Atonement

Harry, Ron and Hermione set off into the Forbidden Forest at first light the next morning. They were accompanied by most of the overage members of the old DA (except Zacharias Smith whose behaviour at Dumbledore's funeral had placed him as firmly beyond Harry's forgiveness as Snape and Malfoy).

Kingsley Shacklebolt, who for the time being had taken over as Minister for Magic, had finally arrived at the castle half an hour earlier. He and his Aurors were staying up at the school to control the Dementors they had brought with them from Azkaban. Considering what had happened in Harry's third year when they had tried to finish off Harry as well as their intended target, Sirius, this was felt to be a prudent move.

Harry was trying to keep up his friends' morale, but they were all too aware of the enormity of the task before them.

'Snape's a superb duellist,' commented Justin Finch-Fletchley. 'Remember the duelling club in our second year?'

'Yeah,' scoffed Ron, 'but he was up against Lockhart, wasn't he? How hard can it have been?' He shot a pointed look at Hermione, who sighed theatrically.

'Oh, Ron! That was six years ago. Can't you let it drop?'

'You weren't so hot yourself, Ron,' snorted Seamus. 'You nearly took my bloody head off with that broken wand of yours!'

Ron went scarlet, and everyone else laughed including Harry. Ron and Hermione's bickering usually infuriated him (they had only been together six months and they already behaved like an old married couple), but today anything that raised people's spirits was OK by Harry.

********

Severus could hear them coming a mile off, laughing and shouting. They sounded as if they were off to Hogsmeade, for Merlin's sake! Then the voices stopped abruptly.

'Snape!' bellowed Potter. 'You can't escape. The Ministry's here. Kingsley Shacklebolt has given me permission to use any force necessary to round you all up.'

'See,' hissed Malfoy. 'You've got yourself and your Gryffindorish scruples to thank for this. I told you the Ministry would consort with blood traitors and Mudbloods.'

'Do not use that word!' Severus snapped. He was heartily sick of Malfoy whining about how he should have got his way over Potter. And not even in the face of another battle would he allow Malfoy to use that word. Not after Severus had confided in him about Alina. It wasn't just Lily's memory he had to protect against the pureblood faction now.

'Oi, Snape!' Weasley roared. 'Come out and face us, you murdering traitor! Or if you're too much of a coward, come out when you've worked up the bottle!'

Severus bristled, his blood pounding in his ears. Normally that sort of insolence would have earned Weasley a year's worth of detentions, but Severus had given up the right to discipline students on the night of Halloween. Besides, he was not going to be goaded into action. This needed careful thought. The appearance of the ghost last night had driven any thought of battle plans out of his head, and he could not afford to rush in like a fool.

********

The rest of the Slytherins seemed to have no such scruples. They hurled themselves at Harry's party with the enthusiasm of a good Quiddich match. Indeed, half the Slytherin Quiddich team were in the front ranks, and within seconds, Justin, Dean and Neville were locked in combat with Urquhart, the Captain, Chaser Vaisey and the reserve Seeker, Harper. Harry was pleased to see his friends were definitely getting the best of it. As he watched, Urquhart and Harper were felled by Impediment Jinxes and bound by Incarcerous Spells.

'Harry, look out!' Hermione's warning came too late. Harry was knocked backwards off his feet as Patrick Connor, Seamus' cousin, yelled 'STUPEFY!'

'PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!'

Hermione let out a scream and ducked as Ron's spell whistled past her and hit Connor full on. Connor fell to the floor face down, and Ron gave him a kick in the ribs to turn him over.

'Take him up to the castle,' Ron panted at Luna Lovegood, who was hanging back from the fighting, her pale eyes wide. 'Spell's "Mobilicorpus".'

Seamus had been watching the exchange, ashen-faced and rigid, as if he too had been petrified. He was so intent on the retreating figures that he did not hear Gregory Goyle sneaking up behind him.

'AV – '

Goyle didn't even have time to finish the word before Seamus' self-preservation instinct kicked in.

Whirling round, he screamed 'AVADA KEDAVRA!', and Goyle hit the forest floor like a tree being felled.

'That's for dragging my cousin into this!' Seamus roared. Even Harry, who had been baying for Connor's blood the day before, could understand Seamus' fury. Connor, who was in his sixth year, had turned seventeen the week before. While nothing had been said about the fate of the underage students, those of seventeen or above were facing a life sentence in Azkaban. Seamus, on the other hand, would be able to plead self-defence for Goyle's killing. He had the whole of his house as witnesses.

Blaise Zabini, meanwhile, was battling with Ernie Macmillan. Zabini was ducking and dodging Ernie's Incarcerous Spells, laughing mockingly and firing curse after curse at him. 'Sectumsempra!' he yelled.

The spell missed Ernie by a quarter of an inch and Ernie reacted with a speed he had not known he was capable of. His Killing Curse hit Zabini squarely in the chest, and the Slytherin died with the supercilious sneer still on his lips.

'And that's for Dumbledore,' Ernie said shakily, looking round for anyone else who wanted to take him on.

********

In fact, it didn't take long for the DA to round up the rest. Only the underage kids were left, and they had become separated from Snape and Malfoy in the fighting. Most of them seemed to have fallen victim to Ginny's Bat Bogey hexes and were desperate to get out of the forest and up to the hospital wing.

The Ministry, however, were interested in the ringleaders. Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep, slow voice, magically magnified by the Sonorus Charm, echoed through the forest. 'This is the Acting Minister for Magic. Those of you who give yourselves up now will be taken to Azkaban. Any resistance or refusal will result in the Dementors' Kiss.'

Draco blanched. 'The Dementors' Kiss?' he whispered. 'No. I can't stay here; I can't face that.' He was shaking uncontrollably. 'I'm going to give myself up. If I go to Azkaban at least I'll be with my father.' And he raced off in the direction of the castle.

'Malfoy!' bellowed Severus. 'Come back here and let me think what to do!'

But Draco, blinded by panic and deafened by terror, kept on running. He rounded the corner out of the forest and was lost to sight. Seconds later there was a blood-curdling scream followed by a sickening crack. Severus began to run, dreading what he was going to see beyond the trees.

Malfoy was lying, motionless, beneath the flailing, thrashing branches of the Whomping Willow. Bile rising in his throat, Severus grabbed a fallen branch and jabbed the knot on the trunk. The tree froze instantly. Severus knelt down under the branches, which were now swaying innocently in the breeze, feeling Malfoy's neck and wrists for signs of life. Nothing. He carefully turned the prone figure over. Blood oozed out from under the sleek blond hair. Severus gently wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of the boy's mouth with his robes and, with a leaden heart, carried the lifeless form back towards the forest. The boy's parents would want to bury him themselves.

He thought of Narcissa, her husband in prison and her only son now dead, and of Lucius, guarded day and night by Dementors. When Lucius was told of this, it would be the only thing the Dementors would allow him to remember for the rest of his life. And it was all Severus' fault. "I have a duty towards you," he had told Malfoy. "I am in loco parentis." Well, he had failed in his duty, and in the worst way possible. He would never be able to forgive himself for this. For any of it. Lily, Alina, Draco, all were dead because of him.

Severus laid Draco on the sleeping bag the boy had been using only an hour ago. He resisted the urge simply to sink to his knees beside the boy and wait for Potter to find him. There would be time enough to grieve later.

Suddenly, Severus felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and, looking up, experienced the same sickening jolt in his stomach as he had felt last night. Dumbledore's ghost was gliding towards him again, this time – Severus had to clap a hand to his mouth to stop himself crying out – accompanied by that of Alina.

Severus stood up and faced the Headmaster's ghost. 'Are you happy now?' he asked, with just a hint of a sneer. 'You still have the upper hand, have you not? Your defenders have picked us off one by one.' He held Dumbledore's gaze unflinchingly. 'I assume you have come for me?'

Dumbledore simply smiled. It wasn't a vindictive smile. It wasn't as if he wanted him dead out of revenge, Severus realised, but simply that Dumbledore knew it was the only way he would ever be at peace. Besides, Severus thought, he felt as if had a duty to finish what they had started on Halloween. Alina smiled and held out her hand, and Severus felt himself being drawn to her.

It wasn't that he was scared of Azkaban, and anyone who suggested otherwise would have been put right in no uncertain terms. It was the dishonour, the indignity of being paraded in front of the whole community by the Ministry that he couldn't bear. Few people believed he had been on the right side in the last decade, and most would be delighted to see him publicly tried, not only for Dumbledore's murder, but also for numerous resurrected charges relating to his time as a Death Eater. The thought of it turned his stomach. No doubt people would be quite happy to brave the Dementors in order to visit Azkaban and jeer at him.

He could give himself up and endure all the misery and ignominy the Ministry had in store for him, or he could die on his own terms and be reunited with Alina and Lily – the two people he had been trying to protect with all this.

Merlin knew he valued his honour more than he feared death.

Severus picked up Draco's fallen wand. It would have been more fitting somehow, would even have had a sort of poetic justice to it, to use his own wand, the one that killed Dumbledore. But a wizard's own wand would not work against him; it would either simply refuse to work, or it would backfire, directing the spell away from its owner.

Alina was still smiling at him, her hand outstretched. He held her gaze and took a deep breath, seeming to draw confidence from her calm presence. Then his eyes moved to the ghost of the Headmaster.

'You can rest in peace now, Dumbledore,' Severus said clearly. 'I did not kill you half so willingly.' And he raised Draco's wand.

There was a flash of green light, the ghosts vanished and the dark figure of Severus Snape fell to the floor.

*

A/N: 'Do not use that word!' is from DH Ch 33.