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Thank you for my loyal readers of this story. This chapter has been on my mind since finishing DH some time ago. I always liked to think that it fit in with cannon and was possible though not probable. This is my final addition, a way to wrap up questions and fill in all the holes to keep it congruent with JK's novels. I hope you like it. I would appreciate any feedback you might have. Thank you so much for reading! Special thanks to Jackie, Haley, the other Mandy and Juls for making this chapter possible. Go-Go Team Awesome!


Madeline was sitting in her office recording a neatly stacked pile of tests into a grade book. It was in her nature to finish things promptly, grading was no exception. She glanced at the tall grandfather clock that sat across the vaulted room. It stood aside two full skeletons that had no bar connecting them or holding the bones in place, they were standing by magic alone. She took in a great breath allowing it to fill her chest.

There was a crisp knock on her office door that drew her head around sharply to look at it. The clock read half past 8 in the evening. Classes were winding down for the inevitable let out for summer, therefore it was rare for students to come to her office at all – let alone this late. If it had been Brent Mullins, the healing teacher and her best friend, or the newly married Kantela Ives, the magical fire specialist instructor – the Pyromancy teacher, they would have likely just come in.

She straightened in her seat, smoothing her red velvet robe and applying her most naturally curt expression. “Come.” She said pointedly. The door didn’t creak open, it was pushed ajar with determination and force but closed just as promptly. Madeline did her best to hold back her surprise at who had arrived. Standing in her office was the king of the local fae population, Dexter Murphy. He was a young man, barely older than her graduating students – but he held a sort of charisma, charm and command she couldn’t quite place. His race was mystery to her, a flighty sort of creature comprised of pure magic wrapped in the body of a human to hide and disguise themselves so they too could exist with the Mundanes. The Sluagh were this sort of magical creature, a subclass of the fae race. The fae were allies of the mages, a good thing Madeline figured as their magic was more raw and powerful than the conduits of sorcery that mages had to be. Most fae were mischievous, playful and sometimes dangerous with their magic. Dexter was no exception to this rule, he was often full of coy joking; but when the occasion called for it he could set aside his true magical nature and pull for the serious human side of himself. It was what made him a good leader; a good king.

She got to her feet. “Your majesty, what brings you here? Is it a matter of the court?”

His dark eyes cut to her, their typical dancing and laughing nature holding no such emotion today. He seemed rather drawn, if not a little sad. Madeline couldn’t help but notice how unnatural it looked on him. “I’m sorry to say, no. I come on issues of a personal nature.” He said striding over to her. His true appearance was masked to the Mundanes who didn’t believe in magic, who didn’t live with it as she did. To her trained eyes she saw and elfish looking man, wearing tall pointed ears and a slightly ethereal face structure. The same way Sluagh, to those who knew, saw pasty skin and hallow sunken eyes.

Madeline’s expression hardened, her brow furrowed and her eyebrows knitted together. “Please sit.” She said pointing at the chair across from her desk.

“No Madeline.” Dexter said moving closer to her. “Not this time. I think it would be best if you came to this chair and sat.” He said taking her hands and guiding her over to the handsomely crafted wooden chair. After she took it he knelt before her bowing his head slightly. “Sleeper, my Sluagh advisor, arrived moments ago with news from England. News of the war going on there and news of your husband. Madeline, there’s no delicate way to say this, forgive me for being so base and pointed, but he’s been killed.”

The words hit her like icy water and she laughed hollowly, shaking her head. “Impossible. Surely you’re mistaken – surely Sleeper heard wrong.” Madeline’s voice was choked in sheer disbelief. She felt her throat close a little and her chest tighten as well as a sharp prickling behind her eyes. Though her words denounced his she couldn’t help but hear the honesty ringing in them; and there was the ever present fact that Sluagh knew everything from the gossip about who’s was sleeping with who all the way to decisions the prime minister of England would make before he knew he would make them. She had no idea how they came by their secrets but they were never false, they were often gritty and honest.

“No ma’am, it’s true. Know that he didn’t die in vain. He helped in the final fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort. England is a free nation again.” Dex said, the only hint of hope in him was echoed in that moment.

“And to what cost!” She snapped, stepping up from her seat. She whipped around and pressed her hands firmly on her desk, hoping to hide her shaking knees and queasy stomach. “The loss of many for one man, one horrible vile man. Dex it will never end – it didn’t end here for us last year when we destroyed our foe – there are still dangers here; the same will be true there.” She bit into her tongue bitterly. They were just words now, words to keep the tears at bay, words to cover the pain, there was little truth or meaning in them.

She felt his hand rest on her shoulder blade comfortingly, there was warmth radiating from him. It could have been her imagination or it could have really been there but it seemed as if she was absorbing some of his magic through the contact; as if she were gaining a small amount of strength from it. Even in its smallest measurement, it helped.

“You will leave this land now. Immediately.” Severus told her shortly. He was standing at his full height, his arms were folded over his chest and wearing a typical Snapely sneer. After Minverva McGonagall was rejected as Headmistress and he was named Headmaster by the Ministry of Magic he was granted the power to choose his own staff. Under the guise of a loyal servant of the Dark Lord Severus had appointed all Death Eaters to the vacant posts at Hogwarts. When Madeline had appeared in the cusp of danger on his proverbial doorstep he was less than pleased.

“I have no intention of abandoning you or this country. I’ve come to stand by my husband and make my intentions known. I will not run Severus.” She told him defiantly.

“I’m not asking you to run Madeline, I’m telling you to keep our children safe. This isn’t even a discussion, it’s not up for debate. I will not hand you over to the Dark Lord – that’s exactly what you’re asking of me.” He snapped. Though it seemed as if he were being unwilling to bend, and perhaps he was, his true meaning was masked. There was a deep seated fear in Severus that something dreadful could happen, and likely would, to his family if they stayed in England. He didn’t give out love lightly, rather he didn’t give it out at all, so when that emotion was present in Severus he meant to keep it. He refused to let anything happen to them, as long as it was in his power.

“It’s just as dangerous at the Academy Severus. Just because our biggest foe, of the time, was defeated in May doesn’t mean we’re safe. It doesn’t mean others haven’t risen in her stead. Trust me when I say they have. It’s only been three months and there’s a struggle over who will next succeed her. There’s a man Severus, one by the name of Norman, who’s learned how to steal souls by murder. He kills fae and places their magic in mages, witches, wizards, whatever you want to call them.” She threw her hands up in the air angrily. “He’s breading a race of powerful troopers by murder, and a side effect of that amount of magic in one being – insanity. Insanity Severus, one mortal being isn’t meant to hold that much magical power; it drives them crazy. Are you listening to me, really hearing me?” She was staring at him unblinking in her seriousness. “He’s targeting mages – mage’s children specifically. He can mold them that way and as being born as a fae is mere chance with no genetic principle he’s targeting the ones he knows have a genetic element – witches and wizards. Our children are in danger Severus – serious danger. Here, I’m a pureblood by your standards; we’re safer here.”

Serverus was already shaking his head. He understood her words but couldn’t fully grasp the danger as he’d never lived it. What he did know was that she was more than in trouble where she stood, and he meant to help her understand – by force if necessary. “Do you know a man by the name of Blaine Kipp?” He asked tersely.

Madeline drew her head back on her neck not fully understanding how this question came to play in any of the things she’d told him. “I do. He was a student of mine. He graduated a little more than a year ago.” She remembered him well, he was a dedicated Necromancer, strong in his suit but he was lazy, a jokester. He was too busy entertaining the class than reading, yet still managed decent graded and proved to be a successful wielder of the Dark Arts. He was kind, gentle and friendly too. Madeline figured he had too soft of a hand.

“He was here, in England a month ago and exposed that Dark Lord to the art of Necromancy. I have it on good authority that the Dark Lord visited the Sophia’s, a loyal group of Death Eaters, where this Blaine Kipp was staying just to learn more of the art. I’m under the impression that he got little of the actual practice of it but now that he knows it’s practiced, actively practice, he has a taste for it, a hunger. I have no intention of handing you to him – and believe me Madeline that’s exactly what he’d ask for. You have no idea what he’s capable of and I will not let you learn.”

Madeline stood still for a moment, letting this news wash over her. “And he’s still here, teaching him the ways of Necromancy?” She asked quietly, but with no less sharpness.

“No.” He replied tartly. “That’s exactly the problem, he’s sent out many of his most loyal to seek out any that he can find. Any at all, I’ve kept you existence secret this long and I can continue to do so – only if you’re not available. You might be a pureblood but you forget that our children aren’t, by my doing. Sereth and Eileen as a significant concern of mine.”

She shook her head again. “Dunlap was murdered on the school grounds, in the school. Have you heard?” She asked. “We have a new principal. How is that any different from Dumbledore’s death? How can you possibly think its safe?”

He moved closer to her and gripped her shoulders while maintaining his stiff posture. “I never said it was safe. What I’m saying, my wife, is this – you know your monsters and I know mine. I’m no more prepared to face yours than you are mine. Go home – keep my son and my daughter safe. Keep my wife safe.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Please.”

The last memory of him, his final words to her, flooded her. They washed over her mind over and repeatedly; his final plea to abandon him in an attempt to protect herself and their children. She wondered how she’d explain to Sereth where his father was, how Eileen would grow up vacant of the man who did actually love her despite his inability to show it outwardly. Madeline knew he loved them, she knew he loved them all.

It felt as if her heart had been plunged through with a dagger and the blood from her was pouring out leaving her cold and vacant; dying. She straightened in her spot, forcing the tears down. Now was not the time for tears, they would be reserved for her own private sanctuary where she would have the luxury of indulging in the emotions of the heart fully; without the young king there. Though he meant well Dexter was hardly the person who was meant to shoulder her broken spirit. It didn’t matter that he was there and willing to do so, she would not yield to that.

There was still shock coursing through her veins. Disbelieve was present. He had been her match, her life mate, the man she gave more that all of her being to. She had given him something she didn’t even know she had – her heart and soul. “Thank you.” She said dryly. “Thank you for bringing this information to me, you may go now.” She could feel him opening his mouth to respond, his lingering presence reinforced it. “No Dex, not now. Just leave me.”

She didn’t hear him exit, but she knew he was gone. Once alone in the company of no one but herself Madeline sank into the nearest chair she could find. There she allowed the tears to come, full and hard. She cried like she never had before, she cried so painfully harsh that she wasn’t sure she’d ever recover. The pain sliced into her so abruptly and so wholly that she thought her chest might cave in.

She wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed but her eyes were sore by the time she lifted herself from the chair and moved around behind her desk. As she thought she couldn’t cry a single tear more, another bout of them sprang to her eyes and rolled relentlessly down her puffy and pink blotched cheeks.

She reached in the top drawer of her desk and extracted a fresh parchment. Dipping her quill in the nearby inkwell she began to write. It was a letter to the keeper of documents for magic society in the United States, the Wizarding Republic Government.

To Whom It May Concern:

Henceforth disregard any documentation provided by Madeline Alcott, see attached marriage license. From this day forward understand that I, Madeline Alcott, will be addressed in all official and nonofficial writing and verbal articles as Madeline Snape. These are my wishes, please see that I am registered in all files as such.

Madeline Snape

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