Mob Justice
By Lilah Montgomery
A/N:
I will put extra trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters if there are things readers should be aware of beyond the rating.
Updates will be as and when but should be reasonable. I will always ensure they are good quality when I post.
I have two incredible betas to shower in love: The brilliant and ever supportive Lady_Malfoy and the multi talented an ultra creative Over8000. Any mistakes left in are my own, they are both very thorough.
Feel free to leave comments/message me, its always very interesting getting feedback.
Trigger warnings for this chapter: Major Character Death, violence, public hanging.
Prologue
2nd May 1998
"As usual, Mister Potter, you overestimate your own importance and the sway your celebrity status offers you," Snape spat from the floor. "You are as arrogant as ever. Triumphing over the Dark Lord has seemingly done nothing for your already massive ego except inflate it still further! I am astounded your neck is able to support your head as it has grown so large. One wonders how-"
"Would you shut up?!" Harry demanded angrily, "I'm trying to save your life!"
A silence fell over the room as Ron and Hermione shifted uncomfortably in the corner waiting for Snape's reply.
The Shrieking Shack felt very large with just the four of them inside it. It creaked in the dark night and anyone's imagination could easily invent voices or footsteps coming from another room if one felt so inclined. This was not a place anyone wanted to find themselves for long.
Snape propped himself up on his elbows, blood drying in the moonlight by his neck where he had been bitten not long before.
"That's what I'm saying- you CAN'T."
Harry stepped forward with a defiant look and stared the man down.
"I'll tell them you were a double agent working with Dumbledore; that you were on our side! I'll make sure everyone finds out what you were willing to do in order to defeat Vold-"
"DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!"
Harry sighed and spun on his heel, then ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner.
"Potter…"
The three young adults fixed on Snape as he spoke, in a quiet and slow manner:
"Potter, they won't care. I killed Dumbledore, stood by the Dark Lord, was Headmaster at this school while atrocities were committed here- they WON'T care WHY I did it, just that I DID! Please leave- go and celebrate your victory and leave me alone…"
"No!" Harry shouted in anger, storming towards the man on the floor. "I won't let them near you! You have sacrificed EVERYTHING to get us to victory-"
"Not quite everything…" Snape said, "I'll give the rest soon, I'd imagine…"
Harry glanced at Hermione who held very tight grip on Ron's shirt and shook her head. Ron looked imploringly into Harry's eyes before comforting her.
The boy turned back to Snape who stared at a patch of dust on the floor, unblinking.
"You shouldn't have to go through any more," Harry said, "It isn't fair."
Snape looked up at him. For the first time in their acquaintance with each other, he looked sad and vulnerable. His arms hung limp at his sides, his hair matted with his own blood and a distant look in his wet eyes.
"I let a lot of people die in front of me to maintain cover, Harry," he answered, his voice detached and shaking, "I was a Death Eater for two years before defecting and siding against the Dark Lord as well. In that time, I did things which would earn me a lifetime in Azkaban-under different circumstances. You are attaching this ridiculous compassion to me, but you care nothing for my victims? Their families? Where is their justice? You may wish to deny them of it, but I do not. I cannot go to my…my…" he closed his eyes as his voice cracked and he took a moment to regain his composure. "I cannot go to my… grave… with so much on my conscience...Death is the penalty for my crimes…"
He ran his fingers through his hair as the three teenagers stared at him mute, their hopes of rescuing him fading.
Tears pricked in Harry's eyes and he knelt down where he stood.
"Snape," he tried once again, "come with us. Let me hide you until your name is cleared and everyone knows what you have done for them…"
Snape shook his head, then stood up and glared at Harry with a stern look they all knew so well.
"You are not listening, as usual," he snapped, "You would condemn me to a life of paranoia and hatred. You may convince a few but never will you convince them all- and where does that leave me? Looking over my shoulder whenever I leave the house? Sitting indoors while they throw bricks through my windows? I think not. There is nothing to my life but the mission, I committed to that when I switched sides all those years ago. Now that it is done, so am I!"
He spun on his heel and dragged himself to an ugly looking armchair in the corner, his cloak flapping behind him. As he sat, the shadows hid his face from view.
Harry started to argue, but the noise from outside alerted him to the fact they were no longer hidden.
Ron ran to the window and looked out before turning to the others, frantic.
"There's a crowd of witches and wizards heading towards the front of the house," he explained, "Harry- if we're going to move, we'd better do it now!"
Harry swung round to face Snape in a panic and took out his wand. Snape did not even look up.
"Come on!" Harry begged, "Please come with us!"
"Leave me," Snape ordered from his corner, "enjoy your victory and do not stay for this. Grant me at least some dignity."
"Harry, we have to stop them!" Hermione shouted over the banging downstairs.
The three of them positioned themselves in front of the door, wands out, ready to defend their ex-potions master from the mob coming up the stairs.
"Leave!" Snape commanded again.
Harry remained where he was.
"They'll kill you." Harry stated.
"If I'm lucky," came the reply.
Draco shivered in his soaking robes, breath coming in pants and panic rising in his chest. The mud under the trees of the Forbidden Forest sucked his boots in, holding him in place as his terrified eyes scanned for signs the crowd had followed him. How he had escaped, he was unsure.
He ran a shaking hand through his hair and released beads of sweat from his platinum locks.
Where are Mother and Father? He wondered, I thought they were behind me!
Draco had followed his father's orders to flee when the Dark Lord fell and the Light wizards had started rounding the Death Eaters up. All had been done in shocked silence at first, but then a few Dark Wizards had begun to struggle and the situation had escalated into violence.
Tears ran down his cheeks as he desperately assessed his options. His Mother and Father were capable of looking after themselves, but he was a student-how could he get away?
Through the forest?
He looked over his shoulder into the unforgiving deep of the woods and cowered away against a birch. No, there was no way he would run through there! Never again!
Could he make it to the Boathouse by the lake unseen? Draco risked ducking his head out from the treeline and quickly retracted it again. He could see people with torches and lit wands walking around the perimetre of the castle and he realised it was only a matter of time before they found him.
Perhaps I should give myself up, he pondered, Father has always been very resourceful in these matters, as long as I can find someone official…
He gasped with fear before removing his boots from the mud with an audible squelch and started carefully towards the school.
He neared the brow of the hill and ducked low as his night-vision spotted movement. He squatted to the ground and waited for the shapes to pass. There were two of them. One wizard had a ragged jacket and was quite tall. He had long straggly dark hair and his wand held above him. The other, Draco recognised as Professor Slughorn, the teacher who had overlooked him all year.
"Still missing the Malfoy boy, Professor," one voice said. Draco's heart skipped a beat as he heard his name and held his breath. The stranger continued: "They killed Lucius before we could get to him- thank goodness Narcissa was more cooperative…"
Slughorn gave a reply but Draco no longer paid attention. His eyes spilled heartbroken tears and he fought to control the magic simmering under his skin.
He held his mouth shut and cried in silence until the men had gone, then bolted towards to Whomping Willow.
It can't be true! It just can't! Father can't be… He channelled his magic into his wand and blasted a nearby tree, reducing it to embers, then ran as fast as he could, screaming while he did so.
He no longer cared if he was captured or what they would do to him if he was found. He couldn't think about a future without his family or being forced to live in shame and be shunned by the rest of the world. He had one thought on his mind: the violent tree would be indiscriminate to anyone stupid enough to follow him. He was probably finished, but he refused to surrender without a fight.
He ran, half tripping over his own feet to the Willow. His pyrotechnics had attracted some attention. He could hear raised voices a little way behind him and pressed on as quickly as his exhausted body would allow.
Another surge of magic, another tree reduced to cinders as he raced by, the tree coming into view.
The door broke open and angry witches and wizards poured in at such a force that the trio found themselves swept aside.
Harry was crushed against the wall and gasped for breath as people pushed past him, yelling and calling to each other.
He could not see the others and pushed back against the crowd in an attempt to get to Snape.
"Stop! Stop!" He cried, pulling at robes and hair- whatever he could reach- trying to get through.
"I'm Harry Potter! Listen to me! I'm Harry Potter!"
There was a blood-curdling scream followed by laughter and angry cries. Harry's heart jolted as he realised they had gotten to Snape and redoubled his efforts.
"Please! Stop!" He yelled at the jostling crowd.
The bulk of people shifted from the upstairs room and down the stairs again, leaving Harry with a few stragglers, including Hermione, though he could not see Ron.
Hermione ran across the room and grabbed Harry tightly, tears pouring down her face.
Harry prised her off and scanned the room, frantic.
"Snape?" He asked, knowing the answer already.
"They had him on the ground," Hermione replied breathlessly, "They were attacking him- one of them stamped on his fingers- they must be broken…" She stopped talking and wept, her whole form shook.
Ron rejoined them from downstairs, though his hollow look and sad eyes told Harry all he needed to know.
"They've got a few of them beating and cursing him," he stated flatly, "They're taking him with the other Death Eaters to the Ministry- if he makes it…"
Harry turned away from his friends and paced the room. He had seen the Potion's Master's memories and knew all Snape had done had been for love and atonement. Whatever hatred he had once held for the aloof, difficult man had melted away when his motivations had become clear.
His mind raced with information. He was still yet to return to the school and discover the fates of his dearest friends. He was sure many of them had jumped into the fight…
Remus...he realised, I hope he's ok…Hagrid...Tonks...Ron's family...
"If they're taking him to the Ministry then that's fine, we at least know where he is," Harry concluded out loud, turning to the others. "We need to go back and tell McGonagall what's happened, then help our friends and families."
Ron nodded, clearly desperate to return to the castle. Hermione looked at him before nodding in agreement.
"McGonagall is in the Order and is best placed to help him now, there's nothing more we can do…" she stated.
Minds made up, the three started towards the hidden door leading to the tunnel and Whomping Willow
Draco had almost reached the willow before he was thrown backwards by a stunning spell. The sheer force of it was enough to end him hurtling through the air and he landed on his back with a hard thump. The spell had hit his chest square on and knocked him clean off his feet and onto his back, winding him. He gasped for air and rolled onto his stomach, and came face to face with his attacker.
"Malfoy?" Weasley spat, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
Draco winced as his body lanced with pain from the curse, but pushed himself up onto his hands and knees to observe his rivals.
Initially not wishing to show weakness, he scowled angrily in reply.
Potter appeared at Weasley's shoulder and glared at him in the dark.
"Malfoy? What's going on? Are they after you too?"
Draco narrowed his eyes, but his situation got the better of his bravado and his resolve crumbled. He nodded stiffly and found himself looking up at the 'golden trio' with pleading eyes.
"Just after you left…" he explained, "a fight broke out...my father told me to flee…." His voice broke and he found himself unable to continue. He collapsed onto the ground and surrendered to sobs.
"Sweet Merlin, what's going on?" He heard Weasley exclaim.
"We can't let them get to Malfoy, Hermione, as big a git he is…" Potter spat with disdain. Draco's head shot up and he took a breath to calm himself.
"You-you'll help me?" He spluttered.
A look was exchanged between the three which Draco took as confirmation and scrambled to his feet, practically falling on Potter as he did so. The other youth held him up by his arms and wrapped him in what felt like a cloak.
"I'll get Malfoy away," he told the others as fast as he could, "you two need to get to McGonagall and tell her what's happened to Snape…"
Terror shot through Draco's body once again as he twisted in Potter's grip.
"What's happened to him?" Draco asked urgently.
Potter shushed him, then climbed under the cloak with him as well. In a way which did not seem possible, the cloak was completely transparent despite its weight and Draco found himself silenced by it. Next to him, Potter started driving forwards.
"Don't ask," The Gryffindor spat as if reading his mind. "Keep up if you want to get out of this in one piece!"
Severus was aware of the throng of people, bodies everywhere and multiple hands dragging him, hopeless, down the stairs of the shack. His broken fingers were knocked as he held his hand as close to his body as his current positioning would allow.
Rather than the sad resignation he had felt before, his mind betrayed him and his thoughts had started to race a mile a minute.
He twisted in the grip of those who held him. The crowd's yells were deafening, their closeness panic inducing.
"String him up!" He heard one person yell.
"Kick the bastard's head in!" Yelled another.
He struggled again and kicked off the floor in an attempt to get away.
Oh fuck! I'm going to die! He thought.
His breath hitched as the rough threads of a harsh, rough rope rubbed on his neck. He felt the knot being pushed down at the nape and then he was yanked cruelly backwards. He was dragged along the floor as his hands ghosted over the rope, desperately scratching at it, trying to get grip.
The mob started to cheer and bray for blood. He struggled to draw any breath as the rope now choked him.
He gasped in pain as a man's boot smashed into his stomach, followed by the sensation of the floor flying away from him as he was hoisted into the air. He realised his neck hadn't broken when he came to a halt, kicking on the end of the noose. It was over...
Dangling by his neck, his vision danced with colours and started swimming before his eyes, the life being squeezed out of him as he continued flailing and scratching at the rope.
Suddenly, he hit the floor again with an almighty crash. He tried to scream as he felt his leg snap and gasped for air as the rope was hastily removed.
He had just enough awareness left, as he lay on the floor spluttering, to look up and see his saviour.
"That's enough! We are not animals!" McGonagall shouted, holding court beside him. "All these people must face justice! We cannot stoop to their level!"
"Thank you!" He tried to splutter, but his throat hurt too badly to get any words out. She glared down at him with contempt and turned on her heel before sending red sparks into the air with her wand.
Severus pressed his face into the cobblestones and shook with adrenaline before holding himself and surrendering to tears.
Draco walked into the dark, damp kitchen at Grimmauld Place in a mixture of shock and wonder. He felt detached from his body, his mind rifting off into the events of the night as if they were a nightmare.
He caught himself on a gnarled, uncomfortable chair and sat in a trance-state, his eyes barely focused.
Potter followed him, dusting off the cape and rubbing his eyes. Draco regarded him distantly. The dark haired boy looked many things: tired, bedraggled, bloodstained, traumatised...the one thing he did not look like was 'victorious'. Though this seemed odd, as Draco turned this over slowly in his mind, because…
"The Dark Lord is dead…" he said in a voice which did not feel like his own.
Potter jerked his head up at the sound of his words and nodded.
"So is my father…" he found himself saying.
Potter's face registered confusion followed by pity as he sat down on a chair nearby.
Draco looked away and sniffed.
"You're not though," Potter stated after some time sat in uncomfortable silence.
Draco nodded, unable to speak.
"Snape isn't either, as far as I know…" Potter continued.
Draco looked at the other boy and watched as a slight hopelessness fell over him. The Slytherin stood and walked over to Harry before pulling him up into an embrace.
Instead of breaking away, the two teens clung to each other for comfort. The remained like that in the miserable, dark house, each wondering how they would ever move on with their shattered lives.