II.14. - Spinner's End

In darkness let me dwell,

The ground shall Sorrow be;

The roof Despair to bar

All cheerful light from me,

The walls of marble black

That moisten’d still shall weep;

My music hellish jarring sounds

To banish friendly sleep.

Thus wedded to my woes

And bedded to my tomb,

O let me living die,

Till death do come.

STING

As soon as he had left the Apparition-proof boundaries of Malfoy Manor, he stopped and Disapparated to his parents’ house. If his father was going to be at home, Severus would simply stun him, he thought – but luckily, Tobias was out – in the pub, probably. To prevent him from returning home prematurely, his son blocked both doors, and sat down in the narrow living room next. He glanced at a half-empty bottle of gin on the sideboard, but for some reason, he didn’t feel like taking a drink. He hadn’t felt the urge to stay sober in – well, years, really.

He got up again and looked for paper and a pen, settled down again, but couldn’t endure to stay seated for more than half a minute. He went to the kitchen and fetched a glass of water, putting it on the living room table next to the paper, fumbled with his robes and produced a little flask. He shot the flask a long, longing glance, but put it down, too, and finally sat down. The first letter he wanted to write was easy. Just a short note really, in which he confessed to have joined the Dark Lord straight after leaving Hogwarts, how he had put Lucius Malfoy under the Imperius Curse, and controlled him ever since, until lately the Dark Lord had taken over. He claimed to have been the Dark Lord’s most devoted follower, and that his life wasn’t going to make any sense with this one gone. Blah blah.

He re-read he letter and smirked. ‘This is going to cover your arse, Lucius,’ he thought with grim satisfaction. His own life was worthless anyway, but Lucius had everything before him still, a great wife and an enchanting child. And even if he had been an idiot – Cissa and their boy mustn’t be the ones to pay for Lucius’ idiocy.

The second letter was much more difficult. He wanted to write to Dumbledore what had happened this night – he ought to know – the whole world ought to know how admirably Lily had died, how she had sacrificed herself to save her child, and how this had killed the Dark Lord himself. Statues of her ought to be chiselled and songs written bearing her name and her story, and he, Severus, was the only one who could tell it.

He shot the gin a greedy glance. As soon as setting the pen on the paper and allowing himself to remember what had happened, his insides were churning up, his skull felt like bursting, his stomach revolted, and he could impossibly hold the pen still. Just one sip of gin might calm him – might give him the strength to remember and write it down – just a little one…

He shook himself and hit his head against the tabletop with all his might. No. He wouldn’t drink this – he wouldn’t allow himself to alleviate this pain just the tiniest bit – he deserved this pain – every last ounce of it. And he wasn’t going to suffer much more of it anyway, so he really, really ought to feel every bit of misery and despair now, when he still could. He wrote down the first two sentences – how he had seen two figures, the Dark Lord and Black, approach the house in Godric’s Hollow… This was as far as he would get. He heard Lily’s voice in his head, screaming, begging, her despair and fear were booming in his skull, echoing, ‘not Harry’…

He scarcely managed to get to the kitchen before he started to vomit. She was dead. The Dark Lord had murdered her – just like that. Like an irksome fly… He had killed her, he, Severus! He was to blame! He was the one that had reduced her to be that fly in the Dark Lord’s way, not mattering herself, just an obstacle between the man and his prey… She could have lived. She could have. But she had refused to let her baby son be killed. Of course she had. Every mother would have done the same. She needn’t have died, still! If only – if only –

‘Not Harry – have mercy!’

He vomited again, and with the nausea and the gagging reflex, another dam inside him broke, too. Spitting and gasping for breath, a deep, hollow sob battled its way up – tears streamed down his face – he could hardly breathe – he could just stop fighting and suffocate right here and now – but this was wrong, he must tell what had happened first – must report how great, how brave, how selfless she had been – he mustn’t die before paying her this one last service.

He must rally himself and do this for her, she must not have died unnoticed, just another collateral victim, she had vanquished the Dark Lord, Lily Evans was a heroine and the world must know and he was the only one who could tell and he must see that the rotten traitor who had lead the Dark Lord to her hiding place that this rotten traitor was hunted down only Severus could still do this for her everyone else was dead and soon so would he must not break down before accomplishing this Dumbledore must know and catch Black and make him pay his death must be as slow and painful as Lily’s had been quick and unnecessary he must die like she had how could Potter have trusted this bastard this wasn’t the first time he had betrayed one of his best friends she could be alive still if only Black and Potter and Severus weren’t such incredible bastards Potter was dead soon Severus would follow and Dumbledore must track down Black and kill him too he must he must do this for Lily

Everything in his head started spinning – his own thoughts mingled with Lily’s voice, her dead body on the floor, her pleas, the impassive curse murdering her, the screaming baby, Lily, Lily – LILY!

He didn’t know where he was – what – how – why – but what he knew was that Lily was dead – he reared up – but he couldn’t – and slowly, he heard a voice, very distant, hardly permeating Lily’s screams – he opened his eyes but he was blinded – light – the fire – was this the fire – and faintly he noticed some force working on his jaw – a sharp taste, stronger than the bitter one before – a voice – whiteness – was he already dead – oh God, he had failed her again – he had died before fulfilling his last task –

“Severus? Can you hear me?”

The whiteness dissolved into clearer pictures – a white beard – white hair – silvery robes – Dumbledore…

“Severus!” Dumbledore waved the flask with the poison before Severus’ eyes. “Did you take this! Answer to me!”

“Must – Lily – dead – tell you how –”

“Did you drink this?”

“No – mustn’t die before –”

“Oh, thank goodness…” Dumbledore stooped and propped Severus up against the kitchen sink. “The boy is well, by the way. Hagrid looks after him.”

Severus could only goggle at him; his mind was blank. “The boy…?”

“The boy, Severus! Lily’s son!”

“Lily!” The name hurt him as if Dumbledore had just pushed a dagger into his side. “She – she’s dead! I couldn’t – I tried – too late – murdered her – just like that – he just killed her!”

“I know… But what happened? How –”

Severus would have told him, but he could merely stammer, and the more he tried, the worse his state became. Dumbledore gave up for the time being and took him back to Hogwarts for a start. In the Headmaster’s Office, he used his wand to extract that most painful memory from Severus, saving him from having to re-tell it all. He poured the memory into a stone basin on his desk. In another life, Severus would have been curious about this basin, how Dumbledore bent down and pushed his face into the swirling substance, half liquid, half gasen. As it was though, he couldn’t think of anything else but Lily – her death – and not only the fact that she had been killed, but why made him nauseous – more than nauseous – it tore him asunder.

After Dumbledore had forced three more potions down his throat and performed a good deal of soothing charms on him, Severus had recovered far enough to be capable of speech, but the old Headmaster had to give in; he saw that no magic could help the man, almost a boy still, before him.

“Black!” Severus growled and clenched his fists. “He must be there still – must get him – kill him –”

“Justice will be done, Severus, but not by you.”

“Justice,” he spat, livid. “Justice! There cannot be justice for this! Neither of us has the right to live!”

“Severus… Calm yourself…”

“You don’t know nothing about justice,” Severus croaked accusingly, his eyes brimming over with anger and despair. “Not you! How will you cover it up this time?! That Black has practically murdered her himself? This needn’t have happened! If he had been brought to justice when he tried to commit his first murder! She need not have died! She must not have died! She –”

“Let’s not forget that it wasn’t Sirius Black’s machinations alone that led Lord Voldemort to Godric’s Hollow tonight, Severus,” Dumbledore said calmly. He could just as well have screamed the words, for that’s how they were ringing in Severus’ ears. He nodded, beaten.

“Yes… Let me die, Dumbledore. You know everything now. Let me go. Let me –”

“I will not let you hide away and lay yourself down to die like a wounded animal, Severus,” Dumbledore said sternly. “I will not, so stop asking me!”

“You – you promised – you said…” He tried to pull himself together, but hardly succeeded. “I thought – you were going – to keep her – safe –”

“She and James put their faith in the wrong person… Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?”

Severus could impossibly answer this, not now. Yes, he had hoped against hope, but he had so desperately tried to make sure – that’s why he had come to Dumbledore – that’s why he had turned against the mightiest wizard of all times – had given Dumbledore every bit of information he could gather – had spent his nights guarding her house – had lingered around praying to find out who the traitor was among Dumbledore’s men… Not for a second though had he suspected Black – he ought to have known it – he had known what Black was capable of – but he had let himself be deceived – had believed in Black’s so often declared friendship with Potter… Lily could be alive still if it wasn’t for Severus and his stupidity…

“Her boy survives…” Severus felt Dumbledore’s look, but still, there was nothing more to say. Of course the boy had survived! After all, Lily had sacrificed herself for him! How could Dumbledore not grasp this?! “Her son lives. He has her eyes – precisely her eyes…” Severus closed his eyes, trying to dispel the tormenting memory – Lily’s beautiful green eyes, sparkling – vivid – the images blended in with the kid’s eyes – the memory took his breath. “You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“Don’t! Gone! Dead!”

But Dumbledore didn’t stop torturing him. “Is this remorse, Severus?”

Was it? Certainly, remorse was not nearly strong enough a word! If only he could trade places – if only it was his body lying on that floor – he was to blame – he was responsible that it had come to this! “I wish – I wish I were dead,” he whispered, incapable to voice that speechless horror more eloquently.

“And what use would that be to anyone?”

Severus stared at him. Use? What was the old man babbling there! This wasn’t about use! It was about justice! – But then – Dumbledore had never grasped that concept, had he! Dumbledore was far too practical to bother for such trifles!

Just as casually, the old man continued, “If you loved Lily Evans…” Severus squirmed, but Dumbledore didn’t have mercy with his pains. “If you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.”

What…? Way…? There was only one way, and it included a nice glass of arsenic! He didn’t have the right to live – no more – not after this night! Oh, if only he had already died back then – if only Lupin had torn him to shreds in that night! Then it wouldn’t be his hands stained by Lily’s blood tonight! Then Lily’s life wouldn’t have been wasted tonight in the first place!

Dumbledore didn’t draw his eyes away; his gaze was penetrating him, his face expectant, challenging almost. Severus goggled back, perfectly incapable to comprehend. “What – what do you mean?”

“You know how and why she died.” Severus trembled, and if he hadn’t been sick all over his father’s kitchen sink already, he would have vomited now. Dumbledore continued insistently, “Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.”

If this was the old man’s idea of an anti-suicide-programme, he was on the completely wrong track! Only because the kid’s own godfather was a rotten traitor of everything good and sacred, Severus wouldn’t embrace life and take Black’s place! “He does not need protection! The Dark Lord has gone!”

“The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.”

It took a while for Severus to process that message. On the one hand – he had seen the Dark Lord’s demise. There could be no doubt – he was dead! He had seen it with his own two eyes! But on the other hand – he had believed in the Dark Lord’s immortality for too long – he had never fully discarded his doubts about Narcissa’s fiery proclamations of the factual impossibility of such a thing. The Dark Lord was – had been – was? Whatever – his powers had been greater than anything Severus had ever heard of. That he had seen with his own eyes, too. Narcissa had not. If anyone was capable of overcoming death – it must certainly be the Dark Lord then!

“Very well,” he muttered helplessly. “Very well…” Another thought occurred to him, and he added hastily, “But – never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear… Especially – Potter’s son – I want your word!”

He looked at him imploringly, willing him to remember the time when he, Severus, had given him his word. He had always stuck to it – had never given anything away – Dumbledore must pay back in coin, right? He couldn’t deny him this one wish!

“My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you…? If you insist…”

“I do,” Severus cried with emphasis. “I do! Never – I never – she never knew – and if she didn’t – no one must – I couldn’t endure the… I…”

“Of course, there is a certain merit in keeping the secret…”

Severus wasn’t surprised to see Dumbledore return to his pragmatic ways so quickly, but for once he wasn’t scandalised, but relieved, and sighed, “Good.”

“Heads will be rolling for a while… I’ll vouchsafe for you – and excuse me for reading it, but I did find your – note – incurring all of Mr Malfoy’s guilt…”

Good Lord – Lucius! He had forgotten all about him! “Sir – I beg you – let me go to Azkaban instead – I have nothing left to lose!”

“I don’t need you in prison, but here, Severus.”

“But – if the Dark Lord returns, he’ll surely –”

“Why do you want to spare him, Severus? I know what he is – why do you want to spare the right hand of the man who killed Lily Evans?”

“Lucius has nothing to do with that!”

“But enough with everything else.”

“He’s got a wife and a child, too, Dumbledore. Don’t – don’t make me… I betrayed one friend and destroyed her life – her family… Don’t force me to destroy another friend’s family, too!”

“Very well, Severus, very well. I don’t mean to force you to anything. I rely on your free will – that’s enough for me.”

*****

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