Voldemort's Assassin - Chapter 3

Grimmauld Place

"But, Harry, the file is active!" Hermione insisted for the fourth or fifth time.

Harry had invited Hermione to Grimmauld Place to work on his ideas of renovation for the place. After he, supervised by Molly, had cleaned the gloomy house from top to bottom Harry had decided it needed much more than a cleaning. He had not expected Hermione to show up crowing about some mystery dealing with Severus Snape.

Harry had explained that although the house was cleaner, and appeared more inviting, he needed to put his own touches on the place so he would feel more at home. Ignoring Hermione's outburst about some file, he scooted his drawings for the kitchen across the coffee table to her.

"Mrs. Weasley was happy to use that old stove, and oven for cooking, but I think I'd like something more modern, and maybe butcher block for the counters…" began Harry

"Harry! This is important!" she shoved the folder she had lifted from her office at him, scattering his drawings to the floor.

"Look, Hermione," sighed Harry heavily as he sent their tea things to the kitchen, and leaned over to pick up his homemade blueprints. "It's the Ministry. Don't you think they could have screwed up? I mean, that folder was magically recording Snape's expired Apparition Licence months after his death."

"I know, Harry," muttered Hermione as she stared at the plain folder she had purloined from her office.

Harry curled up in the one worn chair that had belonged to Sirius Black that he had kept. "Did you speak to this LB?"

"Laurena Batrice." Hermione nodded. "She affirmed that she had made the final note, but she couldn't tell me why the folder was still in the active file cabinet." Her lips pursed as she quickly recalled that Laurena Batrice really had not cared whether or not the magic of the folder revealed anything about Severus Snape. "I think she probably thought I was nuts."

"I don't think you're nuts, Hermione." Harry shook his head. "But, I don't know what to tell you."

For a long minute the witch stared at the folder, and just when Harry thought they were finished with the subject of the spy/Death Eater/teacher, she blurted, "I think he's still alive."

"What?!" Harry jumped up from his comfortable position in the plushy, old chair.

"I think the magic is trying to tell us that Severus Snape is still alive, Harry." Hermione sounded calm to herself, but she felt her heart beating harder in her chest.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted. "That's impossible! Snape died right in front of us!" He insisted.

"Did he?" Hermione asserted. "Did he, Harry? We were kids… afraid… and we were witnesses to something horrible…"

"I KNOW! I WAS THERE DAMMIT!" Harry snapped himself back into the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. His brows beetled in anger as images from that day - that awful vision of Nagini wrapping herself around Snape. He closed his eyes against the memory. "He was dead," he groused.

"Harry, listen to me. I went to see Minerva and she let me into Professor Snape's quarters…"

"She kept them?!" Harry demanded in shock.

"Minerva didn't have a choice, Harry. Hogwarts kept his rooms. The castle also kept his private lab which she told me she had not been able to access since the Final Battle."

Harry huffed in annoyance. "But you accessed it, right?" Harry expected Hermione to tell him that she had, but she shook her head. Harry gave her a puzzled glance.

"I tried," Hermione sighed and fell against the back of the couch. "Professor Snape's spells and wards are just too strong."

"Snape was a good wizard," muttered Harry with a touch of admiration.

Hermione smirked. "Yeah, but I don't think we have to get into his lab. I mean, now that I've had time to think on it, don't you think it's awfully odd that a Potions Master of Professor Snape's calibre 'died' from a snake bite? Or, the poison? The same poison that that Potions Master found a cure for when we almost lost Arthur Weasley to the very same thing? And, you recall, don't you Harry, that Mr. Weasley's wounds were all around his neck, chest, and arms?"

Harry nodded and leaned forward. "Yeah. Yeah I do. Mr. Weasley fought with Nagini, and she really messed him up." He then shook his head. "But Snape didn't bring that antidote. Dumbledore did."

Hermione huffed softly. "Just because the Headmaster brought the antidote doesn't mean he was the one who brewed it. We know from the Headmaster's portrait's testimony that it was Professor Snape who created the antidote. It was also Professor Snape who told the Headmaster to tell the Healer that Mr. Weasley's wounds would have to be sewn shut in the Muggle surgical way."

Harry paced across the threadbare carpet, nervously biting his thumb. When he stopped he did so right in front of his best friend. "When you went to Hogwarts did Minerva tell you?"

"Tell me what, Harry?" asked Hermione, her interest piqued.

"About Snape's body. I took Minerva, and a nurse to the Shrieking Shack to recover Snape's body…" Harry paused, and Hermione nodded to keep him going. "Well, Snape wasn't there. In the Shrieking Shack. I thought he'd gotten away, but the nurse said there was too much blood. It was Minerva who said that maybe it was one of the escaped Death Eaters that took his body. She made us swear we wouldn't say anything."

"The casket was empty?!" Hermione gasped and Harry nodded. Hermione's lips pursed again as she made a decision. "I know I'm guessing, but I think Professor Snape had that antidote."

Harry shook his head. "It wouldn't have helped him, Hermione. Remember? Even if he was still alive when we left him, he couldn't move. If an escaped Death Eater stole his body it wasn't to keep him alive but to…" Harry gulped, grimaced, and whispered, "...Snape was a traitor. Death Eaters would have desecrated his body."

Harry dropped back into his chair, and dropped his head into his hands. It still hurt to remember that day in the Shrieking Shack.

He'd had no reason to trust Snape. Hell, he didn't even like him. Hated Snape, even. He murdered Dumbledore, and he betrayed the Order of the Phoenix.

But, it hurt to see the man who had been so dismissive… no, hateful towards him… in pain. Snape had expelled his memories which saved them all, but his eyes had glistened with unshed tears as he lay dying from awful wounds.

Nagini's fangs had stabbed the wizard's throat, his shoulder. Wounds that were as clean as a weapon that struck flesh would make. Snape was bleeding heavily from those bites, and Harry not only could smell the blood, but it had crept into his throat.

Harry saw the terrible past of Snape's horrid pain: the man's throat had swollen horribly from Nagini's venom, and the Potions Master gasped as he fought for every breath. When Snape spoke his voice was laced with the pain he suffered.

Harry raised his head, and looked across at Hermione. His own eyes glittered with the tears Snape had never been able to release. "Nobody cared about him, Hermione. There was nobody… to save him."


A/N: Today is my 52nd birthday so I decided to gift you with an early chapter. Next chapter will be posted on Friday.