"Rest my soul, grace set me free,
I know my sins and they know me"
(song It Knows Me by Avi Kaplan)
The battle for Wizarding Britain's soul was over. But there was no peace. No relief. No stillness. Only grief, hurt, wailing for the lost, and the busy work of triaging the injured, comforting the dying and sorting the dead. Life and Death co-mingling, out in the open, bidding against one another for souls. Who lives. Who dies. The Good, the Bad, the Guilty, the Innocent. All, together, existing, or not, at the partially demolished Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The badly injured were tended to by Madam Poppy Pomfrey and volunteers from the not-as-badly injured. Professor Minerva McGonagall took charge and directed the recovery effort of the fallen 'heroes', keeping her poise, holding in her own anguish to get the job done.
Kingsley Shacklebolt and his aurors handled the dead Death Eaters, werewolves and giants on the outside of the Great Hall near the crumbled walls of the school. Those left fighting behind Voldemort, were either dead or captured. Many had run away when Harry Potter jumped up, alive, and things came to a head in the Final Battle as it will forever be titled.
Hogwarts' losses were fewer but devastating. Fred Weasley had perished as did young Colin Creevy, and Remus and Tonks Lupin. Lavender Brown was dead, torn to pieces by the vicious werewolf Fenrir Greyback who was himself beheaded by Neville Longbottom with the Sword of Gryffindor. Several more had fought bravely and lost. They would become known as the fallen 50 in the years to come. None will be forgotten. Except one.
Minerva spotted Harry Potter among the busy throng. He carried the lifeless body of Tonks in his arms, placing her gently beside her fallen husband. The weary professor hurriedly made her way to him. Seizing the young man by the shoulders and spinning him around to look into his watery green eyes,
"Mister Potter, is it true, what you said about Severus? His loyalties were to Dumbledore?"
Harry nodded. He was exhausted and in mourning for yet another lost paternal figure in Remus. McGonagall shook him gently,
"Harry, please. Severus?"
Harry shook his head, trying to find the strength to talk among so much sadness,
"Y-yes, Professor. He was the Headmaster's spy. He did whatever Dumbledore asked of him and that included killing the Headmaster. It was the Dumbledore's plan all along because he was dying of a curse anyway. Snape...Professor Snape...tried to thwart Voldemort at every turn and protect all of us at Hogwarts while appearing to be a faithful Death Eater."
Minerva recalled this past year. Severus was Headmaster but the cruel Carrows twins were otherwise in charge. Everyone had put the blame squarely on Snape's shoulders. Hatred was directed at him. Not the Carrows. Not Voldemort. Severus was the face of the evil that had besieged Hogwarts. Many attempts had been made on his life with her blessing.
But she should have known. She should have realised. The castle had accepted him as Headmaster. Something it had not done with Dolores Umbridge. Snape was a powerful wizard yet that last fight to drive him out, she recalled, he had hardly tried, using mainly defensive spells. She fought to hold back the tears,
"Harry, where is he? His body, do you know where it is?"
"Yes. The Shrieking Shack."
"Take me there, please, at once. The least I can do for him is to lay him alongside our other fallen heroes."
A determined voice came from behind her,
"I'll help."
Minerva turned to see Hermione Granger standing with a carpetbag full of Dittany. Minerva nodded,
"Right then. Lead the way, Mister Potter."
The great lawn was a terrible battlefield in the aftermath of a terrible war. Bodies, injured and dead alike, being helped or carried up to the castle's designated spaces. Harry led Minerva around the side of the school toward the Forbidden Forest. The large Whomping Willow, having done its part in dispensing with more than a few of Voldemort's army, stood in the distance. Harry pointed,
"Through there, professor."
The older witch took out her wand and shot a gray bolt at the tree hitting a gnarled knot near its foundation. The tree stilled. Harry and Hermione stopped, wide-eyed,
"How did you --"
Minerva hurried the two along, "Tell you later. Quickly, quickly."
The now acting-Headmistress knew this place all to well having been privy to the existence of the secret passageway. She also knew of Dumbledore's solution at hiding it by planting this enormous fistic tree. She had been against using such a dangerous form of concealment on school grounds even if it was an effective deterrent. More than a few students had ended up in the infirmary since its planting in 1971.
The trio entered the shack through a large hollow root at the base of the quieted Whomping Willow. The tunnel was still, its earthen walls cushioning any outside noises. Approaching the decaying wooden stairs up to the shack Harry said,
"He's in here."
The small rickety building groaned and creaked louder than usual as they entered. The distinctive cooper smell of blood hung heavy in the fusty air. A large pool of blood benignly seeped into the weathered old plank floors belying its tragic circumstance. Harry gasped,
"He was there, professor. We left him right there! Didn't we, Hermione!"
Hermione's eyes were wide,
"Yes, professor, he was there. We watched him... die...after he gave Harry his memories. There was so much blood. We couldn't do anything for him."
Minerva stood with hands fisted into her hips. She stared at the bloodstain as if thinking what to do next. Had someone taken him? Stolen his body? To help him? To destroy him? There was a desperate look on her face but a determined look in her eyes.
A tracking spell, her mind concluded. If he was dead his magic may not be traceable. She could only trace him if he were still alive. But Harry and Hermione both swore professor Snape was dead. Then she remembered. Blood can be traced back to its owner, much like footprints. It was old magic and had fallen into antiquation as its use faded through the generations. Her mind focused,
"There's an ancient blood tracking spell...what was it now..."
Then Hermione offered,
"Oh, I remember something about that as well, professor! I came across the reference in the Antediluvian section of the Library. I thought it might be useful when we were on the run.
It is an ancient form of the tracking spell, Appare Vestigium, whereby the blood of a living, or once living, being could be traced in case there were no footprints. It was used eons ago to track missing livestock, presumably preyed upon. If there was blood, they could track it."
Minerva nodded, "Ah, yes! Good! Now, if I remember correctly the qualifier is Sanguis. No,no. Cruor!"
Hermione had written down several spells she dimmed useful in an emergency situation like being chased by Death Eaters through an old forest in the middle of nowhere while hunting horcruxes. She dug into her bag finding the note on which she had scribbled the incantation, then read aloud,
"Yes, professor. The spell is Appare Vestigii Cruoris*."
Standing over Severus' blood, Minerva raised her wand and with a sweeping swish repeated the spell,
"Appare Vestigii Cruoris! Show the footprints of this spilt blood!"
The crimson stain spiraled upward and straight through the ramshackled roof. Minerva, Harry and Hermione ran out of the wonky wooden front door, scanning the immediate area for a trace of the deep red trail. Harry spun around looking bewildered,
"Where did it go?"
Hermione pointed,
"There! But it's just hovering."
Minerva was a bit perplexed as to why the stain had not fallen into a path they could follow. Then a notion,
"Someone must have disapparated with his body or used a portkey."
Repeating the spell with authority this time, Minerva waved her wand and demanded,
"Appare Vestigii Cruoris! Show me where your master is! NOW!"
The crimson swirl spun quickly in mid-air until it burst into blood red runes over their heads. Minerva read the signs, announcing,
"The runes point to a cave on the far side of the Forbidden Forest, the darkest part, where even staff are discouraged from venturing. The centaurs patrol its perimeter making sure nothing gets in...or out."
Harry thought before speaking which was unusual for him,
"So, it couldn't have been Death Eaters that took him. Not to the Forbidden Forest and certainly not with centaurs around."
Minerva agreed,
"True. Even if most of the adult centaurs were here helping us fight, the younger ones left behind would have taken up the patrols."
Minerva pointed her wand commanded,
"Duc Exercitum! Lead the way!"
The runes shot out toward the timberline. Following them into the Dark Forest, Hermione and Harry ran towards the trees while Minerva transfigured into her animagus form. She was much quicker as a cat. The trio leapt over fallen branches, through thick brush and undergrowth, over a small stream, and along shaded animal trails. They all stopped at a growth of trees where no light seemed to shine.
At that moment thunderous hooves galloped behind them. They turned, startled. A young female centaur stood fiercely, bow stretched, a sharp arrow at the ready,
"Halt! What are you doing here?"
Minerva regained her human shape and the young centaur looked surprised,
"Oh, Professor McGonagall, it's you! Is the battle over? My mother and father have not returned! Are they safe?"
Minerva spoke softly,
"Shana, your parents are as well as can be expected. They fought bravely as did all your kind, helping to insure victory in the end. They are assisting with the injured and should return to you in a day or two."
Shana nodded, visibly relieved at the news of triumph over the Death Eaters and her parents safety as she wiped away a tear that had escaped down her high cheekbone. These were stunning creatures to behold, noble, majestic yet fearsome,
"Good. That's good. What do you want here?"
"We think one of our professors was taken into the dark wood. We need to find him."
"No one has come in or out for a long time. Professor Snape used to come to search for his rare plants in there...but that was before--"
The young centaur was pensive, then straightened,
"We keep a vigilant watch. We would know of any breach in the perimeter. The dark spirits of the forest and the dire creatures live in there and they do not like visitors."
The older witch thought better of naming Severus as the missing professor for the centaurs had believed, as everyone, that he had turned against the Light. She was determined to get in there so she, almost pleadingly, insisted,
"The runes directed us here. Our friend might be...dead, but we have to at least try to help. We have to make sure."
Shana nodded but warned,
"You may enter but do so at your own peril."
"Thank you, Shana, and don't worry, your parents will come home to you soon."
Minerva pointed her wand at the hovering runes,
"Duc Exercitum!"
The runes jetted into the dark thickness of trees with the three wizards following close behind. Hermione spoke quietly,
"This reminds me of the forest of Dean...only darker."
Harry added,
"And creepier."
Several minutes later the runes finally came to a stop above a large rocky outcropping. The symbols coalesced forming the dark crimson bloodstain once again and spilled down over the boulders. Minerva gasped,
"Oh, Severus. He's in there....somehow. Wands at the ready and cover your eyes."
Minerva shouted, "BOMBARDO!"
The spell vibrated the air but nothing else happened. The stalwart witch threw forward her wand and blasted at the rocks again,
"BOMBARDO MAXIMA!"
Vibration, absorption, nothing. At that moment a wisp of dark smoke swirled up in front of her giving the older woman a start. She stumbled backward slightly nearly losing her balance. Harry and Hermione steadied their professor before she could fall. The black smoke grew large and commanded,
"Leave this place and never return!"
The small group shuddered at the overwhelming feeling of dread that suddenly surrounded them. A quick perusal of the area made the backs of their necks prickle. All around them eyes peered through the blackness, from every dark nook and cranny, behind every tree, bush and rock. Shining lights of gold and green stared, blinking, glaring.
Minerva returned her attention to the spirit,
"Our friend is missing and the runes led us here. We mean no harm. We only wish to find him and take him...or his body home. Please."
"How did they come to this place? And why?"
"We think someone took him. The reason, we do not know."
All the eyes of the dark wood staring at them narrowed. The great smokey forest spirit spoke again,
"Who are you?"
"My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am a profess-- I am acting-Headmistress of Hogwarts school just beyond this Forest, which sits on school property."
The spirit swirled angrily, snapping back at the witch,
"This Forest has been here long before your wretched school! We are ancient! You are trespassing on our land!"
Minerva maintained her calm, 'though if truth be told she was a bit intimidated by this now enormous black mass of swirling smoke,
"Of course," the Headmistress swallowed hard, "Of course, my humble apologies. We are trespassing but it is only because one of our own is missing and all indications are that he is here...behind those rocks."
~~*>*~~
"Oh, Severus."
He heard a familiar voice, someone calling his name. Then a tug as if someone or something was pulling at him. Where was it coming from? What did it want?
He had not taken stock of his surroundings until now. There was no urgent need to do so. He looked about. Everything was in varying shades of grey to the deepest darkest black. Objects, indistinguishable other than darker blobs amidst lighter blobs. No sense of a breeze, or fragrance in the air.
There was no pain here. The voice had tugged. A memory, a moment, filtered back. Yes, there was pain before...lots of pain. A large monstrous snake stabbing at his throat...over and over again. He grabbed at his head. Then calm.
Here, nothing hurt, not his body nor his mind nor his heart. There was no sense of dread. No fear. No panic. Except for what the voice brought. Don't listen, he told himself.
He blinked. He had not noticed before but there were people in front him. People behind him. Silhouettes. There faces obscured in their own darkness. Privacy? He remembered something someone had said to him a long time ago,
'There are two things in Life we must do alone...be born and die.'
Dead? All these people traveling in the same direction. But where to? How did he get here...wherever here is? Looking around again, the scene cleared only slightly. He was standing on a grey bank beside a greyer river. Across the slow flowing water was the only real light coming from a...what?...small window?...No, a doorway. Am I dead? I could be dead. The realisation did not startle him. His mind was peaceful.
I must be dead. And this is the River Styx? Nonsense! He did not believe in folklore or religions. It was all just a load of superstitious gibberish designed to control others. He did not believe in an afterlife either. More manipulative garble to instill fear...or as some sort of perceived comfort upon meeting one's own mortality. Yet. Here he was. Dead...or near death, perhaps, since he could he someone calling to him. Surprisingly, he was strangely at ease with this new dynamic.
"Severus"
The voice again, tugging at his mind and his...soul. Where was it coming from? He was suddenly curious. He listened. Silence. Then, as before, the voice broke through the stillness. The voice was coming in from outside of this place. He knew it,
Minerva?
The tugging was more forceful now. As if acknowledging the voice made it stronger. The darkness was becoming heavy around him. More memories flooded in. Violence. Pain. Servitude. Regret. Stop! He didn't want to remember the sorrow. He didn't want the pain. He didn't want the voice to call to him anymore. He screamed,
Minerva! Go Away!
~~*>*~~
Beyond where they stood, beyond the outcropping, out of the dark trees, something moved. A pair of angry golden eyes grew bigger as whatever it was began to approach. And whatever it was was huge. Harry raised his wand. Hermione's hand settled on his, pushing it back down.
The darkness quavered as the great shape seemed to stretch it, pull it forward like poking a finger into a balloon. Slowly, methodically, a large black paw reached through the dark. Then a snout and muzzle appeared, snarling, teeth bared, glistening, dangerous. Black as midnight, the great head of a panther pushed out of the depthless wood. The giant beast prowled forward, its massive shoulders undulating with each step. Powerful muscles rippled as the large cat came to stand between the magical trio and the forest spirit.
A low growl rumbled the ground beneath their feet as the beast gnarled an ominous warning ,
"Minerva. Go. Away."
She knew that voice!
"Severus?"
More demanding now the ghostly black cat roared,
"GO AWAY!"
Hermione leant in to whisper,
"Professor, what is that?"
Professor McGonagall clasped her hands together in front of her robes and pursed her lips,
"Likely a ward wraith of some kind imbued with Severus' voice...and his sense for the dramatic."
Harry chimed in a response,
"Like a voice answering machine!"
Minerva shook off the frivolous reference but Hermione did not,
"Yes, Harry. Just like an answering machine."
She rolled her eyes. Harry didn't know what he had said wrong,
"What?"
Minerva's attention never left the two dark spirits in front of her,
"Severus, we are here to take you back to Hogwarts."
A few long minutes passed as the great beast advanced easing its large snout forward to touch the tip of Minerva's nose. It snarled. The whole wood seemed to tremble as the beast growled lowly. The older witch held her nerve. She would not cower.
~~*>*~~
A tug, another memory: A small boy huddled against the wall of the long corridor. Books strewn about the floor around him. The boy, a Hufflepuff in secondhand robes, was crying. He bent down beside the boy holding his own books to his chest, "What's happened?" The boy trembled before looking up. Calming slightly, the boy sniffled, "T-the Marauders." He began to pick up the boy's books, "Come on. I'll walk you to your next class."
A voice called from down the hall, "Mister Snape! What have you done now?!" His face burned, anger welled up from somewhere deep inside, "I didn't do this! It was Potter and Black again!" Professor Minerva McGonagall stood straight as an arrow and with stern countenance chided, "Your continued audacity to cast blame on others for what you have done, Mister Snape, is becoming more than tedious. James Potter and Sirius Black are highly regarded students at this school." The magical educator eyed them, up and down, "While you-- Ten points from Slytherin! Your Head of House will be in touch as to your detention. Now, off with you both."
~~*>*~~
The towering dark forest spirit and the panther wraith vanished as did the boulders blocking their way.
~~~
NOTES:
*Appare Vestigii Cruoris : I made it up. Apologies to any Latin scholars out there 💖