Secrets of a Slytherin Princess

At the sight of her father’s last breath, Apollonia collapsed. She barely held her own weight. The only reason she hadn’t fallen to the ground was because Draco had a tight grip around her. There was a constant stream of tears falling from her eyes. Even though she knew this was coming, knew that her father would eventually die, it still hurt beyond all reason. The only family she had left was Harry, and he hated her for what happened to Dumbledore. “Let it out, Apolla,” Draco soothed. “It’ll hurt less if you just let out all your frustration.”

“You don’t get it, Draco,” Apollonia insisted.

“And how is that?” he wondered.

Telling Draco simply wasn’t an option. She promised herself that Harry would be the first person she told about them being half-siblings. Even though the war was almost over—and Fred figured it out on his own—Apollonia was not about to tell Draco before Harry. Besides, Draco would throw a hissy fit about her connection to his nemesis. No, I won’t do it. I won’t tell Draco first. Harry needs to find out first. Harry was the only family Apollonia had left, unless she counted Dudley. But, at the moment, she wasn’t. And, she needed to tell Harry before anyone else. “I can’t tell you yet, Draco. Not quite yet.”

Right now, she needed to go find Harry; she needed to tell him that they were siblings. For the past two years, Apollonia was insistent that Harry not be told until after Voldemort was destroyed. Now that her father was gone, now that Harry was the only family she had left, Apollonia didn’t have that option. Telling him, making him understand was the only thing that she could do. “You wouldn’t understand, Draco. I just lost my father and there’s a chance that I could lose…” Apollonia cut herself off before revealing the truth to Draco.

“Just say it,” Draco told her. “I already know anyway.”

“What?” Apollonia all but screamed.

“I know what you’re talking about,” he repeated.

“What? How?” There was no way that Draco should ever know the truth. Since first learning of her own identity, it had become apparent to the young Snape that if Draco ever became aware of such a thing, he’d shun her. He hated Harry more than anyone. Telling Draco was something that Apollonia dreaded, for she dreaded his reaction.

Draco spun Apollonia around to face him. “It’s a long and complicated story, Apolla. Since first hearing you mention your brother, I wanted to know what you were talking about, how you could have a relative that I knew nothing about. You know I tried to obtain access to the recesses of your mind; I tried right around you, only to meet with your lightning storm.” Apollonia grinned at that; that barrier proved to be most effective. “Remember what happened the first day of school, the Crucio Amycus gave you during the brief period that I neglected to activate?” Apollonia nodded. “When you fell unconscious, it weakened the barrier; the lightning storm still stood, but it was weak enough for me to bypass. That’s how I figured it out; that’s how I know your biggest secret, the one that you’ve been hiding from the world. And, it’s also when I activated the charm in the necklace,” he tapped it gently, “so you could keep the secret from the Carrows.”

Apollonia stared at him blankly. He knew? He knew for the past year and never said anything. Even worse, Draco had knowledge of her true identity and still protected her. What the hell was going on, that Draco would do something like that? “You knew! You knew and still protected me!”

“I have my reasons,” Draco replied.

“What are those reasons?” she asked.

“I’d rather not say,” he insisted.

“No!” Apollonia yelled. “You. Are. Going. To. Tell. Me.” Apollonia had spent years listening to the people around her lie. No more. She refused to stand for it. Never again. There a jumble of words coming out of Draco’s mouth; however, she couldn’t hear it. “Louder, Draco!”

“Iminlovewithyou,” he rushed out.

“Slower,” she prodded.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated.

Apollonia stared at Draco. That was the one thing that the Head Girl had not expected. But, it did seem to explain a few things, particularly why he was so protective of her during the last year. “For how long?” she asked, wanting to know, wanting to understand.

“Since the Yule Ball in fourth year,” he answered.

Once again, Apollonia merely stared at Draco. Three and a half years. Forty months. Was that really how long that Draco had been in love with her? Did she really not notice that her best friend was in love with her? She could understand the past two years, as she was concerned about Harry at the time; but, what about the year and a half prior to that? How did she never realize it? “Why didn’t you ever say anything? Or tell me that you knew?”

“I was kind of dealing with an insane Pansy at the time,” Draco reminded her. “Going to the Yule Ball with Pansy caused that obsession to surface and I had trouble shaking her. When I finally did, the Dark Lord wanted to recruit you to the Death Eaters. I couldn’t let that happen to you, so I offered to take your place and redeem the Malfoy name. Apolla, I did everything I could to protect you, especially after your biggest secret came to light. And that means that that you need to — Argh!” Before Draco could finish what he was saying, he hunched over, clutching his left arm, the arm with the dark mark seared into his flesh.

Apollonia knelt down to look at Draco. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m being called…to the forest,” he wheezed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“Your brother!” he hissed.

Gemstone-colored eyes widened. “I’m coming with.”

“Apolla, no!” Draco yelled.

“No,” Apollonia argued. “I’m going with you.”

“And, if he sees you?” her friend asked.

“I’m going,” Apollonia reaffirmed. She needed to be there when Harry destroyed Voldemort. And she was quite sure that it would all end tonight; Harry was going to kill the monster that had her father killed. It was something that she had to see. She glared at Draco. “And just so you know, you’re not about to change my mind. He means more to me than anything, especially now that Dad is gone. In a way, it can’t even compare to you because he’s family.”

Draco huffed. “Fine. But, stay disillusioned.”

Apollonia nodded and cast the spell. She disappeared from view and began following Draco, disillusioned himself, to the forest. When they arrived at the forest, Apollonia hung back, watching the scene before her play out, as she had been doing all night. Anything that was said went in one ear and out the other, at least until Harry came walking into the forest. A short exchange ensued between him and Voldemort before the unthinkable happened; a green jet of light hit her brother and he fell, a glassy look in his emerald green eyes.

The Slytherin wanted to scream; she wanted to destroy Voldemort for what he had done. One green jet of light and the last of her family was gone. Voldemort had won. Draco, however, looked back and shot her a dark look. It was a warning, a warning to keep her mouth shut. “I know,” she hissed. “But, he’s gone. My brother is no more. I’ve lost him.”

“Do you want him to know about that?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered.

“Then shut up,” he reminded her.

“But, it’s…”

“Yes, I know that,” Draco said. “But, no one else does. Everyone standing in this forest has no idea that you have a connection to Potter. And, I’d prefer to keep it that way, especially given the fact that the Dark Lord wants for you become a Death Eater. The only reason you aren’t right now is because Severus and I have kept that from happening. It’s why you have to stay hidden, to keep him from discovering that I haven’t convinced you to join him.”

“I’m aware of that,” she replied.

Just then, Voldemort called out, pointing to Narcissa. “You!” He pointed a long bony finger towards where Harry lay on the ground. “Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead.”

Draco and Apollonia watch as his mother knelt down over Harry’s body. She stood over him for a few minutes before standing up and turning towards Voldemort. “He is dead.”

“Castle, now!” Draco hissed.

“Why?” Apollonia asked.

“That’s where they’re going to go,” he warned her. “The Dark Lord wants to proclaim his victory. Now, get up to the castle. I’m going to get your father and take him to the Great Hall.”

“But,” she objected.

“No! Now, go!” he hissed.

Apollonia could not feel Draco’s presence at her side after that. She quietly made her way up to the castle, up to the Great Hall. It was ahead of Voldemort and his minions, so she had a little breathing room. And that breathing room was necessary, for the sight of the Great Hall freaked her out. The house tables were cleared and the room was littered with bodies, three of which caught her attention: Fred, Remus, and Dora. “No,” she whispered. The sight of both Remus and Dora meant that she needed to take care of Teddy herself; Harry was gone, the boy’s godfather killed by a monster. Apollonia would have to take care of the boy herself, something she never wanted to do in the first place. Remus and Dora were supposed to be alive; they were supposed to give Teddy a life, not die.

Voldemort, his Death Eaters, and Hagrid—carrying Harry’s body—soon came; they were at the front of the castle, shouting wildly that they won. Apollonia refused to listen to what was being said. Instead, she remained in the Great Hall, ignoring what was said. There was a part of her in a catatonic state; the people she cared the most about were gone: her father and Harry especially. Draco was still around, but how long could that last?

Several voice began streaming out of the Great Hall, the most notable of the two being Ron and Neville. The fight continued and Apollonia could see the jets of different colored light flying around. As Apollonia watched, most everyone was fighting; though, there were a few exceptions. Lucius and Narcissa were busy looking for Draco, whom had gone to get her father. A dark shadow appeared at her side and Apollonia turned around; Draco was searching for her, trying to figure out if she was okay. Apollonia briefly dropped the disillusionment. “I’m fine, Draco. I’m not fighting. I only plan on fighting if I need to.”

“It better stay that way,” he insisted.

“Oh, you better go find your parents,” Apollonia suggested.

“Yeah, I’ll go do that,” he muttered.

Even if Apollonia could not spend time with family as the battle was drawing to a conclusion, at least Draco could. Apollonia lost the last of her family tonight; both her father and brother. She hadn’t even told Harry yet. Hermione; Tonks; Dobby; Slughorn; Fred; Draco; they knew that she was Harry’s twin sister, but not Harry himself. She waited too long and now he was gone. Allowing the disillusionment to reemerge, Apollonia carefully went out to the battlefield. In examining the battlefield, maneuvering between the duels, Apollonia realized that her brother’s body was not there. She soon came upon Luna and Ginny battling Bellatrix; Bellatrix was about to kill Ginny when Molly stepped in; it was yet another family moment that Apollonia could not have, or so she thought until…

…her brother appeared out of nowhere. “Protego!”

“Harry!” everyone yelled.

“HE’S ALIVE!” Apollonia yelled out gleefully. The sight of her brother alive cheered her immensely. Narcissa lied! Harry was alive and ready to kill Voldemort once and for all.

Before anyone could go over to help him—Apollonia included—Harry stopped them all. “I don’t want anyone else to try to help,” he said rather loudly. “It’s got to be like this. It’s got to be me.”

Voldemort soon stepped in. “Potter doesn’t mean that,” he argued, red eyes glinting with malice. “That isn’t how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?”

Apollonia wanted to destroy Voldemort for saying that Harry was a coward; however, it was her brother’s order that stopped the young Slytherin from doing anything of the sort. “Nobody,” Harry replied. “There are no more Horcruxes. It’s just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…” What? Apollonia thought. I never heard that. Maybe it was a part of the prophecy she never heard.

“One of us!” Voldemort yelled as he glared at Harry. “You think that it will be you, don’t you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?”

“Accidents, was it, when my mother died to save me?” Harry asked snidely. Our mother, Apollonia corrected silently. “Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn’t defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?”

“Accidents!” Voldemort screamed. “Accidents and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!”

“You won’t be killing anyone else tonight,” Harry said. “You won’t be able to kill any of them ever again. Don’t you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people —”

“But, you did not!”

“— I meant to, and that’s what did it. I’ve done what my mother did.” And that’s why it looked like you died, Apollonia realized, finally understanding what Harry had done. She protected everyone. “They’re protected from you. Haven’t you noticed that none of the spells you put on them are binding” Genius, Harry! Pure genius! Using Mum’s love as the key to destroy him. And, she remembered what Mum’s portrait said; she needed to tell Harry who she was to help protect him from what was going on. However, even if she was protected from anything that Voldemort might do, Apollonia did not stay anything. She merely stood there, disillusioned, watching her brother’s final confrontation with Voldemort, the battle that would end everything; the war, the battle for his life, everything. “You can’t torture them. You can’t touch them. You don’t learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?”

“You dare —”

“Yes, I dare,” Harry said. “I know things you don’t Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don’t. Want to hear some before you make another big mistake?”

“Is it love again?” Voldemort sneered. “Dumbledore’s favorite subject, love, which he claimed conquered death, though it did not stop him from falling from the tower like an old waxwork? Love, which did not stop me from stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter —” How dare you, Apollonia thought, speak of Mum that way! “— and no one seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse.” I would, if I didn’t have to protect the one family that Harry has left. After all, I’m the only one that can tell him where the Dursleys are. If he loses me, he loses them as well. If not for that, then yes I would help him. “So, what will stop you from dying now when I strike?”

“Just one thing,” Harry replied.

“If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine.”

“I believe both,” Harry told him.

While Harry remained calm and collected, Voldemort flew into a flurry of rage at the accusation Harry was making. “You think you know more magic than I do?” he asked. “Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?”

But, Harry was not about to back down, a thought that made Apollonia proud of her brother. “Oh, he dreamed of it,” Harry argued, “but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you’ve done.”

“You mean he was weak!” the monster called Voldemort yelled at an abnormally loud volume. “Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!”

“No, he was cleverer than you. A better wizard, a better man.”

“I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!”

“You thought you did,” Harry said. “But, you were wrong.”

“Dumbledore is dead!” Voldemort screamed, as if screaming would make Harry believe what was said. “His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!”

“Yes, Dumbledore’s dead,” Harry conceded, “but you didn’t have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant.”

Dad, Apollonia knew.

“What childish dream is this?” Voldemort asked.

“Severus Snape wasn’t yours,” Harry informed the man he was meant to kill. “Snape was Dumbledore’s, Dumbledore’s from the moment you started hunting down my mother. His allegiance belonged to his daughter.” Harry glanced around the room, almost as if he was looking for someone. Under the disillusion, Apollonia was hidden, and wasn’t sure it was her. He mentioned her. Was it possible that Harry knew her secret, the secret she had concealed from him from the past two years? She really didn’t know. “And you never saw it, because of the thing you can’t understand. You never saw Snape cast a patronus, did you, Riddle?”

There it was, the possibility that Harry knew who she was. Apollonia was around when the doe led them to the Sword of Gryffindor. In mentioning both their mother and Apollonia, there was a chance that he knew, a chance that Harry was aware of the truth. “Snape’s patronus was a doe,” Harry elaborated, “the same as my mother’s, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time they were children. You should have realized,” Harry glared at Voldemort, “he asked you to spare her life, didn’t he?” For me, she remembered.

“He desired her, that was all,” Voldemort sneered. Apollonia scoffed. If that were true, she wouldn’t exist. “But, when she was gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of pure blood, worthier of him —”

“Of course he told you that,” Harry muttered. “But, he was Dumbledore’s spy from the moment you threatened her, and he’s been working against you ever since. Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him.” And, finally! She was vindicated! Perhaps, Harry would no longer blame Apollonia for what happened. It would work out for the best, since she and Harry had to raise Teddy now. And, he might accept her better when she told him that she was his sister; not rebuke her as she might expect.

“It matters not!” Voldemort shrieked. “It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore’s, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path. I crushed them all as I crushed your mother, Snape’s supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!” He grinned maliciously and looked at Harry. “Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But, I got ahead of you, little boy — I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it. I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape more than three hours ago —” Three hours? Has it really been that long? Apollonia wondered. Maybe it had; she didn’t know. “—and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore’s last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!”

“Yeah, it did,” Harry admitted. “You’re right. But, before you try to kill me, I’d advise you to think about what you’ve done….Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle….”

“What is this?”

“It’s your one last chance,” Harry explained to his arch-enemy. “It’s all you’ve got left….I’ve seen what you’ll be otherwise….Be a man…try…Try for some remorse…”

“You dare —” Voldemort tried again.

“Yes, I dare,” Harry repeated. “Because Dumbledore last plan hasn’t backfired on me at all. It’s backfired on you, Riddle.” Voldemort’s hand was shaking while Harry’s remained tightly gripped on Draco’s wand. Apollonia could tell that her brother was preparing to end this. “That wand still isn’t working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person.” So, Dad died for nothing? Apollonia asked. She would have to find out a little later, once Harry rid the world of her father’s killer: Voldemort. “Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.”

“He killed —”

“Aren’t you listening? Snape never defeated Dumbledore! Dumbledore’s death was planned between them. Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand’s last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand’s power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!”

“But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master’s tomb! I removed it against its last master’s wishes! Its power is mine!”

“You still don’t get it, do you, Riddle?” Harry asked. “Possessing the wand isn’t enough! Holding it, using it, doesn’t make it truly yours. Didn’t you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard…The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world’s most dangerous wand had given him it allegiance…” There was slight pause as Harry looked around, his eyes catching sight of something and returning his gaze to Voldemort to inform him of what was going on. “The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.”

Apollonia looked between her brother and Draco. He was the master of the Elder Wand after Dumbledore? Then, Apollonia caught sight of Draco’s hawthorn wand in Harry’s hand and understood what was going on. Harry disarmed Draco months ago—the reason he was now using his mother’s wand—and the power of the Elder Wand transferred to him: to the boy-who-lived. This whole thing was just a very elaborate explanation to say that Harry had custody of the wand Voldemort coveted the power of so much. Harry had the power to destroy this tyrannical monster, to bring peace to the Wizarding World.

“But, what does it matter?” Voldemort asked softly, almost mockingly. “Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone…and after I have killed you, I will attend to Draco Malfoy…”

“But, you’re too late,” Harry gloated. “You’ve missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him.” Harry twisted Draco’s wand between his fingers and smiled gratefully. “So, it all comes down to this, doesn’t it? Does the wand in your hand know that its last master was Disarmed? Because, if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand.”

In that moment, a glow surrounded both Harry and Voldemort. There was an exchange of power, of sorts, allowing Harry to become the master of the Elder Wand. In the moments following that two spells were cast; the Killing Curse from Voldemort, the Disarming from Harry. It triggered a blast and the Elder Wand flung into the air, as if trying to decide who to kill: the one who held the wand and cast its spell, or its master. In the end, Voldemort was chosen and everything was over, just as the sun rose to shine its light on Hogwarts.

Harry disappeared shortly after that. And, there was a part of Apollonia that understood why. No one in the castle had slept in thirty-six hours, and if they had, it wasn’t for long. Apollonia herself fell asleep after what happened, fell asleep right near her father’s body. When the Slytherin awoke, it was early afternoon and she was leaned up against the wall. Getting up, Apollonia immediately went to go find Harry; she had to explain everything that happened, and the one thing that was concealed from him for almost eighteen years. On her way by, she passed the Weasleys and Hermione surrounding Fred’s body. It reminded Apollonia of her promise, a promise she had every intention of keeping. For right now, however, it was imperative that she find Harry and tell him the truth.

Hermione stopped her as she passed. “Are you going to tell him?”

The Slytherin nodded. “I have no choice. He needs to know.”

“True,” Hermione agreed. “He’s out burying the Elder Wand.”

A quick thanks later and Apollonia was on her way out to Dumbledore’s tomb where a dirt-covered Harry was digging. The young Snape chuckled at the sight of him and he looked up. “What are you doing here? I thought I told Ron and Hermione to keep people from coming after me?” he muttered.

“Look, Harry, I’m not here to thank you for what you might. It needed to be done. Everyone knows that. No, I’m here for something completely different, something I confided in Hermione about. That’s why she let me come here, because I need to talk to you.”

“Me? Why?” Harry asked.

Well, at least he’s not turning me away, Apollonia thought. She really did expect that he would, simply because he spent months listening to Ron. Maybe there really is a chance that Harry and I can get along after what happened. Two pairs of emerald eyes met as Apollonia felt down, resting her knees on the unturned grass. “Harry, for as long as I can remember, there was never an instance in which Dad told me about my mother. He did everything, but that. It was that first Occulemency lesson of our sixth year in which I was finally able to discover the truth. I told you of my success in breaking into Dad’s head, but I never told you of the memory I saw, mainly because I couldn’t. I refused to do it until Voldemort was gone. And well, now that he is, I have to tell you this secret.”

Harry regarded her carefully. “What did you see?”

Apollonia bit her lip and told Harry of the memory. “I saw two emerald-eyed babies, one being handed off to Dad, the other staying with the mother. One was you, the other was me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Harry, I’m your sister.”