As those who have been following and commenting on this story know, I ran into a huge writer's block compounded by illness. The original track I had been on seemed to peter out in the wilderness and go nowhere. For that I am sorry but there it is.
After my brain started working again, I decided to review and rewrite so that I could take the plot to a real ending. Anyway, apart from the rather lame epilogue I have now, it's all finished. The story is pretty much the same until the middle of the second part and from there it gets a little complicated in the third and final part.
It has all been reviewed by the best team of betas in the world, Zarathustra46 is my main story flow checker and the Wicked Bunjhny had a killer purple pen that tends to eliminate so many commas it is the king of the comma slayers. LOL!
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Prologue – Excerpts from Reconstruction of a Death Eater
Aurors, stooped around the battlefield, checked to make sure those lying down were actually dead, while the few left alive were quickly bound and a Portkey was placed on their chests. The Ministry had learned from the Death Eaters: Instant Portkeys that transported straight to the Prison of Azkaban where offenders could be held until trial dates were set.
Moving slowly through the blood-soaked field, Rufus Scrimgeour came upon a welcome sight: Severus Snape trying to get free of a dead snake. "Must be my lucky day," Scrimgeour commented, with a twisted sneer as he crouched down beside the spy and laid a piece of stone on his chest. "Finally, I get to put you where you belong, you filthy animal, and no one will ever know what happened to you!"
As Snape opened his mouth to protest, the Portkey activated and Scrimgeour gave a jaunty little wave before standing up and dusting off his knees, a smugly satisfied laugh breaking out.
"That was not very nice, Auror Scrimgeour," a cultured feminine voice from behind him said, and he whipped around, trying to bring his wand to bear. The beautiful blonde in the dramatic black outfit merely smiled at his futile efforts to defend himself as her lips shaped the fatal words. The world turned green for Rufus Scrimgeour, even as his mind protested the unfairness.
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Severus was conscious of the darkness and the dank bedding under his cheek as his mind swam into consciousness. He also felt the cold creeping into his bones and brain. What the hell had happened? Nagini had rolled him up in her coils, while Pettigrew, the sneaky, filthy rat, came to hex him. Then Remus happened along and used his jaws to kill Nagini. How could Snape ever have thought Remus was… The pleasant thought was snatched away, replaced by the old vision of teeth, claws and snarling jaws, a frisson of terror crawling down his spine.
"What's happening to me?" he murmured aloud, slowly patting down his robes pockets, totally amazed to find his wand still in its sheath on his arm. Carefully drawing the slim rod, he cast Lumos and immediately shrank back against the wall when he realised he was surrounded by Dementors, with more of the filthy creatures pushing into the small, damp cell by the minute. Cold, grave-like fingers of thought began to invade his soul and mind thoughts, scrabbling through his memories, seeking out their warmth and joy, what precious little there was.
Desperately, Severus tried to cast his Patronus, but his one small kernel of joy was gleefully eaten up in an instant. Horrified, Snape cast his strongest occlumentic wall, forcing the ghostly tendrils from thoughts. A mad sweep of his own memories gathered up all his treasured moments and bundled them roughly into a holding ball. Even as he cast the password on the ball, the Occlumency wall smashed and the Dementors snatched at the last remnant, stealing away the words and feelings that made Severus 'Severus'; leaving only … Snape.
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The Governor of Azkaban staggered in shock when the flaring of his Floo disgorged Professor Dumbledore, soot falling away as if incapable of besmirching his clothes or beard.
"S-Sir! Professor, I - I didn't… Please, come and have a seat! Can we bring you some tea? A footstool perhaps, or a glass of pumpkin juice?"
"Now, now, Percy, do settle down. I am very sorry to disturb you so unexpectedly, but I fear you have one of my professors stashed away in your cells, quite by accident, I'm sure," Dumbledore said congenially as he took the proffered seat in front of the desk and with a twinkling eye surveyed his former Head Boy.
Percy gaped like a landed fish. "Oh no, Sir! That sort of thing does not happen anymore! No one gets in here unless they come through me, I do assure you. My system is fool proof and organised, not like the usual haphazard way the previous administrators ran this place. We have a filing system and a lot of checks and balances in place to stop people being attacked indiscriminately or being lost in the system…"
"All the same, Percy, I believe one prisoner has slipped in unannounced," Dumbledore broke in gently over Percy's tirade, backed up by a flourish of Albus' arm at the neatly arranged folders around the walls. "We have evidence of an Azkaban Portkey being used on the battlefield where Severus was last seen."
"Sev… Professor Snape? You lost Professor Snape? Oh, well, he wouldn't trip any alarms. One sweep of his Dark Mark and he'd be immediately incarcerated," Percy said contemptuously, then quavered under the steely look the Headmaster had taken on.
"Your prejudice does you no credit, my boy, and does Severus a deep disservice after all the time and sacrifice he has made on behalf of our very tired and ailing world. Show me immediately where Severus would be."
"Sir, the Dementors…."
"Now!"
The dark and freezing cell looked empty at first glance, the Dementors passing it by without stopping, but Dumbledore increased the output of his lumos spell and chased the shadows from the corners. A tiny huddle of black cloth was far too small to actually be such a tall man as Snape but nevertheless, Dumbledore insisted upon going in. Percy shook his head and sent in a guard to haul the unfortunate to the light, shocked when the filthy, stinking individual proved indeed to be Professor Snape, a thin and finely-drawn version of him with blood on his robes and empty darkness in his eyes.
"He's been stripped, Administrator," the guard said flatly, waving a hand in front of his face.
"Oh dear, this is… this is terrible! How did he get past my safeguards? Damn it! Now I'll have to review all the procedures again and send out another bloody hundred memos! Does no one read the procedural text these days? Honestly! How is a body supposed to keep everything documented if people don't follow the correct procedures?" Fussing and fuming, Percy stormed away, leaving Dumbledore to gently take Snape's shoulder and turn the battered body around, pointing him to the stairs as they walked together back up to the administration centre. The guard moved uneasily, but was not about to confront the great Albus Dumbledore over a prisoner who was really not supposed to be there in the first place. Especially a prisoner who had been stripped of all emotions by rogue Dementor action.
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Part 1
Chapter 01 – Catch a Death Eater by the Toe
There was very little time to recover from Azkaban. The Ministry liked their pound of flesh and wanted the juiciest cut straight from the heart. While Floo-ing in to Azkaban was reasonably simple, the Floo connection was only one way. Although impatient, the Headmaster managed to appear gracious while waiting for the boat he had arranged beforehand to take them to the mainland. Getting Severus aboard the boat, however, was no easy matter, taking the combined effort of two crewmen and two guards as Severus began to struggle. All of Albus' gentle coaxing failed to reassure the traumatised man. Eventually, Albus cast stupefy on his professor and the loading went more smoothly after that. The transport boat had barely finished the docking procedures when half a dozen Aurors appeared, wands drawn, and surrounded the small party. Furious, Albus tried to intervene but was firmly and relentlessly edged aside as a Portkey was pressed into the pale man's side and the Aurors vanished, with Severus held upright between them.
"Damn that Minister Clearwater! Damn him to the Pits!" Albus swore. It was so out of character that the boat crew blinked in surprise. Without waiting for the convenience of a Portkey, the Headmaster Disapparated.
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Alastor Moody stared down at the bundle of rags and filth that was Severus Snape, then moved a fold of cloth away with the toe of his boot. He sighed as the eager circle of younger Aurors leaned forward as though smelling blood. "Kingsley," Moody bellowed, the dark man appearing in a few seconds. "Take Snape down to the cell blocks and clean him up! See if you can get him into any sort of shape to face the Wizengamot on Wednesday. He's still in battle robes so he might have a potion or two hidden on him, but take a field pack with you just in case. You, Brixton, and you, Duranes, pick him up! Oh for Merlin's sake; he's dirty, not dangerous!"
Shocked that the hard old former Auror had even asked for that much of a concession for one they deemed 'the enemy', the two named young men grasped a stick-thin arm each and hauled him upright. With Shacklebolt behind them, they were forced to use care as they manoeuvred Snape down to the cellblock and into the closest cell. They were still more shocked when Kingsley called for them to ease Snape down onto the cot and go fetch food upon leaving the cell.
The two young Aurors went into the corridor muttering imprecations on the prisoner's head, wondering if Snape had somehow managed to cast imperio on the older Auror or if both the older Aurors were somehow other wizards under Polyjuice. Neither young man, however, dared say such things aloud in case they were wrong. Moody's wrath was legendary and no one wanted to court it.
"Bloody hell, Snape! You do get yourself into some predicaments," Kingsley muttered under his breath as he began to strip the filthy clothes off the stick thin figure, shaking his head at the numerous scars and open scabs littering the man's torso. "Looks like spying is as hard a game as being an Auror, humm? Okay, settle down, I'm not going to hurt you, just a Scourgify; you stink, my man!" Murmuring reassuring nonsense, Kingsley managed to get the professor out of his filthy robes, cleaned, and into a standard prison uniform with a minimum of fuss.
The young trainees soon brought in a hot meal on a floating tray. As the weakened and shocked man was incapable of feeding himself, Kingsley took up the cutlery with a faint sigh and began to spoon the soup with all the skill of a man used to feeding a two-year-old. "Lupin must have had the patience of a saint," Kingsley remarked at one point, shaking his head as he vanished a dribble of soup away. "Had enough then? Alright. Lie down and try to sleep. I'm sure you're going to have a hard couple of days." Kingsley rose with another sigh and left the pale, thin man shaking and twitching on the cot.
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The wizarding world was agog. A trial of the last Death Eater was to take place before the Wizengamot in the middle of the week. An open forum trial, which the public could attend! A national holiday was proclaimed as everyone wanted to be present and no one would be left to run the wizarding world.
Albus paced the Minister's office in a fine old temper. "How could you, Constantine? How could you treat one of the most constant and valiant fighters for the Light like this? Making a spectacle of him for no better reason than to give the public a vicarious thrill! Do you plan to take a leaf out of the ancient Roman Caesars' book and give the public bread and circuses in place of real governance?"
"Albus, please! Settle down. Look, I gave you your way over the trial of Draco Malfoy; I closed the court, and suppressed the proceedings. I have to give the public something to think about; something to hate and to show that justice has been done. All very publicly and above board. Damn it, Albus, you know the public temper! They want scapegoats and Severus Snape is the favourite scapegoat of all; well-known and universally hated by everyone."
"And so, you are simply going to give in to public pressure and openly crucify my boy to save your own skin?"
Constantine Clearwater tightened his lip and scowled angrily. "Yes, I am!" he snapped. "I have given in to your demands on far too many occasions, Albus; allowed you to dictate to the Ministry in too many matters. But this time I will not allow you to prevail. The trial date is set for Wednesday morning at nine am! Good day!"
"I will defend my boy!" Albus roared bitterly, as he exited.
"You do that, Albus, you just do that," Constantine muttered wearily, as he sank back into his seat.
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"Right! On your feet, Snape," a voice snarled, a heavy hand hauling him upright. Without will, Severus was marched off to a brightly lit area and thrust stumbling toward the far wall. "Strip and shower," the guard snapped, stomping away.
The prisoner slid down into a crumpled heap as a second guard approached, once the other had departed. "Oh Merlin, Professor, you are a mess," the soft exclamation barely echoed in the empty, tiled space. "Come on, on your feet. Let's get you cleaned up."
Stripping him deftly, the young woman wrestled the long, skinny body under the hot water and washed him with ruthless efficiency, as if bathing a doll. His hair was washed with the minimum of fuss, the towel plied with equal vigour and the man was stuffed into clean, neat clothes that had been delivered from his home that morning. Pulling out a brush, she pulled his hair back and tied it at his neck to keep it out of his eyes before stepping behind him and pulling her wand. "Right; forward, march," she snarled, once again the ruthless, stern prison guard.
"Well, at least he looks and smells better," Auror Shacklebolt muttered as the prisoner came into sight. "Let's get him fed and watered, ready for his court début. Porridge, I think. It will buffer his stomach against the Veritaserum. There's no way he'll be allowed to testify without it. Oh are there going to be some very surprised people."
Auror Blair McGonagall blinked at her boss in curiosity. She had been asked to do what she could for Snape by her great Aunt who had a real soft spot for the grim prisoner she had bathed that morning. Her Aunt had even arranged for her to transfer to the Ministry on temporary assignment as a prison guard, effective Tuesday morning. She had been left in charge of Snape and had done her best to make him comfortable in the twenty-four hours granted to her. Hadn't been easy to keep her fellow officers away, a few exhibiting outright hatred that bordered on the pathological. Still, she had done her duty - and her duty to her aunt - and was reasonably happy with the result.
Kingsley chuckled. "Severus knows all the secrets of most of the people he comes into contact with every day. He educated their children, worked with the adults or spied upon them. And he never forgets a thing. Believe me, there are going to be some red faces out there before the day is through and I cannot wait to see the fireworks. My best advice to you, Auror McGonagall, is 'remain seated; it's going to be a bumpy ride!'" The two Aurors grinned maliciously at each other as they finished feeding the prisoner and escorted him to the holding area outside courtroom ten. This was the largest of the courtrooms and had been magically expanded to hold the expected crowd, then expanded again when the crowd exceeded expectations.
The Wizengamot was out in full force, taking up all their seats in the main arena. The guest gallery was completely choked with celebrity guests, including the famous Boy-Who-Lived, his fiancée Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor Lioness, and her husband the infamous Lord Draco Malfoy. Members of Snape's classes at Hogwarts were out in force, including various war heroes, and representatives of the Potions Makers fraternity. In the public gallery, the 'unwashed masses' milled and gossiped, a few enterprising entrepreneurs offering drinks and peanuts for sale.
"A bloody three ring circus, complete with clowns!" Minerva McGonagall muttered angrily as yet another scuffle broke out in the crowd below. "Poor Severus, he does hate to be the centre of attention. Can you see Rolanda anywhere, Filius?"
A disgruntled noise came from her left hip where the tiny Charms Master was being squashed against the partition that ran all around the gallery. "Funny girl," he grumbled and Minerva sniggered. There weren't many left who called her 'girl' any more.
"What a shambles," Draco hissed furiously, embracing Hermione's shoulders as someone pushed into them from behind. "They're all out for blood and they would tear him apart if they got the chance. Oh Merlin, hasn't he suffered enough?"
"Hush, love, hush. We've done everything we could on such short notice. You know that. Our legal department gathered as much evidence as they could, highlighting all of the things Severus has done for the greater good. Your grandfather's and father's diaries are conclusive proof Severus was not working for the Dark Lord all of the time."
"If the diaries are read very carefully and selectively," Draco conceded grimly. "If the prosecution gets hold of them though, we are done!"
"Who is the Prosecuting Wizard?" Ginny asked, peering around Harry's rigid bulk to ask. Harry was not taking the crowds and noise at all well in his current blind state. Ginny was grateful that he couldn't see the pointed fingers, stares and gawping hoards. Only the fact that it was a guarded gallery stopped the rude public from swarming Harry, demanding autographs and asking prying questions.
"I don't know, and that's not for the want of asking, either," Draco replied sullenly. "It's possibly the best-held secret of this trial."
"Well, looks like we'll all know in a moment. I think they're about to start."
The members of the Wizengamot slowly filed in, gowns glowing in the light of the multiple torches set 'round the walls, and even overhead. One or two of the Court members had to be helped in by assistants, being well into their dotage and usually staying away from all proceedings. But this trial was too important to miss! Minister Constantine Clearwater followed them in, his purple robe trimmed with the black and white fur collar of his office, and the golden chain around his neck symbolising the gravity of his commitment to the people of the wizarding world. The Minister actually looked quite regal as he took his seat at the head of the courtroom.
Aurors filed in, red dress robes glowing like fresh blood in the torchlight as they took up guard positions all around the room between the crowd and the Floor where the huge chair with chains attached dominated the open space. Beside the chair sat a small table, empty at the moment but later would hold flasks of Veritaserum to be used in the interrogation of the prisoner. Draco leaned across and muttered to Harry that he didn't see Shacklebolt or Moody in the line-up, omissions that seemed very ominous to the watching group of Snape Supporters. Finally, the scene was set and the officers of the court were doing their best to silence the crowd as the great clock in the centre of the Ministry struck nine.
Silence fell instantly as the double doors under the Wizengamot's box crashed open. Known as the Prisoner's Gate, it led to the holding cells and had seen the passage of many a vicious and dangerous felon, none more so than the man who was emerging at that moment. A pale face and equally pale hands were all that was visible in the darkness as everyone waited with breath to see this dangerous man stumble forward, humbled and humiliated. Yet he didn't. There was no sign of chains as Snape emerged, upright and unbowed, flanked by three Aurors: Shacklebolt, Proudfoot, who looked as if he had swallowed a lemon, and McGonagall bringing up the rear of the small procession.
There had been something of an altercation in the holding area when Shacklebolt refused to chain or bait the prisoner, Proudfoot growing quite angry until Shacklebolt had reminded Proudfoot who was the senior officer and who would obey the 'hands off' rule or suffer a broken nose and a court-martial, if he wasn't careful. Seething in fury, the Auror Sergeant bided his time, looking for an opening to hex or curse the prisoner but Shacklebolt was too good at his job monitoring the procession. The Aurors proceeded out onto the floor of the courtroom in a neat, orderly fashion.
In front of the chair, Severus executed a neat about-face in time with Shacklebolt, leaving Proudfoot to come about in a sloppy third, souring Proudfoot's mood still further. The members of the Wizengamot drew back slightly as the flat black eyes surveyed them from a bland, if not completely expressionless face. Kingsley took a step forward and announced the arrival of the prisoner as ritual demanded, then stepped back awaiting the next developments.
Minister Clearwater stood up to address the court. "The accused, Severus Snape, is brought before this court to answer to the charges of being a Death Eater, causing death to fellow witches and wizards, of practicing dark magic, and casting Unforgivable curses on members of the public. The Defence enters a plea of 'Not Guilty due to Extenuating Circumstances' and the Prosecution will endeavour to refute that plea. Council for the Defence is Albus Dumbledore assisted by Julius Podmore QC and Artimus Diopoles WQC. Council for the Prosecution is Madam Anuya Susan Bones WQC, assisted by Magnus Scrimgeour WQC and Peyton Williamson QC. Due to the nature of this trial, a seventh officer will be appointed and be present to administer the Veritaserum and assure that the serum is working fully. The Wizengamot appoints as Chief Interrogator, Auror Inspector Alastor Moody, Retired."
There was an outcry of mixed horror and pleasure as the old Auror stumped out, his scarred face twisted, his magical eye swirling all around the room. In the public gallery a wave of fear swept over the populace as the name of Mad-Eye Moody was infamous and synonymous with terror. All felt that this last Death Eater would finally get 'his' now. In the private gallery the reaction was more mixed, not quite sure if the appointment of Moody was a good or a bad move for their case. Harry's head rose suddenly, a twisted little smile gracing his lips, echoing Moody's ironic sneer as he heard the last announcement. The trial had suddenly become way more interesting to him.
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