Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did. It's number 22 on my list of things to do when I take over the world. But until that time comes, they aren't mine.

Note: Any bold in the following text is a direct quote from Rowling's 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.'

His Greatest Champion or, The Redemption of Severus Snape

"Well—I jus' heard Snape sayin' Dumbledore took too much for granted an' maybe he—Snape—didn' wan' ter do it any more…anyway, Dumbledore told him flat out he'd agreed ter do it an' that was all there was to it."

–Hagrid to Harry, 'HBP' p.380

"Really, Severus, isn't this a bit cliché?" The wizened figure emereged from the shadows with a slightly sardonic grin gracing his withered lips. "It would not have been the least bit suspicious for you to meet me in my nice, warm office, you know. Or even for me to meet you in your own damp, dingy office, for that matter. This dreadful weather has not been kind to my old bones, and they resent any unnecessary rushing about."

"With all due respect, sir, even your redoubtable walls may have ears."

The robed figure gestured around the darkening clearing, a twinkle in his eye. "And an entire forest does not? Such innocence is touching, Severus, but unwise. We must always assume that everything we say…everything we do…is monitered, and act accordingly. Even in our very minds. You of all people should know this."

The sallow man looked, if possible, sourer than ever, but held his tongue. The other continued on blithely, as if the ominous words he had uttered previously had been no more than a discussion about the afternoon tea. "But enough of this. Tell me, what cause have you for these dramatics? It is unlike you to request an audience. Surely, you have encountered no problems…"

At this, Severus gave a short, humourless laugh. "No, of course not, sir. Your little players are all doing their parts, all running in the paths you've set them on." His lip curled slightly into his famous sneer at the thought of one player in particular. "Everything is proceeding as you ordained."

It was disheartening, really, how quickly everything had snapped into place. All of these people, all reasonably intelligent, so easily marshalled into following this one 'predestined' fate. But of course, the man before him had been pulling these strings together long before many of the current players were born, preparing the world for the last, final days of this conflict.

Severus knew he himself had once been a puppet of this man…but that was not quite true any longer. Perhaps an 'actor' might be a better word now. This ancient mage before him no longer dictated his life nor had he robbed him of his free will. He had merely provided the script from which Severus Snape chose now to read.

The old wizard cleared his throat, and Snape shook himself out of his musing. The little old man stood in front of him, an amused expression on his face and one eyebrow raised. "Well?"

"It was…nothing, sir. I merely wished to confirm that your plan is proceeding smoothly."

"Indeed? It seems a strange Nothing, Severus, to roust a tired old man from his study in this ungodly weather."

Snape remained silent. The note had been sent in haste at a moment of personal weakness. Now, half an hour later, he too wondered what had possessed him to act in such an unusual manner, and he certainly was not about to express this doubt to Dumbledore.

The Headmaster eyed his Dark Arts Master shrewedly. "Having second thoughts?" The once-jovial voice was betrayed by a will of steel. "The time for second guessing ourselves is long past, Severus. It passed us by the moment you gave your oath to Narcissa. We cannot restrain destiny any longer…if we are to prepare the boy for what he must do, then we must see this act through together."

In the forest, a twig snapped, and both men whipped around, wands at ready. There was a brief silence, and then the undeniable sounds of several somethings—or someones—heavy lumbering quickly away. A muffled, highly-accented curse rang out, accompanied by a low growl a moment later, and both men relaxed.

"Only Hagrid and Fang, then." Dumbledore smiled slightly. "What was that about walls and ears, Severus?"

Snape scowled back, but ungraciously conceded the point before returning to their interupted conversation. "Still, the method you have chosen…are you positive that this is the best course of action?"

The Headmaster's tone lightened but his piercing gaze remained serious. "Why, Severus, given the alacrity with which you had given that vow, I had thought my invitation welcome!"

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the clearing, and Snape looked back at Dumbledore, his face an unreadable mask. Finally he spoke. "You misjudge me…sir."

"Do I?" The question was softly spoken but powerful. The two men stared at each other for several more minutes, not speaking. Strangely, it was the elder who looked away first, his eyes suspiciously wet. He cleared his throat once, almost savagely, before speaking again.

"…perhaps I have." The Headmaster turned and stared out into the black depths of the forest. "It is not easy, this task I have asked of you. To willingly walk into hatred and condemnation, with no chance of redemption…no, that is never, can never, be simple."

The man he was adressing gave a short, bitter laugh."I have played this part for so long that I would scarely know another way, Headmaster, even if you had offered it to me. It is not a journey that frightens me, nor a destination I would shy from." The Dark Arts master also turned away and stared out into the inky blackness. "What is of concern to me is the result. When you first approached me you seemed so positive…so sure. But now…how can either of us know…"

"…that what we do is right?" Albus picked up the sentence as Severus trailed off, and then sighed heavily. "We can't. As much as I dislike admitting it, for all of my scheming and calculations and mechanations and predictions, I have no 'proof', as you would say, that my meddling alters anything. Will what I have done bring about the end I sought to achieve? Will it be worth it? I have no way of knowing, for that is the nature of things. No human being, H. sapiens sapiens and H. sapiens magus alike, can possibly see the millions of trillions of possible futures that each minute action of everyday life can influence. So I can not prove to you, Severus, that your sacrifices have not been in vain. Even if all goes according to plan, there is no guarantee of success; it is all up to chance."

"The boy could fail." The shocking whispered words hung in the air, resisting the gale that was attempting to whip them away like so much dirty laundry.

"Yes, but Severus," The old wizard smiled gently, "he could also succeed. And if there is the slightest chance that our meddling has helped that happy event occur, then I personally would count my sins as well spent." Snape's shaken eyes closed for a moment. When they opened, the man had again recovered his composure, and Albus went on. "So I will continue to act on the presumption that what I do will, in the end, be for the good. That boy does indeed have the power to destroy Voldemort; you and I both have seen it. But right now the solution…" A sadness crossed the weathered face. "I fear it is still beyond his ken. He does not lack for courage or commitment, but the boy is still too sheltered…"

"Sir, I have tried not to question your decision but there are other ways to open his eyes…"

"So I had thought and believe me, I have tried them all. But even outright hatred was not enough to truly shake the boy's faith in me." The great wizard shook his head, his eyes downcast. "Severus…I cannot protect him forever. You know how this must end, and, may his mother forgive me, what he must do. But first, we must show him the way. Will you stand by me…to the end?"

Once again, Severus could feel the tug of the puppet master's strings pulling him towards the void. Almost resentfully, he snapped, "I gave you my oath and answer long ago, Headmaster."

"This is not something I can order you to do, Severus! What I have asked of you...you could still choose to walk away. It has to be done. Yet I cannot hold you to an oath that I myself would have had great difficulty making.

"But I also cannot do this without you. I would not want…to do this without you, Severus.

"Perhaps it is just an old man's vanity. But I would rather that someone I trusted be there when the time comes."

Albus Dumbledore could count on one finger the number of times he had seen the ex-Potions Master cry, but at that moment the strange glimmering in the man's eyes could almost be mistaken for tears, though the man's sour expression betrayed nothing. An eerie stillness settled once more across the clearing; even the gusting winds had died down. In the distance, he could just make out the cheery sound of the schoolbell calling stragglers to dinner.

"Sir…"

"You do not have to tell me your answer, Severus. It…"

But Snape shook his head, almost angrily.

"No, I must."

He was silent for a moment more, staring off into the distance. Then he swung around. His black eyes rose to meet Dumbledore's.

"I hate this," he hissed. "I hate how we're trapped in this cycle, I hate the meaningless blood and sweat and tears we've lost to this fight. I hate the sacrifices. Lily, the Longbottoms…Blood magic, hah! There is surely no greater evil in the world."

He leaned forward, and with measured, deliberate tones asked, "Tell me, Headmaster. If you ensure Harry's victory in this way, however oblivious he may be of the obvious…will he be any different than Voldemort himself? Will his hands, unwittingly steeped with this blood, be any cleaner for his innocence?"

Dumbledore said nothing as he returned Snape's accusing stare, but his gaze was troubled. Snape uncomfortably broke the connection and began to pace across the clearing, pushing his long, greasy hair back with one hand. Eventually his feet stilled.

When he spoke he sounded weary, as if he had just taken the weight of the world onto his sagging shoulders. "Once, when I was young and foolish, I made a decision. I did terrible things. And now to protect the Order, and myself, I still do terrible things. But one thing I have never done is broken is my word.

"I disagree with both your morals and your methods in this matter, Albus, and by my life, I wished I could think of another, different way to end this…"

"Severus…" began Dumbledore, a slight plea in his voice.

"Don't interupt." Snape snapped. "This is hard enough as it is." He took a deep breath and continued, "I desperately wished for another way, but there were none. So I gave you my word. And I have followed this path of yours for far too long to abandon it now." He sighed and straightened up, his voice growing quieter and more distant as he continued. "I promise, I will do what you have asked of me, old friend…and as I have now thrice vowed to do."

As suddenly as it had stilled, the wild wind blew up again, swirling overhead, moaning through the lifeless branches and tearing at the few dead leaves that still clung stubbornly to the trees. It rushed though the clearing and past the old wizard's cheeks, whipping shed tears into a salty spray. He reached his one good hand out towards the younger man, trying to express his gratitude, but Snape had already turned his back and was stalking away through the shadowy forest.

A life for the world. One single life; such an insignificant speck in the grand scheme of things, such a small sacrifice. One out of billions. One to save millions. Dumbledore was convinced it would be a fair exchange, he knew.

…why, then, did it seem too great a price to pay?

"We've got a problem, Snape,' said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and wand alike were fixed upon Dumbledore, 'the boy doesn't seem able –'

But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.

"Severus…"

The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading.

Snape said nothing, but walked forewards and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed.

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched into the harsh lines of his face.

"Severus, please…"

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

"Avada-"

It was a small thing. The leering Death Eaters did not notice. The invisible Harry, bound by the paralysis spell and wide eyed with horror, most certainly did not. But for a brief millisecond in time, the eyes of the two wizards met.

For the briefest of milliseconds, the twinkle came back to Dumbledore's eyes, and Snape felt a thought press gently against his Occulmacy sheilds, soothing away the disgust and self-hatred created by this necessary act.

'Thank you, Severus…'

"-Kedavra!"

The world exploded into a brilliant green light.

--'HBP' p.556