There was a whispering amongst the portraits. He ignored it as he continued to write, hooked nose almost touching the parchment, greasy black hair obscuring his profile. A coil of parchment covered with spiky, cramped script had rolled off the front of the desk and nearly touched the floor opposite to where the black-haired man was sitting, more of his writing continuing to slip out from under his ink-stained fingers.
"Headmaster," said Phineas Nigellus. "The Sentry says the Carrows request an audience."
"'Request an audience,'" repeated Severus derisively.
"You told us not to let them just barge right in here whenever they wanted. Do you need a moment?" Phineas looked pointedly at Severus' parchment.
"Right." Severus sat up straight and cast spells to dry the ink and roll up the parchment with a snap before bunging it into a drawer and sealing it in with a series of gutteral-sounding, half-whispered spells.
Phineas looked askance at Severus. "I'm not sure how I feel about the former Head of Slytherin using goblin wards."
"You weren't sure how you felt about the Head of Slytherin being a half-blood," retorted Severus.
"How many times, and in how many ways, do I have to retract that?" protested Phineas.
Footsteps could be heard on the stairs. Severus cast a spell to vanish the ink from his fingers. Just before the door opened, the former Headmasters of Hogwarts slumped in their portraits, and were soon, each of them, the picture of deep slumber, oblivious to the world of the living once more.
"Amycus. Alecto. What a pleasant surprise," said Severus, smiling faintly, and sipped from a cup of tea, a copy of the Daily Prophet opened in front of him.
"There's a problem, Snape," began Amycus.
"Which we could have told you about sooner, if you ever turned up for meals," said Alecto.
"I prefer not to eat in the presence of people who regard me as their bitter enemy," said Severus.
"You're the Headmaster. Do as you like, far as I'm concerned," said Amycus. To his sister he said, "It makes sense, I think. They could hex him when his back was turned. Especially the Animagus MacGonagall. You see the way she looks at him? Or they could slip something into his food."
"POISON the Dark Lord's Potions master? I doubt that very much..."
"You both have classes soon," said Severus, steepling his hands on his desk. "What is this problem that can't wait?"
"It's that filthy half-breed, Hagrid. We've been following him when he takes students into the Forest for the past couple of detentions."
"Have you?" said Severus, controlling his voice.
"Yes, and it's just like we suspected. He makes them do some chores, like. And then," Alecto paused to shudder. "And then...he talks to them about how wonderful the spiders are."
"A nature walk is hardly fitting punishment for these nosy little know-it-alls," said Amycus, "But do you know what Hagrid did yesterday?"
"I can't begin to guess," said Severus, anticipating genuine anger.
"He hosted a 'Support Harry Potter' party IN HIS HOUSE! And you know who he invited? All the very same students he took on those phoney detentions. And some others, too. And he made a cake for them!!"
Severus leapt to his feet, his face white with real anger. However much he respected Hagrid, the man was a terrible, horrible, dreadful spy, and now he would have to leave. Suppressing the thought that being fed cake baked by Hagrid was a dire enough punishment of which the Dark Lord might heartily approve, Severus said, "Have you called the Ministry?"
"We thought we should inform you first," said Amycus.
Severus nodded. "I'll call the Ministry. But let's summon Hagrid first. It would be easier for the Aurors if they don't have to pursue him through the Forest. And his explanation should be amusing, I dare say."
The siblings sniggered as Severus gestured at the flue with his wand. A few minutes later, they could hear Hagrid's heavy tread on the stairs.
"You sen' for me, Headmaster?" said Hagrid, favouring the Carrows with a curious glance.
"Hosting a 'Support Harry Potter' party in your house? I always thought you were a half-wit. But apparently, I overestimated," said Severus snidely.
Hagrid looked between Severus and the Carrows. "The kids are scared. They're jus' kids. They needed to forget abou' things for a while. It was jus' an excuse for a party..."
"Poor babies," crooned Alecto. "Sounds like they need more special attention."
Severus continued, "Are you sure you're half giant? From the looks of you, I'd say you're half mountain troll."
Hagrid's puzzled look disappeared, his brow smoothing. He drew himself up to his full, considerable height. "I don' care what you think I am. I know what I am, an' I'm proud. An' I'll tell you something else."
Severus was shaking his head at Hagrid almost imperceptibly. But to Hagrid, it was completely imperceptible.
"Albus Dumbledore was a great man," proclaimed Hagrid, puffing out his chest and planting his hands on his hips. "I always said that. An' I always will."
"You should have seen the 'great man' pleading for his life, helpless as a Muggle," gloated Alecto.
Hagrid glared at Severus. "So it's true, then? Wha' Harry Potter said?"
Severus grinned widely. Aiming carefully, he pointed his wand at Hagrid's chest. "Crucio!"
The spell deflected off Hagrid's massive coat and struck Amycus full-on. The Death Eater fell to the floor writhing and screaming.
"So you are half-giant after all," remarked Severus. "Only half-human, and barely a wizard."
"Your pitiful spells don' work on ME!!" exclaimed Hagrid, gesticulating melodramatically.
"You have no hope of FLEEING!" said Severus, widening his eyes at Hagrid. He turned back to the Carrows. Amycus was hobbling back to his feet with help from his sister. "Inform the Ministry while I hold him."
Alecto ran across the room. "Pius Thicknesse," she shouted, throwing down a handful of Floo powder in the area of the hearth.
"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!" shouted Hagrid, and he wedged himself out the door while Severus and Amycus ineffectually rained spells upon his back.
Alecto fell backwards upon the hearth with a shriek. "Blocked. The Minister was right in front of me, and I was thrown back."
"AFTER HIM!!" shouted Severus, and the Carrows ran to pursue Hagrid down the stairs.
Severus held back, looking questioningly at the portrait behind his desk. But the former Headmaster would only smile, blue eyes twinkling maddeningly.
There was a sound of a scuffle, muffled curses, and a howl of pain before the Carrows reappeared. Alecto's nose was bleeding profusely.
"Episkey," said Severus pointing his wand at Alecto, and she winced as her nose healed.
"The bloody door at the bottom of the bloody stairs bloody closed," snarled Amycus.
"Don't be absurd. There's no door at the bottom of the stairs," retorted Severus.
"SO IT'S ANOTHER OF THE PRANKS OF THIS BLOODY SCHOOL!! The bloody moving staircases, the bloody poltergeist throwing bloody water balloons, the bloody rooms that sometimes aren't bloody there - where's the educational value in all this?! I ask you?" ranted Amycus.
"I wanted to deliver the half-breed to the Aurors," whined Alecto. "It's not fair. The gargoyle said we needed a password to exit. So I said, "Dumbledore," and it said, no; that's the password for coming in. Ran right into the bloody door, I did."
"And the bloody Floo isn't bloody working," said Amycus, who had wandered over to the hearth and thrown most of Severus' supply of Floo powder hither and thither in his futile attempts to leave.
Severus shook his head. "When the office seals itself, there's no coming or going until the Headmaster personally clears the way." He descended the staircase and walked towards what the Carrows called a door, but in reality was a solid stone wall sealing off the gargoyle's niche. Involuntarily he closed his eyes when he hit the wall, just as he used to at Platform 9 3/4, but there was nothing there, not even motes of dust when he opened his eyes.
He returned to his office to find brother and sister peering out the window.
"Thicknesse received enough of my message," said Alecto, beaming, and gestured out the window. "The Aurors. They're here."
Standing beside Alecto, Amycus shook his head. "Too late. Hagrid ran into the Forest, where he met a giant, who could see over the trees to where the Aurors were. Hagrid and the giant fled the grounds together." He turned to look at Severus. "Can Hagrid Disapparate?"
"No idea," answered Severus honestly.
"I thought the giants were on our side," said Alecto.
"The support of the giants is provisional at best," said Severus. "Leave me. And forget your classes; by now, you're hopelessly late. Find the Aurors, and report back to me."
After the door closed behind the Carrows, Dumbledore said, "Hagrid and Grawp should be halfway to the mountains by now."
Severus nodded. He looked out over the forest to the nebulous irregular outline barely visible on the horizon and felt pierced with envy.
Dumbledore continued, "The Carrows' suspicions were mounting for months. It is well Hagrid left when he did. Things could have gone much worse."
"Obviously," Severus snapped. "He should have left sooner in the conversation. As soon as I said, 'mountain,' he was supposed to flee. Instead, he dawdled..."
"...hoping that something might happen to forestall his departure. He understands the difficulty of your position now."
Severus sprawled in his chair, crossing an ankle over one knee, dangling his arms over the armrests. "Maybe if we took Minerva into our confidence..."
The former Headmaster shook his head. "Too dangerous."
Severus made a dismissive gesture. "I''ve been in danger a long time, and she's still officially the Deputy Headmistress. I could assign her disciplinary duties to take up the slack in the wake of Hagrid's departure. And I think she'd have better sense than to start throwing any 'Support Harry Potter' parties in the Gryffindor common room."
"Severus, you've been saying how disappointed you are in Minerva..."
"I'm very disappointed. Look at how readily she believed me to be evil. All these years we worked together, and I thought she might have deduced the truth, if Hagrid could."
"Unlike Hagrid, she didn't know I was dying. But she could see that I was gravely sick. When you killed me, she may have suspected that there was a plan between us, and she's furious that we didn't involve her."
"I haven't seen any hint of that in her mind," Severus argued.
"Minerva and I were friends for decades before you were born," said Dumbledore. "It's possible I've mentioned to her my aversion to a lingering death. Imagine how slighted she must feel. She's no Occlumens, but she can sublimate her feelings, appearing as if she is motivated by something completely different. She already understands more than she thinks she does, but we can't actively involve her because she is too independent-minded, and may act on her own, doing something to attract Tom's personal attention."
"How very like a cat she is."
"You have no idea."
"So what you're telling me is, the only person who can end this situation is the Dark Lord."
"Yes, let's hope he attacks the school soon," said Phineas snidely. "That should keep the students safe from detention."
"Phineas!" snapped Dilys Derwent. "Our support for the Headmaster is always unwavering."
"That includes helping him to see sense," retorted Phineas.
"That doesn't include showing him disrespect!"
"What is it?" said Severus sharply, addressing Dumbledore, his voice cutting across the rising babble from the portraits.
"Harry Potter needs to find something that may be hidden in the school," said Dumbledore. "But if he does that before...what I mean to say is, he may be able to avoid leading Tom here for the final confrontation."
Severus rolled his eyes. "Once again, telling me nothing at all. I wish for once you would be more terse about it."
"I left you some books that would have explained much, but..."
"Books that flew out the window," said Severus with a snort. "How convenient." He sat back in the chair.
Dumbledore smiled at Severus. "I'm certain you already know how you are going to convince Harry."
Severus sighed. "Show him my memories. It's just that...you understand that I'd rather be Cruciod by Bellatrix in front of the Dark Lord than show Potter any more of my memories."
Dumbledore said, "That memory he saw before, in the Pensieve, strengthened your credibility."
"Yes, yes; I understand the importance of my humiliation in defeating the Dark Lord."
"Severus..."
"Then again, I continue to hold out hope that Potter will get himself killed by the Dark Lord without any help from me."
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
"I've decided not to go to Aunt Muriel's with you lot," announced Toby.
Molly and Arthur, who had been readying their luggage in the kitchen, stopped their bustling about.
"Nonsense," said Molly. "As a house guest, you're practically invisible."
"As a house guest, I've been entirely useless," countered Toby. "You've been gracious. But I can't just sit and wait anymore. I need a task."
"Let's have some tea," said Arthur, rummaging in a box on the kitchen table to remove the kettle.
Moments later, the three sat at the table, steaming cups in front of them.
"It isn't because of Muriel, is it?" asked Molly.
"I remember at the wedding, you remarked on her comments about the 'Muggleborn,'" said Arthur.
Toby grinned and shook his head. "The way she looked at me, it was as if she could see through that glamour you cast on me and sense my Muggleness. But no; after what my own wife...I think I could ignore anything Muriel would say."
"I could talk to Kingsley Shacklebolt," said Arthur. "Maybe he could arrange to hide you with some other Muggles under the Order's protection. Like the Dursleys."
"The Dursleys?" Toby looked thoughtful. "I knew some Dursleys. Their son married the sister of a girl who was a friend of my son's when he was a boy."
Arthur's eyes widened. "Really?! What were the names of the..."
"Oh, Arthur!" Molly scoffed. "There are tens of millions of Muggles in Britain. What is the likelihood?"
"I'm not hiding any more," said Toby. "Not with wizards or Muggles." He looked at Molly and Arthur in turn. "What I intend to do may kill me, but...I can't continue on like this.
"I intend to clear my son's name."
The Weasleys stared at Toby.
"Why don't you wait until after the war?" asked Molly, her eyes compassionate.
Toby leaned back in his chair, quiet for a moment before continuing. "I was an angry young man. I'd work my arse off all day and come home to a miserable wife and an ungrateful son. I still think life is unfair, but I've accepted it, I guess. My son has made some bad decisions in his life, and maybe if I'd set a better example, he'd have been more sensible. But if there's anything I know for certain, it's that my son isn't evil. He was a clever and quiet boy who liked to read books. I wager he joined up with the murderous thugs because he thought he would look tougher than he was, or for protection, or to impress a girl - who knows? But he isn't the type himself, see? I've known blokes, and I've worked with blokes who would frighten the Krays, and my son is just not the type. It's the instinct of a dad. Am I making any sense?"
"You are," said Molly, eyes brimming.
"He killed Albus Dumbledore," said Arthur gently.
"I don't question what Harry Potter saw," said Toby. "He seems like a sensible and honest lad. But your magical world is full of tricks, and I don't think Harry Potter knows the whole story. I plan to contact my son and find out what really happened. If he...if he does not survive this, and I do, at least I would be able to set the record straight."
"You can't go on the grounds of the school," said Arthur. "There are Dementors, and..."
"I'm not stupid," said Toby. "I'll make my way to Hogsmeade, and make contact with my son, convincing him to come and see me. My wife and I stayed there before at a place where the owner didn't care to know our business, or that I'm a Muggle. I've already written to him." He held up a piece of stationery embossed with the letterhead:
Hogs Head Inn
Comfortable Rooms
Reasonable Rates
"It's rather a rude letter," continued Toby. "Aberforth - the owner - tells me I'm a complete imbecile, if I come there I'll die horribly, the town is overrun with people whose entire purpose in life is to torture the likes of me into insanity before chopping me up into pieces small enough to feed to vermin, and so on. And if I do come, make sure it's during the day, as there's a curfew, and wear wizard robes. Erm...could I borrow some?"
Arthur opened one of the suitcases and removed a heap of muddy-looking cloth. "You shouldn't attract too much attention in this," he said, shaking out the garment. "It's got an Inconspicuous Charm on it, causing it to change colours such that the wearer tends to blend into the scenery." As he passed it to Toby, its muddy hue shifted to match the wooden table.
Toby held it up against himself. "How well does it work if its wearer has bright red hair?"
Arthur chuckled. "When the hood is down, not so well."
Molly was frowning. "Be sure and keep the hood up. There's a family resemblance, and your son would be well-known in Hogsmeade."
"Really? I always thought he took after his mother." Toby was bent over his suitcase, tucking the robe inside, and missed most of the non-verbal argument between the Weasleys. He straightened to see Molly shaking her head while Arthur countered with vigorous nods and Gallic shrugs.
Toby smiled. "During one of his adolescent rages, my son said to his mother, 'Why did you have to marry a Muggle? A Muggle with THAT NOSE?? I'll keep it out of sight as much as possible. And I've got myself a pair of thick-framed glasses. Not very fashionable, but they obscure my profile somewhat. And even if anybody does notice a resemblance, how likely are they to think it's actually me?"
About seventy hours later, Toby stood on the front stoop of the Hogs Head, attempting to turn the doorknob. But it seemed to be jammed.
The doorknob disappeared from his hand as someone opened the door from the inside. A tall, thin man standing before him, straight-backed despite his advanced years, regarded him critically with bright-blue eyes. "Come off the street, you idiot," he hissed. "Anybody would know that nose anywhere."
Toby stepped inside and removed the heavy glasses from his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I am grateful..."
"Well, you shouldn't be," snapped Aberforth. "I knew there was no keeping you from sneaking into Hogsmeade any way you could. At least you're under my protection. But other than keeping you from being tortured to death - and I mean that literally - I can't help you. The Death Eaters have their own way of communicating. It's literally branded into them. There's no way of getting a message to your son."
"He's utterly isolated," said Toby sadly.
"He killed my brother," said Aberforth bluntly, but without malice, and he folded his arms, watching Toby closely.
Toby met Aberforth's gaze. "Tell me about your brother."
Aberforth let out a short, surprised laugh. "Well - he didn't deserve to die, did he?"
"But did he want to?" asked Toby reasonably.
Aberforth waved his wand about the room. "Don't ever say anything like that again until after I've cast an Imperturbable Charm." He went behind the bar to reappear moments later with a basket of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a bottle.
"I'll show you to your room. We'll talk in there."
Toby eyed the bottle. "I don't drink anything alcoholic."
Aberforth looked back at Toby in surprise. "That's not what I..."
"Not in fifteen years," said Toby firmly.
Aberforth nodded. "I'll fetch you some butterbeer." He continued to lead Toby up the stairs. "As I was saying, don't talk to anybody, and stay in your room. Your meals will be brought to you either by me, or by Dobby - that's the House elf."
The stairs opened to a sitting room. A single candle reduced to a puddle of wax guttered feebly on a side table. Glowing embers smouldered on a hearth beneath an oil painting cast in shadow by the darkness of the room and the edge of the mantle.
"I don't remember this room," remarked Toby.
"And you'll never see it again," said Aberforth, pushing through a door at the far side of the room to enter a narrow corridor that lead to the back staircase Toby remembered climbing on previous visits. Doors lead to small rooms on either side of the corridor. He looked back at the door they just passed through to see this sign:
Private
Do Not Enter
Privée
Ne Pas Entrer
Aberforth tapped on the sign with a long bony finger. "Heed this sign. No matter what you might hear."
"Why don't you just lock the door?" asked Toby.
"That's the fire exit, isn't it? Not good for business if my boarders burn to death."
Toby was about to reply that it would be equally bad for business if the entire building burned down when a loud crash sounded from the other side of the door.
"Hello?!" called a young male voice.
"Bloody Merlin," muttered Aberforth and turned to drop the basket of bread and cheese into Toby's arms, gesturing with the Firewhisky bottle. "Your room is second on the left. We'll have to talk later. When this war is over, I'll be billing their parents for all this food."
