Dumbledore
Potter leaves him, memories in hand, to die.
Severus embraced the pain and watched death approach with welcoming arms. He had ultimately failed, of course, but at least he had gotten the best of the Dark Lord once and for all. He spared a thought for the rest of the Order, mainly those three golden children-who-would-not-give-up. But mostly, Severus hoped that in death he would finally find peace, even though he deserved hell. The last thing his senses took in was the lonely howl of the wind in the rafters of the Shrieking Shack.
The park near Spinner’s End hardly lived up to its name. It was really just an asphalt playground, nestled next to a sparse clearing of grass edged by a copse of trees. When Severus was young, he and Lily would swing side by side and make up stories that took place in a deep, dark forest—one where you couldn’t see the muddy river through the trees.
Severus hadn’t been there in years, and he also hadn’t felt so good in years, and that is how he figured he was dead. The sudden appearance of Albus Dumbledore confirmed this fact.
Apparently death does not leave people in peace.
“My dear boy,” Dumbledore said, sounding years younger but at once just the same as always. “I have been waiting for you.”
Severus couldn’t look at him. His occlumency barriers were shaking and Severus had never again wanted to face the first man he’d killed. He turned away.
“You did very well, Severus,” Dumbledore said gently, as if that made it true.
“I failed.” There was no more need to be subordinate, was there? “Potter is dead, or as good as. The Dark Lord has won his purpose.”
“No,” Dumbledore pronounced. Severus shivered. “Harry is not dead yet, and there remain great forces at play that Riddle is not aware of. I do believe this will fall on our side.”
Severus did not bother to ask for details. He had learned that lesson long ago.
“Severus…won’t you look at me?”
Severus shivered again as his words to Potter echoed through his mind. Look at me…you have your mother’s eyes. “I gave him my memories.” Too many. If I wasn’t dead, I could never look him in the face again.
“Yes, I saw. That was well done. A key element, in fact.” Dumbledore’s hand landed on his shoulder, warm and gentle and painful. The man stood beside him, light blue robes waving in a non-existent breeze.
Did they exist? Did anything exist anymore?
“Riddle’s greatest mistake was that he created Horcruxes, pieces of his soul broken and placed in external objects in a foolish attempt to escape death. The night he tried to kill Harry, he inadvertently created another. This is why this was not all in vain. Harry will be killed by Voldemort, undoubtedly, but he will return with his own soul intact and, I do believe, defeat him with ease. Our efforts have not been in vain.”
Mind spinning, Severus did not answer. Then he asked, “How could you do it? You claimed to love him.”
Dumbledore rubbed his thumb minutely across Severus’ shoulder as he answered. “I wanted him to be able to live as long as possible, and to preserve as many lives as possible. I regret that…I could not allow my love for him to direct my choices more often.”
“He may still die.” How could Dumbledore have pinned everything on Potter? Why had he asked so much of him, and of Severus himself? “If you truly lo—cared for him, you would not have asked him to do the impossible!”
“It is not impossible,” Dumbledore said quietly.
“Unthinkable, then.” Severus wasn’t thinking of Potter anymore. He was thinking of a night on the Astronomy tower and a hundred nights after that, living a life worse than death carrying out the will of two masters and failing at both. “Do you, really? Care for him?”
Dumbledore came to stand in front of him and studied his face. Severus was frozen, unable to look away. In that gaze, his occlumency barriers began slowly crumbling.
Dumbledore had always entered his mind so much more gently than the Dark Lord.
“I came to love you like a son, my dearest boy.”
Severus shook his head minutely. “You–you didn’t. You asked me to k–kill you!”
Dumbledore’s eyes were full of pain. “I did not allow myself to feel what I wanted. I thought I had to, for the greater good. It was only when I arrived there–” he gestured to the park and beyond“--that I realised how foolish I was. If only I could go back, Severus, I would change everything from the moment you stepped foot in Hogwarts.”
Severus was keeping his composure by willpower alone. The longing for that could-have-been was an ache deep in his chest.
“I would have made you my son in an instant, my boy. Instead I fear I have hurt you irrevocably. But know this, my Severus.” Dumbledore stepped closer to Severus, into his personal space, close enough to feel the buzz of magical power around him and smell the eternal lemon drop scent that made Severus ache for the old familiar office.
His eyes were very blue and warm as they captured Severus’ in their gaze. “I have cared for you, and I always will, whether you choose to continue to the afterlife or return to the living. And if you forget that,” and here Dumbledore lifted his hands to cup Severus’ face with gentle, wrinkled hands “then remember this: I will never not be proud of you. It is too late for you to not make me proud beyond measure. You have already done more than anyone could ask of you, and you should not feel guilty should you choose to stay. Do you understand?”
Severus very much wanted to close his eyes, but he managed a shaky nod.
Dumbledore used his thumbs to wipe underneath his eyes, then he released Severus and stepped back. “Now. Speaking of choosing to stay. Due to circumstances, you have a choice. You may continue on to the afterlife, or return to your life until you die again. I know you think it is an easy choice,” he added, halting Severus’ interruption. “But you will have the opportunity to speak with several others who played important roles in your life, and only then will you decide. Either choice is fine, but you must consider carefully.”
“What is it like? The afterlife. It can’t look like this for everyone,” Severus asked, wiping his eyes discreetly. If Dumbledore is there, I may be able to give up my hope for nothingness.
The ancient wizard smiled mysteriously, his blue eyes twinkling. “No, certainly not. This isn’t technically it, it’s a sort of in-between state, similar to the inverse state of vanishment…” he chuckled at Severus’ frown. “It is in some ways just like mortal life. But time is rather strange…and speaking of time, I feel it is almost time for me to leave.”
“Will I see you again?” Severus blurted.
“If you choose to stay, then yes, sooner rather than later. If you return, I hope it will be many years, but whatever you choose, I will certainly find you again.”
“Promise?” Severus cursed his useless occlumency shields.
Dumbledore reached out and pulled Severus close with his hands on his shoulders. “To follow you wherever magic touches,” he incanted in Latin, “may this blessing heal your soul and lead you home. To peace, to life, to death, to home. To one be the other, the other to the one.”
The blessing settled in Severus’ soul and tingled across his skin. Dumbledore’s hands lightened, and through his tears, Severus saw the light blue robes begin to fade. Before he disappeared, Dumbledore dropped a kiss on top of Severus’ bowed head and whispered, “Turn around.”