A Second Chance
By: Jaree (mightyenas_pup@y...)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: None
Spoilers: All five books, just to be sure.
Warning: A very strange MpregDisclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. No infringement intended.
~*~*~*~*~
The book had to be around there someplace.
Albus Dumbledore searched through his many bookshelves, in a slight frantic pace, rifling through the numerous books that had gathered in his office over the many generations of Headmasters. His hands shook slightly, revealing his nervous state, but he kept himself breathing evenly, trying to calm himself down, but his heart was still beating frantically within his chest. He kept trying to tell himself there would be time to fall apart later, but nothing seemed to get through his frenzied state. His deep blue eyes, devoid of their normal twinkle, scanned different passages, behind his crescent-shaped glasses, before throwing them hazardly to the side. Not even his closest friends would recognize him, as he seemed to have changed from a wise and powerful wizard, to a possessed man.
The Headmaster’s office was unnaturally quite, except for the sounds of books hitting the stone floor and the murmuring coming from the Head of Hogwarts. The portraits of the past Headmasters were all silent, watching avidly, and with more than a little concern, as Dumbledore ripped through the office, becoming more crazed with each passing moment. Even Fawkes, looked on with a worried expression in his eyes. Every now and then, the scarlet bird would try to break the oppressive silence by trilling softly, trying to give any comfort he could but with no avail.
“There it is,” cried Dumbledore in relief as he grabbed a large blue book from off the self. He quickly scanned the old, heavy tome, looking for what he needed, and when he found it, he took off out of his office, like a man on fire, without repairing any the damage that he had caused. The portraits came instantly alive, gossiping amongst themselves, trying to figure out what the old wizard’s bizarre behavior meant.
Dumbledore made his way down the quite halls of the old castle, relieved that there was no one around to see him sprint down the long corridors. Everyone, but a select few, were away from the school, including the boisterous children that normally filled every part of the castle with noise. Dumbledore did not think Hogwarts had ever been so empty since it had been created, for even in the summer time, there were many professors in and out, getting ready for the new term, and some that even stayed in the castle permanently. However, he quickly put those thoughts aside when he reached the door that led to the hospital wing.
The Headmaster took a few moments to compose himself, outside the large doors of the hospital wing, as he knew it would do him no good if he worried Madam Pomfrey overmuch. After he calmed himself down, or as calm as he was going to become, he pulled out his wand and muttered a few words, shrinking the book he held in his hands, to a size smaller than a finger, and slipped it into his brightly colored robes. He then walked into the room, and was immediately greeted by Pomfrey.
“How is he?” asked Dumbledore, concern coloring his voice.
“There has not been any change,” replied Pomfrey sadly. She then reached out to the older wizard and tried to give him some support and added, “There is nothing that we can do. The damage is just too great. He won’t last much longer.”
Albus nodded, looking down at the floor, not able to look the Medi-witch in the eyes. “Could I have a moment alone with him?” questioned the wizard that looked to have aged a hundred years in such a short time.
Madam Pomfrey nodded and gave his arm a small squeeze and then walked out of the room to give the two men some privacy.
Dumbledore waited for a few moments to make sure the witch was truly gone and then went further into the room to where a figure laid spread out, over one of the hospital beds. His blue eyes filled with tears as he saw the battered body of his potion’s teacher. Voldemort had truly worked him over. There were cuts, from where a knife had been taken to him and bruises that marred his pale skin. Even the hideous dark mark seemed to pulse angrily, causing the ex-Death Eater great pain. For not the first time, Dumbledore wished he could pay Voldemort back for all of the pain and misery he had caused, but he knew that those thoughts were rather futile now, and that he should just be happy that Voldemort had finally been destroyed. However, this was only a small comfort to him as he watched Severus Snape slowly pass away from the land of the living.
Severus moaned soflty, but did not wake up from his unnatural sleep. Albus quietly pulled up a chair and sat down, pulling one of the younger wizard’s limp hands into his own. He then pulled out the book that he had brought with him from out his robes and restored it to its natural size. He once again opened it to the page that he needed and slowly went over what the book had to say. After he was sure that he had everything pretty much memorized he set it down on a neighboring bed and started to scan Severus, using his wand.
Dumbledore was no Medi-witch, but he did have some skill. This was very fortunate because he did not want Pomfrey to be there when he started the spell that he got from the book. However, the spell needed Severus to be just about dead, though still among the living. His condition needed to be carefully monitored or else the spell would fail, and he had only one opportunity to perform it. The spell was a very old one and bordered in between dark and light magic, like most ancient magic did. Most present day witches and wizards would shy away from using such magic, but Dumbledore knew it was the only chance that Severus had. The spell itself was rather simple; however, it took one of great magical ability to be able to perform it, and it had quite a few serious complications, but he felt that he would be able to handle whatever would come. If he succeeded, it would be well worth the effort. Dumbledore was also aware that many people would feel he was completely out of his mind, those that did not already thing so, and he thought that perhaps this time they were right, but he also knew, there was no way he would be able to live with himself if he did not at least attempt it.
Just as he was beginning to fear that Poppy would return before he had a chance to perform the spell, Severus slipped into the condition required for the spell, and Dumbledore began to recite the passage from the blue book, his wand clutched tightly in his right hand. He concentrated on pulling all of his magic into the spell. He could feel the magic come from inside him and then surround both Severus and himself. The pull of the magic was so strong, that he had a difficult time focusing it, and he closed his eyes tightly, trying to draw all of his strength to get the spell to work. He could feel himself loosing his energy, but he refused to give up, repeating the passage over and over. He could feel himself beginning to loose consciousness when he felt the spell complete, and he collapsed against the side of the medical bed unconscious but with a satisfied smile upon his face.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“It’s just not right,” murmured Harry Potter as he tiredly slumped against the Griffindor table in the Great Hall.
“I know Harry,” responded Remus just as tiredly, “but then most things never are when it comes to war.”
The war had not been over for more than twenty-four hours, and yet it seemed like an eternity. The final battle had been fought over at the Ministry of Magic as Voldemort had tried to take it over completely. He had almost succeeded, but Harry, with the help of the Order of the Phoenix, had been able to stop him at long last. There had been quite a few casualties, most of whom, Harry was not familiar with. However, each death still hit him hard, and he felt like an emotional wreck. Over the entirety of the war, he had lost so many dear to him from his parents, to Sirius, to fellow classmates that he had spent the last seven years of his life with. He was not new to loss, but even one more death just seemed to amplify just how terrible Voldemort was and how precious life truly was. Now, when the battle was finally over, and Voldemort was at long last dead, he was about to loose someone else, Severus Snape, dreaded Potions Master.
Severus Snape had never been one of Harry’s favorite people; in fact, most times, he could not stand the greasy git. He even had a difficult time believing that there was any hint of good in the man, and actually spent most of his time working with him, hating him. Harry often felt there was not much good that could come from a man that use to be one of the enemy. He knew that Ron and Hermoine, though she probably held the most favorable opinion of him, felt the same way. Still, over the years, Harry had gotten use to the professor being there, watching his back, and never really thinking about what the older man had actually put himself through. For the most part, he never saw the ex-Death Eater as really human. Anytime he thought he saw something that resembled humanity, he was just as soon reminded what a hateful man Severus Snape really was, but now his opinion was changed once again. Snape was down in the hospital, dying, and Harry could not think of him as anything but human, and thoughts of what Snape had actually done to help him, in all his time at Hogwarts, was beginning to sink in, and he was feeling a little overwhelmed. Harry could tell, looking around the table at those gathered that they all felt the same way.
Everyone was lost in there own thoughts. Remus, who was sitting across from him, was looking thoughtfully down at his hands, and Harry thoughts drifted to the fact the Severus was the one that made the Wolfsbane potion for the werewolf, and he wondered what was going to happen now. Hermione, who sat to his right and was trying to not to cry. Harry felt almost exactly the same way. Part of him felt that this was the time for celebration, for the Dark Lord was no more, but mostly he felt it was a time for mourning. They had all lost so much, and it did not matter that the Dark Lord was no more. Ron sat on the other side of Hermione, his arm rapped around her, trying to give her comfort. He looked a little lost but was trying his best to be strong for his friends. The last few weeks had been really demanding, and Harry thought everyone was now just trying to cope with the aftermath.
Harry’s thoughts were interrupted when the Great Hall’s doors opened and Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall entered. From the look on Pomfrey’s fate, Severus was not going to be able to hang on much longer. McGonagall looked rather upset as she sat down next to Remus, and Harry was once again reminded of the strange friendship that the Head of Griffindor had with the Head of Slytherin and knew that the Transfigurations teacher must be taking his soon death hard.
“Is there nothing we can do?” asked Harry in frustration, helplessness welling up inside him. It seemed to him that if they could defeat the Dark Lord they should be able to help the Potions Master.
Pomfrey shook her head sadly and said, “I’m afraid not. I have done everything I can think of, and I have even asked for the advice of my fellow Medi-witches and wizards, but everyone says the same thing; there is nothing that can be done for him, except make him as comfortable as possible. I’m afraid that won’t be for very much longer. Dumbledore is alone with him at the moment.”
Everyone went back to their private thoughts as they sat there waiting. They remained in silence for a little bit when all of a sudden they all felt this powerful surge of magic. Everyone eyes jumped up, and they looked at each other expectantly.
“What was that?” Remus questioned as he stood up from the table, pulling out his wand. Everyone else followed his example, but no one had an answer to his question.
“We should go check on Albus and Severus,” commented Pomfrey, already carefully heading towards the door. Everyone nodded and started to follow her. As they made their way down towards the Hospital Wing, they noticed the feeling, of strong undiluted magic, was not dissipating, but instead, increasing, coming towards them in mighty waves. This made each of them increase their speed. When the feeling suddenly stopped, they each took off in a run towards the hospital wing, where each was sure the source of the magical pulse originated.
What they saw made all their heart stop. Dumbledore was collapsed against the bed that once held Severus, who seemed to be missing.
“Albus!” cried Minerva and Poppy at the same time, rushing towards him, trying to see if he was alright. Pomfrey was already taking the white-haired wizards stats.
“What happened to Severus,” questioned Hermione right behind the older witches.
Remus, Harry, and Ron, looked around trying to see if they could see the Head of Slytherin, but could not find him anywhere, but Remus noticed the book on the bed next to where Severus had been laying. He walked over to it and picked up and read the page that was opened, curious about its content, be he was quite shocked by what he read.
Remus began pale as he what read, in the passage, began to sink in, and he whispered, “Albus, what have you done?”
“What is it Remus,” questioned Pomfrey when she heard what the werewolf had said, still checking over the fallen Headmaster.
Remus ran a hand through his prematurely, grey hair and said, “He has preformed and ancient spell. It is a second chance spell. From what I have been able to gather from this book, it is a spell that when a person life was far less than ideal, his or her life can be restarted, if the spell is cast right before the person dies.”
Silence met Remus’ statement, so he continued, “It takes a really powerful witch or wizard to perform this spell and most people will never have that sort of power in their life time. However, if completed successfully, the person the spell is cast on will revert to a child within a womb. Because of this, the caster has two choices. One, the caster can transfer the child back into his mother, and she can carry the child again, or two, the caster can impregnate his or herself.”
Everyone in the room looked at each other in shock. They could not believe what they were hearing. Poppy looked at the man unconscious in her arms in disbelief and shakily asked, “Albus has impregnated himself with Severus?”
