The unpleasant sensations ended abruptly, and we both fell on firm ground again. I knew we were safe as soon as I heard the orchestra playing Hogwarts hymn and crowd's cheering. People were moving around us, and then I heard Dumbledore's voice very near to us.
"He's back... he's back, Voldemort is back!" Harry panted, desperately trying to get the message to the Headmaster, who had kneeled next to us.
"Calm down, Harry, you're home. You both are home," Dumbledore looked up at someone behind me. "Severus, take Miss Swan to hospital wing, please. I'll take care of Harry."
Before I could protest, two strong arms pulled me unceremonously up on my feet, dragging away from the pitch. I could not find the strength to resist, so I merely willed my legs to move forward, while Snape half-carried me back to the castle and up to the hospital wing. My mind was too confused after everything that just had happened to ask anything. When we got there, he merely left me in Madam Pomfrey's care and left without even as much as saying a word.
While the nurse hovered around me, checking for any kind of injuries, I kept my eyes on the door, expecting Harry to show up anytime soon. Hell, he got cursed by Cruciatus at least twice. However it took a solid hour for him to finally arrive along with Dumbledore. What was more intriguing, there was a large black dog following him. My eyes widened slightly as I recognized the animal.
"Hey, Sirius," I quietly murmured, when the dog walked up to my bed and put his head onto the mattress, allowing me to scratch him behind the ear. "It's good to see you."
The dog whimpered, licking my hand, then he laid down on floor between Harry and mine beds. I looked over at Harry, but neither of us said a word. Too many things had happened tonight. He had went through the hell and quite literally. He needed the rest. Madam Pomfrey seemed to be in the same thoughts as she quickly brought the Dreamless Sleeping potion, coercing Harry into drinking it as soon as the Headmaster left. I, however, refused to drink it, convincing the nurse that I am perfectly capable to get some rest without potions.
I laid back in pillows, staring at the ceiling and wondering what was happening outside right now. Did they managed to capture Alastor Moody or whoever he was? Did they already set alarm into the wizarding society about Voldemort's return? All those questions kept me awake despite the both physical and emotional exhaustion.
I lost the track of time, being deep in thoughts... and then I dozed off. Until I awoke couple of hours later due to the voices right next to our beds. One voice definitely belonged to Professor McGonagall – she sounded extremely mad on someone. It was very unusual for her to lost her patience like this, so I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and raised up, resting on my elbow, a bit confused at what I was seeing.
Dumbledore was currently arguing with Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, while McGonagall and Snape were standing a few steps away, watching them both. McGonagall's face was flushed red in anger, her fists clenched, and it was actually terrifying sight, one that could easily send me running the other way were she aiming her deathly glare towards me.
Trying to follow what this all was about, I sat up properly and swung my legs over the edge of bed, quickly pulling my sneakers on feet. They all were too busy to notice my movement. So far I managed to understand that apparently Alastor Moody indeed was impostor, and it was no one but Barty Crouch Jr. However, thanks to Fudge, now it was impossible to interrogate him, because the Minister had arrived to the castle along with Dementor which sucked Barty's soul out as soon as it entered the room where the Death Eater had been kept.
"So, you say that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned only because these two are claiming it?" Fudge nodded shortly towards Harry and me. "Well, I found it hard to believe it."
For a brief moment minister's gaze fixed upon me. I barely restrained from giving him a death glare, untimely remembering that this was the same man who wanted to lock me up into the Azkaban basically for nothing. Just because my magic appeared very late. And now – he refused to believe that Voldemort had returned? I could barely believe my ears. It was too much.
"For Christ's sake!" I exclaimed in exasperation, jumping out of bed, ignoring warning glance from McGonagall. "Did someone stole your brain cells? Less than two hours ago Voldemort tried to kill Harry, he nearly killed me! Whatever nonsense Rita Skeeter put into her scribblings, even you must understand that neither of us would come up with such statement if there was no legilimate reason for it! And if you were smarter, you would have took Barty Crouch Jr. confession for what happened tonight!"
Now it was impossible to misinterpret the look of pure loathing in Minister's face. We both glared at each other, but before any of us could say a word, Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. Minister's face was screwed in disgust and shock as his gaze switched between Snape and Dumbledore.
Curious, I stepped forward and took a peek at Snape's forearm. My reaction was equal to Minister's, only accompanied with a loud shriek which no one seemed to notice, though.
"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord – "
He said something else, but I did not heard it anymore. I felt like the whole world had shattered in million pieces, each one cutting into my heart like a razor-sharp blade. My eyes were fixed firmly upon the skull and snake tattoo on Snape's forearm. The logical part of mind acknowledged the image before my eyes, but the rest of it, the less rational simply refused to believe it. I simply could not believe it. The Death Eaters were cruel, intolerant to Muggle-borns, obsessed with Dark Arts – basically, anything that Snape was not like. Not to me, at least.
From the other side – he most definitely matched with the image of Voldemort's followers. He had a knowledge of Dark Arts, he rarely hang out with any other staff member unless it was necessary, always alone, into the darkness. Yes, he could be one of them, but – never did I believed that he actually is the one.
I paid no attention to the others, only vaguely noticing that Fudge left and after Dumbledore's request Sirius phased back into a human form, causing a panicked scream from Madam Pomfrey who had joined us unnoticed. The sound of her frightened voice helped me to return back in here and now right in time to see how Dumbledore insisted for Snape and Sirius to shake hands in truce – I could not help but grin as they glared at each other, obviously wishing nothing less than death to the other as they did as Headmaster asked.
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape as soon as Sirius phased back and left the hospital wing in his dog form, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready ... if you are prepared ..."
"I am," said Snape.
He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.
Ready? Prepared? For what? Where could possibly Dumbledore send Snape? To rejoin his old buddies as double-agent like he did in past? Ex-Death Eater or not, why on Earth Dumbledore thought he was worth of trust? From the old "Daily Prophets" I already knew all those terrible things the Death Eaters had done in past, let alone more recent events in Quidditch World Cup.
Without even looking back at Harry and the others, I stood up from where I sat and hurried out of hospital wing to follow Snape. I had no idea of why, my reasoning faculty was dulled by a blind hatred. I felt betrayed and confused. Too many questions, zero answers and no one who could help me out or at least give me some clue. I had to find it out all alone.
As I walked down the stairs that led to the dungeons, a terrible idea crossed my mind. Snape earlier confessed that our private lessons were meant to prepare me for the oncoming battle against Voldemort under Dumbledore's orders. But what if – I shuddered, imagining such possibility – what if he trained me to later persuade to join Voldemort's side?
The dungeons as well as the rest of the castle were deserted. After the chaos at the Labyrinth, the students were sent back to their rooms and accordant dormitories, so I headed undisturbed straight to Snape's office where he most likely had went to in first place.
As I reached Snape's office, I pressed my ear against the door and listened. A soft rustling and footsteps confirmed that the Potions Master indeed was inside. I quietly opened the door and stepped inside as Snape reached for his long cloak. He surely noticed me the very second I entered the room, but he showed zero sign of acknowledge of my presence.
I felt an urge to lounge at him and kick his balls only to see if he would flinch. Snape's stoic peace and methodic movements around the room, preparing to leave, only ignited my irritation.
"You are one of them," that was not a question, I was merely stating the fact. "You're a Death Eater. One of Voldemort's servants!"
Snape paused, then restarted his movements, picking up a various phials from shelves and carefully tucking them into his frock coat pockets. Then he took his travelling cloak and wrapped around his shoulders, finally turning to face me.
"Miss Swan, I'm afraid that my past is none of your business," Snape coldly said.
"The hell it is! That's why Karkaroff sought you and showed his arm! An old friends, huh? Probably now you're happy. Could not wait for your master's return, could you?" The biggest part of my anger was directed at myself for being such fool, but then again, Snape was Head of Slytherin house, the most cunning and trickiest one of them all. Manipulating with people was a part of his nature.
"Like I said – and I don't tolerate being forced to repeat myself – this is none of your business, Miss Swan. And I would advise you to lower your wand!"
I did not realized when did I drew out my wand – the next thing my anger-consumed mind registered was that it was in my hand, pointed at Snape's chest.
"How could you? I trusted you!" I spat venomously.
"Lower your wand, Miss Swan," Snape drew out his own wand. "Should you be so stupid to actually try to use it, let me remind you first that I am more qualified in spells that you could ever possibly be."
"Tell me, how many people have you killed together? Or tortured?" I asked in soft voice that I learned from the very same man who stood in front of me.
"Calm down, Miss Swan, or I will be forced to – "
" – to do what? Hex me? Fed me with some potion? Please!" I snorted scornfully. "Is that the best you can threaten me with? You must be losing your catch, sir. Maybe now that Voldemort is back, he could teach you some new tricks how to terrorize the people?"
Snape moved so fast that I did not managed to cast even non-verbal spell. There was a bright flash of light, the wand flew out of my fingers and rolled across the floor when Snape lounged forward and slammed me into the wall, his pale face only inches from mine, his cold, black eyes blazed with pure fury. His hands painfully squeezed my shoulders, but it was easy to ignore due to a strange tingling sense in my stomach as if bunch of butterflies were dancing inside of me.
"I am very patient man, Miss Swan, but for once my patience has grown thin. I'm warning you the last time – "
"Get your hands off me, you insufferable – " I hissed, trying to struggle free from iron grip which held me firmly against the stone wall.
"Do you really want to finish that sentence, Miss Swan?"
"Guess what? Yes, I do! Insufferable freak! Murderer!" I managed to wriggle my right arm free and slapped him hard on face. It echoed with a sharp sound like a whiplash.
Snape abruptly released me as if he got burned and made a step back. I never seen him like this before. The sight was terrifying – his black eyes gleamed dangerously, teeth bared in anger. In a brief second I realized that since I reached age of seventeen, I was an adult in this world which meant Snape had all rights to treat me adequally, even hex me.
I held my breath, waiting for a curse which undoubtly was about to come at any second. And yet, here I was, cornered by a wizard who no doubts was skilled in Dark Arts (why else would he try to apply for this position so persistantly), but I could not force myself to feel even the slightest trace of fear.
"You – dare – to – attack – your – teacher?" Snape coldly punctuated every word with as much venom as only he could muster. "Lucky for you, right now I have more important things to do, but I will deal with you as soon as I come back!"
"From what I heard in graveyard tonight, Voldemort thinks you had left his service for good and he intends to kill you for that!" I dug my nails painfully in palms, hopelessly trying to control myself to not lounge at him again. "And I hope he will do just that! Better you'd be dead than one of them any longer! Better you'd be DEAD!"
The last word I practically yelled into his face. Anger swirled through my vains, all I could see was red, unable to think straight, however the momentary flash of pain in his eyes which was gone within a blink did not slipped my notice.
"Get – out – of – here! Now!" Snape's voice was dangerously low, only a bit louder than whisper, each syllable emphasized with menace, his face clearly showing disgust and loathing.
So far I felt lucky for not being cursed. Not wanting to push my luck any further, I cast a wandless Accio to retrieve my wand and then hurried to the exit, before Snape changes his mind.
Before closing the door, I risked to take one quick, final glance at Snape. He had turned his back on me and stood motionless at his desk, head bowed. One could almost mistake him for statue.
Something made me slightly nervous upon watching Snape standing so still, unmoving. During the last four years I had learned to guess his mood by his stance alone which was not so hard to figure out when one really paid attention, and, impossible as it may seem, Snape right now looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of misery.
A sense of guilt quickly replaced my anger. Only now I slowly start to realize the possible consequences my actions can bring upon my head. Not wanting him to turn around to see me still lurking at the door, I bit my lower lip in effort, trying to close the heavy door without a sound.
I just finished pushing the door close, when suddenly a strange sound reached my ears. I froze and pressed my ear against the door to better hear it. When the sound repeated I had no doubts of what it was.
A muffled sob.
Severus Snape – crying? If there was a man who was unable to cry, than Severus Snape was the one. But the sound on the other side of door was impossible to mishear for anything else. He did cried. And, even if I could not be absolutely sure of it, I knew I was the one to blame.
My legs refused to support my weight and I slid down on ground, leaning my back against the door, risking the possibility of him to run on me when he will leave his office. However, I had neither the will nor strength to care about it, though. I dropped my head between my knees, fighting with dizziness. My heart thundered so loud I was certain he could hear it even with heavy wooden door between us.
I tried to wrap my head around the fact how wrong I have been about him all this time. While everyone thought of him as greasy, annoying git, I always tried to look past his snarky behaviour to at least try to find some good side of Snape. And I was ashamed to admit that there were a few times it briefly came to surface – his good side, I mean.
Now I knew it was nothing but camouflage, just a mask he put on to deceive and trick those who were naive enough to fall for it – like me, for example. He really was a good double-agent. Usually I can easily read people. But then again, Severus Snape was much more than an ordinary person. The Dark Mark on Snape's left arm surfaced in my memory, and I shuddered.
He was one of them, a Death Eater. I heard about all those terrible things they have done in past. Now I knew that Snape used to be and undoubtly still was one of them. His hands were stained in blood. That explained his lack of emotions. He simply had no heart.
With that in mind, I stood up, brushed the dirt off my jeans and resolutely walked down the hallway, returning to hospital wing, not mentioning a single word about what just happened. This was the matter between me and Snape.
The final days of school year passed in rather gloom atmosphere. Neither Harry, nor I had wish to discuss what happened in the graveyard. In fact, the shocking information about Snape swayed my belief in people around me. I was uncertain to whom I could trust. Well, apart from Harry, Ron and Hermione, of course. They never lost my confidence in them.
Early morning in the day when Hogwarts Express was about to departure to take the students back to London, I was back in The Haven again, packing my stuff with Dobby's help. Now, since Voldemort was back, I had to return to Forks for a couple of weeks at least. There was a plan slowly forming in my head about what to do to secure Charlie's safety, so I was going to board the train this year along with my friends.
The most hardest task right now was to convince Dobby to not come with me. The little elf nearly cried, wanting to follow me and keep me safe, but I could not take him to Forks. I knew Charlie would most likely freak out, seeing him. And right now it was more essential than ever to keep the wizarding world in secret from him. Luckily I was able to talk him into staying at Hogwarts to wait how the events would unfold in future. Right now I had not a single idea of where I would be tomorrow, not to mention some further future.
The students were uncharasterically quiet on the platform, most of them following me with cautious eyes. Some even backed away as I walked past them. In the past four years I gained ability of ignorance, and so I just went on, not even paying the slightest attention to them. I was just about to get into the train, when Dobby appeared out of nowhere, holding small package in his hands along with letter.
"Dobby?" I frowned, seeing my elf who handed me the package and letter with slightly trembling hands, sorrow clearly evident in his huge eyes.
"Dobby made the parting gift for Missy. And Professor Dumbledore sends the letter." Dobby squeaked. "He says Missy Bella must read it alone. Very big secret."
I thanked him and gave a hug to lovely elf, then boarded the train, leaving him on platform. Most of students already were in compartments, though I still felt their eyes on me as I walked towards the end of train, hoping to find my friends in there. None of them knew the elaborated story of what happened within the maze after Harry and I touched the cup. Dumbledore, of course, told the students that Voldemort is back, but I could tell that not everyone actually believed it. And, since Fudge stubbornly refused to accept the truth, I had bad feeling that he will do everything to continue to hide the information from the people.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had settled one of last compartments, just like I thought. We spent the half of journey alone until Fred and George decided to appear and join us. I cherished those last moments of peace and carelessness until we reached London and passed through the barrier in King's Cross station, ready to face the new world, the one with dark forces within now.
And for the first time I truly felt that the world I just left behind was mine. I was part of it, I had real friends there, those who cared if I live or die and to whom I felt the same in return. Perhaps I have known it all along, only refused to admit it to myself out loud – it did not mattered right now.
With one last wave to my friends, I sat in taxi and allowed it to take me to the airport to return in Forks.