The usual disclaimers apply
Chapter seven
Snape didn't know how long he had been sitting in his chair, staring into the fire he had lit against the evening chill, his thoughts running in circles, when suddenly the flames turned green and the bald head of a black man appeared in the grate. Snape froze, then sighed wearily, and he and the head exchanged a long, mute stare.
"What?" Snape finally snapped in lieu of a greeting.
"Good evening, Severus. I'm glad you kept your fireplace connected to the floo-network, it makes things easier."
Snape grimaced and cursed inwardly. He had forgotten to sever the connection after his visit to Hogwarts. The head continued, businesslike.
"I'm calling to tell you that we received information about an exceptionally massive volume of magic in your neighbourhood, Severus, and I wondered if you were involved somehow. Our sensors registered an undefined outbreak, a levitation spell and even two traces of Dark Magic and..."
Snape interrupted him with a harsh, ugly parody of a laugh,
"Of course I was involved. Who else could be responsible for Dark Magic but Severus Snape, the former Deatheater? What are you going to do now, Mr Head Auror? Cast me into Azkaban?"
"Severus…"
"Here you are. Come through, arrest me, take me where most of the wizarding population think I belong anyway."
Snape had risen from his chair, stepping close to the fireplace, his hands outstretched, wrists crossed.
"Oh, come on Severus, don't be ridiculous. I've come to talk with you. You are familiar with the procedure, you know about the magic alerts outside wizarding communities and that we have to investigate these incidents and prevent them from being noticed by Muggles. Today, thanks to the initiative of the auror on duty, our people arrived in time, well before the Muggle police and managed to sort things out and convince them to leave everything to us. When I was informed about the incident and read the report I thought it better to handle this particular case discreetly and do the investigation myself, knowing that it had happened near your place and that you are not overly keen on being dragged into the limelight. So, can I come through now and discuss this with you?"
Snape returned to his chair, grunting a reply that could be taken for an affirmative and lit the candles in the room with a flick of his wand. Shortly afterwards a tall black man, clad in robes of a rich blue colour, stepped out of the fireplace. He nodded a greeting, did a quick survey of the room and sat down on the sofa. The two men watched each other warily. At last the visitor broke the silence.
"Minerva told me something about a young boy, a Muggle-born wizard not yet at Hogwarts, living in the house next to yours."
Again a grunt was the only answer. The black man took it for a 'yes'.
"So it was him who released the magic?"
Snape closed his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to keep the beginnings of a headache at bay.
"Yes, it was him. He was attacked and tormented by a group of youngsters and couldn't control the outbreak of magical energy, which would have caused serious damage if I had not intervened. It was an emergency, Kingsley, I simply had no choice but to use magic myself."
"Unforgivables?"
"Mild ones."
"Unforgivables all the same, Severus. They are illegal."
"As I said, Kingsley, I had no choice. How was I to explain the levitation spell I had used to the Muggle mob? Obliviate doesn't work with a crowd. There were going to be questions. If I hadn't cast Imperius Curses on the most obstinate of the Muggles Nathan and I wouldn't have been able to slip away so easily; we would have got into trouble."
Kingsley harrumphed and shook his head.
"That's all very well, but a situation like this still doesn't legitimize the use of Unforgivables, Severus. The penalty is a stint in Azkaban, as I'm sure you know…"
"So I was right. Why don't you stop beating around the bush then? Arrest me, get it over and done with."
Snape's visitor held up a soothing hand and continued.
"… in this case, however, there may be an alternative… Well, we'll come to that later. Back to the boy. Did you tell him about his magic?"
"Yes, I did," Snape answered gruffly.
"This is against the Statute of Secrecy, Severus."
"I know."
"You should have consulted the Ministry first."
"I know."
"Then why didn't you do it, man?"
Snape hit the armrest of his chair with his fist, raising a fine cloud of dust.
"Merlin's beard, Kingsley, who's being ridiculous now? Have you turned into such a brainless, pedantic paper-pusher? The boy was here with me, sitting in the same spot where you are sitting now; he had just witnessed this, as you called it 'massive volume of magic', he was injured, he was confused. Should I have ignored his well-being for the sake of a pile of red-bloody-tape? It was past four o'clock on a Friday afternoon. Should I have sent the boy home without an explanation while attempting to contact the Ministry, hoping to find the official in charge still at their bloody desk and willing to embark on the lengthy and complicated process of writing out a bloody permit for pre-Hogwarts-letter information? Or should I have made Nathan cope with his traumatic experience alone all through the weekend, waiting to hopefully get the permit on Monday?"
He was leaning forward, a shaking forefinger pointed into the black man's face accusingly. His visitor stared back in silence, the twitching of a muscle in his jaw the only sign of tension. Taking a deep, ragged breath Snape continued.
"Instead I made him tea and sandwiches, I healed his injuries, and you can't but agree that it was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate a harmless little spell and to tell him about magic. I just preferred not to waste time by asking permission of your lot first."
Kingsley shifted his position, instinctively inching away from Snape's aggressive presence.
"I see. Very well, Severus, what's done cannot be undone, so we must try to make the best of the situation. Do his parents know?"
"He lives with his mother. She doesn't know."
"She has to be informed as well."
Snape nodded and shrugged, leaning back again in his chair, closing his eyes against his headache.
"As to the further procedure…" The black wizard moved to a more comfortable position and crossed his legs, pulling a manila envelope from the inside pocket of his robes. "The boy is…what? nine years old? That means, as you've already mentioned, first of all we need a special permit. I've brought along the papers, ready for you to sign. I have also brought our latest brochure for Muggle parents and the form the boy's mother has to fill in and sign, confirming to adhere to the Statue of Secrecy. With her signature she will be granted auxiliary status automatically."
Snape opened his eyes and frowned in disbelief.
"No questioning by an official, no ceremony at the Ministry any longer?"
Kingsley smiled.
"Due to the fact that we've been getting more and more Muggle-born young wizards since the war and that the Ministry is chronically short-staffed, we abolished these old-fashioned, time-consuming ceremonies in favour of a quicker, more direct approach."
Snape snorted disapprovingly. Kingsley shrugged.
"I admit that it is a very mundane business this way, lacks all the pomp and circumstance, but it simplifies things considerably. Anyway, what I wanted to say is that the boy will need a mentor until he is old enough to go to Hogwarts. Minerva doubts that Professor Gnatbat is up to the job and suggests that you should do it. Are you willing to take on the task?"
Snape stared into the fire, ignoring his visitor. Was he willing? The first answer that came to his mind was a definite 'no'. But then… telling Nathan about magic and teaching him the spell had been… pleasant. The boy was a quick learner… This, however, had been just one afternoon. Being a mentor would mean deeper commitments. He would have to establish regular contact with the boy and with his mother. Did he really want to do this? Did he want to give up his independence for them?
"I don't think I'm capable of doing it, Kingsley."
"Why not, Severus? I must say I agree with Minerva. You are the ideal choice, you live next door, the boy knows you."
"I'm a cripple."
The black wizard fidgeted uncomfortably and scratched his head. When he answered, there was an extra dose of encouraging brightness in his voice.
"Well, Severus, I don't think that you need to be able to beat the speed record in broom flying or … what is this competition that is becoming more and more popular with Muggles? Ah, yes, marathon. You don't need to be able to run a marathon in order to monitor and instruct the boy, and as far as I know your mental capacities were not affected by your injuries. You should be perfectly capable of doing it."
"No." Snape replied bluntly, still staring into the fire.
"Merlin's beard, Severus, you've been a teacher for almost two decades, you can do it with your eyes closed and both of your hands tied behind your back."
"A teacher! Oh yes, as everyone can confirm I was an exceptionally fine specimen of a teacher. Students hated me and I despised them."
"That was due to the circumstances. Now you can…"
"That was due to who I am, Kingsley."
"You played a role."
"I'm afraid you overrate my acting skills. The person the students hated and feared – that was really I."
During the entire dialogue Snape had not looked up from the fire once. Leaning back, his hands behind his neck, the black man sighed and regarded Snape's profile – the large nose half hidden by the greasy curtain of hair – thoughtfully.
"Severus… as much as I regret having to resort to methods like these… believe me, I really don't like to do what I'm going to do now… but… you're leaving me no choice…"
Kingsley paused, waiting for his ominous words to evoke some reaction, but Snape kept staring into the flames. His visitor cleared his throat.
"These Imperius Curses you used…"
Snape's head turned sharply.
"Yes?"
"Well, you see, we could forget they were cast… sometimes the sensors give false alarm, we could put it down to that and nobody would ask awkward questions… if you agreed to look after Nathan."
"This is blackmail."
"Yes," Kingsley agreed affably, "but I believe in the old the-end-justifies-the-means-routine, Severus. Minerva is absolutely convinced that you are the best man for the job and I think we should do everything to ensure that the best man gets the job."
Snape snorted contemptuously.
"Or would you rather go to Azkaban for a while?"
Running a tired hand across his face, his lips pressed into a thin line, Snape lifted his head, staring scornfully at the other man.
"Azkaban may not be the hellhole it was ten or twenty years ago, but it still is not a pleasant place to stay, Severus. "
"I'm sure a few weeks' residence there wouldn't kill me. And if it did…" Snape shrugged.
"Don't be so pigheadedly stupid, man!"
"Do you think that bullying me into taking on the task is a good start for the job at hand?"
Kingsley smiled wryly and rose to his feet.
"Well, sometimes it takes a bit of – incentive to make someone come to the right decision. Think it over, Severus, I'm sure you'll see what is best for the boy – and for you – in the end. I'm leaving you the paperwork, read it through, talk to the boy's mother and send it back as soon as it is completed. If there are further questions, you can always contact me at my floo extension."
He held out the envelope; and when Snape made no move to take it, he put it on the table, nodded once and stepped into the fireplace.
