Cursed hand, but the other held it up in polite refusal to discuss the matter further.

Scowling, Snape said, “The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely

punishment for Lucius’s recent failures. Slow torture for Draco’s parents, while they

watch him fail and pay the price.”

“In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I

have,” said Dumbledore. “Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job,

once Draco fails, is yourself?”

There was a short pause.

“That, I think, is the Dark Lord’s plan.”

“Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a

spy at Hogwarts?”

“He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes.”

“And if it does fall into his grasp,” said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an

aside, “I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at

Hogwarts?”

Snape gave a stiff nod.

“Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A

Frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and

guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you – ”

“ – much less since his father has lost favor. Draco blames me, he thinks I have

usurped Lucius’s position.”

“All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of

Whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing

to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort’s wrath.”

Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, “Are you

intending to let him kill you?”

“Certainly not. You must kill me.”

There was a long silence, broken only by an odd clicking noise. Fawkes the

Phoenix was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone.

“Would you like me to do it now?” asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. “Or

would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?”

“Oh, not quite yet,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “I daresay the moment will present

itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight,” he indicated his withered hand,

“we can be sure that it will happen within a year.”

“If you don’t mind dying,” said Snape roughly, “why not let Draco do it?”

“That boy’s soul is not yet so damaged,” said Dumbledore. “I would not have it

ripped apart on my account.”

“And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?”

“You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain

and humiliation,” said Dumbledore. “I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because

death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year’s

League. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it

will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved – I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or

dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.”

His tone was light, but his blue eyes pierced Snape as they had frequently pierced

Harry, as though the soul they discussed was visible to him. At last Snape gave another

Curt nod.

Dumbledore seemed satisfied.

“Thank you, Severus…”

The office disappeared, and now Snape and Dumbledore were strolling together

In the deserted castle grounds by twilight.

“What are you doing with Potter, all these evenings you are closeted together?”

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 519