Before long Minerva McGonagall was entering somewhere she never thought she would.
"Professor, yeh don' look so good...yeh sure yeh wanna see 'im?" asked the guard.
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," assured Minerva. "It's just extremely cold in here."
"Yep. It's always col' in 'ere, with the Dementors an' all," explained the guard, "but it's mighty col' durin' winter, that's fer sure."
Minerva clutched her cloak tightly around her as she followed one of the human guards down the dark, depressing corridors of Azkaban prison.
"And the prisoners - do they get anything during winter to keep them warm?" she questioned.
The guard laughed cruelly.
"Naw, the point fer them to come 'ere is fer them to suffer," he stated. "Yeh ain' sufferin' if yer nice an' warm in yer cell, now are yeh?"
"So you mean to tell me that they just sit in this cold all winter?" she asked completely shocked. She knew that the treatment here was brutal, but she never thought it was this bad. "The poor people..."
"They ain' people!" he snipped. "They're criminals! An' watch yer step, Professor, we're goin' up to the high security level."
"So what's the difference between the high security level and the rest of Azkaban?" Minerva asked.
"High security prisoners usually are in fer life," he explained. "They've got 'em Dementors watchin' 'em all day an' night. Usually two per cell. Some've got three, others one. The regulars usually get 'bout ten hour breaks from 'em."
They reached the high security level, which was much colder and she could feel the presence of the dementors more than ever. She tried not to look at the prisoners, but she couldn't help it. Some were asleep, curled up into tiny balls on the floor. Others were slumped against the wall, grinning madly or muttering to themselves; one even stuck the finger at her. But they were all dirty, cold, and miserable. And to think Severus was one of them...
There was a blood curling scream and Minerva gasped.
"What is that? It sounds like a banshee!" she exclaimed.
"It's a new prisoner," he said as he stopped in front of a cell. "Shut up!"
She looked into the cell to see a young woman with filthy blonde hair. She looked empty and scared and demented. She sincerely hoped Severus was not like that.
They walked a few paces more before stopping in front of a cell that was guarded by three dementors. The guard hissed at the dementors and they glided away. Minerva was scared to look into the cell, so she kept her eyes on the prison guard.
"He's an odd one... Been 'ere for nearly a year an' a half, an' he ain' gone mad yet. Just sits in the corner," he said. At this Minerva sighed with relief. The prison guard banged a pole against the gate of the cell. "Hey, traitor, yeh've got a visitor."
Minerva slowly walked in front of the cell and looked inside. There he was, barely much more than a shadow, dirty and cold, sitting in the corner. His knees were to his chest and his hair was hanging in curtains around his face. He looked up at her, his face a ghostly white. He was extremely thin - they obviously didn't feed him very much. And to think he might be innocent...
"Hello, Severus," she said, keeping her voice soft, not wanting to scare him.
"Minerva," greeted Severus clearing his throat. He looked into her eyes. His eyes never changed. They were the same black, brilliant eyes they were the last time she saw him.
The prison guard unlocked the gate and opened it. He gave her a tiny push, as though Severus may try and escape while the gate was open. She walked inside and he shut and locked the door behind her. "I'll be back in twen'y minutes." He gave Severus a glare. "Behave." Then he left.
"I absolutely despise that awful, brutal, rude, hunk of a man and his improper grammar!" Minerva huffed. Severus smirked.
"Yes, he isn't too wonderful," admitted Severus. His voice and his speech had not been flawed. In fact, he seemed perfectly sane and aware of everything going on.
She smiled.
"How are you, Severus?" she asked.
"As well as you can expect," retorted Severus.
"You seem much better than the rest of the prisoners I passed on my way here," admitted Minerva.
He gave a tiny shrug. She sat down on the floor besides him and he looked at her, curiously.
"Minerva, why are you here?" he questioned. "I thought you wanted me dead."
She looked uneasy, then said, "Severus, we found a note that Albus wrote before his...death...that explained everything. We found a vial of his memories of you and him and it all explains the truth. His portrait has always said you were innocent, but no one is going to take the words of a dead man's portrait seriously."
"So now you believe me?" he said, and she could detect hurt in his words.
"I believe you," assured Minerva. "Some of the Ministry believes you. But that's not enough to get you out. They're holding another trial for you, with the new evidence."
"When?" he asked.
"In about a month," she said. She looked into his eyes again, and for once, there was a bit of hope. That was something that had long since left them.
"So I have a chance of... of being free?" he whispered. She felt her heart break for him.
"Well... the Minister made it clear to me that... even if you are proved innocent... they may still keep you in Azkaban," she admitted. It was hard to tell him.
Fear automatically rushed onto the pale face.
"What? But I'm innocent!" Severus cried. "They can't do that! Why would they do that?"
"Because they think letting you out will cause too much havoc and protests," she said sadly.
Snape looked down at the floor for a few minutes. He was innocent and yet, they would not release him. They would keep putting him through such torture. They would continue to keep him in this horrid place just to keep their public happy. What had he done to deserve such treatment?
"The Headmaster made a promise to me that I would get peace," he said quietly and Minerva nodded. Albus had told her that.
"I know," said Minerva. "He told me just recently."
He looked at her again.
"He told you about the promise?" he asked in surprise.
"Yes," she said. "He also said he intends to keep it."
He looked a bit surprised.
"I didn't think he remembered," admitted Severus as he faded off. Then he sighed. "It's hopeless, Minerva. I'll never be free. I'll never get my peace. And it's not the Headmaster's fault. He didn't know it would come to this."
"Severus, you can't give up," encouraged Minerva.
"I already gave up. Over a year ago when they arrested me," said Severus solemnly.
"Severus, I don't know what you're planning to do," Minerva said, her voice stern, obviously getting his attention. "But I intend to fight for justice to the end. This is unfair to you because you're being held captive when you're innocent. It is a crime and it is unjust. I don't care what it takes - you will be out of Azkaban if I have anything to do with it."
He looked at her the same way he had looked at Dumbledore so many years ago when the man had told that he would give him another chance at life.
"Why are you going to put yourself through so much trouble?" demanded Severus. "Why are you going to such lengths for me?"
"Because, Severus, you did so much for us during the war," she said. "You risked your life for us and now this is what you get for it? You're a hero. And not only that, Severus, but you're my friend. You've always been my friend, and you don't know what I felt when I heard you killed Albus. I felt betrayed, but, now I know you're innocent, which is something I always hoped you were. I'm willing to go to any length to help you now."
He looked at her and slowly shook his head.
"You're mad, Minerva, in every sense of the word," he stated.
She smiled at him and squeezed his arm.
"It's called love, Severus," said Minerva. "The love of a friend."
"I'm glad I have that in you," Severus said, giving a small smile. "You have it in me."
"Glad to hear it," she said. She looked him over. "You've gotten so thin... well, thinner. If Poppy could see you - she'd throw a fit! Do they feed you?"
"Yes," said Severus, "but the food's disgusting. I usually don't bother eating it."
"Obviously," stated Minerva. "You should, Severus." She stood up and looked out the barred window, out to the rough and crashing sea. "Is it always this stormy?"
"Always," said Severus.
"And this cold?" she asked.
"It gets a bit warmer during the summer months," said Severus. "But this is the general temperature, yes."
"How on earth do you keep sane and stay alive in this cold, with the dementors, barely sleeping, rarely eating, all alone, and in the dark?" she asked; she knew she would have definitely gone mad by now if she were him.
"I just keep thinking the same thing every time I feel like screaming or I feel insanity creeping in," admitted Severus. "I just keep thinking it until I've calmed down and it always works."
"And what is that?" she asked, curious to know his little secret.
He looked up at her, his black eyes glittering in the darkness.
"I'm innocent," he said simply.
