Chapter 9
"There are going to be some changes when you get back," McGonagall spoke from the lectern at the front of the Great Hall. Every student was present, even the three couples who had thought they were better served taking a last minute trip to a broom closet than attending breakfast. Being dragged out of their hiding spots by the armoured figures who had seemingly no equals in the magical world had rapidly changed their minds.
Every student and professor sat rapt as the headmistress spoke. Even the snooty Slytherins were quiet, though the presence of one of the armored figures quietly pacing behind their table might have contributed to that. The second was right behind professor McGonagall, standing solemnly as the new head addressed the changes that would be coming.
"Over the last year and a half, this school has been guided into a hole, a hole that if we don't get out of, would see untold damage to our world. Bigotry and discrimination have become rampant. No Longer!" Her hand slammed down on the podium and almost everyone jumped. "No longer will a blind eye be turned to this, no longer will blood or any other so-called privilege will be an excuse for anything. If someone breaks a rule, they will be punished. It will not be dismissed anymore, nor will their victim be punished instead.
"We are returning to a more civil time, a time where everyone is held accountable to their actions. To aid in this, the Inquisitorial Squad is disbanded. Their reign of terror is over. Another change will affect the class structure. There will be two new classes, for the next two years they will be mandatory for everyone, but thereafter they will be first and second year only.
"The first will be for anyone raised in a wizarding home, and it will deal with basic abilities to survive in the muggle world. For too long has the other half of our world been ignored. This is a tragedy because the muggles are getting closer and closer to discovering us because we can't blend in. One day soon even blending in won't help us.
"The second class is for those raised in the muggle world, ones that know little to nothing about our world. It will be an introduction to this world, for they are leaving everything they grew up with to join a very old and ingrained society. They have different views, and those views aren't necessarily good or bad, just different. Some might be able to change our society for the better, some might not, but just having them is not bad. This class will give them a better understanding of what is different in our world and give them the tools and knowledge to better assimilate into the magical world."
Silence drifted over the hall as everyone assimilated what had been said. Murmurs began to spread as neighbor turned to neighbor, each trying to get someone to tell them what this meant. At the head table, several professors also seemed confused by this new stance.
"Now I'm sure you all have questions," McGonagall said again after a moment, causing silence to once more fall over the Hall. "Unfortunately we don't have all the answers at this time. We have some, but they may also change over the break as we find solutions to various issues. Because of the number of changes currently underway, every parent is invited to join us for the welcoming feast when you return in January. Muggle parents are welcome to ride the train with you or use one of the group portkeys that will depart at five o'clock from platform 9 ¾. Be advised that although we welcome parents into the school, in certain circumstances they might be refused entry. Any parent or student with hostile intent will be denied access to the train and portkeys, requiring further security screening. Even if they are cleared, they will be allowed limited access only. Also, anyone marked with the dark mark will be rejected, stunned, and bound by the wards, then taken to a secure location. We take the security of our students seriously and no more will these terrorists be tolerated."
These announcements caused so much stir that the byplay at the head table was largely missed by the crowd. As McGonagall had been speaking, the armored figure behind her had slowly shifted sideways. The displacement took most of her speech, but as she revealed the Death Eater exclusion in the wards, a vice-like grip seized the shoulder of Severus Snape. The irate potions master turned in his chair to berate the offender who had dared to touch him and froze. Even he had doubts about his odds of survival against these two strangers. Rumor had it that one had either called or become a dragon the night before, not just chasing off but actually destroying over a hundred dementors. That was a power he would rather not trifle with.
"Stay seated, Professor," the gravelly voice of the male warrior spoke softly to him. "You are not to leave until I come back for you. Fear not, for even if you do not stay as potions master, you shall not die tonight."
"Once everyone has arrived, the feast shall commence and afterwards we shall ensure everyone, student, staff, and parent, understands the new reality. Any parent who finds this unacceptable will be allowed to depart with their children at that point," McGonagall continued. "Now, it is about an hour before the train departs, so it is time for you to finish your breakfasts and be on your way."
"What are we going to do with you, Severus Snape?"
After the students had left the Great Hall, the armored figures had escorted Severus to the head office. It was not his first trip there, far from it for this was Albus's favorite place to plan. As his chief spy, Severus had often joined him, steering him towards poor outcomes for those who had offended him. Now however, it was different. He was not a welcomed guest, he was a prisoner. Though no shackles had been used, nor his wand taken, there was little doubt that his fate hung in the balance of the conversation he was about to have with the masked warriors.
"What do you wish to do with me?" he answered evasively.
"We will ask the questions here," the female cut him off, circling him in the opposing direction from her partner. "However, I suppose it is a fair question. Given what we know, there are many things we can do."
"For your blatant abuse of your position and promotion of bigotry, we could make an example of you. Or we could punish you for the fear mongering amongst and abuse of the students. The fact that you are a student's boggart is beyond the pale," the man spoke, fingering his sheathed sword.
"On the other hand, we also know you can change, for you regret joining the Death Eaters as a teenager," she paused, her head cocking to consider him. "Or more accurately, you regret the outcomes of that choice, which I suppose is an important distinction."
"We also know about the deal you made with Albus Dumbledore, which you have kept and he did not." The man's voice seemed strained now, but steely in resolve.
They both stopped in front of him, looking at him from under their hooded cowls. Severus shivered, for even without seeing their faces he could feel the hatred and anger coming from them. He had felt hatred before, one couldn't be in the same room as Voldemort without feeling it, but this was different. Voldemort's anger was pure and untempered, resolute. This anger was colder, yet restrained, like they were weighing it against something else.
"Benedicat Hekate, Puritatem Cordis," entoned the woman, and Severus felt a light settle over him, enveloping him. He glanced around and saw a circle of light emitting runes around him, surrounding him.
"What have you done?" he demanded, or at least tried to. It came out much calmer than he intended, almost conversationally.
"You are a renown potions master, and given your position as both Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle's spy, we're sure you have imbibed some potion or elixir to evade the properties of veritaserum, so we have used something else. Within this circle of Hekate's blessing, no lies or misdirection can be spoken." the woman informed him, and he realized he couldn't even think untruths. He tried to rise, but found he couldn't really move.
"So let us see what you really think," Harry spoke softly, pausing and leaning over to stare at him from within his cowl. "Who are you loyal to?"
"No one, for everyone has betrayed me."
"Explain."
"When I was young, I could be said to be loyal to Lily Evans, I stayed friends with her until I betrayed her in a fit of anger. I regret it, but I can't undo it. Later I turned from her path and found solace in service to the Dark Lord. I served him well, but when I asked him to spare Lily, he just laughed. I tried to change, to save her, but when I went to Dumbledore, he required oaths of obedience in exchange for saving her. I gave them gladly, but he didn't save her. It was then I realized I couldn't trust anyone, for they would betray me."
"If you had to choose a side, who would you choose to support?"
"You." Snape's answer surprised them both, for it had not occurred to them.
"Why?"
"Everyone thinks you speak of going back to the time before Umbridge with your reforms, but I listened. I realized you meant to revert to long ago when nothing mattered but what a student, or professor, did. Not parents or blood status. To true equality before Magic. Voldemort would see everyone bow before him, muggle and magical alike, with no regard for blood status, just who he chooses to give his favor to. Look at me, I am a half-blood and he wanted my talents so his bigotry was set aside so I could serve him. Dumbledore spoke of being light and wishing for equality, yet silently worked to maintain his powers, hoarding knowledge and authority to himself. He takes what he wants and sees himself as absolved when he doesn't follow through on his side as it's for his vaunted greater good. You actually act towards the equality you espouse."
"And do you wish to stay at Hogwarts as a teacher?"
"No, I've hated teaching with a passion, which showed in my lack of effort."
"What would you wish to do?"
"Brew." The simple answer was heartfelt. "There is a simple elegance in the brewing, the careful mixing of common things to make something miraculous. In all my life, brewing has never failed me, never betrayed me. It is pure and true, it never lies."
"Do you regret becoming a Death Eater?"
"Yes."
"Would you take it back if you could?"
"Yes, it cost me far too much and took so much more from me."
"Second to last question, for now," the female spoke for the first time in the interview. "Why did you hate Harry Potter so much?"
"I was ordered to make his life miserable, but I probably would have disliked him anyway, for he was a reminder of what my choices had cost me. Every time I looked into his eyes I saw Lily."
"Then this is your last question." Harry stood before the potions master, gathering himself to face his tormentor. Zir had guided him through absolution exercises to confront his feelings on this, but he was still only human. To his credit though, his hands didn't shake as he reached up and drew back his hood, revealing to the two professors present who he was for the first time.
"Will you brew for me, help me finish what my mother started?"
Silence filled the office as shock froze the Hogwarts professors. They barely moved as Hermione drew her own hood down, joining Harry in revealing their identities. Before them stood the once Boy-Who-Lived and his muggleborn best friend, now living representatives to the Lord and Lady of Magic. Dozens of thoughts flashed through their minds, from trying to compare the scrawny kid he was to the towering man before them to wondering about Harry's survival.
Snape stared into those brilliant green eyes, Lily's eyes, and saw the paths before him. If he chose to follow the Dark Lord, the one who had killed Lily, he would die. He could see that certainty in those emerald orbs. It would not be pleasant, nor quick, but it truly would be inevitable. It might come to be by Harry's hand, or Voldemort's himself, or some nobody, but death would find him. If he chose Dumbledore, he might still live, yet he had no doubt that his new residence would be Azkaban. He knew only Albus's protection had saved him from that fate before, and should he ever fall from favor, that would be his new home. Yet, before him stood a reminder of those choices. He had called the boy talentless, useless, and much worse. Yet, he asked questions, looked for the whole story before offering him a choice and passing judgement. He might not like what the boy would decide, but it would be fair, far fairer than what he would have before the Dark Lord or the Wizengamot.
"Yes."