Forbidden Rapture

BY : Marionne25
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione
Dragon prints: 41264
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not making money from this story.


Author's Notes:

Happy New Year!!!



Now this is quite long because I’ve missed everyone and for some reason I’m very emotional as go reach the near-end of this story I’ve dedicated so many hours and nights and burning [K1] morninglights and coffee and cigs with hahaha.

I know it took forever and I’m going to apologize all over it again. There was work, and some other work and some other things like family and social drama and then there goes my lazy butt, my constant coffee moments thinking what I should do with my life that’s constantly being wasted by time and the idiots around me and most importantly, writer’s block.

  I’ve always foreseen the beginning of the story and the ending and along the way, I’ve weaved through the chapters in between and how I can connect the dots of the beginning and ending I’ve always known to come. There were changes along the way, additional things and smuts and ones that have been removed completely since they were of no true in depth relevance to the story.

I’ve always planned this to be a short fanfic and here we are today with chapter 68 and with only two last left and yes, an epilogue as I’ve already spoiled before.


This is a VERY long chapter and this is also quite a long note.


Because I feel there’s so much to be thankful for – my readers, my critiques, my friends and silent readers and everything else who check up on this or bump to see this from time to time. I know my language isn’t perfect but you managed to stay and read through until here today when we are nearing the end.

I need to admit that I’ve began this and I was still back in my last 2 years of college – my ojt years, the 1 sem I stopped for the preparation for my graduation recital (as I’ve mentioned before I’m a piano major in one of the 2 big uni in my country) and at the sem and year where I’ve taken my piano recital. These were hella of the time of my life because I can only do lesson plans and coffee and write and then there came the recital season where coffee, music writing and constants cigs and wonder about life if I should continue or not.

It’s not easy being a music major and certainly there were days I wished I just took writing as my major or better yet, took my slot as a law student years back when I was offered It when I passed the uni’s exam.

But music has always been my calling so today, I’m a teacher and performer on the side when I am not smoking or drowning myself with coffee all the while taking rides to work or at a café writing the night and morning light away.

I’ve written so many fanfics but there’s only a handful that’s ever seen daylight and this is one of the very few I’ve actually managed to reach an ending and fulfill.

It wasn’t easy writing this especially last July when the turmoil drama of my life came about and I ran away from home (yes, I did) for about a month and I lived off in cafes and some friends and all I did was drank coffee, smoke and write my stories and edit and watch my downloaded movies in my laptop and sleepless nights thinking if my mom was even looking for me. I was a fresh graduate and a month later, big drama at home came and I just had to leave and keep myself away from all the toxicity I was accumulating at home. Needless to say, the experience made me stronger and more mature and now I’m back home after that month’s worth of hiatus away from home, I’m building myself up in a lot of ways because I’m still as determined as ever to just leave this place where good is barely even a handful.

The drama you’ve read from this fic are mostly inspired by torn over, forgotten, laid and present or past emotions that were or have been emotions of yours truly and the people around me. I know this is a very heavy SS HG fic and this is one of the few I’ve taken into serious writing.

I love this and will always do so. I can’t promise I’m writing another sshg but perhaps but in another time and another kind of plot in a way or two. This was so heavy to write and if you would believe it, there were nights I’d be crying when I was writing the memories especially that of Harry’s and Hermione’s as if I was there to actually see them and feel what they were feeling. I guess I’m such an emotional idiot deep down.


Right so I’m not sure if I’ve managed to answer all the previous queries but if I’ve missed any feel free to ask them all again and I will check them out asap.

Heavy drama, slow burn and a lot of smut and rated chapters are what this story is made of and I now that there were just those times when you’re not sure who to kill if Sev, Hermione or the lunacy and monster growing in Harry. I welcome and respect whatever your view is over this fanfic.

As I’ve said, I’m never a fan of HEA type of fics, It’s very rare I appreciate those. I think that’s one cause when you grow up and you don’t see HEA around you right? But I think that’s what makes a good storyline or plot – the way you can weave through questions and endings that doesn’t really end in the expected ways it should or in clichés. Don’t get me wrong, everyone loves a happy ending; but maybe, just not everyone has seen enough to put them into writing.

I know most would love and expect a happy ending and I’m not saying it won’t have or that it would have. It’s just that, I write this way and I hope you like it and love the way it is written and ended as it was always meant to be that way. And I, as an author, would still respect your views on what I have written and plotted for roughly a few years back.

I will always love your reviews and every bit of you who took time to check and read and stay for this fic.

Having said all that, I know those who have been waiting are now dying to get to the story.

If there are things you see and read through this, please bear in mind that you can always go back through the chapters and if you’re too lazy you can ask me ‘where in that chapter was that said, told, shown, etc etc’ and I will gladly ask you because I have a bucks’ worth of notebook where every detail of this fanfic has been written way ahead.

And just a head's up: Harry will be using three types of spells at a certain part of this chapter. Please know these spells aren't made up but could actually be found in the books and were used/mentioned in the earlier books and I just found very good use for them here.



I also have my Dramione Fic on going – Through the Son (which will take my focus once this fic is done) and my first ever crossover fic Across the Universe which is Hermione and Loki from Marvel universe pairing. A few are still on the list but barely anything solid has come up.

Now we near the end, can anyone actually recommend a good song for this fanfic? I would love to hear your suggestions please and thoughts on that. And yes, I’m posting it now at this hour because later I’m so excited to grab my coffee at the café and read through your comments.


Hate me but not hate the characters.

With lots of love to give the world,






Chapter Sixty Eight

Soul Bound



“You must make that promise.” his voice sounded exhausted yet serious. “You must promise me that you will absolutely do whatever it takes.”

Snape didn’t answer him.

His black eyes were at the hearth of the fireplace.

The old man had been asking him things more than one that were beginning to be a burden to his heart and conscience.

The other night, it was about the ring, the boy and his inevitable death that he was to have a part of.

Tonight, it was another kind of favor, promise – mission rather – that he must keep for the old man.

“Young Draco is desperate, Severus.” Dumbledore said as he continued to stare at Snape’s unmoving form. “He will do whatever it takes to complete this mission – regardless of the consequences. He is young and desperate and when you are just both, one cannot think very clearly.”

“Draco knows exactly what he has gotten himself into.”

“As I’ve said, he is desperate.” Dumbledore calmly said but his eyes were evidently and strangely very serious as he stared at him.

Snape shook his head with a curl turning at the side of his lips.

“He thinks I’m the reason his family lost glory to the Dark Lord.” Snape said with utmost mock in his tone.  

“The Malfoy boy will blame anyone else but his father. He has been raised to think this way. You must know and understand this.”

Snape didn’t say anything knowing that this argument wasn’t going anywhere.

 “Severus.” Dumbledore quietly whispered at him. “I would not have asked if this isn’t important.”

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Snape suddenly said with coldness. “You always have to ask and you tell me it is relevant.”

“Because it is.”

“But I do not understand what Miss Granger has to do with all of these-“

“She has everything to do with all of it.” Dumbledore clearly and loudly said. “You know that she is the closest Muggle-Born to Harry Potter. And I’m sure that you know exactly what that means.”

“She doesn’t need protection.” Snape spat out.

But the headmaster wasn’t to be dissuaded by anything.

“There will come a time as we know of it that she will be inevitably tangled into all of these. She will be the most useful pawn Voldemort can use against Harry. She’s a Muggle-Born – a priority target of Voldemort and his followers.”

“Muggle Born or not we are all in danger and in priority list to be eliminated by the Dark Lord-“

“But not everyone is Harry Potter’s girlfriend.” Dumbledore interrupted firmly. “Most dear, most precious and most loved.”

Snape shook his head and stared anywhere else but at the headmaster.

“Potter and the rest of them will protect her-“

“It is different-“

“Then you should have warned Potter not to have a girlfriend in the first place!” Snape angrily yelled at the headmaster as if this was some big issue he had been harboring for a long time.

The headmaster stared at him, silenced but not completely surprised.

“I apologize.” Snape suddenly said breathing hard and walking away to face the bookshelf to calm himself down. “As I’ve said, this is no longer part of my job. He should have thought of the consequences of his actions. Miss Granger is absolutely not my problem.”


“You have Potter – you have Lupin – the Order, the Aurors – let’s not forget that clan of the Weasleys-“

“She would be in danger, Severus.” Dumbledore went on as if he didn’t say anything. “And it is up to you to save her if the time comes.”

“If the time comes?” Snape sarcastically said turning back to the headmaster. “Isn’t it always sup to me? I have to carry all these – all of them – these burden that these fools have brought upon themselves-“

“Miss Granger’s linage isn’t something she could have chosen-“

“Everyone is just all the same-“

“Am I a burden to you?” Dumbledore calmly asked him then with gentle eyes. “Am I?”

Snape didn’t say anything as if something had clogged his throat.

He looked away again and silence fell upon them.

“She will be a casualty if she is fated to be one.” Snape simply explained. “It’s a war, headmaster. It’s not like we can save everyone from it. People die every day – it’s not like you can fly out there and rescue each of those damned souls!”

But the headmaster was patient with him as he merely stared quietly back at Snape.

It made him feel uncomfortable.

He moved away again, eyes staring at the books at the headmaster’s large shelf with his fingers tracing the spine of those before him.

“Miss Granger trusts you.” Dumbledore said after a while. “She will always do and if there comes a time that your loyalty would be questioned when I am long gone, I assure you that Miss Granger will vouch for you.”

“Vouch for me.” Snape muttered back as he shook his head in mock. “I don’t need pity and I certainly don’t use people.”

“Yes, you don’t.” Dumbledore said. “You do not use people the way I do. You are not like me. No, you are far braver than myself. Not everyone can carry a burden that as yours and sacrifice as much.”

Another long silence and the headmaster knew that Snape no matter how defiant, cold and emotionless he was would always do the right at the end.


“I will save her if there comes a time that I have to – which is unlikely.” Snape said as he turned back to the headmaster with defeat over his features. “She is protected by Potter, Lupin and the others. But you do have my word.”

“I have your word?”

“You have my word, headmaster.” Snape sighed heavily as he moved to the headmaster’s desk and tossed over one of the D.A’s coins that he has found in the library a few days back when Hermione and Harry had rushed out of the place. “I will protect her should the circumstance arise that her life depended on me.”

“Thank you, Severus.”

“It is because it is my duty and not because I need someone like her to vouch for who and what I am at the end of all these.”

The headmaster nodded at his most favored teacher.

“Remind me why we sort too soon?” the headmaster asked with a gentle smile.

But Snape didn’t smile back at him.

“You ask for too much. But not every task should be repaid the way everyone wants to be repaid. I will protect her should the time and circumstance calls for it. Not because I need her to save my name and life in return.”

“But who would come to save you?”

Snape stared but nothing came out from him.

He never thought of it.

He always thought that no matter who won at the end of the war, he was supposed and meant to die – either at the hands of the enemy or at the hands of the Dementors at Azkaban.

Either way, he never really cared how he ended.

There were too many losses in his life already for him to care if he loses his own life.

But he knew there was an answer to the headmaster’s question for him and looking back at the headmaster, he seem to know the answer as well.

Someone out there would always sbe willing to save his life and protect him no matter the cost.

And to her, he had sworn his life and his loyalty.

“Will you be assured that Narcissa Black Malfoy will protect you?” the headmaster suddenly asked him as if he was able to read his thoughts. “Will she vouch for you?”

Snape turned and stared back at him, slightly astonished.

He opened his mouth but the headmaster was giving him a peculiar look.

“Are you spying on me?” he asked incredulously.

“Are you assured that Narcissa will keep her words, her promises at the end of all these?”

His eyes narrowed at the headmaster’s words.

He didn’t know Narcissa as much as he do so.

But he was also surprised that the headmaster knew the depth of their relationship.

“It’s not exactly your problem, headmaster if I may say so.” Snape said quietly not wanting to sound disrespectful. “I have a duty for the Order and that is well enough. I would like to keep my private life away from all these business.”

“And your duty as a godfather?” Dumbledore asked him. “Your duty as Narcissa Malfoy’s favourite man? I hope you don’t mind these questions if I may say so.”

Snape’s black eyes glinted.

He would do everything and anything that the headmaster would ask of him, but he wouldn’t let himself be treated this way.

No, his personal matters would remain his and at this point, whatever his relationship and affairs to Narcissa Malfoy was a personal matter that the headmaster shouldn’t be bothered about.

Narcissa Malfoy was his dearest friend and he cares not what he has to do for the woman.

His loyalty would be to her as hers was to him.

They were bonded by years of friendship, of a relationship that of a brother and a sister.

He knew the duties he had to finish and fulfill and knew where his loyalty lies.

And at the end of the day, should desperate situation calls for desperate measures, he knew that Narcissa Malfoy was the safety net he could fall back into.

But the world doesn’t need to know that.

“I can trust Narcissa Malfoy if that is your worry.” Snape quietly said looking away from the headmaster. “If you are still worried, you must know that Narcissa only cares about Draco. She loves her son too much, too deeply that if the time comes she has to switch sides, I assure you that she will.”

The headmaster didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at Snape’s rigid form.

He sighed heavily and Snape could feel the drain of energy from the old man and how weary he was.

“I never question the power of a mother’s love for a child.” Dumbledore said. “We are both witness to one that proves this clearly.””

Snape didn’t say anything and the headmaster continued.

“But I am rather worried about you.”

“About me?” Snape asked sharply turning to him. “Worried?”

He looked back at the headmaster as if he was mocking him.

Dumbledore calmly nodded at him.

“After all the mission and duties that you have done. I am worried about you.”

“Pray tell, going soft, headmaster?”

He stared at him for a long moment, pondering before smiling and answering him.

“Should a father not be worried for a son as a mother to a son?”

A glint passed his black eyes.

“You are not my father.” Snape firmly said.

There was a clear hurt in the headmaster’s eyes but it quickly vanished.

He smiled and nodded at Snape.

“I would not claim it that way.” Dumbledore said. “I have asked you too much, demanded too many things and asked you for things that a father wouldn’t ask for a son.”

Snape didn’t say anything.

“Headmaster, time is of the essence. If there is nothing else-“

“I need you to be careful of yourself, Severus.” the headmaster said and he walked to him and firmly grasped his arm. “I need you to stay alive. Too many lives depend on you.”

He momentarily looked down over the arm that was grasping his and then back up at the headmaster.

Their eyes met for the last time.

“I will protect anyone I could.” Snape promised him and he gently reached for the hand that Dumbledore was slowly losing over the curse. “And will keep it that way until the very end no matter the consequences”

“Even if your life becomes its payment?”

“I have long ago lost that.”

“Even if it means losing your soul?”

“I have nothing to lose, headmaster.” Snape clearly said with a gentle and small smile. “I would do everything in order to save anyone and everyone I could with everything I still have.”

The headmaster looked back at him and a twinkle in his eye passed.

He smiled back at the younger man and nodded.

“This is why I trust you above all others, Severus Snape.”





Whatever Harry had expected to find nor feel as he entered the cottage that housed Hermione for the past decade, was something he wasn’t fully prepared for.

He might have been determined but it was a hasty and aggressive decision nevertheless.

But there was no going back.

He was there at that moment and he was going to do what he came for.

There was an eerily feeling creeping up inside him as he took a step forward and gently pushed the door with the tip of his wand.

The slowly creaked open and what lay ahead of him was nothing but darkness and the smell of an abandoned place.

“Lumos.” Harry whispered as he took another step forward.

He stood in a tormenting silence at the entrance door of the cottage with nothing but his dimly lit wand and eyes he was forcibly restraining to shed a drop of tear.

Harry sighed as he moved forward with each step heavier than the last he has taken.

He inhaled sharply as he gripped his wand tighter, casually adjusting his glasses and telling himself that he was strong enough for this task – that he wasn’t going to shed a tear as he walked himself through the place.

The eerie feeling didn’t leave him as he sighed heavily for each step he took into the dingy and rotting cottage that has been eye and witness to Hermione’s suffering for the past ten years.

Out of the blue, rain began to gently spatter outside the cottage and he had to stop walking as he listened to the gentle fall of rain.

He blinked and he stared at the horrible view that lay before him.

Harry thought that the heavy stench was nothing compared to the heaviness of the energy made out of despair in that bungalow.

He inhaled and convinced himself to move forward, to be brave enough to face and see through the past – the life Hermione had lived.

He had always been there at all the trials taken and he had been all ears and well-focused when Hermione or Snape took the stand and related their stories and experiences at the cottage.

But to be there, to be at the very place where it has all happened felt very real, very different, very heavy and dark in comparison to their words at the Wizengamot.

Harry paced slowly, nostrils inhaling the strong scent of old wood, cement and the smell of the grounds and sea around the cottage.

The feeling tugging heavy into his heart was absolutely far and nothing compared to the time they raided and rescued Hermione from the place a few months ago.

The cottage had been left completely untouched since the trial was ongoing and every bit and piece of disastrous and broken evidence still lay as they had been from the day they were left.

He had been here and yet walking back at the eve of his own wedding felt very different, very difficult.

Every step he made sent out a spin of emotions inside of him, stirring all the deeply embedded and deep-seated sorrow and anguish in him.

This was the place Hermione has been for the last ten years – this is where he had lost her forever.

He felt like it was taking all his energy just by being there as he moved forward, aiming to make way for no particular direction in the abandoned house.

Harry knew he was alone at this part of the island but he still felt different.

Something deeply ached in his heart as his eyes roamed the dark and dilapidated place.

It was like since the moment he entered, he could swear that he could hear Hermione’s cries, her agonizing wails all those years at her desperate attempt to seek for help – a help that never came – a help that didn’t arrive ten year later and ten years too late.

His green eyes began to itch with hot tears as they scanned the upturned, broken and dilapidated pieces of objects in the house that were destroyed when they attacked the place.

And as he scanned them, he could swear that he could see memories of what must have taken place there in the cottage on a daily basis as if he was there to witness all those years.

It was breaking his heart deeply.

He wasn’t there and he wished he was there to heed to her cries, to run to her and protect her from Snape’s acts of violence where he took everything that was her from him.

A few jet of sparks shot out from his wand as these bits of thoughts taunted his mind as he moved across the broken pieces of objects that he passed.

There was a slight creak.

Harry looked down as he had stepped on what looked like a small wedding souvenir that has been broken in half with what looked like a fallen and broken picture frame of Snape and Hermione.

It was a photograph of them at a café at what looked like a train station for a backround; judging by the way that Snape looked healthier and his hair slightly shorter, it must have been taken not so long ago but a mere few years back.

Bending over and with the light of the tip of his wand as guide, Harry picked it up and stared.

It looked like Hermione was the one who wanted the picture because despite that Snape was gently smiling in it, he looked almost reluctant while Hermione was wearing a big smile over her face.

 A smile that Harry had not seen for a very long time – ten years in fact.

His hands were shaking as he held the frame in his hand – something inside him had broken again.

Harry screamed and with all his might, he threw the photo frame away where it shattered and clattered loudly onto the floor.

He breathed heavily, trying to focus his mind before he completely loses it.

There was no going back now – no need to go back to the past.

Hermione was his bride in the morning and will forever be his.

But why was he so angry?

So unhappy?

Because justice has not yet been served.

And it would only do so once Snape lives through and endure the reality that Hermione will never be his.


He will suffer at Azkaban and die with the thought of it.

He moved and turned around and saw the dimly lit outside of the cottage through a broken window from the collapse with the view of waves crashing from the distant part and the rain pouring down against the glass.

He had taken his research and had read that it always rained at this side of the island.

How long did Hermione survive those many nights and days where the rain poured without an end, without a sun to be seen?

Hermione had not clearly seen sunlight for ten years.

There was nothing but stormy nights in this cottage that wrapped around it and engulfed every bit of warm life within.

Another echo in his ears and mind, another echo of Hermione’s cries and suffering in what must have been those lonely nights.

He could swear that it wasn’t just his mind nor his imagination – he could almost just hear and see every bit of reality that must have taken place in that cottage and how it destroyed Hermione’s life in the everyday that she lived there.

He fell on his knees as hot tears poured from his eyes.

“STOP IT! STOP! GO AWAY!” Harry screamed in anguish as he pulled another all-out with his wand. “GO AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”

He fell back on the ground out of exhaustion and heard the shattering of objects.

Hot tears spilled form his eyes, he was still screaming very hard but he knew that nobody would hear him.

Just like Hermione where nobody has ever heard her cries and screams of desperate plea for rescue.

Harry’s fist bled when he punched the floor once, twice.

The debris littered floor was also littered with the helpless life Hermione had lived without the rescue she must have desperately cried and prayed for endless of days.

How could he not hear her?

How could none of them ever feel the magical connection he was sure she attempted to use?

She had been abandoned for so long and fate had let it all happen.

Was he not a war hero?

Did he not give, sacrifice enough for many others for fate to take this much from him?

The walls were paneled with Hermione’s agony and were all witness to the cries at the nights she must have pleaded against Snape to touch her, not to kiss her, not to take her anymore because she can no longer.

Another cry of agony and he punched once, twice.

He punched thrice and again until his knuckled began to bleed further.

Was he that weak that he didn’t hear her cries all those years?

Did Snape weaken and suppress her powers so much that their magical connection had been lost and she can no longer reach him?

He wanted so bad to go back in time to save her but that would cause her to endure everything all over and he can no longer take that.

He knew she cried for him and he was miles and a lifetime away to hear her then.

Harry screamed in agony.

“Harry Potter..”

Harry stopped moving.

He was silenced by that call of his name.

Something ghostly had passed him and he felt its presence very strongly.

No, it wasn’t his imagination.

Something beyond the secluded walls had called his name for which he clearly heard over the growing spatter of rain from the outside.  

He shook his head, tears running from his once warm eyes.

He was turning mad and he knew it.

He wouldn’t deny it from himself any longer – he knew he was losing it or had lost it a long time ago. .

But he had gone this far to back out, he had gone this far to give up on Hermione.

All the bit of hatred in him was growing and consuming all the morsel of his body for the injustice that has been done to Hermione, to him.

Nobody batted an eye for it.

Not until he had been right that Hermione was indeed alive out there, survived the war like him and had been crying for help and rescue that which fate had selfishly deprived them of.


He sharply turned his head, looking around him with high alert from all his senses.

But he knew he was very much alone in that place  - only the magical scroll he had accumulated from Kingsley could come allow entrance to the perimeter of the cottage and no one else.

But he knew he was very much alone in the place.

There were wards all around him and the only reason he got through was because of the signed scroll he had accumulated from Kingsley.

He listened intently for the ghostly whisper to come back.

It wasn’t Hermione’s voice but it was a woman’s and it was eerily familiar.

He knew and has heard of that voice some somewhere before.

And then he felt it.

A strong surge of something like presence and power passed him.

He turned and whirled around, standing up in haste with his wand pointed around him.

“Who’s there?!” he angrily screamed despite knowing he was alone in the abandoned bungalow. “Show yourself!”


Nothing but the sound of the rain.

But he could feel it.

The years of training, he can now tell that something strong and something magical was still binding the cottage – from its depth – an unseen line of power that was consuming whoever was dwelling within the cottage.

Some form of magic was secretly formed around the perimeter of the cottage.

Something that was possibly hidden from plain sight but he could terribly feel its powerful surge from beneath him.

And right now at this very moment, he could feel its consuming strength knocking upon the weakened and barren walls of the cottage, awakening and waiting to be found.

Harry whirled around him, listening intently for something – anything – that would call upon him again.

He pointed his wand around, trying to seek for anything that it could pick up.

Harry’s emerald eyes gleamed as his brows furrowed as he slowly realized something.

When they raided the cottage, wards were placed to keep any form of defensive magic to take place from the attack they made.

Whatever protection wards around the cottage at the time would be weak enough from their attack and he made sure of that.

It was slightly blurry in his head, but now that he came to think of it, there weren’t much wards for them to take down at that time.

There was the wards of any location from being easily penetrated but nothing, no form of strong magic had been defensive enough to be taken down or to block them from their attack that’s why from a four on four sides and five from the deck that the Aurors attacked in formation, they easily managed to get inside the cottage.

A sudden thought occurred to him.

Snape had taken down the strong wards protecting or shielding the cottage from exterior forces at the day of their wedding of all days.

But why?

Harry turned again, his footsteps echoing as he slowly walked around the place, feeling through his veins the traces of magic that were still scattered and littered all over the cottage and its grounds.

He was thinking, thinking hard.

Was his decision to marry her enough reason for him to trust fate, to trust the world again that he decided that from that day on, he could become assured that life was going to be better that there was no need to hide, no need to place all the wards and protective charms around the cottage?

Harry turned around him, looking for any trace of magic, any trace of evidence and support in the question forming in his head.

From the report that was handed to him, they were able to trace forms of magic and defensive spells that were used as wards around the cottage to understand why it had taken long for others to feel the magic emitting from the place or what made the whole place untraceable for all those years.

Snape was a strong and powerful wizard and he certainly left strong type of magic behind the moment they were able to take the whole place down and take claim over the power that was surrounding and protecting it.

And these traces that the Aurors have come to gather were type and sort of magic that had been there as it seems, since the day that he had taken her and kept her in the cottage.

However, if he would think clearly and in terms of analytical form, the type of magic and wards they’ve taken down on the day of the raid and rescue of Hermione, he was sure that the wards they’ve penetrated through and taken down weren’t even half as powerful as what were the type of magical traces the reports’ data had analyzed and taken.

Something was amiss.

Why were the wards and form of defensive or rather protection charms less on the very day that Snape should have secured everything at its highest form and extent?

“Harry Potter…”

Harry sharply turned.

He had heard it again and this time, clearer and closer.

He had stopped and reached what looked like a part of the cottage that has been abandoned strategically when they sourced out for evidences.

There was a small staircase that lead downstairs.

A basement.

Wasn’t Hermione found at the basement or so?

Didn’t they rescue her from the basement, buried deep under spells of protection to keep her from being hit by the fallen walls from their strong attack of the place?

Harry lifted his wand to light the staircase that led down to the basement of the cottage.

Putting together the information in his head, if he was correct, this was the place where Snape had created his potions of sorts to be sold for a living for Hermione and for himself all those years.

This was also the place where he claimed to have healed her several times over when she accumulated injuries and when he first healed her from the ambush’ injuries.

Thunder and lightning now consumed the skies and the rain threaded louder outside the cottage giving Harry an even more creepy feeling.

But there was absolutely nothing in this world that scared him anymore.

When you lose the most important thing for yourself, you lose all types of other emotion within your system and fear was no longer part of his body.

But there was something about that basement that seemed to house something far more haunting than he was expecting.

Harry closed his eyes and inhaled sharply the strong and pungent smell of old wood and debris that were accumulated from that very spot.

It felt and smelled like something had died in there.

He tried to block away all thoughts from his head – the horror and the agonizing struggle and suffering that Hermione must have had endured down below that basement was something he could barely endure as the thought crosses his mind’s eyes.

The things Snape could have done to her down at the depths of it and miles and miles away from all of them, Hermione must have screamed nights after another and there was no one coming for her.

His fists clenched tightly at the thought and he tried to block out the hot tears forming in his eyes.

He loved her so much, so dearly and did everything he could to protect her and take care of her.

And Snape had taken all that she was just because he had a night, a moment of choice where he could steal her life away from all of them.  

Hatred filled his veins as it seems it was the only feeling that was giving him courage these days and he gradually pointed his wand ahead and slowly took the dirty steps that led down the basement.

He could feel the musk, the dust and the smell of old wood together with the grassy mosses that lay up ahead at the grounds around the cottage.

He could even sharply smell the faint salty scent of the grassy field, the damp sands and the sea way ahead from the cottage.

How could he keep Hermione in this place for so long, for so much of those years with nothing but misery and an unknown life with only him as her company?

How could he keep her down there, miles away from the life and loved ones she knew so dearly and lived through every day with his conscience of what abuse he had done to her and does to her every day?

Tears leaked down Harry’s face.

He knew the depths of her pain but at that very moment, walking through the very floor and walls from which she had lived through in all those years, far and away from all of them, he knew that the damage that had been done to her was irrevocable and that bringing her out of the state that Snape had been her hero that survived her through the war would take more than a lifetime to gain.

He had brainwashed her and seeing all these now, he knew that Snape had been embedded deeply into her soul – farther than he had ever been and possibly, farther than he would ever be able to go through.

Anger and hate flowed through his blood as he reached the last steps of the basement.

“Lumos Maxima.” Harry was able to whisper with the little physical energy he has after all these tormenting scenes before him that was bringing more than anguish and exhaustion in him – emotionally and mentally.

The light from his magic lit the whole basement and from the little spot where he stood, he could see everything clearly.

The basement was linen with black and green carpet, a small old looking couch set lay at the corner, several bookshelves paneled the walls, a long table was at the side from where abandoned and left potion bottles, potions and ingredients lay next to several books.

Snape had been working up to the last minute before the wedding day.

It was almost as if he was waiting for something else to happen before the wedding that he was living the day before with such routine.

Harry walked towards the large working table and stared at the scattered objects.

He picked up some vials and read their labels and stared at the stacked parchments, several notebooks and books at a side.

Most of them were neatly piled up in a corner as if he had been working overnight and had decided to clean up only several hours before their supposedly wedding.

Vials lay in array at the side of the table and two empty ones had been turned over perhaps from the impact of the attack.

He looked around and saw the very spot where the ceiling had vaguely met the walls and the stone floor where the part of the cottage collapsed rapidly after the third attempt of attack from the outside and where Snape had attempted to push Hermione down to keep her away from the collapsing structure.

It was as if he had been there, he could purely imagine Hermione being laid down there on the floor or over the couch of the basement and Snape atop her, doing god-knows-what and taking everything that was her and Hermione screaming helplessly for no one.

He blinked and looked away from the spot.

He didn’t need to be reminded of the day they found her, of the day he expected to see tears of joy in her eyes upon seeing him finally there to rescue her after all those years of abandonment and suffering.


It called him again and this time, it was loudest and most clear.

He lifted his wand trying to trace where the voice, the power was coming from and it was very near him, inches away from him.

His heart was racing, beating fast.

He was at the depths of the cottage that he could barely hear the uproar of the rain hammering outside and up above him.

He could hear nothing but his own heartbeat and feel nothing but the strong surge of power within this part of the cottage.

There was something else, some sort of magic that they were not able to trace on the first time they’ve been here.

But right now that he was there, alone and very much aware of all the kinds of magic he could possibly trace, he could feel it greatly.

There was another type of magic that has been housed and kept within the cottage and it was buried secretly at this part of the cottage.

He was an Auror and these were the type of charms, spells and magic he had been trained to recognize and once more, if he would be analytical about it, he could tell that the source of magic had always been there, untouched and laid buried beneath the layer of strong magic that Snape withheld around the cottage.

Snape never seemed to touch or understand or even know that another source of magic was within their premises and in full existence.

But of whom?

Hermione’s magic had been dying all these years from lack of use and contact of a wand and Snape certainly made sure of suppressing her powers by means of emotional torture.

But he could feel it right at that very moment, it was so strong it was almost as powerful as –

“Dark Magic.” Harry whispered as he paced around the room, wand lifted as he tried to trace where it was coming from.

Years of training should not fail him into finding where it was or who had made it.

It was strong and was growing stronger by the moment he stayed there trying to find it.

It was like, it wanted to be found.

And if he could just settle his heart and mind and focus greatly, he could feel that it wasn’t just made out of Dark Magic or possibly not of Dark Magic at all but what they called as Old Magic.

He knew all about the Dark Arts from the time he decided to be a full professional Auror.

He wasn’t exactly at the top of Lupin’s class nor did he graduate with flying colours at Defense Against the Dark Arts for nothing.

This was the type of magic that had been concealed through time and mastered only by a handful of witches or wizards.

Most importantly, only ever used by old ancient families of Purebloods, of the oldest of lineage.

Harry suddenly halted and stared.

His wand was pointed at an old, dusty and broken bookshelf before him where he could feel the strongest traces of it.

Harry’s eyes narrowed at the location his wand was pointing over.

He sharply turned and something heavy in his pocket clanked.

The key.

The key that he had picked up earlier and Draco Malfoy was most likely looking for at that very moment.

Without removing his wand from the place where it was pointed directly at the old and dusty bookshelf, he fidgeted in his pocket with his free hand to take the key from it.

He pulled and lifted it out from his pocket, taking it out and placing it up ahead of him where it could be hit by the shadowed light from his wand.

Something about the key and the light from his wand that was pointing at the bookshelf seemed to matter very greatly at that moment.

Could it be?

Something tells him, something was nagging him that it was what was supposed to happen and he was where he was supposed to be.

Harry stared at the intricate design of the key and then at his wand and back at the old bookshelf.

He had mostly always been right in following his instincts.

But it didn’t make much sense and there was absolutely nothing in the bookshelf that could house a secret storage or drawer of any sort for him to use the key for.  

He gently moved forward, two steps ahead to near the shelf and tapped his wand over it.


He moved his hands around the edges of the shelf hoping to reach for some sort of secret slot or secret drawer or for some miraculous movement from its broken pieces of wood.


He tapped again over the shelf hoping that some drawer would come out and reveal itself to him.

There was nothing.

He felt he was wasting his time away with it.

But something, some sort of instinct was telling him that he was where he was supposed to be and doing something that was closest to what he desired.

Harry had decided to be there tonight in order to look for something, anything – some sort of evidence – that would be placed against Snape in order for him to gain the highest form of penalty from the Azkaban which was to be Kissed by the Dementors.

No, he wasn’t really planning to follow his promise to Hermione.

What he had planned was for them to get married and for the jury to give penalty that Snape would spend years at Azkaban and after the years served, would still be taken down to the halls of the Dementors for The Kiss.

That was his plan.

Snape was already dying as he was, weakened at his devastating state at Azkaban but he wanted to make sure that he won’t be able to evade death even long after that he was married with Hermione.

And by the time that would happen, he would also be miles and miles away from London and years and lifetime away from there with her living the life she always deserved and the life he always wanted for them.

She would come and deem to think that marrying him, he would fulfill her his promise and they would live happily ever after.

And little would she know that years later, the Wizengamot could revoke its given penalty and due to the course of whatever evidence he may have procured for tonight, would come to conclude that Severus Prince Snape would still deserve the Dementor’s Kiss.

All would come down to what he wanted to happen in the time that he wanted it all to happen.

What Hermione wouldn’t know years later would certainly never harm her.

And by that time, she would be too happy living her life with him to even remember to care for what has taken place with Snape at Azkaban.

But right now, he couldn’t find any evidence that would lead to that kind of happy ending in his plans he had in his mind.

But there was something in that very spot, hidden in plain sight, from which he knew he would find something relevant that would change everything.

His green eyes scanned the room, his ears all out for any other sound and all his other senses aware to every bit of movement and magic that was taking place around him.

He stared back against the dusty shelf, key in his other hand and wand pointed directly atop one of the shelves.

The answer was here, somewhere, somehow.

And once he finds it, he could finally secure his life and future with Hermione.

“Finite Revelio..” Harry firstly whispered and a blue light emitted from his wand.


“Aparecium.” Harry muttered recalling the spell from Hermione.

Another type of light appeared from his wand but only bounced back and around the shelf and then vanished.

Revealing Charms were no apparent use.

But perhaps he was using the wrong type of incantation.

His eyes darkened and he gripped his wand tighter.

He opened his mouth and hesitated.

He has never used this one spell before for he only saw Lockhart use it once in their second year and has been introduced further by Lupin in his third.

Although practiced over in his Auror training, he had never actually had the means to actually use it.

But if what he was looking for was an advance type of magic to be revealed, concealed by Dark Magic, then it was the right incantation he needed.

He took two steps back from the shelf and made the wand movement that was required for the spell.

Harry breathed deeply before casting the charm.

Verdimillious.” Harry whispered softly with the gentle wand movement.

A light, and then green sparks like that of the Killing Curse emitted from the tip of his wand.

It was a stray light and then it slowly thickened and glowed brightly and grew bigger, consuming an expansion and part of the bookshelf.

He watched as the light moved in ways and zags as if following a pattern that wasn’t easily seen by the naked eye.

The light moved as if scanning, searching for something it was certainly sensing.

But he could also feel it, it was the right spell and something was happening this time.

He backed away a few more steps with wand and key still gripped tightly in his hand.

The light appeared to be fighting something, some form of strong Dark Magic.

And then he saw it, a momentary appearance of black smoke from somewhere in the bookshelf before it vanished completely.

He took one step but the light from the incantation became strong for one split moment that it blinded him momentarily.

And as fast as it had come, the black smoke was gone and the glow of the Verdimillious Charm was slowly fading.

No…” Harry desperately whispered out of fear that his magic had been blocked by some stronger force, still trying to conceal whatever Dark Magic was hidden beneath that place.

Harry stared in silence, heart beating fast as the green and gold light slowly dispersed before him.

But before it completely vanished out of thin air leaving the small Lumos from his wand, something happened.

An ordinary looking book from the upper left part of the shelf where the black smoke had disappeared had suddenly moved and had fallen without warning over the carpeted floor as if some invisible hand had taken it out from it and had accidently dropped it.

Harry stared, heart skipping a beat at the ghostly way it had made its Dark Magic presence felt.

The green light vanished as did the black smoke.

The black looking book lay on the floor.

Harry stared, unsure if it was what he was looking for.

But his magic had worked.

With slightly unsteady hands and sharp breathing pattern, Harry slowly knelt down and bent forward to pick it up.

It was a small black book, a diary.

It was dusty as if it had not been taken out from its place from years and it looked old and intricately designed as if it had once belonged to some privileged owner.

Harry turned it over and found that it was locked.

But it didn’t take long, it didn’t take some brilliant mind for him to understand that it had all come down into this very moment after all these time.

He lowered his wand, lighting only very minimal part of the spot he was on the floor as he fidgeted with the key and quickly extracted the chains from his hand and charged for the small keyhole for which it was meant to be after all.

He found it.

Harry slotted the key inside it and it was the perfect fit.

But he didn’t turn the key – no, not yet.

He was breathing hard, unknowing why he was suddenly feeling this way.

There was fear in him and fear had not visited him for a long time.

Something about turning the key, revealing the secret of whatever it was that he had found would surely change a lot of things by morning light.

He had Hermione in his hands and arm’s length and Snape was at Azkaban helpless as he could possibly be waiting for a life at the call of his mercy.

He had everything he wanted, everything he had prayed for in years.

And he was there, at the cottage, wanting for more, garnering for something more and beyond that could place Snape at the brink of death only because he thought and felt that he hasn’t gained the justice he was looking for Hermione.

Or was it for Hermione?

What more did he really want?

It was like light has been lit up in him and suddenly, some senses was coming into him after all the time that he was blinded by his anguish about everything.

Hot tears began to form his eyes again and his hands shook as he held the key and the diary in his hands.

Harry shook his head, trying to throw away all the conscience that was suddenly growing inside him of at that moment out of all the time it could possibly grow.


His hands were shaking suddenly, somewhere at the depths of the goodness in him still lived inside of him and was wanting to be felt at that moment.

He had a goal and a purpose and nothing in this world would change it.  

Not even anything that he may find the moment he turns the key and opens the diary.

Harry heavily breathed and recalled all the laws he had broken, the lives he had placed at his mercy just to get himself there at that place and to gain access into anything he would like to.

He had gone that far to close this book in his hand and forget everything and walk back to Hermione and wait for the hour of their wedding as if all of it didn’t happen.

She was with him at that godforsaken place at that goddamn moment mulling things over and possibly with Draco Malfoy.

Did they think they could feign him into another sort of reality like the years Lupin and the rest of the Order had done to him?

No, he knew truth.

He wasn’t gullible any longer and he wasn’t by any means a coward not to face them for the truth each of them were.

He would goddamn kill for Hermione if he had to so they could obtain peace and justice both deprived from them.

There was truth in here and that would service justice for all of them.

Determined as he had always been in search of anything that could protect Hermione and give her the justice he always wanted for her and for them both, Harry turned the key at the slot it fitted in.

There was a click and something loosened within the ancient intricate design of lock and key.

And then the diary slowly turned heavy as the book turned itself up to open.

Harry threw it over the floor, feeling the magical source of Dark Magic growing from it and quickly going for his wand again.

He picked it up and aimed it directly over the diary that had completely opened up over the floor.

The pages moved after another, searching for a certain part of the book and then it stopped.

An echo passed his senses again and he could feel the Dark Magic unsealing itself from being kept for a long time.

All wards from the cottage had been taken down and Harry could feel the strong surge of magic from the diary.

He had been in this situation before, only then it was the Dark Lord’s Horcrux.

But despite its comparable and uncanny situation, it still felt different.

It was Dark Magic but it was something else.

Suddenly, the turning of the pages halted and opened up at a certain part of the diary.

Harry slowly and uncertainly reached for it, wand still in his hand.

From the tip’s light, he could tell that he was right into thinking that it was some old form of diary by the old and dingy looking parchments.

It had not been touched for years and if he would take a closer look, it looked so untouched like even Hermione nor Snape had known its presence in the house.

He flipped through the pages, reading through scrawls of elegant looking handwriting.

He could barely read the small letterings and the elegantly curved nature of each word in lines and curls.

The handwriting was unfamiliar but something was kept repeatedly at each page he turned and it was a name.


It was a diary.

He shifted his spot on the floor and turned more pages, there were better writings at some days under certain dates and there were days when the pages seemed to be filled up with words by someone who had a hard time or who had been struggling as they wrote down the entry of the day.

Leafing through the pages, the diary dated back years ago with entries that told Harry it existed even before the night of ambush of the Death Eaters to the Order of the Phoenix.

He moved page after page, jumping and reading through entries that seemed to slowly make sense and yet at certain pages not at all.

And then it came to him that it must be owned by Narcissa Malfoy.

He flipped back a few pages searching for context clues that would proof his sudden theory and realization.

The handwriting seemed to be that of a woman but then again, so did he think was the Riddle’s writing before and the Half-Blood Prince’s writing.

Never again was he going to be consumed or faked and double crossed by mere handwriting.

He had to find enough evidence to ensure that this was owned by someone he did know; after all, the owner seemed to know Draco very well.

The way the handwriting was made seemed to have been done by a woman and if Draco’s name kept coming up it could only mean what he was beginning to think of.

But what would Narcissa Malfoy’s diary be doing in this cottage?

She had died a few years back – he was there at the funeral and he saw how Draco Malfoy suffered that loss.

But evidences were laid out and out on a full that nobody knew of Snape and Hermione’s existence in the cottage.

He was sure that Draco didn’t know of their hiding place judging by the way he scavenged for evidences to prove Snape’s innocence.

He knew nothing.

But his name was here in this diary.

And if this was Narcissa’s… why?

What relevance would this diary be then?

And then a thought occurred to Harry.

The diary was older than the ambush but the entries, the last ones he had been leafing through were somewhere at the time where Hermione had been missing.

His heart skipped another beat again.

He moved pages after another until suddenly, a presumable entry with a date had stopped.

There was nothing in it.

A few more pages were left but there was no further entry.

It was dated a few months or almost a year right before her death.

The journal was never finished up to its last page it had halted at a page where the last entry was still about Draco and a short lettering.

The entry was short, unlike all the other previous pages where it would take a page or three for one date of entry.

And two names and several words were repeated at the short entry of the diary: Draco and Severus and the phrase forgive me.

Harry turned the diary back, turned the pages over and over to find anything that will give him proof that it was Narcissa Malfoy’s.

But the name he needed to prove his theory wasn’t there.

But something else was written.

Something embedded at the very last page of the diary with an entry.

It was embedded within the book.

His eyes narrowed as he read the word.

It was an incantation he has read before when he was finishing up a project that related to the Dark Arts in his training.

It was the Dark Magic that created what he deemed to remember as some sort of imagery, a form of copy of one self.

Not a resurrection, neither a Horcrux.

A form of magical bond that was meant and used in old ages when legal will and testaments weren’t yet available for the society.

“Gemino..” Harry audibly whispered as he read the little handwriting at the end of the page.

Harry lit the wand over the last page of the entry and whispered the same spell he did a few minutes ago.

The green sparks flew out again and it pelted straight towards the last entry page.

There was a sudden black smoke from the diary and an echo that caused Harry to throw it back over the floor out of shock.

The green light vanished and what took place and was growing before his eyes was a black smoke.

It was growing larger, thicker by the moment and he had to back away from the floor out of shock at the silhouette and shadowy figure it was forming.

He tried to calm himself and his breathing down as he held his wand tightly in his hand, ready to attack or defend himself should something unlikely come out of the slowly clearing smoke and attack him.

Harry didn’t want to blink and neither did he have any time to do so nor comprehend what came before him sooner than he think.

The green smoke had completely cleared and what was left was the thick smoke that soon had vanished and had formed into something else, someone else.

Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth turned and opened as he gaped in silence out of the shock of what he was seeing.

There, standing tall and afloat a few inches from the book was a form he didn’t expect to see or meet again after all these years.

She beamed down at him with firm and certainly in her eyes.

She wasn’t smoke but neither was she a solid figure that could be touched.

But she was there and she was existing right before his eyes.

Narcissa M-Malfoy…” Harry managed to breathe out with utmost shock still screaming from all sides of him.

A fully formed figure of the woman stood before him, head bowed down in an angle with hands together resting gently over her abdomen.

She was dressed adequately and elegantly as he would presume she dressed herself when she was alive.

The pale face and blonde features slowly looked up at him with query and quiet eyes.

Her eyes were as sharp as he recalled.

No, this wasn’t a Horcrux nor was this a ghost.

This was some sort of Dark Magic, some sort of apparition made for a purpose.

Her lips red and thinned as she turned to face him fully.

She was as young or as aged as he last recalled seeing her which was years and years back.

Her lips moved, as if contemplating the sight before her as well.

Her eyes roamed the room as if recalling the place and her hands were kept together gently over her front.

Narcissa’s eyes grew back at Harry as if recalling all his facial features in good familiarity.

Harry opened his mouth but no words came out.

She stared back at him with cold eyes and an undaunted expression.

We are not at the Wizengamot…” her soft yet clear voice spoke as her eyes roamed the room and moved slowly back at Harry.

If there was disappointment in her tone, it had vanished as quickly as it had passed.

There was determination in her eyes as if her plans had shifted after realizing that she wasn’t where she expected to be.

“No, we’re not.” Harry managed to croak out after a while. “What are you?”

Her eyes turned and focused at him with enough certainly and recall.

“Hello, Harry Potter…” she greeted with her usual cold and affirmative tone.

Harry’s eyes darkened.

Everything about her was as he remembered her which only proved that this wasn’t the woman she had been while she was alive.

“Why do you expect to be at the Wizengamot?” Harry asked her as he slowly grasped the scene before him. “You’re a memory. How?”

Her eyes turned to small slits as if she had been insulted for a moment.

 “I’m not a memory.” Narcissa replied and now with the slightest hint of amusement passing her lip line as she stared back at Harry.

But you’re not alive.” Harry said. “You’re dead. I was at your burial.”

Her eyes darkened again as if she was wondering why she was wasting time with a fool like him.

But nevertheless, she nodded at him in agreement.

“I am not a ghost.” Narcissa quietly and patiently answered him. “I have passed on.”

“Passed on?” Harry repeated with a furrowed brow.

He was completely lost and Narcissa seemed to be completely reveling at the thought of it.

The woman had been long dead and yet here she was, mocking all the lesser mortals around her.

Narcissa smiled at him and he felt more insulted than ever.

“This is why I have certain hatred for your kind. You are impure and you are impotent of all the knowledge there should be known to our pure kind. You are unknowable of all the laws of nature of the worlds.”

“But I know you’re not a ghost.” Harry pointed out at her. “Enough evidence to suffice my theory that you’re Dark Magic.”

“Dark Magic, Old Magic.. magic all the same. And yes, I am not a ghost.” Narcissa sharply yet elegantly answered him. “As I’ve said, I have passed on.”

Still, Harry stared at her unsure of her words.

She looked down at him with such patience of a mother to a son but with a gleam of stark cold demeanor.

“When you die, you face the veil..” she slowly spoke and a spark appeared in Harry’s eyes in recall and realization. “There you are asked, you are given the choice… if you want to remain behind.. or you want to pass on.”

Sirius chose to pass on the moment he faced the veil when your sister killed him.” Harry said finally able to understand what they were talking about “I’ve never seen him as a ghost. But only as an apparition in dreams.”

“Correct.” Narcissa replied with a proud gleam in her eyes. “I, like him, had chosen the latter.”

“Guess that money really couldn’t buy everything, can it?” Harry said unable to stop himself. “Guess there wasn’t much of a happy memory or a happy family to want to go back to or stay behind for?”

She didn’t say anything and her features remained passive, unmoved as if she didn’t understand what he had just told her.

“But… what are you?” Harry asked then unable to stop his curiosity.

Another gleam passed Narcissa’s eyes.

“I am hardly a ghost..” Narcissa quietly explained to her. “Nor a memory.”

“Neither are you a Horcrux.” Harry interrupted her. “I would know if you are and I’m sure you aren’t.”

Narcissa quietly nodded at him.

“I am neither here nor there.” she quietly explained. “I am a mere fragment, created or rather recreated. But I am here for a purpose.”

“A purpose?” Harry skeptically asked her. “A purpose would mean that you should be out there doing and dealing with it. You are here, kept hidden beneath these grounds, hidden and protected by Dark Magic that created you.”

For the first time, there was fire in her eyes that Harry had not seen earlier.

It was like a window to Narcissa’s soul and yet she wasn’t there.

If any, her difference from a live being that he had noticed was the lack of pure and genuine emotions.

She moved and spoke like some doll on strings, being manipulated by some unknown source.

“A burden.” Narcissa clarified. “That which will unload and remove all doubts and secrets from concealment.”

A glint passed Harry’s eyes and suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings that he had momentarily forgot upon seeing Narcissa in shock.

Something in her words reminded him of something.

But she was even more emotionless in comparison when she had been alive.

No, something magical, controlled in manner was restraining her emotions.

She was definitely not a life or had been a life.

She was nothing but formed magic.

“What do you want?” Harry demanded as he slowly straightened up, holding his wand up as if threatening her.

“But is it not you who wants something?” Narcissa asked him with another amused look over her pale face. “You have come here and unburied a secret, a magic that had been calling you.”

“It was you.” Harry said. “It was your voice I’d been hearing.”

“It was the magic left littered in this place that has been calling you.” Narcissa spoke softly. “You have awakened the magic that was slumbering, laid forgotten here in time. Waiting to be awakened.”

“You were waiting for me to awaken you?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.

If any, there was a sudden gleam of secrecy in her eyes.

“Or were you waiting for someone else?” Harry then asked her. “Draco Malfoy? Your son?”

She blinked for the first time.

A curl turned around Harry’s lips.

“It’s one of us meant to be here. One of us was meant to find you.. but you were expecting to be awakened in front of the Wizengamot. Why?”

She remained still, unmoving and her eyes strayed straight back at him as if her magic had stopped, as if she had completely stopped being controlled by the magic that created her.

Harry stared back at her, trying to accept and comprehend what he was really seeing there.

And then she slowly lifted her hand up to him, offering it as an invitation.

“I didn’t awaken you.” Harry said not taking her hand and staring back at her as if she was mad. “What do you want from me?”

The whole thing was mad and he wasn’t even sure why he was talking to some dark form of Narcissa when he knew that it wasn’t her anyway.

“I’ve been created to be woken by a boy who has a purpose in all these.” Narcissa answered him with such affirmation in her tone that it was making Harry quick to believe her words.


“I’ve been made out of blood of the woman who created my form from hers. As I’ve said, I am neither here nor there. I have crossed the threshold of the veil and of this and the other world. I’m in existence out of magic and blood. I am but a fragment of what is and isn’t life.”

“Whose blood?”

Her eyes darkened.

“Yours.” Narcissa answered him.

Harry shook his head.

“I’ve never met Narcissa Malfoy close enough to give her something that has to be taken something by force or willingly.”

“But your blood runs deep into the magic that created me.” Narcissa gestured to her forearm. “Severus Snape saved your life.”

Something cold passed Harry’s senses.

He wanted to turn deaf at the truth that suddenly rang in his ears.

“No.” Harry simply defied the truth. “He has… Snape..”

“At the ambush, you couldn’t be saved by just anything.. you couldn’t be revived. Hermione Jean Granger begged for your life and in turn, Severus Snape sacrificed something that was irrevocable for him to ever gain back. In that moment, he was able to take a part of you with him. Your blood he has kept hidden for protection, I’ve taken.. or Narcissa has taken.”

“Liar.” Harry screamed at her pointing his wand threateningly back at her.

She smiled and kept her hand over to him.

Harry stared back at her with a shaking wand hand and eyes burning with tears.

No, this wasn’t what he wanted and certainly not what he had expected.

Snape saved his life?

The man who had taken Hermione Jean Granger from him had saved his life?

No, that wasn’t’ the truth.

This wasn’t the truth he was meant to find out.

Narcissa stared back at him with such determination in her face that he felt like he was staring at the real Narcissa Malfoy.

She nudged her hand gently towards his direction.

“Take my hand.” Narcissa whispered softly to him. “Long has been your suffering my boy. Let me end all of it.”

“I am not yours!” Harry angrily screamed at him, fighting the emotions growing inside of him and urging feeling inside him that was growing, telling him to take her hand.

“I am truth.” Narcissa whispered at him. “I am the truth you seek. I am the answer to all the suffering that has bounded you mortals into spite and hate and death.”

Narcissa stared at him knowing that his emotions were taking a toll, knowing that he would take her hand.

Tears steamed Harry’s eyes and the farther this took, the deeper his longing for the truth clung desperately into his heart.

“He took her from me.” Harry cried at her. “He took everything from me.”

“You came here for an answer.” Narcissa said.

“I came here to find an evidence that will put him forever at the pits of hell.”

“No.” Narcissa interrupted. “Deep in your heart you came here looking for a different answer, for an answer your heart longs but couldn’t admit to yourself because deep down, you know that there was a reason to all of it.”

Harry shook his head, tears at the side of his face.

She softly opened her palm up at him like an invitation that of a mother to a son she knew he desperately craved for all his life.

His yes met hers, almost begging her to take away all the pain he was harboring inside of him that which was destroying him from within.

And she stared back at him not with the eyes of the elite Pureblood woman she was but that of a mother to a son.

A mother he had never known and a son for which who never looked at her that way.

Harry shook his head as tears fell from his eyes.

She gave him another reassuring glare.

“Take my hand Harry Potter to gain all the truth you’ve wanted to know all these years but you were selfishly deprived of. Let me unburden you from all of these.”






“NO CISSY!” screamed a horrified voice.

There was the audible and ear-splitting scream of Hermione and Narcissa’s anguish.

Strong light spread out across the small space in the cottage that blinded the three of them.

Then there came the sound of thunderous spells being thrown out, lights ignited from strong spells and then the sound of two bodies colliding back over the grounds.

And then there was the sound of Hermione’s body collapsing on the ground amidst the chaos.

Snape breathlessly fell back over the ground with his wand in his hand and his other arm outstretched protecting Hermione’s unconscious body beneath him.

“Move aside.” Narcissa’s cold voice quietly commanded him. “Move the fuck aside.”

“Cissy…” Snape breathed out fearfully with his eyes darting back and forth to her face from the wand in her hand. “Please.. it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“MOVE ASIDE YOU FILTHY LITTLE SCUM!” Narcissa angrily yelled at him as she stood over them both with her wand at the ready.

Her eyes moved from him to Hermione’s unmoving body then back at him.

The disappointment was written all over her face.

“I beg you…” Snape cried at her. “Hermione… she doesn’t.. she’s endured more than enough. Please let this one go.”

“Get off her.” Narcissa coldly commanded him, breathless from their little duel as she advanced and kicked him around his lower leg to move him with her sharply booted feet.

But Snape didn’t move a muscle.

He stared up at her, determined with all the morsel of his body to protect Hermione whatever the cost may be.

Narcissa’s eyes flashed at him in his pure defiance.

 “I will not repeat myself, Severus.” her thin lips muttered softly.  

She spoke his name with such bitterness and spite; she was angry and Snape was very much aware of it.

“Enough!” Snape said with wiping the blood from his lower lip with the back of his hand from the attack he obtained from Narcissa’s curse earlier. “You will not touch her!”

“You will not tell me what to do.” Narcissa coldly said as she kicked him around the ribs and raised her wand back up at him again. “Now move aside.”

“This isn’t part of our bargain, Narcissa.” Snape spat back at her and inhaling sharply, he carefully sat back up without taking his eyes nor his wand from her.

“And neither is this.” Narcissa calmly answered him shaking her head and momentarily nodding her head towards Hermione’s beaten form on the ground.

“You promised you will not harmher-“ Snape croaked out at her with his eyes alert for any sudden, malicious and sneaky movement from the woman before him.

“And you fucking idiot promised me that she will stay put here!” Narcissa yelled back at him, eyes wide.

The veins from her neckline were becoming obvious with every bit of lashed out emotion from her.

She had been aging through the years with the lines on her face showing and the more than blonde hair showing around her beautiful tresses but she was as cold, as strong and as ready to kill as ever.

She might be getting old but her beating the wits out of Hermione a few moments ago only proved that she was still combat-ready as she had always been when the circumstance called for it.

“And what do you think is going on?” Snape angrily asked her trying to fully straighten himself up from the injury he had already procured from her.

“What do I think?” Narcissa mocked him back with impatience growing in her.

“What do you think is happening here?!” Snape spat at her. “What do you think I’m doing with her? Giving her money, letting her do what she wants, giving her chance to go shopping downtown for our meals? You are not thinking clear Narcissa-”

Narcissa stared back at him, disbelief still etched across every inch of her face.

“You and your pointless-“

“She’s fucking rotting in this cottage for ages here with me!“ Snape angrily screamed back, standing straight and pointing his wand directly over her chest. “What do you think I’m doing with her Narcissa?!”

But Narcissa was still fast.

She waved her wand back up at him and protected herself with it.

“YOU ARE TRAINING HER!” Narcissa angrily screamed at him as she lashed her wand twice but Snape was able to deflect her attacks. “YOU ARE FUCKING HER AT NIGHT AND TRAINING HER BY MORNINGLIGHT! WHAT DO YOU THINK, SEVERUS? WHAT DO YOU THINK?!”

Her voice echoed all over the quiet and still island.

There was nothing but the sound of her every bit of hatred bouncing off the walls of the cottage around them.

Narcissa’s murderous glare moved from him then back at Hermione who was still unconscious on the ground before them.

She stared down at her, with mad eyes and heart beating fast from all the hate growing inside of her.

Hermione was flopped over the floor of the cottage, face down on her stomach and in full combat-training clothes she’s caught them with.

God knows where Snape had taken it but from the looks of it, it was some form of old Auror training clothes he had somewhat managed to steal and made anew.

They had been training at the layered garden side of the cottage before she got there with her sudden visit only to find Snape teaching her how she can possibly defend herself should an attack happen, training her with skills that could save her life and defend herself without a wand.

Narcissa shook her head as she stared at the dirty boots, the tight pair of slender black pants Hermione was wearing as she lay on the ground without knowing what was happening around her.

Snape knew how powerful Narcissa was but at that moment, it only sank in him how murderous she could be if she wanted.

“Cissy..” Snape began his tone growing softer. “Please… consider what you are doing.. please…”

“Did you consider what you were doing awhile ago?” Narcissa spat at him. “Did you consider what could happen if she escapes you because you’re teaching her how to defend herself that she could possibly use against you? Did you goddamn consider things long before you’ve decided and began training her right behind my back?!”


“After all that I’ve given you..” Narcissa breathed out at him. “After all that I’ve given you, spoiled you with everything.. And you..your.. loyalty.. that was all that I have ever wanted from you, Severus.. and this..”

“Cissy.. Cissy, please..”

Narcissa looked back at him with more disappointment and hurt in her eyes than the anger that he had made her to feel.

They stared at one another with what seemed like an eternity with neither lowering a wand.

And then a smile began to spread across Narcissa’s cold features.

She shook her head to keep the tears from leaking down her cheeks.

He stared at back at her with question in his eyes.

“When you’re not angry, you call me Cissy… dear Cissy… my Cissy… darling Cissy…” her eyes and tone grew darker as she spoke the words. “Cissy here, Cissy that… exactly the way Bella calls me.”

He opened his mouth but she shook her head and pointed the wand at his face that silenced Snape and she continued on.

“And when you’re angry.. when you don’t get it your way, you call me Narcissa.. Narcissa… that N in my name… the touch of spite, of hate… exactly the way Lucius calls me, you know?”


“Tell me again.. Remind me..” she heavily breathed out each word. “Remind me again why I haven’t killed you all these years if you call me the very same way my lunatic for a sister and my idiotic husband calls me.”

He stared back at her, hate was there but pain created a larger hole in his heart at the way she compared him to the two people in the world for which they both hate more than the other.

“I have loved you..” Snape whispered at her with tears traversing at the side of his cheeks. “I have always loved you, gave you all the that I have.. all my loyalty, only to you.”

“No, you don’t-“

“I have laid my life for you and your ungrateful family. I have spent my entire life protecting you… protecting Draco. I am nothing but loyal to you-“

“Loyal to me?” Narcissa repeated with obvious mock in her tone. “Loyal to me? I leave you for several months expecting you to be doing your duty – keeping her here, keeping her down and away from everyone – from Draco most of all – keeping her powers suppressed until it dies! I have given you a good, spoiled life here – I gave you everything you need and more than what you need in here to ensure that she will never find her way back to them! That she will never find her way back – that Draco will NEVER find her!”

“Cissy-“ Snape warningly said as Narcissa advanced once more, wand emitting jet of sparks.

“And then I’d walk in here expecting you to do your job and instead I find you here, find her here with you training till sunset – learning skills from you, learning how she can defend herself and most importantly, learning how she can defy you without a wand! WHERE IS LOYALTY FOR ME IN THERE?!”

A curse jot out of her wand and cascaded at the side of Snape’s face, creating a small line from the lash and blood quickly dripped from it.

He breathed deeply, he breathed hard but he remained where he was – keeping himself still and protectively in position before Hermione’s unconscious form.

Narcissa could murder him right then and there but he wasn’t going to move aside to watch her attack Hermione’s defenseless form.

“I have always been loyal to you.” Snape whispered. “I would not be here if I am not.”

Narcissa looked extremely angry but hurt at the same time.

Her eyes showed that she had never expected such disappointment from Snape

No, her eyes showed him how deeply betrayed she felt at that very moment.

And he knew that he has never hurt her nor betrayed her this far.

No, he has never betrayed her.

Not until today.

“You liar.” Narcissa hissed at him. “You scheming - you bastard… you used me.. you’ve used… how could you.. after everything I have given you-“



“Because I need to!” Snape yelled at her. “I need to – if things go wrong-I need to make sure she can protect herself -“

“Things will go horribly wrong if you ever – how could you – you – I’ve trusted you – you had one job – ONE JOB and you-“

“AND I HAVE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING!” Snape screamed back at her.

He finally lost it and he went full back on his feet and advanced towards her.

He lashed his wand once, twice and Narcissa wasn’t able to defend herself.

She was thrown backward and was thrown back against the wall where Snape held her back strongly and painfully.

He had had enough of it all.

Snape’s black eyes glinted, dark as his disposition and feelings were at the moment.

He grabbed her by the arms, pinning her hard against the wall as she struggled with all her might against him.

“I’ve protect you, protected Draco.” Snape spitefully began as he held his wand tighter for each word he said. “I’ve kept her wand and am keeping her powers down, suppressing it until it dies.. I am teaching her skills so should the time come that she needs to defend herself against enemies-“

“Against me-“

“Not against you-“

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Narcissa angrily screamed at his face as she struggled against his arms that was pinning her over her chest to keep her from moving away from the wall.

“I am not your enemy-“

 “THE DARK LORD HAS LONG BEEN GONE!” Narcissa yelled in anger and pain as he strongly pinned her back and hitting her back twice against the wall to weaken her. “LONG GONE - TO WHOM DO YOU NEED HER TO DEFEND HERSELF FROM! YOU BASTARD – YOU LIAAAAAAR!”

“I need to teach her to defend herself!” Snape angrily yelled back at her. “I need to teach her how she can protect herself, defend herself – should the time come she leaves this place-“



“That is your one job! Your one job Severus – to ensure she never goes back, she never finds her way back – she never goes back any of them – so Draco may come into terms, may come into peace in his life that she doesn’t belong to him – she is never going back and Draco is never going to see her again-“

“Your son –“

“My son is desperate!” she cried at him. “He is still looking for her, searching for her, searching the lands and the skies if he must to find her and your job is to ensure that he never does-“

“You told me to keep her away because the curse that your sister embedded in her will kill not only herself but the rest of them- “

“I have not lied about that-“ Narcissa said her fingers gripping Snape hard around the arms as she knew her wand was no use as of the moment.

Snape held her back with the back of her arms, keeping her still but the woman was struggling hard enough against him.

“You told me to keep her here – to keep her while that curse is in her blood – you told me – you asked me to fuck her so I can kill the curse, so I can bring her back-“

“But did you not enjoy taking her?” Narcissa suddenly asked him as her struggle lessened the moment she knew that she’s caught his emotional attention.

His black eyes gleamed as his grip on her slackened a little.

A cold and dangerous smile appeared over Narcissa’s face.

“But did you not enjoy every bit of moment that you were inside of her, those nights you took her under your command? Did you not enjoy making her scream your name or better yet, did you not enjoy yourself as you screamed when she-“

“ENOUGH!” Snape said and he moved his hand over her neck and had begun choking her.

But death wasn’t enough to scare Narcissa Black Malfoy.

She stared up at him with determined eyes and Snape knew that there was no point to it.

He screamed in anguish and his grip around her neck slackened.

A sudden red light appeared from between them and Narcissa managed to push him away from her with the wand in her hand.

Snape was thrown backward but he was fast on his feet as he threw another curse at her that she deflected with such ease.

She swayed but her eyes remained on Snape with every bit of hatred growing in her features.

“You told me – “ Snape furiously began unable to comprehend all of it at that moment. “You told me – “

“I would have told you anything if it meant protecting Draco, my dear boy – my only son – out of harm’s way.” Narcissa whispered back at him with gleam of anguish and trickery in her eyes. “I would have told you or anyone anything in order to gain advantage for my only son, Severus.”

Enlightenment passed Snape’s features as he watched Narcissa slowly regain her strength, straightening her robes and the sleeves of her traveling cloak.

She breathed heavily, calming herself down as she did so this gesture.

His black eyes stared back at her in awe as she began to calm herself down by focusing on arranging her clothing – her habit, the way she had always been when emotions took higher place in her head and heart.

“You lied to me..” he whispered softly as he began to lower his wand. “You lied to me..”

“I didn’t lie to you.” Narcissa spoke back gently closing the buttons around her wrist that loosened up from Snape’s grip. “I just couldn’t tell you all of the truth.”

“But the curse-“

“Is in her blood.” Narcissa said eyeing him back. “And you’ve done a great job into killing it every single time that you take her.”

“Then what else?” Snape asked her fear scorching him, eating him up. “What else, Cissy?”

There was such command in his tone that Narcissa thought of Draco and his same hatred for her.

He stared at her, waiting with a horrified look over his face at this realization.

Panic was evidently rising across his face at her betrayal, at the possibilities of the lies she’s weaved through to use him, at the things he might have committed because he thought he was doing the right thing.

The woman she loved and trusted above all was here, telling him that she had been keeping secrets from him.

He had trusted her more than anyone else that he could ever remember.

Snape made a sudden move forward to grab her painfully around the arms again that Narcissa was too shock to defend herself.

“Tell me!” he yelled at her face, black eyes wide and face filled with fear and hatred. “What did you do Narcissa?! What did you do?!”

Narcissa stared back at him with doubt, with hatred, with anger – not for him – but for the woman that had been the reason for all of these.

“I love you more than I’ve loved any other man perhaps..” Narcissa whispered at him as her eyes softened, vanishing all emotions and feelings of hate as he spoke about him. “You are my dearest, my closest and only ally.. I would do anything to protect you-“

“You’ve used me-“

“I have. I always would if I have to for Draco. But I will always love you as well.” Narcissa said. “And if I’ve used you to protect him, then I certainly would use anyone, any opportunity I could to ensure that when I am long gone in this world, you are also protected just like my Draco..”

Snape stared back at her with anger and questions in his mind at what she could mean by all of it.

“Long gone?” Snape whispered gripping her tighter. “Cissy..”

“When I am gone, time will come that you would leave this cottage as I would expect.” Narcissa said with her eyes momentarily straying at Hermione. “And I know that despite all that I’ve told you, you will bring her back. You will give her back to them – this is enough proof of that.”

Shame passed Snape’s eyes but he didn’t anything as he listened to her.

Tears were threatening to come down her face again.  

“I have always known you, Severus. And when love overcomes your heart, you will forget your duty for me, your promise-“

“I wouldn’t-“

“And when the time comes, it will become your demise. You see Severus, love becomes the death of duty.” Narcissa whispered with no utter of regret in her features.

“But you-“

“I am, not like you, I’m afraid.” Narcissa said. “Unlike Draco. Unlike Evans.” she whispered each name with such cold emotion. “I love but I remain, detached, logical. And that makes me think before love becomes my demise.”

“What did you do.” Snape seriously asked her now with evident hurt in him.

“I had to make sure you live through all these, protected and unharmed even when I am gone.”

“What did you do.”

“I did what any woman who loves would do for a favourite ally, for a most favoured brother, for a well-loved man..”

“What did you do!” he finally screamed this time.

Gleam of victory passed Narcissa’s eyes.

“If you die..” Narcissa whispered as tears surprisingly fell over her smiling eyes. “She dies.”

He stared at her, comprehending what she was trying to tell him.

They stared at one another long enough for Snape to slightly understand what she could have meant.

“But you.. you don’t have..”

“Blood is a form of magic. But old magic didn’t really need the use of that, did it?” Narcissa asked him as she tried to keep her tears from flowing but they didn’t.

Fear consumed Snape’s face

“I saw the opportunity to be taken when you had to rescue the boy’s life at the hospital. I convinced you strongly that it was the right thing to do and you, ridden with guilt and love for her – followed what I asked you to.”

“But – no – it was-“

“No, Severus. You gave Potter what was essential and you’ve used all the magical bond there can be used. Hermione’s love for him convinced you as your love for her convinced you to do what you doubt would work but it did. In saving Potter’s life that day at the hospital you thought you were doing something for her and for Evans, for the better of all – but unknowingly, you were bounding yourself to an old kind of magic. You were blinded by your love for the last woman you’ve loved and the woman you’ve come to love – enough reason to save a boy they both sacrificed their lives for. And in doing so, Severus.. you’ve unknowingly but magically secured the plan I have for you.”

Realization dawned into Snape’s face and his grip slackened upon her where he had been close to choking her to death again.

He pushed himself away from her, something heavy consuming his chest and his mind hurting, swirling with all the pain at the information handed to him.

“Soul Bound.” Snape muttered fearfully, his black eyes focused upon her tearful ones. “You have.. but.. no, you cannot.. you need..there are magical essentials...”

“Like blood?” Narcissa had asked him with a victorious smile. “Did you not have her first drawn blood?”

Something flickered in Snape’s eyes.

He shook his head, his breathing caught in his throat and his head spinning with fear.

“As I’ve told you, love becomes the death of duty.” Narcissa whispered and she made a movement with her hand to him as if to console him but he moved away from her.

“You… you have…”

 “Love becomes the demise of all beings.” Narcissa said. “But it was the exact ingredient I desperately needed to ensure that all my plans would work and come to life even if I am gone.”

His black eyes moved from her as he stepped back and he stared down at Hermione’s form on the floor.

“So she won’t die and won’t harm them because you’re here protecting her, killing the curse inside of her.” Narcissa slowly said with victory in her head. “At the same time, she is far, very far from Draco.. and in doing so, you protect Draco as well and you keep her from him and in that way, my son will also be safe from all these delusional feelings he has for her.”  

Snape felt that it was harder and harder to breath by the moment as she revealed it all to him.

“And you.” Narcissa’s eyes flashed at him where the black ones met her gaze. “You were the right pawn at the right time and at the right moment. And still, you will be protected by the spell that binds you to her at the time you saved Potter’s life in order for him to come back and defeat the Dark Lord.”

Something clogged in his throat as everything came to him.

He was too occupied with guilt and pain about his situation with Hermione that he obviously missed all these, all her plotting and scheming for the bigger picture.

“And long after I am gone, you will remain unharmed even if they find you, even if they get to you.. they cannot harm you. I wouldn’t let any of them harm you – the Order, the Aurors – not even the justice by the Wizengamot that I am very much sure will be used against you – no, not you. You will get out of this mess unscathed. You deserve a good life and you will have that at the very end.” Narcissa whispered as tears fell at the sides of her face while victory accumulated in the rest of her features.

“What have you done..”

“You see, Severus.. I made sure that you will live through this war with my beloved son. For if they choose to harm you in any way - your death will become the death of Harry Potter’s most beloved Mudblood…”

His heart endured what he thought would be like to feel heart attack.

Something heavy and painful was growing inside of him.

His soul was bound to Hermione and any harm done to him by the other side will reflect and mark Hermione’s death.

His black eyes were heavy with tears, guilt, pain, anguish and every other emotion there was to feel about the revelation of what Narcissa has done.

Years of keeping Hermione, he thought he was doing the right thing by killing the curse and keeping her off and away from everyone.

Years of keeping her he thought he was doing the right thing until the time comes where she can go back to them.

All of it had always been because he loved her and he thought that she can be the beacon of light, of all the remorse he had in him that someday when he brings her back to them, he could accept his fate at Azkaban and die there peacefully knowing despite it all, he had done the right thing.

And now all that was gone at the truth that what Narcissa had done all along.

Narcissa Malfoy was a master of the games.

They stood apart over Hermione’s still form on the floor with wands still out and emotions raw with both faces tear-streaked.

He felt he was losing his energy, his will and everything else he still had.

“Don’t look so betrayed or used, Sev. You did have good days with her and there will be more to come. You see, we all win at the very end, Severus.”  Narcissa told him as she lowered her wand completely and offered her hand towards him. “For love is indeed the most powerful thing in this world and now you see the wonders it can do.”

He stared back at her crying in silence, unmoving and still in shock as his black eyes stared at the hand she was offering him as a sign that she will always love him despite and in spite of it all.

It took Snape a while to recover from all of it and when he did, he had recovered well enough to have a clear mind and a brave heart.

“But you know Cissy, I still care about her.” Snape whispered knowing this was the truth in his heart. “I will always love her and no matter what you do, I will bring her back.  I will find a way to break the Soul Bound you’ve created.”

“Would you?” she asked him.

“I would.” Snape answered her. “I would, Cissy. I will find a way and there is nothing in the world that you can do about it.”

“Nothing?” Narcissa whispered and his fingers closed in discreetly around her wand again. “I will always have a way. I always can find a way.”

Snape stared back at her.

A split moment of thought and decision.

And before Snape could do anything, Narcissa’s quick sniveling maneuver had outdone him for the last time.

A familiar flash of light crossed the air and Snape fell back with his eyes closing in while the power of Narcissa’s magic slowly but evidently work its way towards him.



There was a cry of agony, of shock and fear that he didn’t recognize was his own voice.

There was a powerful surge, a feeling of being forcibly pulled away as if he had been taken out of the Pensieve in the old days.

Harry Potter was thrown backward on the floor as the ghostly apparition of a Narcissa Malfoy threw him away from her after as she took her hands away from either side of his temple after showing him years’ worth of memories of Snape, of Hermione and Narcissa back in the cottage for the past ten years.

Harry’s face was filled with tears, eyes wide in shock, his heart beating very fast at the revelation he had come to receive.

Images, voices and conversations, truths and memories after another flashed before his mind’s eyes as he revisited the past he had longed to be present in.

He was choking in his own breath, in his own tears as he lay back on the ground weakened from what he had come to see, at the revelation of everything.

Harry’s heart raced and drummed with pain as his tearful green eyes stared up at the vanishing apparition of Narcissa Malfoy leaving him behind.

Leaving him deserted at the cottage once more and with nothing else but the scorching truth that they had all been deprived of all these years.














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