“Have you not understood me? It was only Dumbledore’s protection that was keeping me out of Azkaban! Do you disagree that murdering his favorite student might have turned him against me? But there was more to it than that. I should remind you that when Potter first arrived at Hogwarts there were still many stories circulating about him, rumors that he himself was a great Dark wizard, which was how he had survived the Dark Lord’s attack. Indeed, many of the Dark Lords old followers thought Potter might be a standard around which we could all rally once more. I was curious, I admit it, and not at all inclined to murder him the moment he set foot in the castle.
“Of course, it became apparent to me very quickly that he had no extraordinary talent at all. He has fought his way out of a number of tight corners by a simple combination of sheer luck and more talented friends. He is mediocre to the last degree, though as obnoxious and self-satisfied as was his father before him. I have done my utmost to have him thrown out of Hogwarts, where I believe he scarcely belongs, but kill him, or allow him to be killed in front of me? I would have been a fool to risk it with Dumbledore close at hand.”
“And through all this we are supposed to believe Dumbledore has never suspected you?” asked Bellatrix. “He has no idea of your true allegiance, he trusts you implicitly still?”
“I have played my part well,” said Snape. “And you overlook Dumbledore’s greatest weakness: He has to believe the best of people. I spun him a tale of deepest remorse when I joined his staff, fresh from my Death Eater days, and he embraced me with open arms—though, as I say, never allowing me nearer the Dark Arts than he could help. Dumbledore has been a great wizard—oh yes, he has,” (for Bellatrix had made a scathing noise), “the Dark Lord acknowledges it. I am pleased to say, however, that Dumbledore is growing old. The duel with the Dark Lord last month shook him. He has since sustained a serious injury because his reactions are slower than they once were. But through all these years, he has never stopped trusting Severus Snape, and therein lies my great value to the Dark Lord.”
Bellatrix still looked unhappy, though she appeared unsure how best to attack Snape next. Taking advantage of her silence, Snape turned to her sister.
“Now… you came to ask me for help, Narcissa?”
Narcissa looked up at him, her face eloquent with despair.
“Yes, Severus. I—I think you are the only one who can help me, I have nowhere else to turn. Lucius is in jail and…”
She closed her eyes and two large tears seeped from beneath her eyelids.
“The Dark Lord has forbidden me to speak of it,” Narcissa continued, her eyes still closed. “He wishes none to know of the plan. It is… very secret. But—”
“If he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak,” said Snape at once. “The Dark Lord’s word is law.”
Narcissa gasped as though he had doused her with cold water. Bellatrix looked satisfied for the first time since she had entered the house.
“There!” she said triumphantly to her sister. “Even Snape says so: You were told not to talk, so hold your silence!”
But Snape had gotten to his feet and strode to the small window, peered through the curtains at the deserted street, then closed them again with a jerk. He turned around to face Narcissa, frowning.
“It so happens that I know of the plan,” he said in a low voice. “I am one of the few the Dark Lord has told. Nevertheless, had I not been in on the secret, Narcissa, you would have been guilty of great treachery to the Dark Lord.”
“I thought you must know about it!” said Narcissa, breathing more freely. “He trusts you so, Severus…”
“You know about the plan?” said Bellatrix, her fleeting expression of satisfaction replaced by a look of outrage. “You know?”
“Certainly,” said Snape. “But what help do you require, Narcissa? If you are imagining I can persuade the Dark Lord to change his mind, I am afraid there is no hope, none at all.”
“Severus,” she whispered, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. “My son… my only son…”
“Draco should be proud,” said Bellatrix indifferently. “The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: he isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect—”
Narcissa began to cry in earnest, gazing beseechingly all the while at Snape.
“That’s because he is sixteen and has no idea what lies in store! Why, Severus? Why my son? It is too dangerous! This is vengeance lor Lucius’s mistake, I know it!”
Snape said nothing. He looked away from the sight of her tears as though they were indecent, but he could not pretend not to hear her.
“That’s why he’s chosen Draco, isn’t it?” she persisted. “To punish Lucius?”
“If Draco succeeds,” said Snape, still looking away from her, “he will be honored above all others.”
“But he won’t succeed!” sobbed Narcissa. “How can he, when the Dark Lord himself—?”
Bellatrix gasped; Narcissa seemed to lose her nerve.
“I only meant… that nobody has yet succeeded… Severus… please… You are, you have always been, Draco’s favorite teacher… You are Lucius’s old friend… I beg you… You are the Dark Lord’s favorite, his most trusted advisor… Will you speak to him, persuade him—?”
“The Dark Lord will not be persuaded, and I am not stupid enough to attempt it,” said Snape flatly. “I cannot pretend that the Dark Lord is not angry with Lucius. Lucius was supposed to be in charge. He got himself captured, along with how many others, and failed to retrieve the prophecy into the bargain. Yes, the Dark Lord is angry, Narcissa, very angry indeed.”
“Then I am right, he has chosen Draco in revenge!” choked Narcissa. “He does not mean him to succeed, he wants him to be killed trying!”
When Snape said nothing, Narcissa seemed to lose what little self-restraint she still possessed. Standing up, she staggered to Snape and seized the front of his robes. Her face close to his, her tears falling onto his chest, she gasped, “You could do it. You could do it instead of Draco, Severus. You would succeed, of course you would, and he would reward you beyond all of us—”
Snape caught hold of her wrists and removed her clutching hands. Looking down into her tearstained face, he said slowly, “He intends me to do it in the end, I think. But he is determined that Draco should try first. You see, in the unlikely event that Draco succeeds, I shall be able to remain at Hogwarts a little longer, fulfilling my useful role as spy.”
“In other words, it doesn’t matter to him if Draco is killed!”
“The Dark Lord is very angry,” repeated Snape quietly. “He failed to hear the prophecy. You know as well as I do, Narcissa, that he does not forgive easily.”
She crumpled, falling at his feet, sobbing and moaning on the floor.
“My only son… my only son…”
“You should be proud!” said Bellatrix ruthlessly. “If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of the Dark Lord!”
Narcissa gave a little scream of despair and clutched at her long blonde hair. Snape stooped, seized her by the arms, lifted her up, and steered her back onto the sofa. He then poured her more wine and forced the glass into her hand.
“Narcissa, that’s enough. Drink this. Listen to me.”
She quieted a little; slopping wine down herself, she took a shaky sip.
“It might be possible… for me to help Draco.”
She sat up, her face paper-white, her eyes huge.
“Severus—oh, Severus—you would help him? Would you look after him, see he comes to no harm?”
“I can try.”
She flung away her glass; it skidded across the table as she slid off the sofa into a kneeling position at Snape’s feet, seized his hand in both of hers, and pressed her lips to it.
“If you are there to protect him… Severus, will you swear it? Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?”
“The Unbreakable Vow?”
Snape’s expression was blank, unreadable. Bellatrix, however, let out a cackle of triumphant laughter.