THE THIRD WIZARD OF DEATH
“So what should we write in an official report?” – asks Mrs. Figg when they’re climbing to the Dumbledore’s office.
”Unsuccessful demon incantation or something.” – snaps Snape. “Can’t you lie? These fools in the MOM have no idea about demons at all, they’ll believe anything.”
“Who on Earth could this person be, Severus?”
“We’ll see.” – murmurs Snape. He has some suspicions but prefers not to tell them aloud until he’s sure.
“A demon? A hit man?”
“I don’t think so, Headmaster. I’m pretty sure it was a human – maybe two people but not more – and rather desperate than cold-blooded. I suppose this guy was fighting for his life.”
“Marcus?”
“That’s possible but why haven’t he contacted us? There were no unfamiliar smells there, by the way, as much as I could recognize them in that stench of burnt flesh – but I could smell only the Malfoys, the Flints and also some other people who I know visited them so maybe a Death Eater but what for?”
“Draco?” Snape’s eyes darken.
“Do you realize what it could mean, Headmaster?” – he replies, touching his left cheek. “Yew will be their sign, remember? And what for, by the way? Did they want to force him to something? Tortured him? Why? What for? He’s their only child, after all. I know they didn’t love him but were they mad enough to harm him really seriously? (Wouldn’t put it past them, by the way.) Another demon that drove somebody mad? Headmaster, it’d mean he attacked 5 grown-up wizards and he isn’t a stupid, brainless brat but a Death Eater! He knows violence only too well. I myself taught him a lot of martial arts to protect him form his own family and I know he’s learnt lots of curses so he would have been aware of the risk. I would think twice before attacking alone against five and I’m a professional. I would understand he finished these bastards his parents off but he fancied this Lilith and we liked the Flints. They were his aunt and uncle and, according to my knowledge, never tried to do him any harm. If it was him indeed I don’t dare to think what they tried to do or maybe did to him.”
“There’s another question.” – Remus interrupts him. “Where is he? He wasn’t in the Castle. If he’s really responsible for that where did he run? Or is he dead, maybe, or taken captive?”
“Maybe he ran to save his life from the killer.” – adds Mrs. Figg. “Why not to check for him in the Palantir?” To their great surprise, the Stone doesn’t give them any answer.
“So Riddle House.” – whispers Remus and a rapid shudder runs down his spine. “Oh no, I know the boy is a Death Eater but I still pity him if Voldemort wants to harm him.”
“He’s fifteen.” – growls Snape malevolently. “I assure you, Remus, it was their fault, not his, that he became who he became. Still we don’t know whether it was he, after all. Maybe he was simply summoned to the Riddle House, by the way, I do worry more about Marcus.” Snape descends to the dungeons to calm down a bit but he can’t help thinking about all that happened last night. He’d give his life to save Marcus but he can’t even find him. The very thought of his possible fate makes him nauseous. And Draco. Well, Snape is really glad the boy wasn’t killed with his family but what happened to him? If he’s the killer (and that’s possible) where the hell is he? And, whoever it was, WHY? A sudden hoot interrupts his musings. The looks up at the owl and understands at once. “Redeye” – he says to the familiar bird – “give me the letter, please.” He tears the envelope with trembling hands and starts reading. The script is uneven and rough, as if written very hastily or with injured fingers; Snape notices also a fleck of blood on the paper.
Professor Snape,
Marcus is with me. The dagger showed me the way to a house in the moors; I have no idea where we are. We need a doctor, please, hurry!
There’s no name of the writer but Snape realizes at once who he is. He knows also what house it is. “Aegnor” – he bursts into the hospital wing – “I need you help.”
“What?” – she stares at him with her jet black eyes.
“I’ve found Marcus. He’s alive.” The Healer nods and wordlessly starts packing her medical stuff.
“You have him?” Naya’s eyes are full of hope.
“Yes. Come with me.”
“I’ll join you.” – Lupin appears in the doorway.
“No, Remus. It’s better for him he doesn’t meet you now. It isn’t easy to talk to our previous enemy, I assure you.” Lupin’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t mean Marcus.” Snape makes a Portkey and then Naya, Aegnor and him touch it and he activates it. They land somewhere on the damp ground. The fog is so heavy that they can’t see literally anything.
“Where on Earth are we?”
“The moors.” – answers Snape curtly. “Follow me if you don’t want to come to a bad end here.” He leads them along a twisted, narrow path. Naya swears, dragging her feet off the treacherous marsh. Who was so stupid to build a house here? “One of my “lairs” nobody knows about.” – explains Snape. “This place is very well protected, even the Dark Lord isn’t able to sniff it.”
“So how could Marcus find it?”
“It wasn’t him. Watch out!” – he grasps her arm. After twenty minutes or so the dark shape emerges out of the fog. It’s a small stone house surrounded by a wall.
“Not a pleasant place.” – murmurs Aegnor.
“But safe.” – barks her father. The iron gate opens soundlessly as Snape presses the handle. When they enter, he halts suddenly, feeling the presence of the demon.
“Esperanza” – whispers Aegnor. “The illegal art of invocation seems to flourish lately, doesn’t it?” Esperanza can be described as a creature opposite to the Dementors: it devours bad feelings, making you feel better, is recalls happy memories and brings hope and courage. It’s one of the most positive demons in the world. Snape pushes the heavy door open and they enter a low, dim hall.
“Draco” – says Snape aloud. “Show yourself.” Another door opens with a crack and the jet black eyes meet frosty blue ones, filled with pain but also with hope and joy.
“I knew you’d come, Professor” – he whispers – “I knew.” Snape grasps him in his arms, opens the door with a kick and they all enter the room, filled with bright candlelight. Draco’s long hair are disheveled and glued with blood, his face is covered with bruises and his robes are in an abysmal state. He presses a handkerchief against his cheek and the cloth is drenched with his blood. One glance at his fingers makes Snape sure Luc took part in this dirty game.
“I have only one question, Draco” – he looks at his face – “who the seven hells brewed he Manticore potion?”
“I did.” – he whispers back. “Laced Kin Slayer with it.” Snape shakes his head. “You’re crazy, my boy, absolutely crazy.” Draco’s blue eyes fill with fear as he expects Snape’s rejection. “The potion was perfect, I must admit that.”
“What the hell happened to Marcus?!” – Aegnor scans the second man and can’t believe her own senses.
“He… They caught him red-handed.” – whispers Draco. “Had no chances so he obliviated himself.” Snape’s jaw drops. The ultimate weapon of spies – to get rid of all your memories… A desperate way, but great. Even the Dark Lord wouldn’t be able to make you confess anything, if you erased all your memories yourself. He lays Draco gently on the sofa and kneels beside Marcus’ bed. The gray eyes that stared at him bravely on the Sorting Day, which looked at him, full of attention during their lessons and stared at him with trust and strength when he was teaching him the art of espionage are now blank and completely emotionless. Snape shudders as he’s seen such eyes before – the eyes of the victims of the Dementor’s Kiss… Marcus, you bloody, stupid boy! He yells out aloud with pain and fury. This is what he gave the boy who trusted him. This is the only thing he can give – pain, destruction and death. Marcus, you crazy hero who loved me so much that you preferred to be worse than dead than to betray me, why have I taught you this? Why have I taught you how to pronounce this accursed “Obliviate” word? Why have I made you a spy, leading you the way that brings only humiliation and suffering? Marcus, I’m not worth such a sacrifice. Marcus…
“If you can make the Triple Potion, Mearas can cure him.” – Aegnor’s hand softly brushes his hair. “A full recovery after a few days of self-oblivion is possible if you have a good Healer and the potion.” Snape shudders slightly, fully aware of the way the potion has to be made. There’s a very good reason it’s called the Triple: it requires blood of the brewer after a triple Cruciatus, held for two minutes… He curses himself mentally for his own fear – Marcus didn’t hesitate to sacrifice much more to help him. He WILL get his potion, at any cost!
“I can do that, Aegnor, and I swear I will.” – Snape stares at her with wild determination. Where can you find real friends, after all, if not in Slytherin? Aegnor keeps bustling around the unconscious man but there isn’t much she can do now. Physically he wasn’t hurt much – even these brainless gits soon realized there’s no point to torture an obliviated wizard and, after all, young Malfoy did a lot to help him. Severus said once he had taught him basic healing techniques and the boy did his best to help his fellow. He does know a lot about Potions – that’s obvious. Having done everything possible, the Unicorn turns to her another patient who seems to require much more quick help than the previous one. Seven million hells, broken fingers again?! Was it really the boy’s family who treated him like that?! Snape stares at his student, trying to figure out what really happened.
“They caught him, Professor” – croaks Draco, still pressing a handkerchief against his cheek – “when he was breaking into Lucius’ desk.” Draco’s never called his parents “mother” and “father” in Snape’s presence and the latter knows why. “There was a party, the Flints came with him and when they had gotten drunken he sneaked to his office… Lilith noticed him, they burst in and he drew out his wand and pointed it at himself. Then they started… You know what, Professor” – the voice is so quiet now that it’s hard to grasp the words.
“I know.” – says Snape, squeezing the boy’s wrist reassuringly.
“They… They forced me to join.” The hardest confession you can make – that you took part in something you loathe. The only harder thing is facing your own victim when you are aware how terrible your guilt and responsibility are. “It was terrible, Professor, even during the spree when I didn’t know these people. With Lupin it was even worse, especially that he wasn’t pleading us to stop…” Oh, yes, Draco, didn’t you know this? Power of the soul is much more impressive than physical force – maybe because it’s much more rare. “And Marcus… There was no fear in his eyes when he was shouting the spell. He… he loves you.” A tear runs down the pale face. “You will make this potion for him, won’t you?”
“I have sworn, haven’t I?”
“You don’t break your promises, Professor.” As long as I don’t make them as a spy… “How could they? They were his parents, Lucius was his godfather, and I am his cousin!” Draco, family love is a thing I have never seen, too. “And they couldn’t force him to speak. He didn’t react at all so Narcissa wanted to kill him, I stepped in and Lucius got furious and grabbed me and…” – Draco tilts with his head at his left hand. “It hurt me and the started laughing and hit me and then… Even Lilith was laughing.” The last delusion to fall and the most painful one, Draco, my boy. “She called me a traitor and told me they are bringing Marcus and me to the Lord.” I hope you’re frying in hell, all of you! “I begged them not to but it made them laugh even harder.” And they say vampires and werewolves are monsters… “I was so afraid and didn’t know what to do and suddenly I heard your voice in my head. You commanded me to fight, Professor. I called my dagger and all I know is that Kin Slayer burst into flames.” – he stares in space for a while – “The next moment I remember is when I was lying on the floor after the fight with Lilith. She must have wrenched the dagger out of my hand, I think. I took it and came back to Marcus. I didn’t know what to do, I was so alone.” Severus embraces him gently. “I was afraid I’d frame you in if I appeared in the castle with him but Kin Slayer burst into flames again and I felt she was calling me and she showed me the way here, she told me how to make a Portkey.”
“Norangs can do that. They show you the safe place, they can bring you home.” Home…
“Professor?”
“Yes?”
“You’ve told me I can come back if I want. Will you… Will you forgive me?”
“Do I break my promises, Draco?” Tears start running silently down the pale cheeks. “I’m a criminal, a murderer” –he sobs – “a fucking Death Eater!”
“Only technically.” – Snape’s voice is quiet but firm – “If you don’t believe all that nonsense anymore you’re not a real Death Eater, you know. And I don’t have to forgive you anything – you saved me twice and now helped Marcus. That’s enough, you’ve paid your debt back ten times.”
“I never will. What will I tell Lupin? What will I tell Dumbledore? He’ll hand me over to the MOM!”
“That’s the last thing he’ll do I assure you. I won’t leave you alone.”
“The Ministry won’t hurt me?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to face the council.” –Draco’s heart sinks and Snape, seeing his fear, adds – “but I won’t leave you with these Ministry Aurors alone. I know a few of them who’re trustworthy.”
“May I finally start scanning him?” – Aegnor interrupts them. “Sorry, but the time is running.” Snape obediently lets her do her duty. “Well, Mr. Malfoy, show me your cheek, please…” Cheek?! Snape’s heart jolts. Indeed Draco was pressing a handkerchief against his LEFT cheek. No, he doesn’t even have to look at the wound, he knows already how it looks like but he still hopes he’s mistaken. No. Life isn’t so merciful. Severus’ and Naya’s eyes meet after they’ve caught a glimpse of the third Yr.