper was on patrol on the outskirts of Hogwarts. He tottered towards Hagrid, grabbing at the part-Giant's moleskin coat.

His face was smeared with dirt and dried blood, his eyes darting in every direction as if expected someone to run out and grab him at any moment. A few cuts and bruises marked his cheeks and his black robes were torn and filthy.

"I have to see Professor Dumbledore," he gasped hoarsely, before keeling over.

Hagrid, without Ministry permission to do magic, was forced to resort to manual labour, hoisting the boy's form up in his arms as gently as he could, little Dennis's eyes staring up at him desperately.

"Please...I need to see the Head master..." he whispered.

"Righ', Creevey..." Hagrid nodded as he started the trek towards the school, trying not to jolt the boy too much. "Firs' we'll get ye to Madam Pomfrey, then ye can see Professor Dumbledore."

"No!" the shrill vehemence in the boy's voice startled the care of Magical Creatures Teacher. "I-I have to see him... have a message... told to give it to him... please... have to see him..." The speech seemed to exhaust the boy and he sank back in Hagrid's arms, panting and breathless.

"All righ', all righ'," Studying the boy's thin features, Hagrid frowned. "If yer sure."

His eyes closed lightly as he tried to get his breath, Dennis smiled weakly up at the teacher. "Thanks... Hagrid..."

Fortunately for both of them, most of the students were in their classes, so no one saw the enormous figure striding through the halls, a smaller one cradled in his arms like a baby.

Reaching the Gargoyle, Hagrid growled the password, ascending the long, winding staircase towards Dumbledore's office at the top of the tower, the door opening before they even reached it.

"Hagrid?"

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Bending a little to step through the doorframe into the room, Hagrid straightened up. Dumbledore immediately spotted Creevey, his body seeming to relax a little. "Found this little fella near the outside of the grounds. He wanted ter talk ter ye."

"Of course..." Motioning for Hagrid to place the boy in the large, comfortable chair in front of the desk, the Head Master came around his desk, carefully avoiding the pile of ash on the floor, which concealed the featherless and squeaking Fawkes. "Mr. Creevey?" The boy nodded, shivering. The Professor quickly draped a spare robe around his thin shoulders. "Perhaps you would care for a piece of chocolate?"

"Th-thank you, Sir," he whispered hoarsely, accepting a piece.

"Hagrid, would you so kind as to go and fetch Severus, Poppy and Minerva for me?"

"Of course, Sir," With a half-salute, Hagrid made his way back out onto the winding stairway, to follow Dumbledore's instructions.

***

"Are you all right, Ginny?"

The red-haired witch looked up from her homework at Hermione.

Since her `ordeal' as many of her teachers were prone to call it, she had been having private classes on a regular basis, which meant she was in the common room on her own while the rest of her year group were in class.

"I'm okay," She tried to smile, but had the distinct feeling that Hermione could see right through it. "I-I...I'm just working on Arithmancy..." She pointed down at the scroll in front of her.

"Oh! That's my favourite subject," Like Ron, Hermione was one of the few people who still treated her like a normal human being, as opposed to some kind of fragile object to be treated with care. "Can I see what you're working on?"

Nodding, Ginny managed a genuine smile as the frighteningly smart Head Girl sat down beside her at the small, round table and she started pointing out where she was having trouble.

"I can see why you'd have problems here," Hemione agreed, grabbing an ink-free quill and pointing out some of the equations. "You see here, you've taken too much from this side..." Her words trailed off, as she glanced at the window. "What the...?"

Ginny looked up from her scrolls, confused, as Hermione scrambled to her feet and ran to the window of the common room. "What is it?"

The Head Girl turned sharply. "You stay here, Ginny," she ordered sharply, her face pale, her voice clipped. "I need to go and see Professor Dumbledore."

"But what is...?"

"Stay here!" Hermione called back, as she scrambled out of the portrait hole.

***

"Ah, Professor Snape!" Halfway down the corridor, on the way to the dungeons, Snape turned at Hagrid's voice mentally sighing.

The last time Hagrid had talked to him, he had ended up with a broken tooth after politely trying one of the Giant's rock cakes. It seemed that no one had ever told Hagrid that you didn't actually use rocks.

"Professor Dumbledore told me to find ye, Professor."

"Oh?" Leaning back slightly to look at the taller man, Snape raised a brow. "And did he say what it was about?"

Glancing around to make sure none of the passing children were listening, Hagrid leaned a little closer, speaking in a low growl. "It's about Dennis Creevey," he said softly. "He's with Dumbledore righ' now."

"He's back?" Snape was torn between relief and shock.

"Yep. Found him meself by the Dark forest..." He nodded down the corridor. "An' now, I have ter go and get Professor McGonogall and Madam Pomfrey, so if ye'll excuse me, Professor."

Snape nodded, hurrying in the opposite direction, wondering what condition the boy was in.

After all, the last time he had attended one of the Death Eater conventions, shortly after Creevey had been abducted, the boy was unconscious, bloody, weak and - all in all - looked more dead than alive.

Nearing the gargoyle that concealed the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Snape leapt back in surprise as the Gargoyle sprang open of it's own accord, revealing the staircase and...

The Potions Master surprise increased tenfold.

Dennis Creevey flashed a wicked grin up at him, brown eyes flashing with crimson glee, then darted away.

"Oh shit!"

Racing up the winding staircase, his breath catching in his throat as he reached the top, he didn't wait to be invited through the open door of Dumbledore's office, running in and stopping short.

Dumbledore didn't look up.

His serene blue eyes were fixed on the large chair in front of him, his long fingers steepled in front of his chest. The expression on his face was one of deep sorrow and weary resignation.

"Headmaster?"

Still, Dumbledore didn't look up.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

Weak, vehement squeals from Fawkes, the Phoenix, were the only things that could be heard in the room.

His voice and hands shaking, Snape rounded the desk, kneeling down beside the Head master's seat. His fingers pushed aside Dumbledore's beard and he sought out the aged Professor's pulse.

Nothing.

"No..." Checking again, his breathing growing shallow, he shook his head. "No!"

Sitting back on his heels, his shaking hand slipping down to rest on Dumbledore's still arm, the other resting in his lap, Snape hung his head, tears stinging in his eyes, tears of frustration, shock and grief.

"What is it, Albus?" Professor McGonogall's voice sounded from the door and Snape lifted his head bleakly. The deputy Head Mistress looked at him in confusion, then seemed to identify the emotion in his eyes. "Oh God...Albus?" She ran to the other side of the desk, shaking the Head Master. "Albus? Albus, answer me!"

"He's gone, Minerva," Snape whispered tightly, staring up at her. Tears were rolling silently down the Potions Master's face. "He's gone..."

"No! NO!" Gripping Dumbledore's left hand, she shook her head. "No! He can't be!" Like Snape, tears formed in her eyes and were spilling rudely down her face. "He can't be...he can't...Albus...please..." Pressing her cheek against his still hand, she started to sob in earnest. "Albus, please...don't leave us..."

Swallowing hard passed the lump of granite that felt like it had formed in his throat, Snape rose up on his knees and lifted a hand to reverently remove Dumbledore's spectacles, folding them and placing them on the desk.

Footsteps clattered on the stairway outside the room, a third figure running into the room. "Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione Granger, panting and breathless, stood in the doorway. "I saw the Dark Mark over..."

She trailed off as Snape lifted his hand again and gently closed Dumbledore's glassy blue eyes, the twinkle that had always been there snuffed out forever. McGonogall's sobs were growing harsher by the minute.

When Hermione spoke again, it was in a very small voice, "Professor Dumbledore?"

Slowly standing up, Snape approached the girl, who was staring at the Head Master with the same incredulity that he felt. Everyone knew - or at least had believed - that Dumbledore was indestructible.

"Miss Granger," he said softly. "Perhaps we should inform the teaching staff?"

Brown eyes tore away from Dumbledore and the sobbing McGonogall. "He..." She shook her head. "He can't be..." she whispered, disbelief written on every line of her face. "He...he can't..."

Laying a hand on the girl's shoulder, he nodded sadly. "I'm afraid that he can be, and is, Miss Granger."

"H-how?"

Snape pressed his eyes closed for a long moment. "You-Know-Who," he said unsteadily, knowing that the devilish grin on the face of Dennis Creevey on the stairs no more belonged to the boy than the killing curse he had used.

"No..." As Minerva had, the Head Girl seemed to crumple under the news. Her legs dropped out beneath her and she sat on the floor, shaking her head, repeating like a mantra. "No...no...no..."

When the sob finally came, she buried her face in her hands and didn't fight when black-robed arms circled her, rocking her and a soft, silky voice - rough with tears as well - whispered soothingly to her.

Amid a pile of ashes on the floor, as the three wept for the death of Albus Dumbledore, a newly reborn Phoenix let out a single quavering wail that resonated in the air and vibrated through the very walls of Hogwarts.

That was the very moment that everyone in the school knew, somehow, what had happened.

For the first time in Hogwarts' History, there was absolute silence.

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Yes, I'm evil :-)