Severus only realised he should have followed her after a while. Omegas had left the office with an idea in her head, probably thinking that she had shared it with him, and certainly convinced that he knew exactly where she was going.
She often did that. She had the annoying habit of behaving as if he could read her mind. It was particularly irritating because he could have read her mind, if she hadn't placed an unyielding ban on the practice.
Checking the clock, Severus realised that another night had passed and that dawn was long gone. He decided to go up to the Great Hall to see if she hadn't stopped to eat at an absolutely inconvenient time—another thing he had seen her do far too often.
He didn't find her, but something else caught his attention, something he never thought he would see in his life. Harry Potter at the Slytherin table. He was sitting opposite Draco and the two boys were laughing. He narrowed his eyes and approached them slowly.
"Potter," he stated.
Draco, who had his back to him, started and seemed to shrink visibly.
Harry kept smiling. "Sir," he greeted.
Severus raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"
"Having breakfast, sir."
"I meant at this table, Potter."
"Oh," he replied. "Well, the Hufflepuff table was left empty. You know… out of respect."
Severus turned to see one of the four long tables, the one where Tonks had sat for months, completely empty.
"Since the Gryffindor table is full and Draco was here, I thought I'd keep him company," Harry added.
The Professor turned to them again and shifted his gaze slowly from one boy to the other.
"You thought you'd… keep him company?" he repeated, his eyes fixed on Draco.
"Yes, sir," Harry confirmed without swallowing his bite.
Severus kept studying them in silence.
"Any news on the Arch?" asked Harry.
"No," he replied coldly.
It wasn't entirely true, but he found the question inappropriate and rather impertinent, and suddenly lost the desire to cooperate. In any case, he had no concrete answers to offer.
"Then why are you here, sir?"
He didn't answer. He shot him a glare that was meant to intimidate him, but for some reason was met with a smirk.
"Looking for Omegas?" he ventured.
Severus could clearly hear Draco stifling a giggle. He turned to him with a look dangerous enough to kill on its own. Draco stopped laughing.
"No," he lied.
"All right, sir," Harry replied. "Anyway, she came to ask me to introduce her to Hagrid earlier, so I took her to his hut."
Severus sent sparks of pure hatred in the direction of both boys until Draco bowed his head and stopped eating for good. Harry, on the other hand, kept giving him the arrogant smile that had tested his patience for over seven years.
He turned and left without another word.
When he reached the gamekeeper's hut, he found it open. He entered and—given the size of the house—quickly established that the place was empty. He turned to head back to the castle, but two distinct laughs from behind the hut caught his attention. One was clearly the half-giant's; the other must have been Omegas'.
It surprised him. He had never heard her laugh like that since he had known her. Usually she chuckled, scoffed or at best giggled quietly. In her worst moments, Severus had heard her give bitter laughs. That, however, seemed to be sincere joy.
He walked around the small house and quickly reached the back. He had to cover his face with his hands; the sun was already high in the sky, and he simply did not have the strength to bear it, especially after another sleepless night. Glancing beneath his arm, he spotted Hagrid's tall, sturdy figure engaged in animated conversation with a beaming Omegas. She was wearing a dark purple dress and holding a large black umbrella above her head. There seemed to be a fence behind them.
Severus approached quickly. By the time he was halfway there, they both turned towards him.
"Ah, Severus!" she exclaimed.
"Professor Snape, sir," Hagrid greeted.
He gave each a nod, his arm still covering the top half of his face. Omegas walked towards him and offered him half of her umbrella. He settled under it, and could finally lower his arm to focus on the sight before him.
Inside the white fence were at least twenty Thestrals, all busy devouring half a dozen rotting carcasses.
"So, Rubeus," she said enthusiastically. "Shall we?"
"O' course!" he replied.
Hagrid stepped forward, fumbling with a large set of keys.
"Why are we here?" Severus whispered.
She gave him one of her mysterious smiles for the first time in what seemed like a century. He had forgotten how annoying they could be. He formulated the thought before his rationality could intervene to block it: he had missed it.
"Right then," the gamekeeper said. He drew the small white gate and opened it. "C'mon in, c'mon in!"
Severus and Omegas walked inside the fence followed by Hagrid, who squeezed through the passage with a remarkable amount of effort. The half-giant stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. At least a dozen Thestrals stopped devouring carcasses and galloped in their direction.
"Well, not all o' 'em are properly tamed, mind yeh," he said. "Some're right stubborn."
He approached one of the creatures and gave it a friendly pat on the rump. It gave a little whinny and followed him.
"This is Nyx," he announced proudly.
Omegas stepped out from under the umbrella and approached cautiously. She raised her arm and reached out to stroke Nyx's muzzle.
"Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, Severus?" she asked breathlessly.
Severus looked up at the beast. The Thestral was large, skeletal, with black skin, white eyes and two large bat wings. He felt he could say with absolute certainty that it was not the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. When he turned back to her to express the thought, he found her still busy stroking the animal's head with a soft smile and a pair of big dreamy eyes. He turned to Hagrid: he seemed to be on the verge of tears. He decided not to raise objections.
"Good ter see someone who appreciates 'em," the gamekeeper said, his voice cracking slightly. "Had ter bring 'em outta the forest, y'know… Didn' wanna risk them Death Eaters nickin' 'em. Useful creatures, Thestrals. An' right beautiful they are!"
"Beautiful, yes," she repeated softly.
"They don' like bein' 'ere, though," he added. "They're more fer dark places, an' there's too much sun 'ere, see?"
"Oh, I get them…" she murmured.
Meanwhile, Nyx had begun to rub its dragon-like snout against Omegas' shoulder.
Hagrid laughed. "Blimey, I reckon she's got a right soft spot fer yeh!"
She smiled. "The feeling is mutual."
"D'ya wanna take a ride on 'er?"
Omegas' eyes widened the exact same way they had done in front of her Venoms Professor—who, Severus observed, was probably the only creature on earth with an even less reassuring appearance than the Thestral.
"May I?" she asked.
"O' course, o' course!" he replied. "Just mind yeh don' go beyond the sheild, aye?"
Before she could do or say anything—and with clear discomfort on her part—Omegas had been lifted by Hagrid and placed on the back of the Thestral. The gamekeeper gave Nyx a vigorous slap on the backside and she immediately took off, bringing with her a great joyous laugh from the woman riding her.
Severus and Hagrid watched as she flew over the Astronomy Tower, circled the castle at least a couple of times, pirouetted around the park for a few minutes and finally landed back inside the fence—which Severus only then realised was completely pointless, given that the creatures could fly.
Omegas dismounted from the Thestral with a great leap and a satisfied smile.
"Thank you, it was amazing!" she said, smoothing the creases in her dress.
"No trouble at all!" he replied.
"And thank you for the tea and biscuits," she added.
Severus had to endure at least another five endless minutes of light conversation before he and Omegas said their goodbyes.
As soon as they turned their backs on the hut and began to cross the park, Omegas suddenly lost her broad smile and returned to her usual faint one.
"Merlin, my jaw hurts. How do people do this all day?" she whispered, massaging her face.
"Why are you wasting time riding Hagrid's Thestrals?"
She smirked. "I never waste time."
Severus shot her a venomous glare. She fumbled in the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small vial containing a black liquid.
He stopped in his tracks. "Is that… blood?"
"Yes," she replied calmly.
He raised an eyebrow. "This whole scene was to get Thestral blood?"
"Oh, no, I really do like Thestrals," she clarified. "But… well… yes."
She put the vial back in her pocket and took a step towards him.
"You know, it's better not to let anyone know you carry Thestral blood," she whispered.
"I know," he said. "So why exactly are you carrying Thestral blood?"
Omegas gave him another cryptic smile, and Severus rolled his eyes.
"Will you stop doing that?"
She frowned. "Doing what?"
"That… bloody mysterious smirk of yours," he blurted out. "It's insufferable."
She opened her mouth wide in an obviously feigned display of indignation.
"All right, you know what? Give me my umbrella back."
She snatched it from his hand and walked briskly towards the castle.
Severus huffed, his arm once again shielding his face from the sun. He strode behind her, annoyed and perhaps just a little amused.
"I can think of three ways to get in there that don't take an eternity," Omegas declared as soon as they returned to his office, pointing to the large stone Arch behind the desk.
"And they are?"
"Well, the first is for one of us to become something halfway between life and death," she explained.
She pulled a sceptical face and sucked her teeth.
"That seems a bit drastic. Although I think vampirism would suit you, you know?" she remarked. "Has anyone ever told you that you look a bit like a giant bat?"
Severus stood to his full height and returned the cheeky smile with one of his best deadly glares.
"Not in these terms."
She chuckled. "Anyway, I don't think it's exactly feasible. The second way I can think of is to do absolutely nothing. Just go in. I've decided to call it the 'Potter Method'."
"Imprudent," he said.
"Indeed," she agreed. "I don't think I'd be able to get out, would I? Once inside, I'd become part of that world halfway between life and death, and I wouldn't be able to return to the world of the living."
Severus couldn't help but notice the sudden shift to the first person, and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to convey this with his next glare, but she ignored it.
"Which brings us to my third idea," she said.
He waited for her to elaborate, but all he got was a piercing stare. He urged her to go on with an impatient wave of his hand.
"While you are all busy studying the healing properties of Mandrake, at Durmstrang they teach something called Kräuter und Mischungen," she explained. "Herbs and Mixtures. Extremely useful when combined with the Venoms lessons."
She pulled a bundle of branches tied together with a string from her bag, sniffed them and threw them into Severus' hands. He imitated her, sniffing at the small dark purple berries hanging from the bright green leaves.
"Belladonna," he stated.
"Yes," she confirmed. "Now, the magic that surrounds the Thestrals is almost entirely unexplored territory. It is believed that they do not belong to our world, the realm of the living, and that's why only those who have consciously seen death can see them."
He rolled his eyes. "I know. Do you have a point or are you just showing off your extensive knowledge of Herbology and magical creatures?"
Omegas smirked. She took out the vial of Thestral blood and put it on the desk in front of him.
"I don't think they're from another dimension," she stated.
"Me neither," he replied.
"But I do believe, because I've seen it, that the legends about their blood are true."
Severus gave a sarcastic look. "You think it brings the dead back to life?"
"Not exactly," she replied. "Nothing can bring the dead back to life. What the Thestral blood does, when taken in its pure form, is keep the dead anchored to our plane. It manages to keep the soul… alive. Not forever, of course, just for a while. It is said that in some cultures, in ancient times, it was used to say goodbye to loved ones when they were on the brink of death. It's no longer a common practice, anyway. Not since Thestrals were declared 'dangerous' by most magical governments."
Severus listened to her intently. He watched her reach for the vial of Thestrals Blood and eye it with what he read as a hint of guilt.
"What exactly are you suggesting?" he asked.
She turned to him. The hint of guilt was no longer just a hint.
"Hypothetically," she said softly, approaching him with measured steps, "if someone took the blood and then died… they could enter the Arch, because they wouldn't be alive, but their soul would remain anchored in our world, at least for a while. Hence, presumably, they could also come out, right? And again, since whatever is inside the arch is in a state halfway between life and death, assuming that is indeed the case… if you made it drink Thestral blood, the snake should become anchored to the plane of the living. It would be possible to remove it from the halfway state, bring it back to our world, and then kill it."
There was a pause. Severus took a moment to think about it.
"Assuming it works," he replied gravely. "Once the effect of the blood wears off, the person entering the Arch would no longer be in a state halfway between life and death. They would die."
"Yes, they would," she replied. "They would…"
She lowered her eyes and fiddled absentmindedly with the branches Severus was holding. It was only when she plucked one of the small purple berries and turned it a few times in her fingers that Severus understood. He parted his lips in horror and snatched it from her hand.
"Are you suggesting you kill yourself?" he asked sharply, throwing the branches on the desk.
She gave a wry smile. "For a bit."
Severus' nostrils suddenly flared. "For a bit?"
"For a bit, yes," she confirmed. "If I stay anchored in the realm of the living and take an antidote before the blood wears off, technically—"
"You don't know that," he snapped. "You haven't the faintest idea. For all you know, Thestral Blood could do absolutely nothing."
"No, I'm positive it—"
"You might die before you find the snake," he cut her off. "The antidote might not work if you don't take it immediately. The Arch might prevent you from getting out, and you could end up stuck there. We have no idea—"
"Yeah, it's a bit of a leap in the dark," she murmured.
A rage he didn't remember being able to feel rose in Severus' gut.
"No," he said firmly.
Omegas furrowed her brow. "Do you have a better idea?"
He lifted his head and looked at her. That look must have been particularly fierce, as for the first time since their encounter she seemed genuinely frightened.
"Look, I'm not saying it's ideal," she hastened to add. "I'm just saying I think it's worth a try. Worst-case scenario, I'm trapped in the Arch, and sooner or later you'll come up with a better idea than mine and get me out."
Severus, still silent, kept his dangerous black eyes fixed on her.
She took a cautious step back. "I mean, we're talking about the last Horcrux…" she muttered. "If I manage to get it out, it will be over. It will be really, really over. Even if I die trying—"
"YOU WILL NOT DIE!" he roared.
Omegas jumped.
They stared at each other. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed too shaken to utter a word. Severus didn't look away until he saw a note of fear in her eyes that she had never directed at him before. It hurt him. The pain only added to his anger, and he was finally forced to avert his gaze.
He turned sharply, grabbed the Belladonna and left the office slamming the door behind him.
For a long time he did nothing but pace up and down the dungeon corridor, unfazed by the glances he received from anyone who happened to pass by. By then, they must have gotten used to seeing him prowling around the castle, grim, restless and looking like someone who could take them out if they asked him a single question about it. It was quite the ordinary sight.
The problem was that nothing about that situation was anywhere near ordinary, and he knew. He wasn't just grim, restless or grumpy. He was furious.
How dared she even suggest such a thing? He shouldn't have been surprised, he thought. She was the same woman who had thrown herself unarmed at Bellatrix Lestrange's neck. The same one who had taken a desperate flight without holding on to the broomstick, casting spells with two wands at once. The same one who had nearly choked to death while controlling the corpse of a raven, and who had howled at a Werewolf in the middle of the Ministry of Magic.
"Miss Sylith is extremely good at her job, but also terribly reckless, and I'm not entirely sure she understands where the line is between good and evil."
Yes, McGonagall was right. She needed to be controlled. How had she always gotten away with it, in seven years of wars all over the world? How had he let her risk her life at least half a dozen times since he had known her? Why had he just watched, curious, even amused, while she was one step away from killing herself?
No, that wasn't the right question. He stopped in the middle of the corridor, his gaze suddenly lost.
Why did he care? Why was the thought of her dead body lying on his office floor suddenly so unbearable?
Severus asked himself those questions, and gave himself an answer. That answer was promptly suppressed with a fresh wave of fury—one definitely more aggressive than the first. He embraced that fury, welcomed it. It was far better than what it had just hidden.
He turned and walked back to his office, slamming the door behind him once more. He reached her and slammed the branches of Belladonna on the desk.
"Do it," he spat. "Kill yourself."
Omegas looked at him with the same calm concern she had shown a few minutes earlier. Gently, she placed a hand on the branches and brought them up to her face.
"All right," she said softly.
"Good. Tomorrow. You prepare the poison, I'll prepare the antidote."
"All right," she repeated.
Severus walked around the table and began to take out the ingredients. She watched him without moving a muscle or saying a word.
"What?" he snapped.
She smiled at him. "Do you want me to prepare it in the hospital wing?"
He stared at her for a long moment. "No."
Omegas nodded weakly. She reached for her ingredients and calmly prepared the poison that would kill her in just twenty-four hours.
When they finished work that evening, they both put away their cauldrons in silence and without exchanging a glance. They left the office and went straight to Severus' quarters, both agreeing that informing Harry or anyone else in the Order of their impending plan would not be wise.
To avoid any awkward questions over dinner, they decided to eat alone; or rather, Omegas decided to eat alone, as he had no intention of touching any food. When they entered his quarters, he made the food appear on the low table and went to his room without saying a word to her.
He took one of his Sleeping Potions and drank as much as he knew would be enough to put him into a deep sleep and wake him up the next morning. The reason for that choice, Severus told himself, was that he would need a clear head for the next day and he had spent far too many sleepless nights recently. He was careful not to admit to himself that, deep down, he was afraid that if he stayed awake, his anger would eventually fade, forcing him to confront what lay beneath.
Opening his eyes at dawn, Severus wished he hadn't done it. The potion he had invented was supposed to give him a deep, dreamless sleep, but like any other Sleeping Draught, its power had diminished with time and repeated use.
He had dreamed. He had seen her body lying on the floor of that house, cold, devoid of the magnificent life that had accompanied her ever since he had known her as a child.[1] How many times had he watched her from afar—too scared to take a step, too odd, too stupid, too ugly for those bright green eyes to choose to meet his.
And then she had smiled at him. A sweet, pure smile. A smile too bright for him, or for anyone else in that bitter world, to deserve. Beautiful.
He had held her close on that very floor, next to a crying child that was not his and would never be, and a husband that was not him and would never be. Potter had sacrificed for her. How he wished he could have had the privilege of being the one to sacrifice for her. He ran a hand through her long, dark red hair, just as he had done countless times he had dreamed of that night.
Then something happened. Something different, something new. Something terrifying.
Her hair darkened, and her lifeless green eyes turned violet. The dark bedroom became his office and the cradle beside him turned into a large stone Arch. He looked at the body in his arms. It was not the body he was supposed to be holding. It was not the nightmare he was supposed to be having.
When Severus woke up, he cried, and then he got angry again, for anger seemed to be the only thing strong enough to hide everything else. He remained shut away in his bedroom, determined to put off the moment when he would have to look into those violet eyes again for as long as possible.
"Good morning," Omegas greeted him as soon as he finally reached his office. "Did you sleep well?"
He raised his head and looked her in the eyes with all the resentment he had accumulated the previous night.
"I'll take that as a no," she murmured.
She cleared her throat, smiled tentatively and arranged three vials in front of her.
The first fluid was pitch black, thick and opaque. The second was a bright shade of purple that appeared to emit its own light. The third was a clear, milky white liquid.
"We're ready," she announced.
As he shifted his gaze from the vials to her face, all his anger suddenly disappeared, allowing everything underneath to come out without his consent. He approached the desk cautiously, picked up the purple vial, and clenched it in his fist. He met her eyes again.
"Why do you have to do this?" he asked quietly.
She sighed. "Severus, we've talked about this. It's the only—"
"But why you?" he cut her off.
She gave him a long look and smiled gently. "Because I'm resilient," she replied.
"No one is resilient in the face of death," he said gravely. "Not even you."
She scoffed. "Funny. I thought this was all about a guy known as 'The Boy Who Lived'."
"You know why he lived."
She looked at him again. "Yes, I know," she murmured. "And I know why he must keep living."
As Severus locked eyes with her, he had the distinct feeling that those words had nothing to do neither with Voldemort, the prophecy, nor the war.
"Someone has to do it, and it's quite logical, when you think about it, that someone is me," she added. "I know the legends of Thestral Blood. I speak Parseltongue, and it's a snake we're trying to recover. I can endure pain, and I'm afraid there's going to be a lot of pain to endure."
He approached her, and the closer he got to her, the less valid any previous reasons for not just being honest with her seemed.
"I don't want you to do this," he stated.
She gave a half-smile. "Then who?"
Severus considered uncorking the vial in his hand and drinking its contents before she could suspect his intentions, knowing full well that his expression would betray him sooner or later. But as he lowered his eyes to the vial, he realised that he was no longer holding the purple one, but the milky white. Omegas had switched them and he hadn't even noticed. He had the antidote.
She stepped back quickly, a cunning smile returning to her face. She picked up the black vial and held it, along with the purple one, in front of her.
"I'll take half of this, it should be enough," she said, shaking the Thestral Blood. "I'll use the other half to bring the snake here. I'll take all the poison, the calculations are correct. What you hold in your hand is the right amount of antidote. I should have a couple of hours. If I don't come back, well… it means I was stupid."
She looked up at him.
"Try to be smarter than me in that case."
Before he could say or do anything, Omegas had drunk half of the black vial and emptied the purple one.
There was a moment of silent horror when Severus' wide eyes met hers. Then something happened. Omegas let out a hoarse, painful groan. He approached her in a single bound—she had never shown pain before.
"No, no!" she cried. "It's all right. I'm fine."
She put a hand to her chest and looked at the clock above her head.
"There," she said softly. "I'm dead."
She put the two vials back in her pocket, then reached for the bag on the desk. She slung it over her shoulder and exchanged a single glance with him. Her eyes were as lifeless as he had seen them in his dream.
"I'm going," she announced.
Severus swallowed and nodded once. "Two hours," he warned.
She nodded back. She stood before the Arch, took a deep breath and disappeared beyond the Veil.
The two hours were agonisingly long. Severus paced his office with such restlessness and conviction that, halfway through waiting, he began to wonder how the floor had not worn out yet. The hands of the clock behind him seemed to move slower, yet louder. Three times his lucidity wavered to the point where he seriously considered throwing caution to the wind and stepping into the Arch. But he didn't. He couldn't.
"I've decided to call it the 'Potter Method'."
"Imprudent."
Imprudent, he thought. To hell with prudence. She hadn't cared about prudence.
For a fourth time, he was on the verge of doing it, but as he tried to take the first step through the Veil, he suddenly remembered the reality that had been with him since his miraculous rebirth in that abandoned shack.
Severus did not want to die.
He stepped back and kept waiting.
An hour. An hour and a quarter. An hour and a half. At an hour and three quarters, he began to tell himself that it must be any moment now. She wouldn't wait until the last minute; she'd be smart enough to come back before the deadline, so she'd have time to take the antidote.
An hour and fifty minutes. Assuming the antidote worked at all. Antidotes had to be taken as soon as possible, and she had been dead for…
An hour and fifty-five minutes.
It was over; she wasn't coming back. Even if she did, she would return just in time to collapse on the floor of his office and lie there dead. He would have preferred it if she hadn't. She could at least have the decency to stay in the Arch and not force him to live that agony.
An hour and fifty-eight minutes. Severus placed the vial of antidote on the desk. He brought a hand to his face, suddenly feeling the need to retreat to the darkest, most secluded corner of the room. He stood up and took one last fleeting look at the clock as he prepared to return to his quarters and possibly never leave them again.
An hour and fifty-nine minutes. She was gone.
Then Severus heard a sound. It was the clear, distinct sound of something hitting a stone surface. He turned so quickly he almost lost his balance. What were undoubtedly Omegas' gloved hands were gripping the two ends of the Arch, while the rest of her body still seemed to be on the other side. Slowly, her nose, then her forehead, then her eyes, and finally her bizarre cloud of black hair emerged from behind the veil. She stayed there, hanging, hands and head on one side, the rest of her on the other.
"You know, this might be the perfect time to give me that antidote," she said calmly.
Severus ran to the desk, grabbed the white vial and reached her in a single great leap.
"You'll have to give it to me, because I can't let go of the Arch. I've got him tied to my leg, but the idiot keeps resisting."
She turned her head; for a moment her eyes were back in the veil.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you, you bloody—"
"Drink," Severus urged.
He poured the contents of the vial into her mouth. She froze for a moment, then let out an even more painful-sounding moan than before. She wavered, and one of her hands slipped from the Arch.
Severus' arm shot forward and gripped her tightly. He pulled with all his might. Her eyelids drooped and her strength deserted her. Suddenly, he found that feeling extending to her.
He didn't want her to die.
"Don't you dare die!" he thundered.
He pulled harder, then even more. Drawing on a strength he didn't know he had, he pulled until it was finally enough.
Omegas shot out of the Arch and fell to the floor of his office. She didn't speak, didn't get up. She just lay there. Severus approached her cautiously, not bothering to get up from the floor. He swallowed and hesitantly put an ear to her chest.
Her heart was beating.
Anger surged through him again. Her bloody heart was beating, and she dared to lie there helplessly while he nearly passed out from fear. Guided by far more than just his will to revive her, Severus knelt before her and slapped her in the face.
Omegas shot her eyes open, once again of a bright purple, and inhaled sharply. She laughed.
"Bloody hell, that was something!" she rasped.
Severus gave her a deadly glare that he kept in a special place in his repertoire under the heading, 'To be used only in case of emergency'.
"You are a bloody idiot," he spat. He truly, wholeheartedly meant it.
She laughed again and lay back down on the floor. "It worked, Severus. Can you believe it? It worked!"
"Yes," he hissed. "You almost died."
"No, no, I did die!" she pointed out. "And then I came back, isn't it crazy? I mean, I've done weird things, but I had never died before!"
Severus took a deep breath, bringing a hand to his forehead in a desperate attempt to stop himself from killing her with his own hands.
"Now," she murmured, getting up from the floor. "I feel the need to apologise for what I'm about to show you, Severus."
He frowned. He got up in turn and looked at her; she seemed genuinely sorry.
"Apologise?"
She nodded. "You see, I only had enough blood to bring back one, and… well, he was there, and unlike the others, he seemed conscious, you know? He was the only one who seemed to want to come back, or even remember that there was a place to come back to. So I… I had to make a decision, and I'm not sure you're going to like it."
Severus narrowed his eyes in confusion. He followed her gaze at the base of the Arch and froze on the spot.
He had been so preoccupied with her that he hadn't noticed what had emerged from the veil with her wasn't a snake at all. It was a gaunt man kneeling on the floor, his long, dirty hair falling to the ground.
She approached him with measured steps. "The first and last time I saw him, a few days ago, he was at least twenty years younger, but… unless I'm very much mistaken…"
She grabbed the man's hair and forced him to lift his head.
"This must be Sirius Black."
[1] Technically, in the books, Severus never entered the Potter house after Voldemort's attack. This is the only element I chose to take from the films rather than the books. It will be plot-relevant in the following stories on more than one occasion.