Harry Potter and the Headmaster's Pensieve

The air was thick with magic on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so charged with the energy of the many spells fired that it made Severus Snape feel as though he could not breathe. The crowded area seemed deathly silent, but it could have been the beating of his heart and the heaving of his lungs blocking out the screams he knew were coming from the students. His mind was on only one thing - getting Draco Malfoy back to Lord Voldemort.

The boy was a coward - something he should have realized years ago. He was a silly, stupid coward with far too much confidence, not to mention a disgustingly large superiority complex. The perfect example of a Slytherin, he thought to himself as they ran towards the gates of Hogwarts, approaching the makeshift headquarters where the Death Eaters had convened. It was the first time in his thirty-five years that he had ever thought of the traits of the noble Slytherins to be more of a hindrance than a help. If the boy had come to him at all during the year, perhaps the mayhem surrounding them now could have been averted. But no, his arrogance and over-confidence had once again placed his family in danger. He was perhaps the poster boy of what all Slytherins should aspire to be, but he was most definitely not a murderer.

The group was in chaos. Ignoring the shouts of their comrades, Severus grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him through the throng of people. Within moments, the two found themselves in the center of Hogsmeade. The scene there was no less chaotic, with the many residents shouting about the dark mark and scampering around to either get a better view or to flee. Severus was vaguely aware of Draco yelling at him, but the surrounding din was very effectively blocking out his voice. He turned to the boy, who appeared to be shouting uselessly, and roughly grabbed his shoulders.

"Apparate to Lestrange Manor immediately!" he bellowed at Draco. The boy's cheeks drained and his eyes narrowed as he was abruptly cut off by Severus's words, as though he was greatly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt him. The boy opened his mouth to protest, but Professor Snape cut him off once again.

"Do it now! There is no time to waste," he spat venomously at the boy. Draco looked as if he wanted to contradict him, but instead disappeared with a loud pop. Grimacing at the empty air where the boy had stood, Severus followed suit.

The view that greeted them as they arrived on the grounds of Lestrange Manor couldn't have been more different than the scene they had just left. A finely manicured lawn stretched up pristine, rolling hills to the base of a large, elegant manor. The moonlight reflected dazzlingly off the rich marble columns flanking the grand entrance, casting a blue-white glow over the entire front lawn. A handsome brick walking path wound from the blackened iron gates along the looping cobbled drive. There wasn't a breath of wind, and the glittering stars were shining brightly in the cloudless sky. The gate was open, and the manor would appear welcoming except for the fact that the most powerful dark wizard in the world resided within its stately walls.

Both Draco and Severus looked at the mansion apprehensively. Draco would certainly be punished for failing at his first task in the service of the Dark Lord, and Severus would also be punished for not allowing Draco to go through with his plan. Yet they both knew that their tardiness would only increase their punishments, so they made their way to the formidable entrance. Their steps echoed loudly in the quiet evening air, each step increasing the tension they both felt. As they approached the door, Severus stopped.

"You are, of course, able to do whatever it is you wish, Mr. Malfoy. I would implore you, however, to keep your explanation of tonight's events short and to the point. Any additional information you care to add may only incur more of our Lord's wrath. Your mother would not appreciate it if you were to be put in harm's way after the fight is over, when she is expecting me to be responsible for your safety," Severus said coolly. Draco sneered at him.

"I will tell our Lord whatever I wish," the boy spat. "He will know how you have repeatedly tried to interfere throughout this entire year, and then stole my glory at the end. It will be you that will incur his wrath, not I." Severus smirked slightly, but said nothing. He grasped the large iron knocker and pulled it back. Releasing it sent a loud, heavy thud against the intricately carved wooden door. It creaked open of its own volition, and the two walked into the highly polished entrance hall. The door closed behind them as soon as they were inside. The hall was dimly lit with only a few slender black candles, but a roaring fire could be heard crackling in the parlor to the right of the entrance. Taking a breath, Severus led Draco into the room.

The room was dark, except for the large fire in the hearth. Narcissa sat on a small couch, her hands clasped tightly on her lap and her eyes cast downward. Severus could see that she was shaking slightly. Bellatrix sat next to her sister, her arms crossed and her eyes boring into Severus's stony face. She wore a slight, malicious smile that was reflected in her dark, wild eyes. Her husband, Rodolphus, stood behind her, his bony hands resting lightly on her shoulders. He too wore a slight smirk that made Severus slightly uneasy. Wormtail was just barely visible beside a large, opulent armchair, tending to the long, venomous snake coiled around the base of the chair. Sitting in the chair, arms placed casually on the sides and eyes studying the faces of the newcomers, was Lord Voldemort.

"Is it done?" he asked in his high, cold voice. Swallowing, Draco nodded.

"The great, marvelous Dumbledore is finally dead? It appears that he wasn't quite as unbeatable as he imagined himself, doesn't it?" Voldemort responded, chuckling cruelly. "Yet, I sense, young Mr. Malfoy, that not everything went as planned. Tell me, what happened?" His piercing red eyes gazed at Draco, boring into the boy's face. Draco shook imperceptibly, but met Lord Voldemort's eyes.

"I had Dumbledore just where I wanted him, disarmed and beaten, when Professor Snape barged in and killed him before I got the chance," Draco said, his voice wavering a bit. Voldemort crossed his arms in front of his chest, but smiled cruelly at him.

"Is what the boy says true, Severus? Did you steal his glory, as he seems to be implying?" he asked in a slightly amused voice.

"Yes, my lord, it is. The desire to destroy him was far too great. Seeing him weak and helpless...I apologize to Mr. Malfoy, and to you for my indiscretions," Severus replied, bowing low towards Lord Voldemort. When he rose again, he saw that Voldemort's face was twisted into an even wider, crueler smile.

"Severus, are you aware that young Mr. Malfoy greatly desires that you be punished for your actions?" he said serenely, as if he were discussing the weather over midday tea. Casting a sidelong glance at Draco, whose expression was completely blank as he started into the fire, he smiled back at Voldemort.

"It does not surprise me. Mr. Malfoy has been quite irritated with me since we left the Hogwarts grounds," he replied, equally as casually.

"Do you think you should be punished, Severus?" Voldemort asked, with a slight edge of excitement in his voice. Severus swallowed imperceptibly, yet kept eye contact with Voldemort.

"I will accept any action you deem worthy, my lord," he responded calmly, bowing once again. He felt, rather than saw, Lord Voldemort's excitement as he stood up straight once more.

"I believe I should show Mr. Malfoy what happens when my supporters disobey my orders," Voldemort hissed, his excitement clear in his voice now. He rose elegantly from the chair, his long, slender form accented by the firelight. Severus lifted his chin, keeping his expression blank, even though he knew what was coming. A dark glitter filled the eyes of Lord Voldemort as he lifted his wand as pointed it towards Severus.

"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted, breaking the tense silence with his high, cold yell. The pain of a hundred knives, hot coals and brutal spikes sent spasms through Severus's body, yet he did not cry out. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, but as his knees began to buckle, Voldemort lifted his wand. While it had felt like hours of searing pain, Severus realized that the Dark Lord had been very lenient with him. He stood up straight once again, trying to conceal the shivers of pain still running through his body.

"Are you content now, Draco? Has your dear Professor Snape been adequately punished?" Voldemort asked the boy sardonically, the dark glitter still lingering in his eyes. Draco swallowed before answering.

"Y-yes, my lord," he replied, his voice quavering slightly. Voldemort walked over to the boy, lowering his head so that his nose was just inches from Draco's.

"Take this as a lesson, my boy," Voldemort started, his voice soft and dangerous, "I will not tolerate any insubordination from my followers, Draco. You have failed me tonight, and, instead of thanking the man that saved you from certain death, you have ordered him to be punished. You are weak and foolhardy, and your punishment will be far worse than anything you have seen tonight. In the past, I would have killed you regardless, because I cannot risk having such a weak member within my ranks. However, your choices tonight have given me a far worse punishment to lay upon you. Your life and the life of your father now lay in Severus's hands. Pray that he does not seek vengeance as you obviously do." With that, Voldemort raised one spidery hand to Draco, who immediately knelt down and kissed it. Smirking down at Draco, Voldemort raised his hand once again and slapped the boy across the face. Draco flushed, but did not cry out in anguish or rage. With the words of "be gone," from Voldemort, Draco and Narcissa fled the room. The sounds of their apparition echoed off the walls of the expansive entrance hall.

The rest of the group was deathly quiet and still, unsure of what Voldemort's next action would be. The Dark Lord resumed his position in the armchair, then turned to Severus. He studied the younger man's eyes, then addressed the rest of the group.

"Bella, Rodolphus, Wormtail - leave us," he said, never breaking eye contact with Severus. The three scampered out, but it wasn't until their rapid footsteps faded that Voldemort invited Severus to sit on the now empty couch. With a wave of his hand, the doors closed and locked, sealed with a strong Impeturbable charm.

"I believe you just saved our dear Narcissa quite a bit of heartache, Severus," Voldemort said silkily. Severus was relieved to see that Voldemort had tucked his wand safely back into his robes, and had relaxed his arms in his lap.

"That was my main motivation tonight, my Lord. She's been so fragile since Lucius was taken, and I couldn't bear the thought of her losing her son, too," Severus responded casually.

"Yes, you have always been taken with Narcissa, haven't you, Severus? You understand that now that you are in control of Lucius's life, you can easily eliminate anyone that might come between you and Narcissa, yes?" Voldemort asked with a slight smile. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"You wish me to kill him, my lord?" Severus asked. A tense pause followed.

"Alas, no. As much fun as I know it would be, we need his brand of insanity back in our ranks if we are to win this war. While I have no doubt that he will look out for himself and no one else, we need him here, believing that it is in his best interest to serve me. He has always been a valuable member of our little group, and I must say there are some members who seem disheartened at his absence," Voldemort finally replied. Severus nodded slightly, but said nothing.

"What will you do with the boy?" Voldemort asked.

"What is it you wish me to do with him?" Severus replied.

"Anything you like - he is your prize for defeating Dumbledore. I have no use for him - he is too young and too weak. He will only get in the way, and I know his well being is important to both Narcissa and Bella. I would ask you keep him safe, and out of harm's way. We may need him in the future. However, I do not wish to see or hear of him until he can properly kill an aged and dying man." Voldemort rose from the chair, and Severus followed suit. "I can imagine you are exhausted after this evening's events. Go home and get some rest. I will contact you when you are needed again. Would you like Wormtail to accompany you?"

"No thank you, my lord. I would prefer to not have him scampering about, begging me for information of the famous Harry Potter. The boy was equally as useless as Draco tonight, simply frozen to the spot, hiding beneath his invisibility cloak as he watched his idol die. Stupid, weak boy," Severus spat venomously. Voldemort chuckled.

"Now now, Severus, young Mr. Potter will be gone in due time. I will keep Wormtail busy this evening. You have done well, Severus," Voldemort replied, placing a hand on Severus's shoulder. The younger man repressed a shudder at the contact. He nodded, then pinched a bit of floo powder from the intricate mantle over the fire.

"Spinner's End!" Severus shouted, and the flames burned bright green. He stepped into the flames, and the last thing he saw of Lestrange Manor was Lord Voldemort's eyes, glinting evilly as he watched his protégé disappear into the fire.

The dilapidated house was in absolute darkness, the small fire casting a weak orange glow in the tiny, decrepit parlor. Muttering Lumos under his breath, Severus stepped into the room and brushed himself off. He surveyed the room, checking that he was absolutely alone, then made his way up the decaying staircase to the small study that was his only solace anymore. This was the only room he had put any effort into at all - the hardwood floors were secured and polished, the handsome desk had been stripped and refinished, and the windows were freshly sealed and surrounded by thick, rich velvet curtains. Severus collapsed into the stately desk chair and reached for the large bottle of brandy sitting on the pristine desk, pouring a generous amount into a snifter. Lifting the glass to his mouth, he gazed out the window. To his annoyance, he saw the pearly-white figure of a wolf floating in the air just outside - Lupin's patronus. He was tempted to just dismiss it, but his curiosity got the better of him. Sighing, he rose from the chair and opened the window. The pearly-white wolf pounced in, then stood obediently to Severus's right side as he shut the window snuggly once more. Returning to the chair, he waved his wand in the direction of the wolf. It bounded onto his desk, then transformed into a scroll of pure white silk. He unraveled it carefully, and saw it full of Lupin's tidy handwriting.

"Severus, I'm sure you can imagine the panic the Order is going through now. Losing Dumbledore, and you, apparently, has really left us in a state of chaos. There are members among us who are cursing your name now, saying that Dumbledore shouldn't have trusted you. With your actions tonight, I can hardly blame them. I must admit that I, too, was extremely angry with you when I first heard what happened. Yet, perhaps it's because I understand that people are sometimes put it to awful situations that they can't control, or perhaps it's stupidity, but I have faith that Dumbledore's trust in you was not unfounded. But if I am wrong, then so be it. Either way, I am sure that the Dark Lord will now know everything that you have the ability to tell him, which puts us at the Order practically back at square one. Oh, it will be difficult for us to put the pieces back together, but I'm sure you know we will. Whatever it is you've chosen, I wish you the best, and hope you've gone down the right path. Should you ever need someone on our side to talk to, without having to worry that you will be incinerated on the spot, feel free to send me an owl. Until we meet again, Lupin."

Severus crumpled up the silk, balling it into a tight knot in his fist. He reached for the full glass of brandy and downed it, reveling in the strong taste of the alcohol. He dropped the silk onto the desk, pointing his wand at the wrinkled fabric. "Incendio," he said in a hoarse voice, watching the note smolder gently into ashes. As it finally burned out, he refilled his glass and cradled his forehead in one slender hand.

Lupin had some nerve, assuming that he could send him a message like that. He had some nerve thinking that he knew Severus more intimately than anyone, and he had nerve thinking that Severus would come to him if he had truly not gone bad. But most of all, he had nerve for being right.

It had been the perfect plan of Dumbledore's, Severus had to admit. Dumbledore's excursions after the horcruxes the summer previous had weakened the older wizard far more than he cared to admit, and he and Severus had worked tirelessly to keep him alive for as long as they had. Severus of course had known what Voldemort had asked of Draco, and had relayed the information directly to Dumbledore, including the information that Voldemort had wanted to frighten Draco and have Snape be the one to perform the horrific task. The older wizard hadn't been surprised or alarmed by the information that one of his students had been ordered to kill him - merely determined to keep Draco safe from Voldemort and his malicious plans. They had hoped to be able to convince Draco to abandon his quest and go into hiding, but mid-year it became apparent that Draco would not open up to Severus enough to listen to him. It was then that Dumbledore had decided that the only way to save Draco was to die himself, and have Severus do the deed before Draco became a murderer.

It was a carefully laid out plan, one that Severus did not agree with. There had been no one in the world that knew what Severus had been through, no one that completely trusted him, other than Dumbledore. He had been a mentor and a friend for far longer than anyone else Severus had come to trust. It had been Dumbledore who convinced the young potions master to come back to the right side, to guarantee him safety and to trust him when Severus didn't even trust himself. But the role of a spy for the Order of the Phoenix had taken its toll on Severus, and his exploits with the Death Eaters and Voldemort had pushed him into situations that he had never wanted to be in again. Dumbledore had forced him to keep up his façade, but it was bringing out traits in Severus that he had worked years to destroy. Then, mid-year, Dumbledore placed an even larger weight upon Severus's shoulders - Severus was to kill Dumbledore. The older man was weak, dying, and wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway, he reasoned, and that way his death would be used for something productive. It all made logical sense, but Severus did not believe himself strong enough to kill the one person who had believed in him while no one else did. He had fought, argued and begged with the headmaster, but the old man was resolute. Of course, Dumbledore had had his way in the end. The old man always got his way in the end.

The realization of everything that had happened overwhelmed Severus. His confrontation with Dumbledore earlier in the evening came back in flashes of pain, memories he knew he would keep with him even in the depths of Azkaban, should he end up there. The sight of Dumbledore broken, dying, pleading with him to kill him was unbearable. His pained blue eyes had bored into Severus's black ones, sending him messages of pain and desires of death no matter how hard the potions master tried to block them out. He had wanted to flee, wanted to save Dumbledore from the awful pain he was going through and to find ways to heal his wounds, but there was only one plea swimming in his light blue eyes.

"Severus, please do it. Do it now. You are the only one strong enough to do it, and you are the only one I would ever want to do it. Severus, kill me. Severus, please."

The last two words had been barely audible, but they had filled Severus with hate. Not hate towards the headmaster, as many he was sure had suspected, but hate at what he had to do, what his position had forced him to do. He had to kill the last person in the world that he had ever wanted to kill, and he did. With a large swallow of brandy, Severus knew that he would never be able to forgive himself.