Secrets of a Slytherin Princess

As much as she wished it to be so, Fred Weasley was dead. The promise she made to Fred was in full effect; she had to watch out for George. It wasn’t as if she could break it anyway. Upon making the promise to Fred, there was an ancient magic that set in, binding Apollonia to such a promise, ensuring that she could not break it. Not that she would anyway. And, now that Fred was gone, she could feel the magic surrounding her, keeping the young Snape bound to her promise. George’s well-being rested in her hands. With Fred gone from the world, a casualty of battle, it was imperative that Apollonia keep a close eye on the remaining Weasley twin. “I know, Fred,” she whispered. “I’ll watch over him for you.”

Draco nudged her. “What are you talking about?”

“Just a promise I made,” Apollonia answered. “A promise I made only an hour ago.” It was the last conversation she ever had with Fred, and the one thing that was on her mind. Fred was the only person from the Weasley clan to have knowledge of her true identity and it cost her a favor, a favor that Fred saw fit to bind her to. He was also the only Weasley to have died so far, which annoyed Apollonia to no end; the only Weasley that might help her tell the others who she was to Harry after the war was over was gone, and she was bound to a promise that she might have trouble keeping thanks to Ronald Weasley’s antics.

“We need to get out of here, don’t we?” Draco asked.

“I think so,” she nodded.

As Harry and the others pulled Fred’s body out of the way, Apollonia and Draco slipped away, heading out to Hogsmeade to sit out the rest of the war. There eventually came a point where Apollonia and Draco were separated and Draco had a little bit of trouble with a fellow Death Eater. “I’m Draco Malfoy, I’m Draco, I’m on your side,” he reminded them.

Just as Apollonia was about to help him, an invisible force—Harry, most likely—stunned the Death Eater. Draco looked around to see who saved him and got punched by someone, eventually falling down the landing he was on and onto the Death Eater that was just stunned. “And that’s the second time we saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!” she heard an angry Ron yell.

Apollonia picked Draco up and the two headed down to Hogsmeade, the only safe place the Draco could think of at the moment. Five minutes went by before Apollonia and Draco arrived in Hogsmeade and started looking for the best place for her to go into hiding. However, as soon as she spotted the scene through the window of the Shrieking Shack, she refused to leave. “Apolla, we have to go,” Draco reminded her. “You need to hide, now!”

“No!” Apollonia hissed. “I’m not going anywhere.” At Draco’s confused look, the Head Girl elaborated. “Dad’s is there. He’s talking to your master. I want to find out why.” She had to find out why, to understand what was going on here. So, she leaned in to listen to the conversation.

“…my Lord, their resistance is crumbling —”

“— and it is doing so without your help,” Voldemort noted. “Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there…almost.”

“Let me find the boy,” the former professor begged. Apollonia could see a faint flicker of pain in his eyes. “Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please.”

“I have a problem, Severus,” Voldemort said softly.

“My Lord?” her father asked.

Voldemort held a wand in his hand, one that was very different from what should have been his wand; Apollonia heard a description of Voldemort’s wand and this was not it. “Why does it not work for me?”

“My — my Lord?” her father asked in confusion. It seemed as if he was as clueless as Apollonia was. “I do not understand. You — you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.”

“No,” the monster said, “I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand…no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the wand I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.” Is it supposed to? Apollonia wondered. “No difference,” he said again, looking at her father. “I have thought long and hard, Severus….Do you know why I called you back from battle?” It better not be for the reasons I think, the Slytherin thought. She had a bad feeling that she knew why all of this was really happening, why Voldemort would have sent for her father.

“No, my Lord,” her father answered, “but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter.” Yeah, do that, Apollonia prayed. Let my father go find Harry. Just forget this. There had never been an instance in which Apollonia was able to see her father being interrogated; he wanted her to stay out of the war. And now she could see why. Voldemort was creepy, beyond all reason. And, if Harry were to lose…Heaven forbid, it would destroy her. She would be forced to become a Death Eater if Voldemort were to overcome Harry.

“You sound like Lucius,” the monster replied patronizingly. “Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others around him struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come.”

“But, my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself —”

“My instructions to the Death Eaters have been perfectly clear,” Voldemort reminded him. “Capture Potter. Kill his friends — the more the better — but do not kill him. But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable.”

“My Lord knows I only seek to serve him. But — let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can —” Dad, what the hell are you thinking? the younger Snape thought. You’re contradicting yourself; helping Harry one minute, ready and willing to hand Harry over to him. You can’t do that. You can’t hand my brother over to that monster, not when I haven’t even gotten the chance to tell him who I really am. Don’t turn Harry over to the monster you handed my mother over to. I couldn’t bear it.

“I told you, no!” Voldemort roared. His voice soon leveled to a more reasonable tone and looked at Apollonia’s father. “My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy.”

“My Lord, there can be no question, surely —”

“—but there is a question, Severus. There is.” The snake-like man stared at her father. “Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?” They have? Apollonia questioned. Good.

“I — I cannot answer that, my Lord.”

“Can’t you?” he asked. “My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another’s wand. I did so, but Lucius’s wand shattered upon meeting Potter’s.”

“I — I have no explanation, my Lord.”

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave from Albus Dumbledore.”

That’s what he was doing, Apollonia realized.

“My Lord — let me go to the boy —”

“All this night long, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here,” Voldemort said in a whisper, so faintly that Apollonia almost didn’t hear what was said. “wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for is rightful owner…and I think I have the answer.” Both Snapes stared at Voldemort. “Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.”

No! Apollonia yelled in her mind. No!

“My Lord —”

“The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine,” Voldemort explained.

“My Lord!” her father protested.

“It cannot be any other way,” the monster who intended on killing her father stated softly. “I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at least.”

As Apollonia was silently screaming, praying that this would not happen, she watched as her father’s master swiped the Elder Wand across his body, seemingly attacking his servant. It did nothing, which Apollonia was thankful for, until she saw a snake cage come forward. Voldemort spoke only one word, in a language that she could not understand; however, the intent was clear: kill.

It was not long before the snake’s fangs pierced her father’s neck and a terrible scream could be heard, that scream belonging to her father. Apollonia did not hear what Voldemort said after that, just as he was leaving; Apollonia didn’t care, for he killed her father. I’ll never join him now. To join him would be to dishonor Dad’s memory. I’ll never do that.

Apollonia continued to watch the scene before her and soon saw Harry appear in the room. He had been watching the whole thing, knew exactly what happened, though she doubted he’d care. “Take…it…Take…it….” her father was saying to Harry as a silvery blue liquid emerged from his body. Memories, she realized. Dad, what are you doing? Harry took the memories, emptied into a flask and was about to leave when he called out again. “Look…at…me…” Mum’s eyes; my eyes; Harry’s eyes, she wondered. Maybe.

And, as Harry disappeared from view—she didn’t figure out how, nor did she care at the moment—Apollonia was forced to watch as her father took his last breath, leaving her like her brother.