Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.
Chapter 8
Subtlety and discretion were virtues Severus Snape relied on heavily in order to survive as a bullied child and later on as a spy. Yet standing there into the brightly lit Gryfindor quarters of Minerva McGonagall, he felt exposed and cornered. In a short span, two staff members of the school had approached him sharing their concerns about Draco Lucius Malfoy. Instantly he grew protective of his godson.
Draco had projected himself as a shameless bully, a snobbish brat mostly to imitate his Father. Yet there was more to the boy that his father chose not to acknowledge. But Severus did and so did Narcissa Malfoy. And probably Albus and Minerva too felt the same.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had his own reasons to bring up the boy's name, but Minerva McGonagall… why would the witch be suddenly interested in his Slytherins? Severus brought his hand up and fiddled with his cravat, feeling the pendant between his fingers once. Mindful of his host he pretended to pick at his coat buttons and continued watching the puffs of smoke rising from Hagrid's Hut.
At length, he asked, "Draco Malfoy?"
The witch next to him spoke watching out of the window, her Scottish brogue accent added weight to her strong opinion, "Let's not consider the present scenario Severus. Remove Lucius from the picture and Narcissa too. In an ideal condition, the boy is as good as Miss Granger. He is intuitive, observant, smart, intelligent, and thoughtful when it comes to his own housemates. He has evolved."
"So has all of them," the man tried to downplay the whole thing, but McGonagall was determined to stick to the topic.
"I know the boy means a lot to you. Surely you won't like to watch him turn into yet another pawn in the hands of a mad man? As long as we have an opportunity to teach him, we should try to give him enough options to come to the right decisions," looking at him sideways, she continued, "Severus, I want to save as many of these students as I can. Recent events will jeopardize Mr. Malfoy's life. Though he does try hard to imitate his father, young Malfoy is not cut out for that kind of life. I have watched him, so has Flitwick and Pomona. And we all agree if Draco had a choice of his own, he would simply hide in a maze of bookshelves and only come out to play Quidditch."
When the other just grunted in agreement, the witch spoke again, "I got a lot of time to think, the least one can do while confined in a hospital bed. We have been relying on Albus for so long that we all have grown complacent. Once he got removed from the equation, look, what became of us? If you ask me, I would not wish to see ourselves divided in such a way."
"What are you exactly suggesting?" the man tilted his head and whispered with concealed interest.
Shrugging her shoulders the transfiguration professor murmured, "I don't know much yet, I don't wish to know your role as an Order Member, but Remus and your odd friendship give me much hope. Albus doesn't look beyond the obvious once he is satisfied with the way things are. On the contrary, I have watched both of you over the years and it makes me think of other possibilities."
"Like?"
"I would like you to show Mr. Draco Malfoy the available options of escaping the Hell that is waiting for him. In the face of Pure Evil, I want him to remember his estranged relatives. As his teacher, I can tell you, Mr. Malfoy is exceptionally good at Transfiguration and all the other subjects, I don't wish to stand aside and watch him wither away like Sirius or Regulus Black. I have failed you as a teacher, I don't wish to fail another student or students from any of the other houses. I hope it is not too late…I don't wish to imagine him turning into another Pettigrew under the circumstances. Bellatrix LeStrange's presence in the life of both the mother and the son worries me."
Snape thought over and asked, "How do you know so much?"
The witch rolled her eyes and replied, "Apart from the obvious, that I happen to teach you all, I do keep an eye and an ear open. Tell me, has she already started influencing young Malfoy? The boy can be beguiled very easily. Dolores has given us enough proof of that."
"No, there is still hope for that boy. Life was never easy for him. But I understand what you are trying to say, Minerva. Meanwhile do keep me informed about his performances in class."
"I will, like always. I take it you have met Treun, the griffin?"
"Treun! That metal contraption has a name?" Snape made a face but Minerva slapped his arm stopping him from saying anything else.
"Remus was rather surprised to see it acknowledge you, but I have known for a while, this castle has come to your defense several times, and it will continue to do so as long as you stay faithful to magic. I hope you can understand what I am trying to tell you?"
"I will keep that in mind."
"Treun is as old as the castle of Hogwarts, well that's what Gryfindor heads will tell you. But it is rare that artifacts which primarily sore their allegiance to the House of Godric Gryfindor share that gesture with other students or teachers, namely Slytherins. The founders never agreed with each other, their signature artifacts chose to keep that tradition alive. Severus, you are brave and loyal, and they recognize you as an ally for those qualities. I can't tell you how I came to know about Treun, but I will tell you why it stands hidden in the tunnels that lead to the Shrieking Shack."
Leaning against the wall, Minerva McGonagall studied the man across and smiled, "Remorse is a strong emotion. It was remorse and repentance that made James rush after you, even if you don't wish to acknowledge it. Honestly, neither do I, he had been horrible to you, I wish I could beat it out of him, but Albus guarded those four dearly. Now, he repents for his wrongdoings, but it is too late."
Shaking her head, the witch continued, "Animagus transformation is a powerful magical process. But Lycanthory, you must already know, is an induced malady. The subject has no control over himself as long as his werewolf self overtakes his mind and body. I remember Madam Pince informing me about your sudden interest in Lycanthropy after you had accidentally seen Remus in his transformed self. I understood what drove you to read up as much as you could on that subject. While you drowned yourself in research, I had my arms full of one repenting Remus Lupin."
Snape furrowed his brows and interjected, "He couldn't possibly remember anything about it. He had heard about it from the others afterward."
"On the contrary, he did. Apparently, his wolf form remembered your shocked face. How? I don't know for sure. In terms of the Animagus transformation, I can explain it. The subject does have control over his or her human faculties. Lycanthropy is a taboo subject, not much reading material is available for us to decipher Lupin's tendencies. Dumbledore had brought him to Hogwarts both to give him an opportunity to study as well as figure out more about his conditions. In the process we did make headway," she turned and smirked at the wizard.
"My interest in experimenting with the Wolfsbane potion has nothing to do with remorse," Snape quickly replied. The witch fiddled with her sleeves and chewed her lips. Her strange reaction didn't sit well with the potion master. Growing impatient, he barked, "Out with it Minerva, stop beating about the bush and just say it. I am warning you it won't change anything for me. If it is weighing so heavily on your conscience just say it and be done with it."
"You decided to continue experimenting with Wolfbane because you found it challenging. But it made Remus indebted to you," halting his approaching triad, the witch pressed on, "Remus continued to have nightmares about you, while you went through the same thing. During the next couple of full moon nights, things deteriorated. His wolf form had turned so ferocious that Albus had to renew the protective wards throughout the night. Perhaps, it had to do with adolescence, Poppy mentioned hormones or maybe it was Remus's own personality that he blamed himself for acting in such a way. The fact that he could have killed you ate at his conscience. When he couldn't kill himself, he wanted to leave, flee. He argued with Dumbledore. But Albus would hear nothing of it. That incident did make him question his friendship with Potter, Black, and Pettigrew. He didn't cut off his ties with them right away because Miss Evans asked him not to."
His eyebrows shot up and he turned a shade paler at that, "Lily?"
"Severus, Remus had heard quite a lot about you from Miss Evans. He wanted to make friends with you from the very beginning. Back then he cared least about house rivalry. Anyone suffering from such a malady will be mature enough to look above and beyond such things. Remus, much like you, is attracted to everything that makes one stretch his mind. At times, I see Mr. Zabini mirroring similar qualities."
Clearing his throat Snape felt the need to share something as well, "When he came to teach he was armed with a fat journal. He had jotted down everything about his transformation in it. Dropped it on my lap saying,' there you go, about ten years of detailed first-person observation, well as much as I could remember, now let's see how we both can better that Wolfsbane potion. This time around we got to do far far better than Damocles Belby'. But you are saying he could retain his human thoughts, and the Bebly version of the potion had nothing to do with it?"
She smiled at that, "I can imagine his delight. No Severus he was certain it had nothing to do with the potion he drank those days. He tells me, your new advanced alternative is much much better. Which reminds me, from now, you can give the monthly dose to either Albus or me. We will find a way to deliver it to Remus."
Nodding at her, Snape asked, "Why do you link all of this to remorse?"
Breathing in heavily, the witch murmured, her eyes glued at the other's shallow face, ready to pick up those subtle reactions which she knew would appear shortly, "Like I said, soon after that incident Remus tried to kill himself. Every full moon night, we would recover his slashed-up body. We couldn't levitate him, neither could Poppy manage to treat him in that run-down house. Albus came up with a modified stasis charm and I placed Treun right behind the wall of the Shack. We would place him over Griffin's back and the contraption would arrive at the Infirmary where Poppy would be ready to treat him back to health. This continued for three full moons."
Snape listened on remembering how the werewolf had sought him out just two nights ago, determined to make sure he was doing well enough. Over the years, he had turned himself into this lone acquaintance, with whom Snape could debate and argue as much as he wished to, whenever he wished to. Only, the Slytherin didn't show much interest. the Gryfindor would end writing boring short letters to him or worse up knocking at his door in the pretext of seeking a silent listener.
Remus was not Lily, neither was he Albus or Minerva. He was a standalone entity, he prodded little and waited patiently for the other to open up at his own pace. The werewolf had not made a single sound when he had seen the painting of Ophelia at his private lab. A gesture Severus had appreciated wholeheartedly. He could now understand much like himself, Remus had found a true friend in Lily. He was certain Remus had figured out his true role in the War.
Minerva's eyes grew distant as she continued to explain, "Like the sorting hat or the Gryfindor's sword, we found out Treun has magical properties. There are ancient protection wards placed on him. He is capable of guarding the wounded and shift him to safety. And much like Hippogriffs, he demands to be respected. With everything happening around us, I don't think, Remus will be around Hogwarts for long. Nor do I think you will wish Hagrid to see you come and go so frequently. In my animagus form, I too cant be of much help. If situations demand it, you can seek Treun's help."
The dour man smirked at that, "That is an odd gesture coming from a Gryffindor."
Shaking her head, Minerva grabbed his forearm and urged, "No, Severus, I am not repaying you. I know you didn't think of houses when you saved Granger or when you helped Longbottom. And I am trying to do the same in the case of Mr. Malfoy or Mr. Zabini. Let's agree upon joining hands to help these students defeat this evil once and for all, Severus."
Shaking her offered hand Snape nodded briefly, "I will be damned if you ask me to mollycoddle your fiesty cubs. I intend to continue deducting as many points as I wish from your brawling Gryffindors."
Laughing at that, the witch looked out of the window and stopped smiling altogether. "There he goes again."
Snape followed her line of sight, and mumbled tersely, "Potter."
He watched the boy sit down at the prier with his back towards the castle. True he couldn't see his face, but he knew all too well what was going on in the boy's mind. The witch next to him murmured gravely," I wonder how he will get over this experience. Remus told me...the dementors affected him more than the rest of the students because he has some truly horrifying memories trapped in his young mind. First Cedric and now, Sirius. You might have no love for that man, but for Harry, he was indeed the closest thing to a family after the Weasleys. I think I can say the same for Draco Malfoy. Severus that boy is truly gifted. Instead of seeing his potential, Lucius Malfoy has done everything to drag his only son to his early grave."
"Harry tells me Miss Granger has played a great role in the formation of Dumbledore's Army. She has always struck me as an exceptional girl. She tries hard, you might want to call her desire to excel as "overachieving tendency to show off" but I know where that comes from. She wants to belong somewhere. She invests more in Potter and Weasley because she is afraid of losing their friendship. Being Muggles, her parents can't help her much, yet if you had met them once you would know how exceptional they are. She wasn't popular at her muggle school, she was bullied and humiliated. People shied away from her because strange things happened whenever she was around. Friendless and sad, the girl found solace in books."
The potion master said derisively, "Books can't teach her everything. She got to think and apply herself if she wants to help Potter at all."
"But you will agree with me, that books can open new doors, they can help you enhance and educate yourself. Dr. Grangers saw it as an opportunity to make the girl feel better. She is well acquainted with muggle subjects, goes back every summer to catch up with her 'the other studies' as she likes to call it. She chose to train herself in such a fashion. She might be gifted but she makes sure she is utilizing her faculties to the last dot. You see, you can never be too harsh to her. She is already beating herself to it." Minerva sighed and peered at her colleague just in time to catch the twitch of his lips.
The Gryffindor witch was making sense, Snape accepted grudgingly. Even if he couldn't help her openly, he could try to drop hints and see whether the girl could catch up. In ideal circumstances, he would have wished to teach her everything he knew. As much as Albus had told him and as far as he had seen her mind, he knew she had the aptitude to learn both Occlumency and Legilimency. Severus would have given everything to teach her to achieve that. The image of her triumphant smile after cracking his potion puzzle way back in the first year flashed behind his eyes. Despite himself, he realized he wanted to see that again and again. Only this time he wished to see her smile like that in person.
The mention of Neville Longbottom's name broke his reverie, and he found himself standing alone next to the half-open window in Minerva's quarters. The view from the Gryffindor Tower had grown more cheerful with young students playing and chasing each other around the grounds or laughing and joking in small groups sprawled on the green grass. The witch, he realized, had gone back to her armchair.
"Maybe I hit something hard when I felt back. My knees…" Minerva started massaging them once again.
Snape eyed her with concern then whispered, "I will send up some nerve relaxing salve, apply them, and don't move about. You are not as young as you desperately want to be."
The witch shot him a nasty glare and hissed, "Honestly! You got the worst kind of bedside manners."
"Works for me, I am not a healer, I am a potion master after all," he quipped.
"Flitwick is glad to see Miss Lovegood finally coming out of her shell. He credits Longbottom and Potter for helping her out. If Longbottom has played a role in encouraging her, I think that in turn could help him grow up into a confident man. But then this little incident...Severus, do you think, I should write a letter to Augusta and alert her about Neville's suicidal tendencies?"
The man had turned so fast that she had recoiled back in shock. His penetrating glare was enough to force her to think again. Gulping down the witch mumbled, "Maybe not. Yes, rather, I think I should just check on them once or twice, just to make sure they are fine."
Severus had been pondering about bringing up Longbottom's miraculous potion brewing skills, but now he decided to wait. Firstly he couldn't explain it to Minerva, without giving himself away. Secondly, he would rather like to see if the boy was capable of brewing satisfactory potions consistently before pointing it out to his colleagues.
The task of watching Potter's small figure hunched over the pier was growing painful. This growing desire to hold him in the same way he had held Draco just an hour ago disgusted him. It didn't sit well on many levels. Lily was not around to comfort her son because of him, Potter blamed him for the death of Sirius Black, something he had also thought about. Even if he never liked Black, he didn't wish him to die either. Maybe rot in Azkaban but not die.
Twisting his face, he muttered, "Forgive me if I cant advise you on the ways to mollycoddle your cubs, Minerva," bringing out a small pouch from inside his frock coat, he dropped it on the table next to the witch, and stared hard, "that boy has lost his wand in that ridiculous display of bravado. I am sure Madam Longbottom would not stop at belittling him, knowing how stern she is as a person. But Hogwarts has a responsibility towards its students. The least we can do is buy another wand for a student who is stupid enough to stand for the Righteous. Have a good day Professor McGonagall."
Bowing his head a little Snape walked out of the stunned Transfiguration Professor's office, leaving the witch gawking at his rigid back and billowing black robes. She turned after she could no longer hear the man's retreating footsteps and picked up the pouch gingerly. pulling the drawstrings apart, she gasped when she looked inside. Right at the bottom of the cavity, sat seven galleons.
Tilting her head back to the window, she could now see Potter making his way back to the castle and mumbled under her breath, "Indeed, you are a strange man Severus Snape. Just the kind of person we need to lead Hogwarts when the time comes. Albus and Flitwick agree but with your tainted past only Time will say if you can earn the glory of being the future Headmaster of Hogwarts or not."
Exactly a year back, Tom Riddle's resurrection had forced the Hogwarts older professors to think over matters. Even if the Board of Governors and the Ministry of Magic always had a say in the matter of picking up the next Headmaster or Headmistress of the institution, they couldn't vote for someone who failed to see eye to eye with the heads of the houses. With the second Wizard war brewing on the horizon, Dumbledore had called a meeting right after the departure of Hogwarts express.
Pomona was the first to notice Snape's absence. Smiling at her The Headmaster explained, "it is better this way, Madam Sprout, our Potion Master won't appreciate whatever I am going to propose anyways."
Turning to Mcgonagall and Flitwick he said, "There are things we need to reconsider now that Tom has reappeared."
"What things?" Flitwick asked adjusting himself on the high chair he had conjured on his arrival.
"I wish to talk about my successor," Albus stared at the deputy headmistress and nodded, "yes, in normal circumstances, you would take up the post, Minnie if something happens to me…"
Sprout and McGonagall half-shouted from across the table but Flitwick tapped his chin and continued to stare at the headmaster.
The charms professor suggested after a while, "I would vote for Severus," when the herbology professor tutted, he explained, "think it through Pomona," pointing at the three of them sitting in the visitors' chairs he carried on, "we cannot continue as Head of the school for long, but Snape can. He is young, he can be unaffected, unbias, driven, and stern when such opportunities arise. Yes, he prefers the Slytherins, yet, he knows where to draw the line. Think for once, imagine a world without, " the half-goblin looked guiltily at Dumbledore, then muttered, "forgive me Albus," to which the headmaster shook his head," if something happens to Albus, if Potter is successful in defeating You-know-who, we need someone strong and powerful at the school to rebuild Magical Britain or even Hogwarts. Yes, all three of us put together can achieve that. But Severus…"
Pomona could now see what the Charms professor was trying to suggest, "But Snape has the capacities to do much more. Minerva, what do you think?"
Back then the Transfiguration Professor had said the same thing she repeated today as the Sunday afternoon sun bathed the room, "Severus has to defeat his own demons to earn that place or else he will crumble under the pressure of the many roles he is playing right now." It was her way of telling her mentor and friend looking at her with glinting blue eyes, she was aware of the special service the Slytherin was doing to the Order of the Pheonix.
The strange meeting at McGonagall's quarters had driven the dour potion master back to the dark and murky dungeons. The man had literally gone back to his lab and spent hours hunched over his simmering caldrons. Both poppy and Albus had sought his company, but Snape chose to avoid everyone making one excuses after the other. Only the transfiguration professor had made no attempt to seek his company and he thanked her for being so considerate in his own mind.
Instead, right before the breakfast on the last day of the session, Dotty had arrived and delivered a letter, mumbling, "The Deputy Headmistress Madam sends her compliments and wishes the Potion Master to join the rest of the staff for Breakfast at the Great Hall." The elf had vanished immediately much to the displeasure of the man. He wanted to convey back, he had no desire to show himself to the gaggling crowd. It seemed the elf was acting under the all-knowing witch's singular instructions.
Tearing the letter open, Snape had gradually calmed down. It read,
Dear Professor Snape,
The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has accepted a donation of seven galleons in the account it has for long reserved to meet the need of 'Special Students'. An equal amount has been handed over to Mr. Garrick Ollivander, with the standing instruction, "Hogwarts would wish to repay Mr. Neville Longbottom's act of bravery by paying in advance for his new wand." Please find the wandmaker's self-attested reply along with this letter.
Flipping over, Snape had barked out a hearty laughter.
Besides the general salutation, Ollivander had replied in the same cheeky tone,
Amount duly received and will see to it the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom is armed by a fitting wand. I recall he was rather proud to have inherited his father's wand; eleven and a half inches, blackthorn with the core made of phoenix feather. Temperamental, and dedicated to its original owner. Eagerly waiting for the boy to pay me a visit. As instructed I won't disclose anything to the guardian of the boy and will be considering the extra 'seven galleons' as a donation received on behalf of the School to fund any future needy young wizard or a witch paying me a visit.
P.s.- The least I can do for a Galant Soldier of the Dumbledore's Army and perhaps the future Order member and herbology genius in the making.
Minerva's letter had a small footnote as well.
"I wonder why Mr. Neville Longbottom strongly feels someone must have tried to obliviate him. He has shared a very interesting anecdote about you allowing him to brew a difficult potion and he has for once managed not to explode his caldron. I hope I did the right thing by telling the boy to trust his own instincts from now on."
Snape was almost successful at avoiding the Golden Trio. He had stopped visiting the Infirmary and had tried to stay hidden either in his own lab or in the library. He was afraid of looking at Harry Potter, green eyes which now haunted him every night, he could always hear Miss Granger's voice whispered next to his ear, even in completely deserted corridors.
As if sensing the dour professor's desire to be left alone, none of the students went down to the dungeons now that the classes were over and they would soon be heading home. Even Longbottom had looked the other way each time he had chanced upon the professor scowling at him from the high table. It was mandatory for the man to appear for at least one meal and Snape chose to have an early and quick breakfast before hibernating in his quarters for the rest of the day.
He wasn't so worried about Potter or Miss Lovegood. They didn't have any reason whatsoever to seek him out. Even Draco had chosen to be with his housemates instead of knocking at his godfather's office at odd hours. But he was certain, Miss Granger and her unstoppable urge to do the right thing wouldn't hold back the witch for long.
The night before the term break, he was rather surprised to find Hermione Granger stopping by his desk at the library. He decided to ignore the girl and pointedly refused to acknowledge her presence.
Through his long curtain of black hair, he noticed Miss Granger shifting her weight from one leg to the other for some more minutes, then heard her soft whisper, "I wanted to thank you, professor…" Snape's head jerked up from the heavy leatherbound and he couldn't help but glare at her. He had been holding the book so tightly, that his knuckles had gone white and his arms were trembling in fury.
That soft voice had by now driven him mad, that ever echoing plea had robbed him of his diminishing peace of mind. His insides turned and he could clearly hear his blood roaring in his veins. 'Thank, how could she dare to thank him, after foolishly trying to fight a band of cutthroat death eaters, without considering her own safety? Why did she not stay back and think this was way out of her league! Thank him, after making sure she too was almost slipping through the veil.' Severus wasn't even aware of when or how he ended up thinking like that.
Perhaps his thoughts had made him appear murderous because the girl had instantly backed away, visibly quivering and once Snape had growled dangerously, "Get out of my sight," she had all but fled.