The Iron Sole Alchemist Goes to Hogwarts (Chapter 30) Good Intentions
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to any of the universes, places, or characters, and only claim the protagonist, Sloth, and Loki as my own creation. This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
Hagrid and Buckbeak's plight seemed to turn Harry's thoughts away from revenge. Protecting and aiding his friends in the here and now took priority for Harry. We got armloads of books from the library and found somewhere quiet to study and try to find something that would help Hagrid's case. As we studied volumes of wizarding case law, I decided that the occlumency lessons had proceeded far enough that I could safely pass on some important information.
"I have something that might help us prepare a case in time," I said. "The thing is, I'm not supposed to tell you about it, and I'm not sure how much trouble I'd be in for telling you."
"Greed, don't!" exclaimed Hermione. "You heard what Hagrid said. This isn't about school rules. This is wizarding law!"
"That's why I want to make sure you can keep a secret," I said. "Snape can't get at things you don't want him to, right? You're all at the point of just making your false thoughts more believable?"
"Yeah," said Harry cautiously. Ron nodded.
"Okay, this is a time turner," I said, pulling the hourglass pendant from under my robes. "It lets me go back in time in one hour increments. I've been using it to get to my classes that are scheduled at the same time as each other."
"You've had this all year?" asked Ron.
"Professor Mcgonagall made it very clear using them for anything but getting to class was against the law," said Hermione. "We aren't even supposed to tell people we have them."
"I knew there was something funny about your schedule," said Ron.
"Point is," said Sloth, picking up on my plan, "none of us are legal experts, and we don't have enough free hours in the day to become legal experts."
"Back in time?" asked Harry.
"You can't use it to change history," I said. "I checked."
"You checked?" asked Hermione paling. "Were you even listening when Professor McGonagall told us about the horrible things that happened to wizards who tampered with time? All those wizards who killed their past or future selves?"
"I needed more details," I said. "And I took precautions. I'm writing up a paper on my experiments and what I learned if you want to read it."
"Of course you are," said Ron.
"So you're saying we can use this to do the research for Buckbeak's case and not have to miss any of our classes or run out of time to manage our homework," concluded Harry. "That's amazing. And I was starting to think helping Hagrid with Buckbeak would mean not getting to do anything else over the holiday."
Between the time turner, Ron's extensive knowledge of wizarding law, and Sloth's ability to assimilate knowledge from books using red stones (an ability I particularly missed since losing my soul) we'd prepared a legal brief that was sure to get Buckbeak off if the judge was willing to listen at all. Hagrid called it the best Christmas present he could hope for when we dropped it off on Christmas eve.
Christmas morning came with a pile of gifts at the foot of my bed. There were a thousand different exotic sweets from Honeydukes. Luna had sent me five years worth of back issues of the Quibbler so I'd have something to read all alone in the empty Ravenclaw common room over the holiday. A large package from Mrs. Weasley contained some home made baked goods and a hideous orange sweater. I smiled and pulled it over my head.
Sloth had sent me a small metal disk with a transmutation circle on it. As soon as it opened, Sloth's voice came out of it. "This is a kind of alchemy powered recording device. I made it using the same technique you used for the chess men. You can tell it to record or play back any sound, and I gave it a perfect memory. You can tell me how much you like it and how impressed you are when you meet me at the front gate. I love you."
"I wouldn't have even thought of that," I said, turning the object over in my hand. Getting up, I headed downstairs to meet her, Loki happily trotting along behind me.
Sloth was wearing a sweater so pink my eyes took a minute to confirm she wasn't somehow on fire. She was holding the sneakoscope I'd bought her for her dorm room bed stand and getting a good look at the small, glass top.
"I love you, too," replayed my new recording device, drawing Sloth's attention.
"I see you got a sweater too," she said, taking a look at me.
"Yep," I said. "I guess helping rescue Ginny last year made us an honorary part of the family."
"There you two are!" called out Ron. He, Harry, and Hermione rushed over to us.
"You won't believe what happened," said Harry. "Luna was right!"
"Wait, right about what?" I asked.
"Scabbers," said Hermione.
"I still can't believe it," said Ron.
"Can you start over from the top?" asked Sloth, as confused as I was.
"Well, it all started around midnight," began Harry. "We were asleep in bed, and suddenly there are these loud whistles and shrieks that wake me and Ron right up."
"It turned out our presents were being delivered by house elves," said Harry.
"I have so many questions for the Headmaster about that," interjected Hermione.
"And it wasn't just any house elves," continued Harry. "One of them was Dobby, the one I'd helped from last year. Anyway, apparently someone sent us a bunch of sneakoscopes."
"That would be me," I confirmed.
"And they went crazy when the house elves brought them in," continued Harry. "The house elves thought they'd done something wrong and tried to punish themselves for it. I had a time of calming them down."
"Meanwhile, Scabbers freaks out and bolts out of the door," continued Ron. "As soon as he's gone, the sneakoscopes all turn off."
"So he really was an evil rat?" asked Sloth.
"And he ran off now that we were on to him," added Hermione. "We looked, but couldn't find him."
"I need to talk to Percy when he gets back," said Ron. "Ask where he got him from in the first place. And to think, I was considering using what you've been teaching me this year to extend his lifespan."
We continued to speculate on what Scabbers was and what he was up to, but there just wasn't enough information to get anywhere with that line of thought. I instructed my suits of armor to capture Scabbers on sight and bring him to me, just in case the rat was still somewhere in the castle.
When the five of us arrived at the Great Hall, the House tables had been moved asside, and a smaller table at which Dumbledore, Flitwick, Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, Filch, and three students I didn't immediately recognize were seated.
"Merry Christmas," said Dumbledore. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the house tables. Sit down, sit down."
"Professor, we have something to report," said Ron without sitting down. "My rat, Scabbers is missing. I know this sounds strange, but he ran off after triggering a bunch of sneakoscopes. I don't know what it means, but with everything that's been going on this year..."
"Thank you for bringint hits to my attention, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore gravely. "If your pet should turn up, I would be most interested to examine him. In the meantime, have a seat."
Again without sitting, Hermione asked, "Where did this food come from?" Her tone was accusatory. She'd never taken that tone with a teacher, let alone the headmaster.
"The kitchen staff prepared it as they have for the past century or more," replied Dumbledore simply. "I expect they shall feel insulted if we let it go to waste."
"Miss Granger, what has gotten into you?" asked McGonagall.
"Slavery!" yelled Hermione. "Slave labor made this food, didn't it? The Malfoys keeping house elves, I understood, but I never thought my own school would be involved in something so despicable!" Hermione stormed out furiously. She'd obviously been holding that in until the warning about Scabbers had been relayed.
Hermione stormed right past Professor Trelawney, who'd arrived at just that moment.
"I'll go talk to her," offered Ron, following after Hermione. The rest of us sat down at the table,barring Trelawney, who was staring horrified at the table.
"The Hogwarts house elves are quite well treated," said Dumbledore. "Some, like Harry's friend Dobby, are already free elves, employed with pay and benefits. The others are all aware that freedom is theirs for the asking. I do hope you aren't letting this quite understandable misunderstanding ruin our dinner together. Have a seat, Sybill."
"I dare not, Headmaster!" exclaimed Trelawney, still staring transfixed at the table. "If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"
"We'll risk it Sybill" said McGonagall, not quite rolling her eyes. "Do sit down. The turkey's getting stone cold."
Trelawney hesitated a moment longer, then took her seat. There was some sniping between Trelawney and McGonagall, but Dumbledore put a stop to it. The conversation returned to the house elves. Apparently, they generally considered being freed to be akin to being sacked in disgrace. They took a great deal of pride in their work, and further pride still in imposing as little as possible on their employers. When Dobby had been hired, the house elf had aggressively negotiated his salary down.
I resolved to verify this with Dobby and the other house elves. I wasn't particularly more comfortable with slavery than Hermione was. Dinner was otherwise uneventful until Harry picked up some food for Ron and Hermione and got up to bring it to them.
Professor Trelawney took Harry by his hands and said, "My boy. My dear, brave boy. You have already seen your fate was sealed, and now you rise first to prove it."
"The only difference Harry rising first will make is if a mad axe man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall," said McGonagall, still without quite rolling her eyes at Trelawney's prophecy.
Sloth and I departed as well to look for the kitchens. Everything the small army of house elves said lined up with Dumbledore's earlier statements. Even Dobby, who was wearing clothes rather than altered tea towels, and thus was free from magical compulsions against saying things against their master, verified what Dumbledore had said. The Malfoys had been cruel to him, and he was glad to be free, but the others were happier still not being freed.
By the time we left, we had house elves so thoroughly praising us for our generosity of spirit for coming down and asking their opinions on things that we were both incredibly uncomfortable. We thanked them for their time politely, eliciting further howls of praise from the diminutive creatures over our basic courtesy, and left.
"I don't know how to feel about this," admitted Sloth when we were alone.
"I'm with you," I said, blinking. "I mean, they seem happy, but they act like basic courtesy toward them is the mark of a saint."
"Maybe we give it some time," suggested Sloth. "Wait until we understand better before deciding what to do."
Hermione, however, had made a firm decision. She was flatly refusing to eat anything prepared by the house elves, so Sloth and I expanded our lab garden and started quick growing food so she wouldn't starve herself. Ron was feeling worried and betrayed about Scabbers, who hadn't turned up. Harry was again stuck trying to deal with them, though fortunately, this time they weren't mad at each other. Still, everyone was happier when the term started up again and the other students returned.
Harry was being observed at his Quidditch matches closely, but within the walls of the castle, the staff had quit following him around. As a result, our fencing and parseltongue lessons could resume. Ron threw himself into his alchemy training as a welcome distraction from Scabbers. Snape's occlumency instruction resumed as well, though it seemed Sloth and I, at least, were reaching the limit of what could be done with the discipline.
In the first week back, Harry let us know he would need to miss our fencing lesson one day a week as Professor Lupin was teaching him to fight dementors in case of another attack next Quidditch game. I hadn't been invited, and I didn't ask to be. My powers were so different from Harry's that trying to train both of us at once was bound to be doomed to failure.
Instead, I attended the fencing lessons as usual, then got my invisibility cloak from my trunk, used my time turner, and went to invisibly observe the lesson. Professor Lupin had procured a boggart to practice with. Since Harry was terrified of dementors, that is what this boggart would become.
"So," said Lupin, "the spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry. Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."
"How does it work?" asked Harry.
"Well, when it works correctly, it conjures a Patronus, which is a kind of anti-dementor. A guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor.
"The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon, hope, happiness, the desire to survive, but it cannot feel despiar as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."
"What does a Patronus look like?"
"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."
"And how do you conjure it?"
"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."
"Right," said Harry.
"The incantation is this: Expecto Patronum!"
They practiced he wand motion and incantation, with Harry eventually producing a silvery mist the same color as the spectral phoenix Dumbledore had used to save me from the dementors. Then Lupin opened the case containing the boggart, and the wave of cold and despair flooded the room. It wasn't quite as intense as the real thing, but it was still overwhelming, and I found I had collapsed when Lupin forced the boggart back into the case.
I nibbled on some chocolate under my cloak while Harry and Lupin set up to try again. Twice more they tried it, before Harry managed to keep the wispy silver cloud hanging in the air. With the mist there, I managed to avoid being overwhelmed, and saw the dementor unable to pass the mist, as though it was solid.
While the training proceeded, Harry and Lupin talked. Apparently, Lupin had been a friend of Harry's father back when they were in school. He'd been hit hard by Sirius Black's betrayal.
When the lesson was over, I slipped back to the Ravenclaw common room to see if I could apply what I had learned.
While I worked on the dementor problem, Sloth was working with Hermione on the house elf problem. Sloth was always better than I was at political matters. Keeping Hermione fed was also good practice for both Sloth and Ron's bio alchemy. Sloth ended up strong arming Hermione into using her time turner to get more sleep, since the Gryffindor was running herself ragged with her full class load and house elf advocacy efforts.
They tried several times to interview the house elves in the kitchens, but kept being thwarted and sent away carrying cakes and sweets the house elves gave them and looked like they were going to punish themselves when they tried to refuse. Ultimately they changed tactics and hired Dobby as a consultant. As a result, they got to witness, first hand, the elf's negotiating tactics.
Between Dobby's explanations and their own research, they learned a great deal about the house elves and their situation. The house elves possessed a powerful magic of their own, in some ways greater than that of the wizards they served. Despite the wards blocking wizards from apparating in Hogwarts, house elves could do so freely. The magic which bound them to their masters was equally potent. If issued an order by their master, a house elf must obey. They can try to twist the order, and can act on their own when no order contradicts them, but they cannot disobey.
Culturally, house elves pride themselves on the services they provide. It takes a great deal of abuse for a house elf to even want to be free of their family, to the point that some wizards actually threaten to free their elves when dissatisfied with their service. The other house elves in Hogwarts look down on Dobby because of his being a free elf.
Mistreatment of house elves is common, and due to the nature of the relationship, often goes undetected. Wizard laws technically provide punishments for extreme abuse of house elves, but enforcement of those laws has varied considerably over the years. During the last wizarding war, when Voldemort was at the height of his power, every ministry resource had been dedicated to fighting him, leaving the house elves to fend for themselves. Voldemort's defeat had meant a return to normal operations for the Ministry, and thus improved things significantly for the house elves.
Hogwarts was apparently one of the better options, which was why Dobby chose to work here. Even under the nastiest headmasters, the combination of benevolent ghosts and ubiquitous living portraits meant that any abuses were reported and dealt with quickly. After a month of discussions, Hermione went back to eating the school food with everyone else and apologized to Dumbledore, who waved it off, noting she'd taken a stand out of compassion, something he hardly wanted to discourage.
Complicated as the situation was, there was one obvious ethical course of action, which Sloth and Hermione pursued while they pondered the larger issues. The laws against mistreating house elves weren't being enforced nearly strongly enough, especially against old, wealthy, powerful families like the Malfoys. A petition was being prepared for the Ministry demanding they improve enforcement, which they hoped to carry door to door on the next Hogsmeade trip. They'd already collected signatures from several teachers and recruited a number of students to help with the signature gathering. As a second prong to their efforts, Sloth transmuted a significant quantity of gold, which would be provided to the Ministry to pay for the additional enforcement efforts if they accepted the petition's proposals.
The main hangup was naming their advocacy organization. Hermione's first attempt was awkward and unwieldy, while her second had the unfortunate acronym of SPEW (Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare). The naming discussion was tabled after that in order to get on with the work.
I arrived at the Quidditch field to root against Harry and make sure he didn't die. After the first match, the dementors hadn't attacked a Quidditch match. I was under no illusion that my pitiful efforts had contributed in the least. This time, I was ready for them, though. I'd learned enough eavesdropping on Lupin's lessons with Harry to prepare a defense, and I had a vague idea of how I might hurt the amortal entities.
Palm readings I'd been doing in Diviniation kept pointing towards grief and guilt caused by rash actions, which had me nervous as I took my seat. It was a long game with a lot of twists and reversals, which helped take my mind off the prophecies. Then I saw them, three dementors coming onto the field and hte predictions rushed back to the forefront of my mind. I mustn't act rashly or it would come to grief.
My hesitation meant Harry had to take action on his own in the skies above. A great silver stag burst from his wand and charged at the black cloaked creatures. Terrified, they staggered backward and fell in a heap. The stag snorted at them and disappeared. The figures that struggled out of the heap of robes were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain. If I'd enacted my plan believing them to be dementors, they would all be dead. My choice to take Divination this year had saved their lives.
I quickly marked that down as an accurate prophecy in my notes on my way back to Ravenclaw tower for the evening. I'd been keeping track of what was predicted, when, and by whom all year. Professor Trelawney's were the most accurate, with even her duds possibly just referring to things that hadn't happened yet. Sloth and I were also doing remarkably well, far better than random chance, and we were getting more accurate as we went. I would have thought this meant the subject was an objective science like potions, but for the fact that studious, logical Hermione was struggling.
After dealing with the irritatingly obvious door riddle, "Where do vanished objects go?" with "Nowhere. They just don't exist anymore," I sat down at the desk with my arithmancy book and my woodworking tools. I stayed up all night constructing a new wand, accounting for the magical correspondences between the wood, the core, and the measurements. As a result, I was the only one up when Professor Flitwick entered the tower.
"Marcus? What are you doing still up?"
"I got to working on this," I said, holding up the new wand, "and I guess I lost track of time."
"Well, I need to tell you, no one is to leave the tower tonight. The other teachers and I don't want to raise a panic, but I think you can handle hearing the truth. Sirius Black managed to get inside the Gryffindor dorms. Fortunately, those boys had enough sneakoscopes set up to make Mad Eye Moody call them paranoid, and Black fled. No one was hurt, but we're searching the school now."
"I understand. Thank you, Professor."
I learned the next day that Black had gotten into Grffindor tower by somehow getting a list of passwords that Neville had written down and lost. In response, McGonagall had banned him from Hogsmeade trips, forbidden anyone from telling him any new passwords, and thrown in a detention for good measure.
"It isn't fair, McGongall blaming you," I said as I crossed blades with Neville in the Chamber of Secrets. "Security for all the common rooms is a joke. It's supposed to keep out pranksters. The rest of the school's security is supposed to keep out murderers."
"I just couldn't remember them. He changed them so often," replied Neville.
"And that's part of what makes passwords less secure," I said, probing for an opening in his defenses. "And didn't anyone think of telling the portraits what Black looks like so they can deny him entry, password or no password?"
I raised my blade a bit too high and Neville's blade of red light passed harmlessly through my midsection in a move that would have gutted me if the weapon wasn't in training mode. Sir Nicholas called a point to Neville.
"It's a good thing you got us all those sneakoscopes for Christmas or I reckon Harry wouldn't have survived the night," said Neville. "I saw Black on the way out. He had a knife."
"I want to know why none of my suites of armor saw him anywhere coming or going," I said. "They're stationed at every entrance, including the secret ones that are only on Harry's map."
"I've been patrolling since the first attack," reported the basilisk. "If I'd seen Black, I'd have petrified him."
"Thank you for trying," said Ginny. "We just have to keep our guard up."
I faked low and managed a strike on Neville's head, evening the score between us.
"Have you checked your map to make sure Black's not hiding somewhere inside the school?" asked Luna. "Since none of the armor guarding the entrances saw him."
Harry dropped his guard and was scored against by Ron. He quickly got out the Marauder's Map and checked it over. "No," he reported. "No sign of him on the map."
"So, unless he's in a chamber like this," noted Sloth, "he's hiding out somewhere off the grounds."
"You should turn that map in, Harry," said Hermione. "The teachers need to know about the secret passage to Hogsmeade."
"We can make them a mundane copy," I suggested. "That way, they can secure the passages, and no one needs to know what the real map can do."
"But you already secured them," argued Ron. "You put up those suits of armor."
"Which Black can apparently walk right past," noted Sloth. "Maybe he has an invisibility cloak."
"Snape figures he must be getting help from someone inside the school," I said. "He suspects Lupin. Maybe if we talk to them, we'll get more clues."
"Well, we're already meeting Snape for occlumency," said Harry. "That's as good a time to ask him as any."
"I do hope Mr. Longbottom's nearly fatal mistake was instructive for all of you," drawled Snape when we met for our occlumency lessons. "I can teach you to shield your thoughts, resist veritasyrum, and cast out possession, but none of that will make any difference if you carelessly leave information lying around. Notes, diaries, confiding secrets in the wrong person. All of the occlumency training in the world won't preserve the secrets you aren't committed to keeping."
"You're not talking about Neville," said Harry. "You're talking about my parents making Sirius Black their Secret Keeper."
"Well, well, you have been busy sticking your nose where it doesn't belong this year," replied Snape.
"You're also talking about Professor Lupin," I added. "Dumbledore doesn't want you saying anything, but you think he's helping Black."
Snape's eyes narrowed. "My opinion on the matter should have been simple enough to pick up, but how did you discover the headmaster's?"
"We overheard you talking on Halloween," said Ron.
"We won't tell Dumbledore you said anything if that's what you're worried about," said Sloth.
"What did I just get through saying about trusting the wrong person?" snapped Snape. "What in the world makes you so sure you can trust me?"
"Nothing," said Neville. "You've got every reason to want to isolate Harry from people who can actually protect him. Black isn't You-Know-Who's only servant outside Azkaban."
"And if I were the one helping Black," hissed Snape, "you've all been incredibly foolish letting yourselves be alone with me and then outright telling me your suspicions."
"If whoever is after Harry could move openly against Harry, they'd have done it by now instead of waiting for Black," said Ginny.
"Besides," said Luna cheerfully, "Neville never would have agreed to these lessons unless Slytherin's basilisk was watching."
On cue, the massive serpent from the Chamber of Secrets opened a parseltongue locked secret passage and fully entered the potions classroom, towering over Snape.
"T-That creature-" stuttered Snape.
"Protects the school," said Harry coolly. "The school and all the students in it. Salazar Slytherin was worried about traitors making an invasion of the school possible. She was his answer." Harry patted one of the basilisk's coils.
"If it turns out we can't trust you," said Neville, "she'll make you regret it."
"Well, this should be excuse enough," mused Snape as he sank into his chair. "If you do go to the Headmaster, I'm quite sure he shall excuse my telling you my suspicions now that you've threatened me with a thousand year old basilisk in pink earmuffs. Remus Lupin is a werewolf."
"We already know that," said Hermione. "You got us looking for the signs with your defense essay."
Snape smiled. "I'd hoped someone would be able to put the pieces together. But, yes, there's more than that. Lupin has been a werewolf ever since he was at school, where he was best friends with Sirius Black."
"And with my dad," said Harry, defensively. "Black betrayed all of them."
"Then why wasn't Lupin at Petigrew's side when he went after Black?" asked Snape. "Lupin was a far better duelist than Petigrew, and their chances would have been better two on one."
"Why weren't you there?" asked Harry. "You can duel and you owed my father a life dept."
"A life debt?" asked Snape, mockingly. "Where in the world would you get such a ridiculous idea?"
"From Dumbledore," said Harry. "He told me about how my father saved your life."
A dangerous look flashed in Snape's eyes, and he lowered his voice so it could be further laced with venom. "And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life? Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears? I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter. Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you. Your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. Certainly nothing worth a life debt. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts."
"And Professor Lupin was in on this?" asked Hermione.
"In on it?" asked Snape, amused. "He was the key to the whole thing. This amusing prank involved tricking me into visiting a certain location on the full moon."
Snape let that sink in for a long moment before saying, "Now the Headmaster has me brewing a wolfsbane potion so that our dear defense professor can retain his sanity during the full moon and not become a danger to the students. He can just change, curl up in his office, and sleep off his time while the rest of us pick up his slack."
"If there was no life debt," asked Harry, "why did Professor Dumbledore say there was?"
"To give me an excuse for saving you from the Dark Lord," said Snape. "It was my role to hate you, to be unfairly biased against the Boy Who Lived in a double potions class with the Slytherins, in front of all the children of former Death Eaters."
"Death Eaters?" asked Sloth.
"The name the Dark Lord gave his servants," clarified Snape. "They had to believe Iw as on their side if I was to act as a spy, and you had to believe the worst of me as well if the plan was to have any chance of succeeding. Your mind was an open book before your occlumency lessons."
"That explains how you acted with Harry," said Neville. "What about me?"
"You, Longbottom," said Snape, "are a danger to yourself and others. You melted your cauldron on the first day of class trying to make a simple boil cure. If I didn't watch you like a hawk every second you were in my class, I could have counted the survivors of your incompetence on my one remaining hand. There has been nothing unfair about my treatment of you."
Neville's confidence deflated in an instant. He blushed hotly and stared at his shoes.
"You've been spying on his servants and antagonizing Harry to keep up your cover?" said Hermione. "Why tell us?"
"Firstly, Miss Granger, because I am being threatened with a basilisk," said Snape, dryly. "Secondly, because I need you all to grasp how important it is that everyone continue believing we are enemies. The headmaster is the only person fully aware of my position, and it needs to stay that way. If you were to come to the conclusion that I didn't want Harry dead, and you didn't know you had to hide that information..."
"Why don't you want me dead?" asked Harry, drawing looks from the rest of us. "What? It's a legitimate question. He's been holding on to a grudge against my father twelve years after he died."
"Your father was a bullying, strutting delinquent who went out of his way to make my life miserable the entire time I knew him," explained Snape, "You bear an uncanny resemblance to the man, except that you have your mother's eyes. Your resemblance to James Potter makes it easier to play the part of hating you, but I am well aware you are not James Potter."
"He saved me," said Harry quietly, almost to himself. "When Voldemort came, he tried to fight him to give my mother time to escape with me."
"And where did you hear that fairy tale?" asked Snape.
"From the dementors," said Harry. "Every time they get close, I can hear Voldemort murdering my parents. I was just a baby, but when they get close, the worst things that ever happened to you come back crystal clear."
Snape was speechless.
"I think that's enough discussion for now," I said. "Maybe we should get back to the occlumency lessons."
Sloth and I were still getting remedial defense lessons with Professor Lupin, so we just brought the others with us at the scheduled time.
"What's all this about?" asked Lupin when we all crowded into the otherwise empty defense classroom.
"Are you really a werewolf, Professor?" asked Neville, still a bundle of nerves after our meeting with Snape.
Lupin put on an easy smile and said, "I won't deny it. How did you figure it out?"
"Professor Snape's essay," said Hermione.
"He'd be delighted," said Lupin. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant."
"You don't have to worry," I said. Gesturing to the others, I explained, "They know Sloth and I aren't human, and they haven't said anything."
"I see you're following in your father's footsteps, Harry," said Lupin, smiling. Harry didn't return the smile. "What's wrong?"
"My father," said Harry. "Snape said my father tried to feed him to you once back in school."
Lupin winced. "I thought Professor Dumbledore had sworn him to secrecy about that. That was why he resorted to that essay."
"We threatened him with a basilisk," said Luna cheerfully.
Lupin blinked. "Where would you eve get a basilisk?"
"From the Chamber of Secrets," said Ginny. "You must've heard about it being opened last year. It was in all the papers."
"Snape was telling the truth?" asked Harry, devastated.
"There's more to it, Harry," said Lupin quickly. "You should know the whole story."
"We're listening," said Sloth.
"Your father befriended me when I was an awkward outcast who got sick a lot," said Lupin. "When he figured out what I was, he didn't reject me. He even helped make my time transformed a little easier on me. This was years ago. The potion I take to remain myself when I transform hadn't been invented yet, so the only way I could stay safe was to isolate myself.
"James, Peter, and Sirius all stood up for me at school and kept my secrets. Severus was different. He was James' rival, and smart, even then. He worked out what I was from the timing of my illnesses. Sirius got the idea to tell Severus how to get where I was isolated. James found out about Sirius' prank just in time to drag Severus to safety."
"Snape thinks my father was in on it," said Harry.
"How did you stay friends with Sirius after that?" asked Sloth. "He tried to make you kill someone. That's got to have been your worst nightmare."
"Part of me thought Severus would've deserved it," said Lupin. "He'd hardly made my life easy, with his attempts to expose me. And it's not as though he didn't know what he was getting into. The whole point of following me was to prove I was a werewolf. But really, those three were my only friends. I couldn't bear to lose them. Of course, as things turned out, Sirius betrayed James to his death, murdered Peter, and landed himself in Azkaban."
"Professor Lupin, do you have any idea how Sirius Black keeps getting into the castle?" asked Hermione.
"We snuck in and out of the castle constantly as kids," said Lupin. "Add that knowledge to whatever dark magic he learned from Voldemort that's allowed him to escape the dementors, and it isn't surprising he's been able to break in twice."
"Professor Snape thinks you're helping him," said Harry.
"Of course he does," said Lupin, shaking his head. "It's not an unreasonable suspicion. But he cost me every other friend I had. I do think the dementor's kiss the Ministry wants him subjected to is excessive, but that's because I really wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemy."
Author's comments:
I do think there were a number of things about what we learn about Harry's parents' generation that didn't get enough emphasis in the cannon. Sirius really did try to murder Snape. Also, for all his bullying behavior, James did befriend someone no one else would have, and stood by Lupin after finding out his secret.