Six

Snape had always thought it would happen outside of Hogwarts, a grand scene on the fields in front of the school, or in one of the Dark Lord’s safe houses with an invasion of Order members. Preferably with Snape already dead and gone.

But Snape was still alive, miserable and alive as his true loyalties still remained hidden after the end of the Battle, even to himself. The one wizard he had followed died by Snape’s hand, another wizard with no humanity left still expecting Snape to prostrate himself at his feet. How could have Snape continued to spy for the Order, their last defense a young boy who would have killed Snape without a second thought? All Snape had was the ability to deceive both sides until the end.

Wiping sweat and blood from his brow and donning his Death Eater’s mask, Snape stepped back into the smoke and stench of missed curses. Potter had already defeated the Dark Lord and was Merlin knows where, but small battles were still being fought by the Death Eaters who had escaped the night before. And though Snape knew it was cowardice, it would be so easy to be targeted with his mask instead of baiting other Death Eaters to incarceration. All he had to do was to be on the wrong end of an ignorant Order member’s wand…

Snape whirled around, following the path of his wand until it reached its magicked destination. In the shadows of the side street Snape had just exited stood Draco Malfoy, who was griping two wands in one trembling hand. His other arm seemed to be holding some writhing mass of blankets. Could it be that the Dark Lord had still found a way to return, there within those bloodstained sheets?

“Professor Snape… Severus.”

“I brought you to the Order to keep you safe, and this is how I’m repaid? If you’re going to kill me without me being able to defend myself, please do so without stuttering my name.” As he spoke, Snape wondered if the wizards who would clean up this mess later would remember to take his body.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Draco said, clutching the blankets to his chest. “I just remembered how quick you are with your wand, and–”

“Then what do you want with me?”

“I’ve asked a lot of you, and you’ve always been able to help. But I must ask you one more thing.”

Snape held back his rising retort. “What?”

“I need you to make the Vow.”

“After the fiasco with you and your mother, I will never make an Unbreakable Vow with a Malfoy again.”

“It’s not for me,” Draco almost whined. “It’s for… this.” Draco held the bundle up to Snape.

Snape walked toward Draco and pulled back a sheet. Within the many blankets lay an infant, recently born by the looks if its pink wrinkled skin and flecks of blood still on its face. Though it seemed to be newly born, a shock of black hair was on its head.

“She’s Potter’s girl,” Draco explained.

“And the mother?” Snape asked with a sick feeling in his chest.

“Dead, most likely.” Draco shook his head. “I didn’t see much – just the baby crying – I took her and Apparated. But they’ll be after me… and Potter–”

“You know what happened to him?”

“He’s worse than dead – in a coma or something. Please, Severus. Take the child. Raise her as your own.”

“I can’t. The Weasleys–”

“No time. Just take her… make the Vow.” Draco handed Snape his wand. “She’s life when there is none.”

“Don’t wax poetic on my behalf.” Snape gripped his wand tightly. “You know the spell?”

“Yeah.” Draco offered Snape the bundle. “It’ll help if you hold her.”

Snape held himself back, almost repulsed by the idea. He approached Draco and the bundle slowly, then remembered his mask might scare it. Ripping off the mask and tossing it aside, Snape held out his other arm and took the baby in his arms. It settled into him comfortably, its eyes fluttering closed. It was a miracle it hadn’t cried.

As Draco held out his hand, Snape asked, “Where’s the Bonder?”

“She’s here.”

Snape saw some movement to his left. The air parted to reveal Hermione Granger holding a silvery cloak.

“You had no time to contact the Weasleys, but plenty to enlist her help. What motives do you have here?”

Draco muttered something Snape couldn’t catch and said, “Doesn’t matter. Hermione?”

She came forward, holding out her wand, never taking her eyes off Snape. He responded to her heated gaze with a cold one as he took hold of Draco’s hand.

“Let’s begin,” she said, touching her wand to their joined hands.

After they finished the spell, Snape looked down at the child.

“What should I name it?” he asked. Once he had spoken, he cringed at the word he had been using in his mind. “Her,” he amended.

Draco spoke up before Hermione could suggest something insipid like Ginevra James. “Marie.”

“A French name?”

“My mother – if she ever had a daughter, that’s what she would have named her. Was my grandmother’s name.”

It was better than calling her Lily Sirius or some other nonsense. “Marie,” he said. The child smiled toothlessly in her sleep.

Snape looked around, preparing to Apparate. “Nobody has seen us here.”

“I put up a few glamours. You go first, or my spell will end,” Draco said.

Snape nodded and understood Draco’s impulse to hold the child closer as he did so himself.

“Take care–” Hermione seemed to choke back anything else she wanted to say, sliding on the cloak and Disapparating.

Draco pulled up the hood of his cloak. “Be safe.”

“You too.”