Variations

Chapter 9: The Story of the Spy

Severus Snape hadn't been there long, only a few days, not long enough to work up the time or desire to clear away the cobwebs and barely long enough to trouble with stocking the cabinets with any respectable amount of food. Less than two weeks ago, the latest of his and Draco's year long list of refuges had been discovered, forcing them to run once more. The Aurors were expending so many resources tracking the two criminals that it was a wonder they were holding their ground in the war as a whole.

After two days on the road, Snape and Draco had finally agreed upon a theory they'd been toying with for months: that by staying together they were creating more danger than protection for themselves, and they'd decided to part ways. Snape had taken up resistance in this shack, at Bellatrix's insistence, and Draco had gone to stay with his Aunt Andromeda, at Narcissa's suggestion.

Snape had lit a fire in the fireplace, not because it was cold, indeed it was warmer that afternoon than it had been in months, but because the struggle to keep the fire from escaping the broken hearth and incinerating the dusty and wooden shack was the greatest test of his mind he'd been able to discover there. Ordinarily in times such as this he'd content himself with creating some new and difficult potion, but he'd been forced to leave his supplies at his last place of residence and had only been able to risk Knockturn Alley long enough to replenish a fraction of them.

Snape had just stamped out a loose ember when there was a sharp rap at the door. With a sigh, he extinguished the fire and stood, composing his features and his mind as he stepped to the door. There were few people who knew where to find him and even fewer who would have any reason to want to, so he was not surprised to find Bellatrix waiting outside.

"Good afternoon, Severus, may I come in?"

"Would you like anything to drink?" Snape offered as Bellatrix stepped inside and made immediately for his lamentable sitting room.

"No, thank you," she replied, taking a seat. "I don't intend to stay long."

"As you wish," Snape replied as he sat as well. Her mind was as closed as his, whatever her business was, she didn't want him to guess it. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was simply hoping to check up on my nephew."

Snape froze, concern and fear coursing through him. Concern for Draco, and fear for himself. Bellatrix should have already been aware that he and Draco had parted ways. He mastered himself with difficulty.

"I'm afraid Draco isn't here," Snape replied, with the most dismissive air he could muster.

"I see," Bellatrix said with a look of forced disappointment. "That is unfortunate. Cissy's been very concerned about him, but couldn't come herself without risking discovery, so she asked me to visit in her stead."

"I understand," Snape replied. "But I can assure you that Draco is in very excellent care."

"Andromeda's perhaps?"

Snape paused. It was a possibility that he had supposed but never truly anticipated: that Bellatrix would know her sister, the one she considered a blood traitor, well enough to suppose that she might agree to shelter Draco. But if Bellatrix knew that Draco was with Andromeda, then there was only one remaining reason why she would have come to call.

"I must admit I was surprised to see you," Snape returned. He knew that a change of subject would not be enough to deter her, but the situation had suddenly grown much more dangerous for him, and it was the best he could do for the moment.

"Oh?" Bellatrix replied airily.

"Yes," Snape said, guessing at last where this was headed. "I haven't heard from any fellow Death Eaters in weeks. In fact, many said that you'd all gone to Albania to regroup."

"Is that so?" Bellatrix asked, trying to sound as though she knew of nothing of the sort.

"Yes."

"That's strange," Bellatrix replied. "I can't imagine why everyone would lie about something like that to a loyal Death Eater like you, unless...oh, Severus, how could you?"

And Snape knew, at last, precisely why she had come.

"Bella, you know I-"

That had been a mistake. Bellatrix's refined air disappeared almost immediately.

"How could you ever think you could fool the Dark Lord," she yelled. "You nearly convinced me the night you made the unbreakable vow with my sister, but not him, never him."

"Where are the Death Eaters, if they're not in Albania?" Snape demanded, growing worried.

"Yes, that would interest you," Bellatrix said with a horrible laugh. "They are currently gathering to learn the Dark Lord's plan. I must be leaving soon myself. You see, in less than an hour we are going to attack Hogwarts."

A sensation Snape had never before experience overcame him, settling finally in his gut. It took him a moment to realize that it must be panic, something he'd felt in others, but never in himself.

"More lies," be bluffed. "Hogwarts is too well protected."

"It used to be, but now that the old fool Dumbledore is gone," Bellatrix replied, and Snape, already distracted by his panic, found himself unable to control his anger as well. "The wards as they stood were barely sufficient to repel us, and today they are even weaker."

Snape stood, but Bellatrix blocked his way to the door.

"Why did you tell me all that?" Snape asked, knowing the answer.

Faster than Snape could react, Bellatrix waved her wand, and he found himself lying on the ground, frozen and disarmed.

"Because I intended to ensure that you could never leave this place. Crucio."

Snape had been the recipient of the Cruciatus Curse many times before, but never before had he experienced it without a single outlet for his pain. He couldn't scream, he couldn't move, and he was quite certain that if it didn't let up soon he would surely be driven insane.

But let up it did, and though Snape couldn't see Bellatrix, he could sense that she was disappointed by his reaction.

The next thing he heard was the squeak of rusty hinges as she opened the door.

"No need to get up, I'll see myself out. Good night, Severus."

So there he was, wandless, frozen, alone, and with a desperate need to get to Hogwarts as quickly as possible. Bellatrix had probably thought herself clever. Snape did not doubt that the Dark Lord had ordered his death, Bellatrix left him this way because she considered it a worse fate: to be trapped and forced to watch worst case scenarios play out in his head, to lie frozen until the Ministry finally caught up with him. She was confident that he would be unable to escape on his own, and she thought him the fool. Snape would have laughed if he'd been able to move.

The ability to perform wandless magic was rare among trained wizards, but far from unheard of. Lacking the raw emotion that often characterized the magic of children, wandless magic in adults was usually limited to the especially powerful. Snape's talents had never been in raw power, but in a disciplined mind, which had always served him well, if not better than anyone's magical ability alone. With a deep breath and a thought, Snape freed himself. He spent a moment in search of his wand, but Bellatrix must have taken it with her, so he resigned himself to one more inconvenience in this conflict and Apparated to Hogsmeade.

Scarcely even pausing to look around, Snape hurried down the path to Hogwarts. It was largely as Bellatrix had said: the wards had been lowered to allow the students to visit Hogsmeade and he encountered little resistance on his way to the castle. Even inside he had few difficulties: there were a few Aurors and Order members on patrol, but Snape knew Hogwarts better than he knew his childhood home and avoided them easily. By the time he reached the gargoyle guarding the headmistress's office there was no doubt in his mind that these people were about to be caught woefully off guard unless he found a way to get McGonagall to believe his warning, and soon.

Snape no longer knew the password to the head's office, but that hardly made a difference: he simply placed a hand on the gargoyle's hand and it stepped aside. He bounded up the stairs and entered McGonagall's office without bothering to knock. She was standing at the window, staring out across the grounds, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen at her school.

"Minerva."

McGonagall spun around, pulling out her wand.

"Severus," she replied, taking aim, though clearly caught off guard by the fact that he had no wand himself.

"Good afternoon," Snape said. "Or is it evening? In either case it won't remain pleasant for much longer."

"Come to kill me too, Severus?"

Snape flinched at the hatred and fear in his former colleague's voice then mastered himself again.

"Not me."

"What?" McGonagall stuttered at his unexpected response. "How did you get in here?"

"I'm not the one you ought to be worried about."

She had to understand, and she had to understand quickly, but she still seemed so convinced that he'd returned to murder her.

"Listen to him, Minerva," said an unexpected voice.

Snape whirled around and found Dumbledore's portrait almost immediately, a sharp pang in his chest. The former headmaster was watching them closely over his steepled fingers. Snape took much longer in turning back to McGonagall. Even now, Dumbledore was still defending him.

"Who should I be worried about?" McGonagall pressed, looking increasingly convinced.

"The Death Eaters who are currently gaining entrance to this castle by every passage they know," Snape replied.

"Both the Aurors and the Order have evidence that You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters are in Albania," McGonagall breathed.

"And who do you suppose gave them that impression, left the clues that led them to that conclusion?" Snape pressed.

"You lied to us," McGonagall said angrily, and Snape's attention returned to the fact that her wand was still pointed at him.

"I told the truth as I knew it," Snape explained. "The Dark Lord was in Albania."

Convulsively, McGonagall raised her free hand to scratch behind her ear and Snape knew what that meant. Dumbledore had once mentioned using a similar spell to warn him when unfriendly forces were crossing the wards around Hogwarts.

"It seems you have a fight on your hands," Snape pointed out.

"And whose side will you be on?" McGonagall demanded, pointing her wand at herself to remove the warning spell.

Snape didn't bother responding, she wouldn't believe him anyway. He simply turned and left.

As he descended the stairs, he heard McGonagall's amplified warning, "Students, report to your houses at once. House guards seal yourselves in ten minutes. Teachers to your positions. This is very real."

As Snape hurried on his way, he could still heard her words echoing around the castle, and when they died out there, they continued in his head.

Proficient though he was in wandless magic, it was really no substitute for a wand in a duel, which made his place in a castle where few people on either side of the fight trusted him quite perilous. It seemed a disgustingly Gryffindor philosophy, but he couldn't simply leave for fear of his own safety, so after considering several possibilities of where he could be most useful, he finally settled on checking on the students in Slytherin, quite confident that he would be the only one to do so.

Never let it be said that Slytherins do not look out for each other, even if it is often because they don't receive the benefit of trust from the other houses. Recently, it seemed that most people considered being labeled cunning and ambitious by the Sorting Hat equivalent to being branded with the Dark Mark, an unfortunate oversimplification. During his tenure as professor, students had always been quick to complain that Snape favored his own house, always blind to the fact that the other heads weren't so fair minded either, often reflecting a bias against Slytherins in their distribution of house points and grades.

Snape soon reached the entrance to Slytherin House and placed a hand on the otherwise unimpressive stretch of wall, once again taking advantage of the special arrangement Dumbledore allowed him to make should these exact events come to pass. The wall slid obligingly sideways under his touch and Snape stepped inside.

There were few younger students in sight, but several of the older ones had arranged themselves in the chairs around the fire. Most of them were fiddling with their wands or twirling them in a would-be idle way that was betrayed when every single wand righted itself in its owner's palm almost immediately after the sound of Snape's footsteps reached them. Most of the wands lowered when they turned and saw him, but the twirling did not resume. Snape was pleased: they would not have been Slytherins if they'd let their guards down at such a juncture.

Still, Snape knew he would have to tread carefully. These students might be more inclined to trust him than the rest of the school, but they were not Gryffindors, he could not count on cool heads. He didn't need to be a Legilimens to sense the borderline panic in the room.

Addressing himself to Pansy Parkinson, who, judging by her position of self declared authority and privilege in front of the fire, was still a Prefect, Snape asked, "Are all the students accounted for?"

"Of course," she replied haughtily, leaving the impression that her response would have been the same even if half the students in her house were in parts unknown, but a brief perusal of her mind revealed that she was telling the truth.

Pansy scowled, apparently having learned enough of Occlumency to recognize the intrusion, but said nothing on the subject. Instead she asked, "Is it Death Eaters? Are they here? And the Dark Lord?"

He'd been too long in isolation, Snape concluded as he was reduced to masking his disapproval of hearing the Dark Lord referred to as thus, and with such relish by a student, by turning to watch a third year's well-timed dash toward the dormitories.

When he'd once again mastered his features, Snape turned back to the students by the fire and responded, "Yes, there are Death Eaters in Hogwarts, and if the Dark Lord has not arrived yet then I have no doubt that he soon will."

Snape was once again surprised by the reactions of his former pupils, all of whom seemed interested by this news, even those he'd never known to show any inclination toward joining the conflict on either side. Banking on a guess, he added, "Draco is not among them."

His suspicions were confirmed almost immediately by the looks of disappointment on everyone's faces, even the younger students who'd begun to spill out of the hallway leading to the dormitories. Though Draco had never said it aloud during their time together over the past year, Snape sensed that his young charge knew he was a figure of importance among his fellow Slytherins, and that the impression was not entirely narcissistic. Snape had often caught Draco staring into space and gleaned that he was almost as concerned about his classmates as he had been about his family during his sixth year. However, Snape also knew that these Slytherins had been hoping to see a Draco who no longer existed, the one who thought himself prince of Slytherin, who would gladly best Potter in a match of wits, who looked like he would one day become a leader among the Death Eaters, but that had been a long time ago in the life of Draco Malfoy.

"Draco has concluded that he has no place in this conflict," Snape explained, realizing that some of the students had begun drawing rather dire conclusions in his silence. "Neither do you, as Professor Slughorn-"

"We haven't seen him," one of the younger students interrupted before being shushed by those surrounding him.

Snape sniffed, unsurprised. He didn't doubt either that any position Slughorn had been assigned to defend was currently abandoned. It was doubtful that the old fogy's concerns even extended as far as his precious Slug Club: if he wasn't barricaded in his office then Slughorn had almost certainly left the country by now. Still, Snape knew that this was not the time to criticize his replacement, so he rephrased and continued, "Tonight the Dark Lord's interest lies in Gryffindor, not Slytherin. If you remain here you will be safe, venture outside and you will receive no trust from either side."

"What about you, Professor?" Theodore Nott asked. "Don't both sides feel the same about you?"

Snape was so surprised by the fact that the students still referred to him as Professor and that McGonagall's security measures had somehow neglected to prevent Nott from corresponding with his father, that he failed to respond before several echoing suggestions that he remain there were voiced, accompanied by a sudden and dramatic reduction in the level of fear in the room.

"Unlike you, this conflict does concern me," Snape replied, holding up his hands for silence and nearly forgetting to stop himself before he added that it was partially his fault that all of this was happening at all. "Furthermore, I concern the others in this conflict. Unless I make my presence known out there, one side or the other will come in here, looking for me."

No one argued, they'd already put their cunning minds to the task and drawn the same conclusion.

"Good," Snape finished, preparing to leave. "Eventually someone will come to fetch you. Do not leave before then."

Snape turned and made for the exit. He heard the students behind him returning to their former positions but also felt their old fear rushing back in and was suddenly overcome by something he was not terribly accustomed to: concern. At the moment, he was the closest thing these students had to a mentor, to a protector, maybe even, Merlin help them, to a father, and he was about to abandon them, just like Slughorn had. Snape nearly turned back, nearly promised that he'd be the one to tell them when it was safe to leave, or said that he'd reconsidered and might not be so dangerous for him to stay after all, or offer them some assurance or comfort, but the words escaped him and he continued toward the exit, his inner struggle only making itself manifest in a single missed step.

By the time he'd reached the hallway and the door to Slytherin House had closed behind him, Snape had chosen his next destination. He had no desire for a battle such as this to occur again and he knew enough of the prophecy to know there was only one person who could ensure that. So, though he had no real desire to encounter the brat, and though he knew the feeling was mutual, Snape resolved to find Harry Potter and force him into a battle with the Dark Lord.

Of course, Snape knew enough of Potter's nature to realize that finding him would be no easy task. It was a near certainty that he would not be hiding in his tower like he was supposed to, but also that he would, as usual, show no tact at all and risk his skin and the world's fate by doing battle with every Death Eater he came across.

Scowling at the thought alone, Snape hurried up the stairs to begin his search. Some huge battle must have taken place in the Entrance Hall since he'd last passed through: it stood crumbling and almost unrecognizable, but Snape didn't stop to investigate. However, his progress slowed dramatically once he'd picked his way up the ruined stairs because he was forced to hide from a number of passing groups from both sides. Two carefully chosen staircases later, Snape finally had the chance to present himself to a pair of Death Eaters he could have easily overpowered if need be, even though he was still wandless, and discovered that news of his true loyalties hadn't been given to all the Death Eaters, probably only to those in the Dark Lord's inner circle.

Now able to move much more quickly, Snape hurried around a corner and nearly collided with Remus Lupin. Lupin's expression melted from determination to shock to anger in the space of a few seconds and he leapt away, raising his wand, though he seemed reluctant to use it for Snape had no wand to raise. Ordinarily Snape would have thought this show of sportsmanship annoying, but he had to admit it was useful in this case.

"You're a better man than me, Lupin," Snape said, so quietly he could hardly hear himself, though Lupin seemed to gather his meaning.

"Still, I've lost four friends and you've lost four enemies," he replied scathingly. "If this was a competition I'd say you were winning."

"Not all of them were my enemies."

Lupin's shock was returning, his mouth forming the beginning of too many different questions for him to select one. Snape allowed him only a few moments of this, he had important business elsewhere.

"Where is Potter?" Snape asked.

"What's your interest in him?" Lupin demanded immediately, aiming his wand directly at Snape's heart.

"I suppose you've noticed that he tends to behave recklessly in situations like this," Snape replied, watching Lupin's resolve falter. "I intend to make sure that he lives long enough to encounter the Dark Lord."

"I see," Lupin said, finally seeming to make up his mind. "You want to present Harry to your master yourself."

"I wand the Dark Lord to be defeated," Snape sighed, supposing that he could have chosen his phrasing better.

He watched Lupin carefully, gauging his reaction, and found that he didn't look nearly as surprised as he should have.

"Professor Dumbledore told you the prophecy," Snape inferred.

"No," Lupin replied, finally lowering his wand. "Harry did."

"Ah," Snape responded.

"Harry won't listen to you," Lupin pointed out.

"I wasn't expecting him to," Snape replied.

"Good luck to you," Lupin said, stepping around him to go.

"Wait," Snape called against his better judgment, but curiosity had gotten the best of him. "How do you know I'm not still loyal to the Dark Lord?"

Lupin turned back, looking a bit somber.

"Because I've spoken with Harry and Nymphadora Tonks. Comparing their stories it seems that Draco Malfoy is a changed person, and that's after a year in hiding with you. I have also observed that Draco is not as adept at deception as you."

"I see," Snape replied thoughtfully.

"Sorry I never tried to stop them," Lupin said suddenly, as though he'd been working up the nerve to say just that throughout their entire conversation. "James and Sirius, I mean."

Snape grew immediately angry that the topic had been brought up, then discovered that he had no venom left for it.

"There were several things I could have done to change the situation as well," he admitted finally.

"Bigger things are going on right now," Lupin replied, "but, maybe, when this is over, we should talk."

"Very well," Snape said, not admitting that he felt a leap of interest at the suggestion. "Good luck to you."

The two men parted ways. Snape climbed another staircase, turned two corners, and happened upon what was probably the most grisly and most gratifying thing he'd ever seen. Bellatrix Lestrange was lying facedown in a pool of blood, pinned beneath a suite of armor. Smirking, he kicked the suite of armor over, only to discover that its sword had impaled the Death Eater through the stomach. She was still alive, but unconscious and bound hand and foot, so Snape searched her pockets until he found his wand. Standing, he cleaned Bellatrix's blood off his wand, and then gave it a flick, finishing what the suit of armor had started.

Turning, Snape took a few running steps back the way he'd come. No Auror would use such a graceless way of putting an end to Bellatrix, it had to be Potter. However, before he'd made it very far, he felt a powerful presence against his mind: the Dark Lord was close by and in all likelihood Potter was much nearer his foe than he realized.

Suppressing his usual tendency to close his mind entirely, Snape instead opened it further, hoping to draw the Dark Lord's attention away from Potter by letting slip that Bellatrix hadn't finished him, Snape, off earlier. Snape chose a different staircase, hoping that Potter had selected the one that was closer to Bellatrix.

Only part of his attention was on his route, the rest was devoted to keeping the Dark Lord's prying influence from investigating any further, but he soon had to sacrifice some of that, because a short distance from the bottom of the staircase, he spotted a liar in a group of Death Eaters who were making their way down the hallway in front of him. Snape jogged a few steps to catch up, then grabbed her arm and snatched her out of the back of the line.

Predictably, she stumbled as she was pulled off balance and did not regain her footing until they were inside a nearby classroom.

"Nymphadora," Snape said, surveying the dark hair and sunken eyes that made her look much more like a relative of Bellatrix Lestrange than usual.

"What do you want, traitor?" she spat, wrenching her arm out of his grasp and raising her wand.

"To warn you," Snape replied, unperturbed by her threat. "You need to get far away from here as quickly as you can."

"Why should I do that?" Tonks demanded. "Do you Death Eaters have some secret trap back here?"

"The Dark Lord is approaching," Snape said, watching the breath catch in Tonks' throat. "Your disguise might have convinced those you were traveling with, but you did not fool me and you will not fool him."

"How do you know he's coming?" Tonks asked sharply.

"I am drawing the Dark Lord here," Snape replied. "I believe Potter was about to happen upon the Dark Lord unprepared. I hope to give Potter enough time to think of a plan so he can finish this."

"But, why are you warning me?" Tonks stammered.

"Use your brain," Snape exclaimed. "The Dark Lord would not be interested in me if he thought me trustworthy and I would not be helping Potter if I wanted the Dark Lord to succeed."

"But, Dumbledore..."

"There's no time to explain," Snape said, scratching at his left forearm, which had begun to throb.

"Then be quick," Tonks replied stubbornly.

"The Dark Lord's orders for Draco forced his hand," Snape sighed, "as did my Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa. He thought my position and Draco's life were more important than his own, so he asked me to do it, ordered me to, and, in the end, begged me to. I had no choice. Are you happy?"

"No," Tonks replied, but she seemed to accept his explanation and even turned to go.

"Wait."

"I thought you wanted me to get out of here," Tonks shot back.

"Then be quick," Snape said. "How's Draco?"

Curiosity about his former charge had been burning at him since Lupin had mentioned him during their brief encounter.

"What?" Tonks asked.

"I know you remain in contact with your mother," Snape replied before realizing that her confusion was because of his concern and not because she was pretending not to know why he was asking her.

"He's fine," Tonks replied. "He and my Dad didn't get along so well until they realized they were both cheering for the same side during the Wasps Cannons game last week. Last I heard my Mum was teaching him how to cook. Apparently he's got something of a knack for it; my Mum seemed excited. I was a bit of a hopeless case."

"Thanks," Snape said with genuine gratitude, but the pain in his tattoo was growing unbearable so he motioned for Tonks to go and departed in the opposite direction.

He'd only made it two hallways before the Dark Lord discovered him.

"Severus Snape."

"Master," Snape replied, turning to face him and closing his mind.

"I was not expecting to see you here," the Dark Lord continued idly, "to risk Hogwarts after you made so many enemies here."

"I knew you would need as much help as possible to take the castle," Snape improvised, unsure of what the Dark Lord was playing at, but it was unwise to question his motives.

"Loyalty for loyalty's sake," the Dark Lord laughed icily, "an uncommon trait among my followers, I could get used to it, but not from you."

"Master?" Snape asked, but he knew there was no use, the Dark Lord had gotten his fun and the rest of Snape's life could now be measured in seconds.

"You have betrayed me," Voldemort hissed.

Even for those with nothing to hide, the one key to surviving an encounter with the Dark Lord was to allow him to dictate when they held eye contact and when they did not, but something happened then that gave Snape no choice but to look away. Potter's timing, while always abysmal, chose that moment to be particularly inconvenient. Snape could not see him, but Potter was nearby, angry, afraid, and practically inviting the Dark Lord entrance to his mind. Fortunately, the Dark Lord, so accustomed to keeping the link between them closed, seemed not to have noticed, but it was only a matter of time. It was now all that Snape could do to keep the Dark Lord's entire attention focused on him.

"No master," Snape maintained, trying to mask his distraction.

"Do not think I cannot tell you are lying," the Dark Lord replied. "It does not matter how accomplished you think you are at Occlumens, the Dark Lord always knows."

"I assure you, Master," Snape said. He knew that his fate had been sealed since the moment that he and the Dark Lord sensed each other, but the Dark Lord also was not as accomplished at Legilimens as he thought, and that was all that mattered now.

"And yet you persist in feeding me lies," the Dark Lord continued. "I know your loyalty has been to Dumbledore since before my powers broke at the hands of that Potter. I know you have been passing information to the Order of the Phoenix for the past three years while still maintaining the illusion of servility to me. But I have been feeding you lies as well."

Snape blinked, his mystery finally solved.

"Don't look so surprised," the Dark Lord said with a hint of cold laughter. "Why shouldn't I have pressed my advantage? You have been giving false information to the Order all this time. Why else would everyone assure you that we were staying in Albania if we were about to attack here?"

"You will not succeed, the Order will stop you," Snape replied, the game finally up.

"I doubt it," the Dark Lord said. "But I suppose I must wait and see. You, however, will not be given that pleasure. Your usefulness has run out, and you will now greet the same fate that meets all who betray me. Avada Kedavra!"

Snape did not move or try to fight it, he knew it would be no use, but, just before the green light met him, he felt a sudden surge of understanding and then of determination from not so far away, from where Harry Potter was listening.