lomonaaeren

“He could have killed you.”

“My dueling reflexes are too good for that.”

Harry had accepted a cup of tea to which Severus had prudently added a Calming Draught, but his hand was still trembling a little while he sipped from his cup. Severus studied him and added a drop more of Calming Draught to the tea.

Harry closed his eyes. “I don’t—I don’t know what I would have done if you’d died.”

“Or if Albus had forced you to defend your own life?”

“I could have done that. But I might not have made the best choice of spells.”

Severus inclined his head. Harry would have cast Dark Arts if he had truly believed his life was in danger, and dealt with the legal consequences later. Instead, he seemed to have been frozen by the power of his own anger at being threatened without his wand drawn.

“Mr. Nott?”

“I didn’t ask him to step in like that. He’s probably the best one who could have. McGonagall thinks he’s reasonable, and she would have got a story that was a lot more drama-laden from someone else.”

Severus nodded slowly, eyes fastened on Harry. Harry noticed and glanced at him, his face dark in the light of the fire.

“Is Barty going to be all right?”

“He’s asleep at the moment, but I think he’ll wake up fine. As fine as Barty can be,” Severus added dryly, given that the man was still most truly himself when he was close to the stabilizing influence of Harry’s Horcrux. “Losing control of the Imperius is a hard blow, but it’s not nearly as bad as something like the impact on Dumbledore’s skull when he fell.”

“I would like it best if Dumbledore never woke up again.”

Severus watched Harry, considering whether he should try to take care of that. Then he said, “That would make him too much of a martyr. Better if he survives long enough to wake up and make more statements that will confuse and alienate others. He will die of the poison soon enough, but we can inflict harm on him after death.”

“His reputation,” Harry said, after a moment’s confusion that proved how truly disoriented he was by what had happened.

Severus nodded. “I thought at first that he was unaffected by the Imperius, but I believe now that it confused him and decreased his impulse control. He would not have blurted out the accusations about your possession in public otherwise.”

“He never said anything about possession in those words, though. Do you think…”

“I think people will think he is mad. Or collapsing under the pressure of the job, if they prefer a more charitable interpretation. Professor McGonagall believes that he has dragonpox virulens.”

“It can cause madness?”

“Hallucinations, dementia, fever dreams. It essentially sets the brain on fire.”

“And your poison wasn’t meant to mimic that?”

“It was one of several possibilities it was meant to mimic,” Severus said, in his blandest voice.

Harry had lost the last of his tremors. He laughed. “And what do you think is going to happen from here?”

“No one will take Albus seriously again, even if he wakes back up and has a few good weeks left. People might not be able to think of you as the hero that they once hoped you’d be, but they wouldn’t think of you as the Dark Lord, either. And they certainly wouldn’t think of me that way.”

“Right. You’re the known terror, not the unknown.”

It would not have been so long ago that Severus would have bristled at those words, no matter how much teasing he knew they contained. Now he simply smirked at Harry and turned back to studying his notes on the Dark Mark once more.

Harry drew out a book, and they worked for a time in companionable silence. At last, Severus had a question to ask.

“Do you know what you’ll replace the Dark Mark with?”

Harry smiled at him. It was so much less tense than he’d been earlier that part of Severus relaxed, too. “Oh, yes.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Oh, no.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “It might be that Barty will react badly in the heat of the moment, as you know, and that I will be needed to defend you. I could do that better if I knew what the Mark would be and what Barty’s reaction was likely to be as well.”

“You won’t need to do that. Trust me on this.”

Severus studied him, but Harry preserved a calm expression, and it wasn’t as though Severus had consulted him on every plan before he put it together, either, such as the way that Barty had put Albus Dumbledore on a mental leash. He confined himself to a shrug. “As long as you are sure that you will be well.”

“I wouldn’t let either of us be otherwise.”

*

“Albus is awake and asking for you, Severus.”

Severus turned around to lift an eyebrow at Minerva. “He’s asking for the person he thinks is an incarnation of the Dark Lord?”

Minerva grimaced and tucked a strand of hair back into her bun. “He wasn’t in his right mind when he said that.”

“And how many students would agree with you?” Despite his snide tone, Severus turned to walk with her towards the hospital wing. He did need to know the state of Albus’s mind at the moment, and how insane he might act.

“I’m sure that many students would agree with me that something is deeply wrong with the Headmaster.”

“I have been aware of his circumstance for some time, and that he was lying to Poppy about them. But he ordered me to say nothing, even when I expressed my opinion of his lying to our good mediwitch.”

“At the moment, I’m the unofficial Headmistress of Hogwarts.”

Severus nearly stumbled over the stair in front of them. “The Board of Governors takes his indisposition that seriously?”

Minerva gave him a tired glance. “It was really the lying to Poppy that did it. If the incident yesterday had been all? They might simply have concluded that he had dragonpox and tried to treat him for it. But since he knew what was happening for weeks and didn’t tell Poppy? That’s made them sure that either his brain was far more affected than they thought or that he did know what was happening and deliberately hid it. They’ve removed him from office.”

Severus felt a deep, quiet joy all the way up to the hospital wing.

When they entered, Poppy stood up and glared at them from eyes that had a bright red rim of exhaustion around them. “You are to have ten minutes and no more with him. It doesn’t matter what Albus says he wants.”

“His wishes seem to be suspect in any case,” Severus murmured.

“Quite.” Poppy cast a glance at Albus’s bed that was vicious enough Severus blinked. “Maybe I could have saved him if he had come in earlier. Maybe. As it is, I never had the chance to do it!”

She stomped off, and Severus raised his eyebrows at Minerva. She pursed her lips. “Poppy will grieve him, but it will be tinged with fury.”

Severus nodded. Poppy did hate losing a patient. She’d mourned for years each time a student died on her watch.

He walked over and stood next to Albus’s bed, gazing down. Albus met his gaze with fever-bright eyes. Severus would have liked to dip into his mind and see how ravaged it had become because of both the poison and Barty’s Imperius, but he thought Albus’s Occlumency might still be good enough for the man to realize what he was doing.

“Severus,” Albus whispered, “I’m dying.”

“Yes, Headmaster. I have been aware of that for some time.”

Minerva twitched a little. Technically she was supposed to be standing far enough away not to overhear, but that just confirmed for Severus that it was best to speak with an audience in mind.

“You must complete the work we talked about.”

“It will be hard to fight the Dark Lord without your guidance, Headmaster.”

“You know it is not that. You know that you must do anything you can to end Harry’s possession.”

Minerva smothered an exclamation this time. Severus honestly could not tell if Albus heard her. His eyes were hard and focused on Severus like a wand.

Severus inclined his head. “I believe that your condition and the incident yesterday have taken their toll on you, Headmaster. You are still in the thrall of ideas about Mr. Potter that are not true.”

“You have no idea what I have seen, what I know.” Albus’s voice was suddenly passionate. “We will lose this war unless you kill Mr. Potter.”

Minerva spun around and stared at them, aghast.

And he didn’t know she was listening. Severus did enjoy the way that Albus cleared his throat and looked at Minerva, who seemed as if she were about to transform into her Animagus shape and lash her tail. It served Albus more than right.

“Albus Dumbledore.” Minerva kept her voice low, probably only because she was afraid of summoning Poppy otherwise. “You think that boy is possessed?”

“I know he is, Minerva. And I know what he is.”

“What is he?”

Albus hesitated, looking at Minerva, who seemed about to breathe fire. Severus just put an expression of long-suffering on his face and enjoyed the show. It seemed Minerva had a soft spot for Harry, even if she had also believed his parents would be disappointed in his Sorting.

“He is someone who is particularly susceptible to possession by Lord Voldemort,” Albus said at last. “I have been working myself into a frenzy trying to find some other solution, my dear. If there were one, I would take it.” Severus even believed that. “I believe my collapse was partially derived from how hard I have been working.”

Severus tensed slightly. If Minerva believed Albus, it might be that Severus would need to do something that—

“You lied to Poppy.”

“About what it was? Yes.”

“How do I know that you are not lying now?” Minerva spoke in a whisper, her eyes full of disbelief—and pity, Severus thought. That was better than any emotion he might have tried to touch her mind and plant. “We know that you have dragonpox virulens, Albus. All the symptoms are congruent. I fully believe that you are suffering, but I cannot let you make an innocent boy suffer with you.”

“I do not have dragonpox, Minerva! Do I show a sign of the spots?”

Minerva just shook her head, the pity remaining. “The virulens subtype affects the body with fire more than with the actual spots, Albus.”

“Severus.” Albus turned to Severus and issued a tone of command that Severus once would have felt bound to obey. “Tell her. It was not dragonpox. It was a curse from the Dark Lord.”

Severus felt his eyes widen a little. “The Dark Lord, Headmaster?” he repeated, slowly.

In truth, it was probably a remnant of Barty’s control, the way that he had felt when he controlled Albus leaking into Albus’s head. But it was also a slip that brought Minerva’s head up as she stared at him.

“Severus,” she whispered. “Do you think he could be possessed?”

“Of course not,” Severus said, but he made his voice a little less certain than usual, and moved away from the bed with a slow step.

Albus abruptly sat up. He glared at both of them, although his eyes were out of focus. “I am not mad! And not sick! And not insane! I am cursed! Severus must kill Mr. Potter so that the world can be free—”

He slumped over on the bed as Minerva’s Stunner hit him. Severus swallowed and glanced at her as she holstered her wand. Poppy was already bustling over, face promising a painful death for Minerva.

Minerva ignored the mediwitch. “He might be cursed, but he is also insane.”

“Minerva!”

Severus turned to look at the still man on the bed as the women began to argue. Albus’s eyes were wide and staring, one hand still spread out, claw-like, at his side. There were burns along the sides of his mouth that Severus noted with satisfaction.

Severus would have liked to say something, but there was too much chance that Minerva, Poppy, or both would have noticed, and the last thing he wanted to do was increase their suspicion.

So he had to say it in his head as he looked down at Albus.

You have had control of my life for so long. It is only right that you lose control of your own at the last.