First half of book:
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003829962
Previous Chapters:
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003833123
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003838588
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003840013
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https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003844352
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003844924
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(I think the last chapter didn't publish quite correct, so if you haven't read the chapter about Harry finding Theodore and the gang finding Ravenclaw's diadem please read that chapter first, a lot happens in it.)
Chapter Thirty-One: The Elder Wand
The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Harry’s mind was in free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Nymphadora Tonks could not be dead, the evidence of all his senses must be lying—
And then there was an explosion and the exterior wall collapsed on top of them, and curses flew in at them from the darkness, hitting the wall behind their heads.
‘Get down!’ Harry shouted, as more curses flew through the night: He and Allison had grabbed Theodore and Tracey and pulled them to the floor. Allison then tried to go to Tonks, so move her body away from any further harm, but Harry had to shout at her to stop.
‘Allison, come on, we’ve got to move!’ Harry said while grabbing her arm, holding her back.
She shook her head, she tried to twist herself free.
‘Allison!’ Harry saw tears running down her spot covered face, as well as Theodore and Tracey’s, and Harry knew he was probably crying to, but he knew they couldn’t stay there. He tried to pull Allison again but she would not budge. ‘There is nothing we can do for her now, Allison! We’re going to—‘
Tracey screamed, and Harry, turning, did not need to ask why. A monstrous spider the size of a small car was trying to climb through the huge hole in the wall. One of Aragog’s descendants had joined the fight.
Tracey and Harry shouted together; their spells collided and the monster was blown backward, its legs jerking horribly, and vanished into the darkness.
‘The whole family is here!’ Theodore called to the others, and glancing through the hole in the wall Harry could see it was true. More giant spiders were climbing the side of the building, liberated from the Forbidden Forest, into which the Death Eaters must have penetrated. Harry fired Stunning Spells down upon them, knocking the lead monster into its fellows, so that they rolled back down the building and out of sight. Then more curses came soaring over Harry’s head, so close he felt the force of them blow his hair.
‘Let’s move, NOW!’
Pushing Tracey ahead of him with Theodore, Harry stooped to seize Tonks’ body under the armpit. Allison, realizing what Harry was trying to do and helped: together, crouching low to avoid the curses flying at them from the grounds, they hauled Tonks out of the way.
‘Here,’ said Harry, and they placed her in a niche where a suit of armor had stood earlier. He could not bear to look at his cousin a second longer than he had to, and after making sure that the body was well-hidden, he took off after Tracey and Theodore. The corridor was now full of dust and falling masonry, glass long gone from windows, he saw many people running backward and forward, whether friends or foes he could not tell. Rounding the corner, Allison let out a bull-like roar warning:
‘DOLOHOV!’ and sprinted towards Harry.
‘Alli, Harry, over here!’ Theodore screamed.
She and Theodore were behind the tapestry, and a second later Harry and Allison’s joined them. Allison was practically fuming and she looked as though she was about to explode.
‘It was Bellatrix! I’m going to make her pay for all the pain and death she’s caused! I’ll going to kill all of the Death Eaters!’
‘Alli-‘ Tracey tried, but she choked on her words.
‘Allison! You listen to me right now!’ shouted Harry.
Her face was contorted, smeared with dust, smoke, and tears, and she was shaking with rage and grief.
He knew how she felt, they all just lost a caring and loyal family member who was always there for them, Harry wanted revenge as well, but they couldn’t do so yet. They had to finish the mission so that no one else would get hurt.
‘Allison, Jaanu, only the four of us can end this fighting! Only the four of us can kill the snake! Allison—Please!’ Harry begged.
Her breathing steadied slightly, but she still seemed engulfed in rage.
‘To get to the snake we’ll have to go through waves of Death Eaters, vile monsters you can take out, but you can only do so if you come with us,’ said Theodore, his voice raspy.
This seemed to bring Allison back, and her rage settled beneath the surface but did not cease. She turned to Harry.
‘You have to find out where Voldemort is now, as the snake will be with him. Open your mind to his, look inside of him Harry!’
Why was it so easy? Because his scar had been burning for hours, yearning to show him Voldemort’s thoughts? He closed his eyes on her command, and at once, the screams and bangs and all the discordant sounds of the battle were drowned until they became distant, as though he stood far, far away from them…
He was standing in the middle of a desolate but strangely familiar room, with peeling paper on the walls and all the windows boarded up except for one. The sounds of the assault on the castle were muffled and distant. The single unblocked window revealed distant bursts of light where the castle stood, but inside the room was dark except for a solitary oil lamp.
He was rolling his wand between his fingers, watching it, his thoughts on the room in the castle, the secret room only he had ever found, the room, like the chamber, that you had to be clever and cunning and inquisitive to discover…He was confident that the boy would not find the diadem…although Dumbledore’s puppet had come much farther than he ever expected…too far…
‘My Lord,’ said a voice, desperate and cracked. He turned: there was Lucius Malfoy sitting in the darkest corner, ragged and still bearing the marks of the punishment he had received after the boy’s last escape. One of his eyes remained closed and puffy. ‘My Lord...please...my son...’
‘If your son is dead, Lucius, he did so trying to fulfill my commands, you should be honoured. That of course is if he is loyal and did not decided to befriend Harry Potter?’
‘No—never,’ whispered Malfoy.
‘You must hope not.’
‘Aren’t—aren’t you afraid, my Lord that Potter might die at another hand but yours?’ asked Malfoy, his voice shaking.
‘Wouldn’t it be…forgive me…more prudent to call off this battle, enter the castle, and seek him y–yourself?’
‘Do not pretend Lucius. You wish the battle to cease so that you can discover what has happened to your son. And I do not need to seek Potter. Before the night is out, Potter will have come to find me.’
Voldemort dropped his gaze once more to the wand in his fingers. It troubled him…and those things that troubled Lord Voldemort needed to be rearranged…
‘Go and fetch Snape.’
‘Snape, m–my Lord?’
‘Snape. Now. I need him. There is a—service—I require from him. Go.’
Frightened, stumbling a little through the gloom, Lucius left the room. Voldemort continued to stand there, twirling the wand between his fingers, staring at it.
‘It is the only way, Nagini,’ he whispered, and he looked around, and there was the great thick snake, now suspended in midair, twisting gracefully within the enchanted, protected space he had made for her, a starry, transparent sphere somewhere between a glittering cage and a tank.
With a gasp, Harry pulled back and opened his eyes at the same moment his ears were assaulted with the screeches and cries, the smashes and bangs of battle.
‘He’s in the Shrieking Shack. The snake’s with him, it’s got some sort of magical protection around it. He’s just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape.’
‘Voldemort is hiding in the Shrieking Shack?’ said Theodore, outraged. ‘He isn’t even fighting with his dying army?’
‘He doesn’t think he needs to fight,’ said Harry. ‘He thinks I’m going to go to him.’
‘Why would he—‘ began Tracey.
‘He knows I’m after Horcruxes—he’s keeping Nagini close beside him—obviously I’m going to have to go to him to get near the thing—‘
‘Correct,’ said Theodore, ‘so that is why you shouldn’t go, he’s expecting you, it’s a trap. You should stay here and maybe one of two of us go under your Cloak—‘
Harry cut Theodore off.
‘No, you three stay here, I’ll go under the Cloak and I’ll be back as soon as I—‘
‘I’ll go, I need to fight something!’ said Allison.
‘No one should go by themselves,’ said Tracey.
Before Harry or anyone else could argue any further, the tapestry at the top of the staircase on which they stood was ripped open.
‘POTTER!’
Dolohov and another masked Death Eaters stood there, but even before their wands were fully raised, Tracey shouted ‘Everte Statum!’
And the Death Eaters were flung backwards several feet and then fell down the rest of the stair.
‘We have to run!’ she cried, and without arguing the began sprinting down a different corridor away from the first two Death Eaters.
A moment later the four of them ran into another set, and curse started flying over their heads.
‘Ebubio!’ shouted Allison and one of the Death Eaters became trapped in a large bubble. Theodore used the Full Body-Bind curse on another, and Harry cast the Incarcerous Spell on the final Death Eater in the way.
They could hear something coming, and so Allison shouted, ‘Get back!’ before she, Harry, Tracey, and Theodore hurled themselves against a door as a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting Professor McGonagall. She appeared not to notice them. Her hair had come down and there was a gash on her cheek. As she turned the corner, they heard her scream, ‘CHARGE!’
‘Harry, it should be you who uses the Cloak,’ said Tracey. ‘The rest of us will—‘
‘But he threw it over all four of them; large though they were he doubted anyone would see their disembodied lower legs through the dust that clogged the air, the falling stone, the shimmer of spells.
They ran down the next staircase and found themselves in a corridor full of duelers. The portraits on either side of the fighters were crammed with figures screaming advice and encouragement, while Death Eaters, both masked and unmasked, dueled students and teachers. Dean had won himself a wand, for he was now the one face-to-face with Dolohov, Terence with Travers. All four friends raised their wands at once, ready to strike, but the duelers were weaving and darting so much that there was a strong likelihood of hurting on of their own side if they cast curses.
Even as they stood braced, looking for the opportunity to act, there came a great ‘Wheeeeeeeeeeee!’ and looking up, Harry saw Peeves zooming over them, dropping Snargaluff pods down onto the Death Eaters, whose heads were suddenly engulfed in wriggling green tubers like fat worms.
‘Argh!’
A fistful of tubers had hit the Cloak over Theodore’s head; the damp green roots were suspended improbably in midair as Theodore tried to shake them loose.
‘Someone’s invisible there!’ shouted a masked Death Eater, pointing.
Terence made the most of the Death Eater’s momentary distraction, knocking him out with a stunning Spell; Dolohov attempted to retaliate, and Dean shot a Confundus Charm then Stun Spell at him.
‘LET’S GO!’ Harry yelled, and he, and the other three gathered the Cloak tightly around themselves and pelted, heads down, through the midst of the fighters, slipping a little in pools of Snargaluff juice, toward the top of the marble staircase into the entrance hall.
There were more duelers all over the stairs and in the hall. Death Eaters everywhere Harry looked: Yaxley, close to the front doors, in combat with Flitwick, a masked Death Eater dueling Kingsley right beside them. Students ran in every direction; some carrying or dragging injured or dead friends. Harry directed a Stunning Spell toward the masked Death Eater; it missed but nearly hit Neville, who had emerged from nowhere brandishing armfuls of Venomous Tentacula, which looped itself happily around the nearest Death Eater and began reeling him in.
Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey sped down the marble staircase: glass shattered on the left, and the Slytherin hourglass that had recorded House points spilled its emeralds everywhere, so that people slipped and staggered as they ran.
A body fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground. Looking up Harry could see the quick blur of the animalistic Fenrir Greyback.
‘No!’ Harry heard Canini howl in emotional turmoil and then she yelled 'Duro'.
And within seconds the body of Greyback had turned to solid stone. Harry thought Canini's attack would end with Greyback's petrification, but then he watched in shock as she shoved Greyback's stone form off the balcony, sending it to the ground below where it shattered. He couldn’t understand this action until he saw that the body below her next to the rubble that used to be Greyback was that of Remus Lupin.
‘Remus…’ Harry heard Theodore whisper.
‘Harry!’ yelled Allison in warning before she forcibly shoved his head down. A bright white crystal ball flew over where his face had been a second before and hit a Death Eater right on the top of his head, and he crumpled to the ground and did not move.
‘I have more!’ shrieked Professor Trelawney from over the banisters. ‘More for any who want them! Here—‘
And with a move like a tennis serve, she heaved another enormous crystal sphere from her bag, waved her wand through the air, and caused the ball to speed across the hall and smash through a window. At the same moment, the heavy wooden front doors burst open, and more of the gigantic spiders forced their way into the front hall.
Screams of terror rent the air: the fighters scattered, Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike, and red and green jets of light flew into the midst of the oncoming monsters, which shuddered and reared, more terrifying than ever.
‘W-we have to get out of here,’ Harry mumbled, but in reality he wanted to go to his sister who was currently suffering alone.
‘But how?’ yelled Tracey over all the screaming, but before either Harry, Allison, or Theodore could answer they were bowled aside; Hagrid had come thundering down the stairs, brandishing his flowery pink umbrella.
‘Don’t hurt ’em, don’t hurt ’em!’ he yelled.
‘HAGRID, NO!’
Harry forgot everything else: he sprinted out from under the cloak, running bent double to avoid the curses illuminating the whole hall.
‘HAGRID, COME BACK!’ But he was not even halfway to Hagrid when he saw it happen: Hagrid vanished amongst the spiders, and with a great scurrying, a foul swarming movement, they retreated under the onslaught of spells, Hagrid buried in their midst.
‘HAGRID!’
Harry heard someone calling his own name, whether friend or foe he did not care: He was sprinting down the front steps into the dark grounds, and the spiders were swarming away with their prey, and he could see nothing of Hagrid at all.
‘HAGRID!’
He thought he could make out an enormous arm waving from the midst of the spider swarm, but as he made to chase after them, his way was impeded by a monumental foot, which swung down out of the darkness and made the ground on which he stood shudder. He looked up: A giant stood before him, twenty feet high, its head hidden in shadow, nothing but its treelike, hairy shins illuminated by light from the castle doors. With one brutal, fluid movement, it smashed a massive fist through an upper window, and glass rained down upon Harry, forcing him back under the shelter of the doorway.
‘What the H—!’ shrieked Allison, as she, Tracey, and Theodore caught up with Harry and gazed upward at the giant now trying to seize people through the window above.
‘Stop!’ Tracey yelled, grabbing Allison’s hand as she raised her wand. ‘If you make him fall he could fall on the castle and—‘
‘HAGGER?’
Grawp came lurching around the corner of the castle; only now did Harry realize that Grawp was, indeed, an undersized giant. The gargantuan monster trying to crush people on the upper floors turned around and let out a roar. The stone steps trembled as he stomped toward his smaller kin, and Grawp’s lopsided mouth fell open, showing yellow, half brick-sized teeth; and then they launched themselves at each other with the savagery of lions.
‘RUN!’ Harry roared; the night was full of hideous yells and blows as the giants wrestled, and he seized Allison’s hand and tore down the steps into the grounds, Theodore and Tracey bringing up the rear. Harry had not lost hope of finding and saving Hagrid; he ran so fast that they were halfway toward the forest before they were brought up short again.
The air around them had frozen: Harry’s breath caught and solidified in his chest. Shapes moved out in the darkness, swirling figures of concentrated blackness, moving in a great wave towards the castles, their faces hooded and their breath rattling…
Allison stood by his side and Theodore and Tracey closed in beside them as the sounds of fighting behind them grew suddenly muted, deadened, because a silence only dementors could bring was falling thickly through the night, and Tonks was gone, as was his last remaining parent, and Hagrid was surely dying or already dead...
‘Come on, Harry!’ said Allison’s voice even though it sounded very far away. ‘Cast your Patronus, we need you!’
He raised his wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading throughout him: How many more lay dead that he did not yet know about? He felt as though his soul had already half left his body…
‘HARRY!’ screamed Tracey.
A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry’s despair, which was like a promise of a feast…
He saw Tracey and Theodore’s silver monarch butterfly and grass snake burst into the air, flicker feebly, and then both expired; he saw Allison’s doe leap in midair and fade, and his own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling…
And then a silver hare, a boar, and sparrowhawk soared past Harry, Tracey, Allison, and Theodore’s heads: the dementors fell back before the creatures’ approach. For a moment Harry mistook the hare for a jack rabbit and thought Tonks had saved him, but deep down he knew that wasn’t the case.
Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Terence.
‘That’s right,’ said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A., ‘That’s right, Harry…come on think of something happy…’
‘Something happy?’ he said, his voice cracked.
‘We’re with you all the way, Harry,’ said Terence. ‘We’ll fight by your side to the very end.’
‘Harry, I love you,’ whispered Allison.
There was a silver spark, then a wavering light, and then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost him the stag burst from the end of Harry’s wand. It cantered forward, and now the dementors scattered in earnest, and immediately the night was mild again, but the sounds of the surrounding battle were loud in his ears.
‘I am so grateful you all showed up,’ said Tracey shakily, looking at Terence in particular.
‘Yes, you all just saved our lives,’ said Theodore to Luna, Ernie, and Terence.
With a roar and an earth-quaking tremor, another giant came lurching out of the darkness from the direction of the forest, brandishing a club taller than any of them.
‘RUN!’ Harry shouted again, but the others needed no telling; They all scattered, and not a second too soon, for the next moment the creature’s vast foot had fallen exactly where they had been standing. Harry looked around: Tracey, Allison, and Theodore were following him, but the other three had vanished back into the battle.
‘We should get out of everyone’s range!’ yelled Theodore as the giant swung its club again and its bellows echoed through the night, across the grounds where bursts of red and green light continued to illuminate the darkness.
‘The Whomping willow,’ said Harry, ‘go!’
Somehow he walled it all up in his mind, crammed it into a small space into which he could not look now: thoughts of Remus, Tonks, and Hagrid, and his terror for all the people he loved, scattered in and outside the castle, must all wait, because they had to run, had to reach the snake and Voldemort, because that was the only way to end it—
He sprinted, half—believing he could outdistance death itself, ignoring the jets of light flying in the darkness all around him, and the sound of the lake crashing like the sea, and the creaking of the Forbidden Forest though the night was windless; through grounds that seemed themselves to have risen in rebellion, he ran faster than he had ever moved in his life, and it was he who saw the great tree first, the Willow that protected the secret at its roots with whiplike, slashing branches.
Panting and gasping, Harry slowed down, skirting the willow’s swiping branches, peering through the darkness toward its tick trunk, trying to see the single knot in the bark of the old tree that would paralyze it. The other three caught up, Tracey so out of breath that she could not speak.
‘S—so, how do we stop it from murdering us?’ gasped Allison, catching her breath. ‘My cat is still with Tulip—‘
‘We don’t need Shabaz,’ wheezed Theodore, bent double, clutching his chest. ‘We know way more spells now than we did then.’
‘Right—sorry—‘
Allison looked around, then directed her wand at a small rock on the ground and said ‘Wingardium Leviosa!’
The rock flew up from the ground, spun through the air as if caught by a gust of wind, then zoomed directly at the trunk through the Willow’s ominously swaying branches. It hit exactly at its target of a place near the roots, and at once, the writhing tree became still.
‘Great job,’ panted Tracey.
‘Wait.’
For one teetering second, while the crashes and booms of the battle filled the air, Harry hesitated. Voldemort wanted him to do this, wanted him to come...Was he leading his three closest friends into a trap?
But the reality seemed to close upon him, cruel and plain: the only way forward was to kill the snake, and the snake was where Voldemort was, and Voldemort was at the end of this tunnel…
‘Harry, I know how much you have lost, and how desperately afraid you are of losing anyone else, but we are with you for all of this,’ said Allison in a soothing tone. Her face then let loose some of her pent up rage. ‘Now let’s go bash in that snake’s skull!’
Harry wriggled into the earthy passage hidden in the tree’s roots. It was a much tighter squeeze than it had been the last time they had entered it. The tunnel was low—ceilinged: they had had to double up to move through it nearly four years previously; now there was nothing for it but to crawl. Harry went first, his wand illuminated, expecting at any moment to meet barriers, but none came. They moved in silence, Harry’s gaze fixed upon the swinging beam of the wand held in his fist.
At last, the tunnel began to slope upward and Harry saw a sliver of light ahead. Theodore tugged at his ankle.
‘The Cloak!’ he whispered. ‘You should put the Cloak on!’
He groped behind him and he forced the bundle of slippery cloth into his free hand. With difficulty he dragged it over himself, murmured, ‘Nox,’ extinguishing his wandlight, and continued on his hands and knees, as silently as possible, all his senses straining, expecting every second to be discovered, to hear a cold clear voice, see a flash of green light.
And then he heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of them, only slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel had been blocked up by what looked like an old crate. Hardly daring to breathe, Harry edged right up to the opening and peered through a tiny gap left between crate and wall.
The room beyond was dimly lit, but he could see Nagini, swirling and coiling like a serpent underwater, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floated unsupported in midair. He could see the edge of a table, and a long-fingered white hand toying with a wand. Then Snape spoke, and Harry’s heart lurched: Snape was inches away from where he crouched, hidden.
‘...my Lord, their resistance is crumbling—‘
‘—and it is doing so without your help,’ said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. ‘Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there…almost.’
‘Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please.’
Snape strode past the gap, and Harry drew back a little, keeping his eyes fixed upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding her, but he could not think of anything. One failed attempt, and he would give away his position…
Voldemort stood up. Harry could see him now, see the red eyes, the flattened, serpentine face, the pallor of him gleaming slightly in the semidarkness.
‘I have a problem, Severus,’ said Voldemort softly.
‘My Lord?’ said Snape.
Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor’s baton.
‘Why doesn’t it work for me, Severus?’
In the silence Harry imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled—or was it Voldemort’s sibilant sigh lingering on the air?
‘My—my lord?’ said Snape blankly. ‘I do not understand. You—you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.’
‘No,’ said Voldemort. ‘I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand…no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.’
Voldemort’s tone was musing, calm, but Harry’s scar had begun to throb and pulse: Pain was building in his forehead, and he could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Voldemort.
‘No difference,’ said Voldemort again.
Snape did not speak. Harry could not see his face. He wondered whether Snape sensed danger, was trying to find the right words to reassure his master.
Voldemort started to move around the room: Harry lost sight of him for seconds as he prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and fury mounted in Harry.
‘I have thought long and hard, Severus…do you know why I have called you back from battle?’
And for a moment Harry saw Snape’s profile. His eyes were fixed upon the coiling snake in its enchanted cage.
‘No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter.’
‘You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I knew his weakness you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come.’
‘But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by someone other than yourself—‘
‘My instructions to the Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends—the more, the better—but do not kill him. But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable.’
‘My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But—let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can—‘
‘I have told you, no!’ said Voldemort, and Harry caught the glint of red in his eyes as he turned again, and the swishing of his cloak was like the slithering of a snake, and he felt Voldemort’s impatience in his burning scar. ‘My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!’
‘My Lord, there can be no question, surely—?’
‘—but there is a question, Severus. There is.’
Voldemort halted, and Harry could see him plainly again as he slid the Elder Wand through his white fingers, staring at Snape.
‘Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?’
‘I—I cannot answer that, my Lord.’
‘Can’t you?’
The stab of rage felt like a spike driven through Harry’s head: he forced his own fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was Voldemort, looking into Snape’s pale face.
‘My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another’s wand. I did so, but Lucius’ wand shattered upon meeting Potter’s.’
‘I—I have no explanation, my Lord.’
Snape was not looking at Voldemort now. His dark eyes were still fixed upon the coiling serpent in its protective sphere.
'I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.’
And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.
‘My Lord—let me go to the boy—‘
‘All this long night when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here,’ said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, ‘wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner…and I think I have the answer.’
Snape did not speak.
‘Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.’
‘My Lord—‘
‘The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine.’
‘My Lord!’ Snape protested, raising his wand.
‘It cannot be any other way,’ said Voldemort. ‘I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.’
And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: but then Voldemort’s intention became clear. The snake’s cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.
‘Kill.’
There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape’s face losing the little colour it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake’s fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.
‘I regret it,’ said Voldemort coldly.
He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere.
Back in the tunnel and his own mind, Harry opened his eyes; He had drawn blood biting down on his knuckles in an effort not to shout out. Now he was looking through the tiny crack between crate and wall, watching a foot in a black boot trembling on the floor.
‘Harry!’ breathed Allison behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted sideways silently. As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room.
He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching the dying man: he did not know what he felt as he saw Snape’s white face, and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at his neck. Harry took off the invisibility cloak and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Harry as he tried to speak.
Harry bent over him, and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close.
A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape’s throat. ‘Take...it...Take...it...’
Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed form his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what it was, but did not know what to do—
A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hand by Tracey. Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Harry’s robes slackened.
‘Look...at...me...’ he whispered.
The green eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.
