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You stood in the dimly lit office, your voice echoing off the walls as you plead your case to Albus Dumbledore. Frustration boiled inside you as you tried to make him understand the gravity of the situation. The heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor were present, their expressions a mix of concern and skepticism.
"I'm not lying, Albus!" you exclaimed, the urgency evident in your voice. You couldn't fathom why no one seemed to believe you. The impending return of the Dark Lord was a real threat, and you felt it in your bones. But to everyone else, it seemed like an impossible notion.
As the conversation unfolded, you felt the weight of their doubt pressing down on you. "They are not just dreams," you insisted, your frustration reaching a boiling point. "It's a warning, and I'm trying to tell you to take them seriously before it's too late!"
Silence hung heavy in the air as your words echoed in the office. You looked to the heads of houses, desperation in your eyes. "Severus believes me! Why don't you?" The room fell quiet as Albus and Minerva exchanged glances, and even Severus seemed caught off guard by the sudden attention.
"Is this true, Severus? You believe her?" Albus inquired, breaking the uneasy silence as all eyes turned to the potions master, awaiting his response.
Snape hesitated for a moment before replying coolly, "It would be unwise to jump to conclusions based solely on dreams, especially when the stakes are so high." You gaped at him from where you stood, he told you just last night that he believed you. “Are you fucking joking?” you chuckled at him in disbelief. He couldn't even look you in the eye. You weren't going to stand here and be treated like a child anymore. “Alright well, don't say I didn't tell you so when the time comes,” you sneered before you stomped off to your room.
As you finally reached your room, you slid down the door, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness. The tears welled up, and you couldn't stop them from flowing. How could you save anyone if no one would listen to you?
It was a few nights later when you heard a knock at your door. Three loud bangs echoed through your room, so resounding they woke you up. Before you even had the chance to get out of bed, Severus came rushing past the threshold of your room. You rolled your eyes and layed back down, you had no desire to speak to him.
He lapsed into silence for a few minutes, during which you sensed his gaze slowly moving over your veiled figure. "Y/N, I..." he began, but you swiftly interjected, "I don't want to hear it." His audible sigh resonated from behind you, accompanied by the rustling of the couch. Shifting in your bed, you peered at him to find him perched there, fixated on the now extinguished fire. "I never gave you permission to stay," you retorted sharply.
He rose from his seat and approached your bedside, his posture indicating that he was struggling to articulate his thoughts. In the days following the meeting, you had purposefully kept your distance from him, grappling with the question of why he didn't seem to support you. "Please, allow me to mend things between us before the semester begins."
You expressed your frustration as you tossed and turned in your sheets, "You said you believed me, but why did you tell the others something different? They would take your word over mine." He replied softly, "I apologize, I just don't think we should make assertions about something so serious based solely on dreams." Growing more frustrated, you continued, "Then why didn't you mention that the night before? Why the sudden change?" His lack of response conveyed more than words ever could. "You know what? It's fine. You're probably right anyway, just dreams. Now, can I please go back to sleep?" Annoyed, he huffed and began to leave the room, but you stopped him, saying, "You can sleep here, just don't touch my feet."
Next to you, he was peacefully asleep, but you couldn't find any rest. The notion that these dreams were more than just dreams lingered in your mind. Despite wishing you weren't so forgiving, you found it difficult to feel any other way - after all, it was Severus. He had been your unwavering support since the beginning, guiding you through every challenge from the very start, even though you were a bit younger than him.
When you finally got to sleep, you dreamt of nothing. No more nightmares, it was like you had taken a dreamless sleep potion.
…
“Now we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement,” Dumbledore said from his podium. You were seated next to Minerva, and Severus was standing behind her chair. “This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well,” as he said this, the heavy door to the Great Hall opened and Mr. Filch came parading down the center. “You see, Hogwarts has been chosen,” he paused as Filch came and muttered in his ear. A few seconds passed and Filch started back down the hall again and Dumbledore continued.
“So, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event, The Triwizard Tournament.” The students began talking amongst themselves as Dumbledore explained what the Triwizard Tournament was.
You had a terrible feeling about all of this. You just somehow knew this would end well for anyone. But you couldn't voice your concern to anyone, you'd just get shut down. So you just sat quietly as you watched over the flock of students. You felt someone grab a hold of your hand that was settled under the table, and judging by the black fabric covering it, you knew who it was. You didn't look up at him, only smiled softly and kept your gaze on the tables. “For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress Madame Maxime!”
…
You expressed your concern to Severus as you collapsed onto the couch. The Triwizard Cup was set to determine the champions the next day, and you were overwhelmed with anxiety. It felt like there was a gaping hole in your stomach. "I'm telling you, Severus, I don't think this is a good idea," you exclaimed. He didn't lift his gaze from his book and replied, "I'm sure it'll be fine." you let out a groan and ran your hands down your face, stating, "if it's not, I'm blaming you." A faint smile appeared on his lips as he responded, "If anything happens, feel free to place the blame on me. At the end of the year, you'll see who's correct." you jokingly kicked his foot and chuckled. After taking a deep breath, you tried to relax and reassure yourself that everything would turn out fine.
Except it wasn't. The next day, Harry potter got chosen to be a champion. Of course he did, that boy can't catch a damn break. He eased through the first task, using his brain to summon his broom and survive. You didn't know what happened down in the lake for the second task, you were just staring at the water for an hour. But you did know he almost didn't make it back.
You hadn't planned to stick around for the third task, not wanting to stare at a maze for an hour. So when you and Severus reached the pitch where the maze was, you told him to tell you the winner when he got back. He nodded and his hand lingered on your for a quick second before he turned away into the pitch.
You had planned to take a walk around the area, and then head back to the castle. But, around thirty minutes into walking through the trees, someone's hand came over your mouth, and pulled you back against them. “Don't make a noise,” they whispered into your ear. You nodded against them as you swallowed the bile in your throat, you felt them take your wand out of your pocket and throw it to the side. They then apparated you somewhere.
You coughed as he released his grip and you stumbled, landing on the soft grass beneath you. Looking around, you realized that you were in a dimly lit graveyard, surrounded by towering tombstones. Your captor was nowhere to be seen, but in the distance, you spotted two figures standing next to a massive tombstone. As you approached quietly, staying out of sight, you recognized them as Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, holding the Triwizard Cup. Confused and cautious, you concealed yourself, unsure if this was all part of the task and not wanting to interfere. But why would you be here? And why would someone take you here?
Ducking and weaving through the shadows of the gravestones, you strained to hear the muffled voices of Harry and Cedric but couldn't make out their conversation. Suddenly, a chilling, grave voice pierced through the night, uttering the words, "Kill the spare," followed by a blinding flash of green light that sent Cedric's body hurtling backwards. Shocked and horrified, tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at the boys body.
You then saw a man walk into the area, he was holding what looked like a baby. The man then pushed Harry up against the massive grave stone, which moved in place to hold him. “Do it now,” the voice said. And you watched in horror as your suspicions were right. The Dark Lord was rising again. You knew you were not losing your mind, and now everyone who didn't listen to your warnings would be proven wrong. And it would be bad.
As Voldemort stood there, time seemed to slow down, casting eerie shadows over his sickly pale body. He beckoned a group of his followers, and you quietly observed from the darkness. Although you couldn't hear their conversation at first, as you edged closer, you caught Voldemort asking one of the men, "Where is the girl?" The question gave you pause. Could he be referring to you? And if so, why would he be seeking you out? The man nervously responded, "I brought her as you asked, my lord. It appears she ran off." Voldemort's chilling chuckle cut through the night air. "Ran off? You were supposed to keep an eye on her. Crucio!" The man collapsed in agony, his screams echoing through the desolate surroundings. Horrified, you gasped and instinctively stepped back, causing a nearby gravestone's branch to come crashing down.
The man stopped screaming, he was just breathing now. The Dark Lord whipped his head around to where you were hiding, and you saw a sick smile span across his face. “Come out dear,” he said calmly. The calmness in his voice is what scared you the most. You slowly stood up and weaved through the gravestones, and you came face to face with the wizard who scared you the most. He smiled even wider when you saw you. “There you are! I was beginning to worry you weren't coming." All you could do was stand there with silent tears rolling down your dirty face.
You stood in the middle of the small crowd, while Voldemort circled you, analyzing you. You flinched when he spoke. “I must admit it was rather fun toying with your mind, giving you those dreams.” Your eyes widened as you realized why you were here. He brought you here to make your nightmare true, he brought you here to kill you. You trembled when his thin, pale finger softly stroked your cheek. “It's alright my dear, it will all be over soon.” A flash of green light erupted from his wand, the last thing you saw before it all went black.
The pitch erupted into cheers as the two champions made it back, but what they didn't seem to notice was there was a third person with them. Fleur Delacour screamed out in horror once she realized what happened. Two people had died. One of them wasn't even in the tournament. No one recognized the third person, as she had been lying on her stomach. But Severus knew, as soon as they rolled back into the pitch he knew. And he felt sick to his stomach.
You were right. And he belittled your concerns. He knew, he knew and he didn't protect you.
He immediately left the pitch. And as soon as he got out, he sobbed. He wasn't a man that cried, but he had loved you. He had planned to tell you, or you tell him, but he kept putting it off. The last time he loved someone they ended up dead. And history repeated itself.
…
He attended your funeral. He stayed for as long as he could surrounded by photos of your smiling face, which he would never see again. He was furious, furious that he knew you were correct about the return of the Dark Lord, but Dumbledore had made him keep his mouth shut, knowing you would tell everyone if you knew you were right.
He spent restless nights throughout the years, apologizing to the air in his room, hoping you were there and could hear him. He hoped you had seen what happened, and why he couldn't tell you that you were right.
And when Voldemort finally fell, he went to your grave and told you all about it. He wished that he had died instead of you, but now he would live in your name.