XXXI: Farewell, My Friend

Thanks to JKR for creating the HP universe.

Thanks to Apple Blossom for beta reading.

And thanks to you for reading and reviewing.

In this chapter, you will recognise passages from Rowling's 'The Phoenix Lament' and 'The White Tomb' (HBP). I'm only borrowing.

Chapter XXXI: Farewell, My Friend

I learnt about Dumbledore's death in the hospital wing, where I had woken up with a pounding headache and my right leg in a cast. And that had seemed odd, because normally Poppy mended broken bones in a heartbeat. Hence, a cast could only mean two things: that the injury was very serious or that something more urgent had distracted her. It was the latter.

When I heard Remus approach my bed, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I did not want him to see my tears.

~ ~ ~

Severus entered the little cottage and put down the basket on the table. The Scottish moors had provided him with all the herbs and plants he needed for his potion. But he wouldn't have to start it for another two hours. This potion was best brewed after midnight.

Once more, he stepped outside and sat down on the stone bench beside the door. The moon was barely visible for the fog, and there was not a single sound to be heard. Dumbledore had certainly picked a beautiful place for him to hide, Severus thought. Nobody would find him there. The cottage was Unplottable, and not even the Dark Lord knew of its whereabouts.

He had been hiding there for a couple of days now. He had come there directly after he had returned Draco to his mother. What would happen to the boy, he did not know. And for the time being, he did not care either.

He had not slept more than an hour or two since he had arrived at his hiding place. He had not even bothered to lie down on the bed. He knew that every time he closed his eyes, those blue eyes would haunt him. And he was not even sure if they were Dumbledore's or Morgaine's.

Dumbledore was dead, he knew that. But what about Morgaine? The last time he had seen her, she had just dodged a Killing Curse that had been directed at her. And then the roof had collapsed. And he had not had time to look back.

Severus buried his face in his hands. She must still be alive. If not, he would surely have felt it in his heart. But if she was dead, if she was gone when he returned to Hogwarts, if she was not there to stand by his side, how would he ever be able to go on? Who would give him strength? Who would hold his hand in the dark? Who would give him hope?

But there was no point pondering questions to which there were no answers. Slowly, Severus got up and went inside to sort the ingredients for his potion. He knew very well what risks he was taking. If anyone detected him, if he got caught, he would be brought directly to Azkaban and receive the Dementor's Kiss within the hour. But he had no choice. He had to get to Hogwarts.

When the clock struck midnight, he added the first ingredient to the cauldron. The potion would be finished the day of Dumbledore's funeral.

~ ~ ~

The day of Dumbledore's funeral dawned peacefully, even in the Scottish moors. Calmly, Severus chopped the last ingredients and added them to the dark green potion in front of him. Three clockwise stirs, three taps on the rim of the cauldron, and it was done.

For some moments, he just stared at the potion. It was a great risk, and Dumbledore would not approve, Severus knew that. He was risking everything. If he got caught, Harry Potter would stand alone, and all they had worked for would have been for nothing. But to hell with it, all of it.

He filled a goblet with the potion and toasted towards the skies. 'To you, Dumbledore. To you and your schemes.'

The potion tasted of liquorice and peppermint, and it worked immediately. After only a few seconds, Severus looked down over a black beak instead of his hooked nose, and as he held out his arms, he did not lift his flapping coat but two black wings. The transformation had been successful.

He hopped towards the open window, spread his wings and took flight towards Hogwarts. And anyone who spotted him would see nothing but a black raven.

~ ~ ~

It was the most wonderful of views. The Hogwarts grounds were bathing in golden sunlight, and the colour of the lake was the most magnificent green Severus had ever seen. Yes, Hogwarts had always seemed beautiful to him, but that day, it seemed more magical than ever.

He settled on a branch and carefully folded his wings. The tree he had chosen was at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest. If necessary, he would be able to retreat into the darkness of the forest in a blink of an eye, and still he was close enough to the lake to be able to oversee the funeral.

He let his gaze wander over the people who had already taken their seats. It was the strangest mix of people one could imagine, but they were all there for the same reason: to take farewell of one of the greatest wizards of all times.

There were the students of Hogwarts. Severus was pleased to see that even the Slytherins looked moved, some even shaken. After all, Albus Dumbledore had loved Slytherin House just as much as Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

There were the teachers of Hogwarts and the ghosts. There were friends and acquaintances of Dumbledore. And there were the members of the Order of the Phoenix: Arthur Weasley with his arm around his beloved Molly, Bill Weasley supported by his bride-to-be, and Remus Lupin and Tonks, holding hands. Severus could not help but smile sadly as his eyes lingered upon them. What had Morgaine said?

People will still die of old age, babies will be born, and people will still fall in love. The Dark Lord is not going to take this from us.

It was true. He could see the proof down there below him. And again, Severus smiled. Dumbledore would have loved to see this. He had always said that love was a precious gift, not to be cast aside but to be treasured.

He let his eyes wander towards the front row. Of course Morgaine would be standing there, right beside the enwrapped body. She was next of kin to Albus Dumbledore, heiress to his name. She was deadly pale which made the dark shadows under her eyes even more evident. There was a deep cut under her right eye, and Severus wondered why she had not bothered to heal it with magic. But despite her paleness, despite the ugly cut, Morgaine looked beautiful to him. Her robe was of the darkest green velvet, and her hair was shimmering in the same golden-red tone he had adored so many times in front of his fireplace in the dungeons. And around her neck, she wore the Witch's Star and the Wyvern.

Severus swallowed. The Wyvern. Why was she still wearing it? Was it out of sheer habit? Or was it actually possible that Morgaine stood by his side while the rest of the Wizarding world considered him to be a traitor, a cold-blooded murderer? Dared he believe? Dared he hope?

When the white flames erupted around Dumbledore's body and everybody stared at the spirals of smoke, Severus saw Morgaine avert her eyes, and for the tiniest of moments, he thought that she looked at him. And for the duration of a single heartbeat, he felt the familiar feeling of her thoughts brushing his. But it could not be. She could not have seen him, and if she had, he would have to turn away. If he stayed, he would not only put his own safety at risk but hers as well.

He stretched out his wings and took flight. High up in the sky, he circled thrice over the white tomb of Albus Dumbledore, saying goodbye to his old friend. And then, without looking back, he flew off towards the little cottage somewhere in the Scottish moors.

~ ~ ~

He was ripped out of his uneasy slumber by a humming sound. Wand drawn, Severus jumped out of the chair he had been sitting in and scanned the room, momentarily at a loss about where the humming came from. Then his eyes came to rest on the emerald glass cube on the mantelpiece, and suddenly he was wide awake: somebody had entered his private chambers at Hogwarts.

He had put protective spells on his door years ago. Not many wizards or witches were able to get around them at all. And in case somebody did, he had bewitched the mirror opposite the door. If someone entered his office, the emerald cube on the mantlepiece in his hiding place would show him whoever it was and what the were doing.

With three swift strides, he reached the mantelpiece and picked up the cube. Indeed, the door to his office stood open. But whoever had entered it had already passed the mirror, and hence he couldn't see them. But he could hear them. He heard soft footsteps on the stone floor, the rustle of robes, and then she came into focus. He should have known that it was Morgaine. She had long known which spells he had used to protect his chambers, and she could enter without blasting the door apart.

What was she doing there? She wasn't opening any drawers, so she couldn't be looking for something. Instead, she was just pacing the room, looking slightly lost.

Then Lupin appeared in the doorway.

'I thought I might find you here, kitten,' he said in a soft voice. 'You shouldn't be down here alone.'

When he reached out for her to place his hand on her shoulder, Morgaine shrank away and disappeared from Severus' sight once more, leaving Lupin standing alone in front of the mirror. Again, Severus could hear her pacing the room.

'What are you looking for, Morgaine?' Lupin asked.

'Shattered dreams and dusty memories.'

The sound of Morgaine's voice made Severus' heart ache. It was filled with tears, and Severus knew that they were tears of disappointment. She must feel as if he had let her down.

'What do you think happened on the top of the Astronomy Tower?' Lupin asked.

'I don't know, Remus. And I do not want to know.'

'What do you mean, you don't want to know?'

Her voice was trembling when she spoke. 'What is the point of me knowing, Remus? If what Harry says is true, then Severus Snape is loyal to the Dark Lord, and I will never forgive him for betraying my trust. And if he is innocent, then I have no means to prove it.'

There was a pause, and Severus could hear Morgaine's sharp intake of breath. When she spoke again, her voice was so thick with tears that he could barely understand what she was saying.

'Either way Severus is gone, and I don't know if I will ever see him again. And it breaks my heart not being able to do anything. So tell me, Remus, what is the point of me knowing what really happened?'

Severus saw Lupin shrug and heard a deep sigh from Morgaine.

'Exactly, Remus. There is no point of me knowing what really happened, if Severus is guilty or innocent. Because there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.'

Then her voice broke, and she started weeping. And as Lupin rushed towards her, he too disappeared from Severus' sight. For some agonising minutes, all he could see was the empty doorway. And all he could hear were Morgaine's sobs.

The sound of her crying hurt Severus more that any Dark spell had ever hurt him. Morgaine had never cried. During all the years that she had stood by his side, she had taken so much, she had carried the burden of those around her, and she had never cried, not once. And the fact that she was crying now just proved to Severus how hurt she was, how forlorn.

How he wished that he could take her into his arms. He wanted to beg her for forgiveness. And he wished that she had never gotten involved in the first place.

Then he heard Lupin's voice. 'You still love him, don't you, Morgaine? You still love Severus Snape.'

For a moment, everything stopped. Severus didn't breathe, his heart didn't beat. Even the wind had stopped whispering.

Please answer. He sent a plea through time and space, hoping it would reach her. Please answer, Morgaine.

But she didn't.

Severus clasped the emerald cube so hard that he could hear it crack.

In the name of the Goddess, I implore you, Morgaine. Answer him. Answer me.

But all he heard were footsteps, and all he saw was Morgaine and Lupin leaving the room and closing the door behind them. And then there was nothing but silence.

The world around him seemed to crumble, and Severus sank to his knees. Her silence was too much to bear. For him, it meant that Morgaine had given up, that she had turned away. And as much as he wanted to believe, he did not even dare hope that she might have nodded.