It was just shy of 1:30 pm when Gauntlett brought Snape back into the courtroom. Harry looked up from his note cards when Snape was escorted at wandpoint back to the defendant's chair. "I don't think you need to have your wand pointed at him," he said mildly. "He's not a threat to anyone."
"We can't be too certain of that, can we, Mr Potter?" Rhoda strapped Snape in with practised efficiency. "It's surprising what these people think they can get away with. Why, just last week one of these Death Eaters tried to bite the Auror transporting him down from Azkaban."
"Can you leave his arms undone at least? I reckon he'd like to move around a little bit." The thought of sitting bound all day sounded like torture to Harry. Being unable to move, to get up and walk around a bit… He didn't know how Snape stood it.
"I'll do as you ask, but if he causes any trouble, it's back in chains for him." Gauntlett sent a tightly focussed spell at Snape and the chains around his forearms retracted. The belt around his waist tightened, though, as did the chains around his legs. "Mind, it's only because you asked," she said to a pronounced roll of the eyes from Snape. Lovely.
Once he and Snape were settled, Gauntlett ushered in jury and gallery alike. The rows and rows of benches filled quickly with the press back in the front row. The photographer from Witch Weekly was whispering to the bloke from the Wizarding Wireless Network and he laughed. Harry turned away, his ears burning even though he had no idea what they said.
As Harry opened his notebook, Kingsley and Percy filed back in. "We're back in session. Rhoda, do you have another witness for us?"
"Yes, sir, I do." Gauntlett disappeared for a moment through the tunnel that led to the public waiting area and returned with a tall, blonde woman. Her heavy satin cloak brushed the floor of the courtroom as she proceeded in, her head held high. "The Wizengamot calls Narcissa Black Malfoy."
Harry flipped through his book frantically to find the pages where her statements could be found and was relieved to note he didn't have that many questions for her. He tapped the book with his wand and the contents of the pages were duplicated onto the cards he held in his hand. Useful spell, that, but he understood why it wasn't taught at Hogwarts.
The butterflies started the moment he stood up, and Harry was acutely aware that he owed his life to this person. If she hadn't lied about him, there was no doubt in his mind he'd be dead—and that his second death would in no way be merciful.
"Thank you for coming, Mrs Malfoy," he said politely. "I only have a very few questions for you."
"You saved my son, Mr Potter, and I will never forget what I owe you. You may ask of me anything you wish and I will answer truthfully." Narcissa's eyes fell on Snape, but Harry couldn't tell what lay behind them. "I will consent to Veritaserum if you wish."
The only way to show the jury he trusted Narcissa to tell the truth was to decline her offer and Harry did so. "But it was kind of you to offer. How long have you known Severus Snape?"
"Straight into it, I see," replied Narcissa with a slight smile. "Very well. I've known Severus since the old days when the Dark Lord was at the height of his power. I knew of him before then. You see, I was some years ahead of him at Hogwarts, but my understanding was that he was something of a target for a small group of Gryffindor boys. Such stories tend to spread through Slytherin House. We watched to see how he acquitted himself."
Harry hadn't heard this before and his ears perked up. "And how did he acquit himself?"
"Better than one would anticipate. But I didn't come to know Severus until after he had taken the Mark." A pall fell over her and she gave an involuntary shiver. "He did not fit in with the others and despaired of earning the Dark Lord's favour, so he volunteered to apply for the Dark Arts post."
"The Defence Against the Dark Arts post?" asked Harry.
"So you say, Mr Potter. But Severus' true talent lay in crafting potions. Few are as skilled in the art as he is, so the Dark Lord was quite satisfied to know Severus had been offered the post of Potions Master instead. It enabled Severus to spy upon Albus Dumbledore and keep the Dark Lord informed of Dumbledore's plans."
"What of the Prophecy?"
A slight crease marred Narcissa's forehead. "What of it, Mr Potter?"
"Didn't Voldemort—" A sharp gasp sprang from Narcissa. "I'm sorry," continued Harry. "Would it help if I called him Tom?" Narcissa nodded. "Alright, didn't Tom begin to trust Snape when Snape delivered the first part of the Prophecy to him?"
Narcissa laughed, but there was no amusement in it. "Trust? Whatever trust Severus earned was destroyed when he begged for the life of Lily Evans. The only way Severus could atone was to risk his life to spy upon the headmaster, which he did splendidly. My sister was the only one of us who saw through him. Somehow she knew he was a traitor to the Dark Lord's cause, but none of us believed her." A note of pain entered her voice. "Bells did not fare well in Azkaban. By the time she escaped she was a bit mad. Remarkably enough, it turns out she was right after all. Severus was working for Dumbledore all along."
Saying Bellatrix was a bit mad was one way of putting it. Barking mad, more like. "But you trusted him anyway?"
"But even though your sister didn't trust him, you still trusted Snape enough to make the Unbreakable Vow with him, right? To keep your son safe?"
Colour leached from Narcissa's face and her eyes grew round. "I've never told...It never came up when the Aurors questioned me. How did you come to learn of the Vow we made?"
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a single syllable Kingsley stopped him. "Not a word, Mr Potter." Kingsley turned his attention to Narcissa, who was still staring a bit fearfully at Harry. "Tell the jury about the Unbreakable Vow between you and Snape."
Narcissa turned her head, but her eyes didn't follow. They remained fixed on Harry's face until finally she spoke. "It was the summer before Draco's sixth year. To atone for my husband's failure at the Department of Mysteries, the Dark Lord ordered Draco to kill Dumbledore. Should he fail at his appointed task, the Dark Lord would kill us all.
"I-I could not permit that to happen," she continued as she wrung her hand and stared down at her lap. "Severus was there at Hogwarts, working alongside the headmaster, in perfect position to carry out the Dark Lord's plan should my son not succeed."
"What were the conditions of the Vow?" asked Harry.
"To watch over Draco, to protect him from harm, and to…to carry out the deed should Draco fail," said Narcissa, her voice almost mechanical. "It was a horrible thing to ask of a child, especially one as foolish as my son, but his father believed that Draco would be able to restore the family honour so that the son could take the place of the father." Contempt filled her eyes. "Nothing can replace what was never there to begin with. The Malfoys will become a footnote in history, remembered only for what they failed to do." Her lips twisted with revulsion. "To think that we were once filled with pride at being Dark, for becoming Slytherin. They should burn that House to the ground."
The reporters began scribbling furiously rather than let their Quick Quote Quills do all the work and Harry could just imagine the next day's headlines. "'Destroy Slytherin House,' says Malfoy." "Burn It! Narcissa Malfoy Calls for Abolishment of Slytherin House." "Slytherin House Nest of Dark Magic Confesses Malfoy." As if McGonagall didn't have her hands full already. There was a groundswell of conversation; even members of the jury were whispering amongst themselves.
"Obviously, Snape kept his word," said Harry once the ruckus had died down. He took a step in the direction of the witness chair, but stopped abruptly and whirled to face Snape. He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "Is the Vow still in effect?" Snape's eyes widened.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Narcissa, perplexed.
Harry turned to face her, his brow furrowed. "The Unbreakable Vow. Is it still in effect? Is Snape still obligated to watch over Draco and protect him? I don't know how these things work, to be honest," he admitted.
"I—" Narcissa laid her hand at her throat, as befuddled as Harry. "I would think the Vow has been fulfilled, but in truth, Mr Potter, I'm afraid I don't know either." Both of them looked up at Kingsley, but he was frowning at Snape and seemed as confused as the rest of them.
"I will have someone from the Department of Mysteries examine Snape this afternoon," said Kingsley after a long moment's reflection. "They should be able to determine if the Vow's magic is still active. It's a good question, Harry, and I'm glad you asked it."
"Yeah, thanks." It would be just Harry's luck to go through with this farce of a trial just to have Snape keel over dead because Draco managed to do something stupid. He shook off the distraction and returned to where Narcissa sat patiently awaiting his next question.
"As I was saying, Snape keeps his word?"
"He does, Mr Potter. Whilst Severus might be the most cynical, biting, sarcastic man I've ever met, there is no question he is also the most loyal person I know." A soft smile graced her lips. "Severus is not the man one seeks out if in need of a warm shoulder. He coddles no one and he has little patience for those who are too dimwitted to see what is under their noses.
"He is, however, possessed of a keen mind and sharp intellect. His curiosity knows no bounds and he possessed a rare ability to act prudently and with great foresight. It is rare to see Severus put his foot wrong. If only he had developed such skills earlier in life. It would have spared him great heartache."
"What do you mean?"
"Severus has a tremendous capacity for love. Were you aware of that, Mr Potter?" said Narcissa. The lines of her face softened as she looked at Snape. "I will never forget how the Dark Lord laughed when Severus asked if it was entirely necessary to kill Lily Evans. All we needed was the boy, we all knew that, but Severus wouldn't hear of it. When the Dark Lord asked if he harboured some affection for her, if he wanted her, a Mudblood, Severus would only say they had been children together. The others taunted him mercilessly and he lost standing with our Lord, but Severus endured it for her sake.
"Something died in Severus that day. It was like watching the death of hope." Narcissa bowed her head for a moment, but when she looked up, her blue eyes were piercing and Harry felt himself being turned inside out by her gaze. "I've always wondered what Severus would have been like had he grown up with some understanding of what love should be. He always reminds me of some scraggly little plant clinging tenaciously to life because he knows no other way to be. Never enough food, never enough light, never enough warmth, spreading out shallow roots in all directions so as not to be torn asunder. Growing up between jagged rocks so he's not crushed underfoot, not entirely.
"I try to imagine from time to time what his life would be like were he tended properly. If the broken bits were pruned away, or supported properly so they could heal. If he were nurtured by someone who wanted only what was best for him. I would like to think that Severus would be strong enough to survive the shock to his system, that he would eventually grow strong and true."
Harry's heart pounded against his chest as Narcissa held his gaze, and then she snorted a small laugh. "Severus Snape loved Lily Evans enough to risk the Dark Lord's wrath and enmity. He spoke, knowing that to do so for someone like her, a…" She inhaled deeply through her nose and squared her shoulders. "…a Muggle-born, could mean his death."
There was little Harry could think to ask after that, so he moved to the stand and assisted her down, bowing slightly over her hand as he took it.
ssHPss
"I don't quite understand why I'm here, Mr Potter." Ollivander turned his strange blue eyes on Harry and blinked once. "Is there a question about Mr Snape's wand?"
Harry wasn't quite certain why Ollivander was there either, except his instincts said there was something that the man could contribute and Harry's instincts seldom steered him wrong. "I'm not quite certain either, but you know loads about wands, including the Elder Wand."
A chill seemed to settle over Ollivander. "It is not a wand I care to discuss. Now, if you'd like to know which wands are best for the healing arts or for Transfiguration, or which cores can aid the potioneer or duellist, well, I'm happy to answer those questions."
"Can you tell what a witch or wizard might be good at by their wand?" asked Harry. He recalled Ollivander describing Draco's wand as being 'reasonably pliant', which Harry interpreted as 'easily led by the nose', but he wasn't certain that's what Ollivander had meant.
"Oh, yes. For example, your father's wand was particularly well-suited for Transfiguration. I understand that he mastered the Animagus transformation at a remarkably early age. Your wand, Mr Potter, was a curious blend of Dark magic and restoration and rebirth. It is no wonder to me at all that it chose you. Given its affinity for you, I can safely say it will serve you well all the days of your life. I daresay it will never wilt, not if it remains in your hands."
As much as it pained Harry to do so, he asked the next question. "Do wands wilt?" As expected, a titter of embarrassed amusement sprinted through the courtroom.
Ollivander peered down his nose at him. "They do indeed. Wands lose their magic, hazel wands in particular. They are so loyal to their owners that once their owner passes, they will never work again. Upon rare occasion, the wand itself dies. Not even replacing the core can save it," he added sadly and Harry pictured him mourning over the wands he couldn't save.
"Did Snape purchase his wand at your shop?"
"I believe so," replied Ollivander uncertainly. "I recall the wands, every wand I ever made," he said with a note of pride. "I can examine any wand you choose to give me and I will know who it selected. Alas, I'm afraid I am not adept at remembering the wand when only presented with the wizard. As Snape is a potioneer, I—"
"Potions Master," said Harry firmly, though he wasn't at all positive there was a difference.
"A Potions Master," corrected Ollivander. He looked at Harry strangely. "I rather suspect his wand would be made of black walnut, black oak, or possibly rosewood. The core is most likely unicorn, though phoenix is possible, as is thestral, though none of my wands have that as a core."
There was something vaguely disturbing about the thought of Snape with a phoenix core in his wand. It was likely that Harry associated phoenixes with Dumbledore, and the last time Harry had seen his phoenix, Fawkes, was the night of Dumbledore's death.
"But the wand chooses the wizard," said Harry. "Would Snape have been as good at Potions with a different wand?"
Ollivander's eyebrows leapt up towards his hairline before settling back down in a long, straight line. "Intriguing question, Mr Potter. Would you have been able to produce a fully corporeal Patronus at thirteen with a different wand? You've used several wands, as I recall. You would know better than most what can and cannot be accomplished with a foreign wand in your hand. But would you have been better at Charms if you'd had a different wand? That's the sort of question that can keep a wandmaker up nights."
"And I'm certain you need your rest," said Harry and was surprised by a muffled outburst of laughter. A second later he realised he'd managed to call Ollivander old.
"Not all of us are young," remarked Ollivander.
Harry's cheeks flushed and he fiddled with his note cards for a moment whilst he stole a quick glance at Snape. As suspected, Snape's expression all but shouted 'idiot boy', but for once, Harry thought Snape might be right about that. "Once the wand chooses the wizard, does the wand stay loyal to him?"
Ollivander's gaze was keen. "Not always. Wands can be won if the wizard who wields it loses it in a contest of wills. 'To the victor go the spoils', have you heard that phrase before? A good number of witches and wizards duelled fiercely during this war. Many lost their wands and have found they no longer work as well for them as they once did. As I understand it, you defeated young Mr Malfoy. Do you still have his wand?"
"Yes," replied Harry after checking quickly to ensure he was free to answer. "I tried to return it, but he said it no longer worked for him. I just thought he got a new one."
"Once a wand's allegiance has been surrendered to someone else, it is very difficult to get it back." Ollivander leant forward and stared down at him with a strange gleam in his eyes. "Some wands will remain in a family to be passed from brother to brother, from father to son. But a wand that is defeated…that is a different forest altogether. Not only does the wizard lose the loyalty of his wand, he also loses the loyalty of any wand he has won as well."
"Let's say, hypothetically, if Severus Snape managed to disarm and kill a wizard, would that wizard's wand be loyal to Snape?"
Ollivander shot him a penetrating look. "I would say yes, the defeated wizard's wand would recognise Severus Snape as its new master."
"What if," said Harry slowly, "someone else disarmed the wizard before Snape killed him? Would Snape still be the wand's master? Or would the wand recognise the person who disarmed him?"
"These are very unusual questions, Mr Potter," said Ollivander. "The wand would belong to the person who first defeated the wizard."
"If you had to sum up Severus Snape in one word," said Harry, "which word would that be?" It was a peculiar question to ask and he knew it. It didn't speak of Snape's deeds or shed any light on the decisions Snape might have made, at least not as far as Harry could see.
Ollivander's eyes were razor sharp as they sliced deep into Harry's psyche, laying him bare. "Loyal." It was almost a pronouncement. "Loyal unto death, beyond imagining. The sort of loyalty of which legends are told."
A chill ran down Harry's spine. As always, Ollivander unnerved him. It was as if he could see beyond Harry into realms unknown and used the knowledge from there, but to what end Harry did not know. On the whole, he much preferred Luna Lovegood's outlook on the world. At least she didn't make him feel like he was peering into his own grave.
He felt Snape's eyes boring into him and peered over the top of his spectacles at him. There was wonderment on Snape's face and perhaps a touch of grudging respect. Warmth ran through Harry veins and he for a brief instant he wanted to cheer. But he confined his reaction to a broad smile and felt inordinately pleased. It was a very good ending to the day.
