Hermione crept through Snape's office, relieved that the door to his quarters was slightly ajar. She lifted her wand, casting another Silencing Charm before she entered.
It was a good thing she did. Otherwise, the intruder would've heard her gasp, her eyes widening as she spotted Snape on the bed.
He wasn't making any noise. He wasn't moving either, rendered immobile by what was obviously a Full Body-Bind. Still, his agony couldn't have been more obvious, his muscles rigid, a single tear trickling out from beneath his tightly closed lids as he suffered under the effects of the Cruciatus.
"Stupefy!" she shouted.
Alain flew backward, hitting the wall with a painful sounding thud as she aimed her wand at Snape. In the blink of an eye, she freed him, his body jerking several times before he managed to push himself into a sitting position.
"Mr. Ashwood," he said. "What a surprise. Then again, perhaps it isn't so shocking. I should've known…"
"Cruc…"
"Oh no." He smiled dangerously, disarming the boy with a flick of his wand. "No, we won't be having any more of that. Miss Granger? Summon a chair, if you will."
He hadn't recovered. Not even close. She could see that in the ashen pallor of his skin, his hand trembling as he gripped his wand with a white knuckled fist. He didn't even attempt to rise from the bed, probably because he didn't trust his legs to hold him upright.
"Sit."
"No."
"Do as I say," Snape said, "or you'll regret it."
Even his voice was unsteady, though it didn't matter. He was fully in control now, even if Alain was too stupid to realize it.
"Traitor. I don't take orders from you!"
"I beg to differ."
The next thing she knew, Alain was bound to the chair, slender black ropes entwined around his arms and legs. He struggled to free himself, but it was a useless effort. After a few minutes, he gave up, cursing aloud as his body went limp.
"I suppose I don't need to ask why," Snape said, grimacing slightly as he pushed himself to his feet. He stepped forward, unfastening one of the ropes before he jerked on Alain's sleeve.
"It's…"
"The Dark Mark? Yes, Miss Granger, it would appear so."
"But I thought…"
"You assumed that only a Slytherin would stoop so low? I would've thought that you of all people would know better."
"No," she said, stung by the bitterness in his voice. "That isn't what I meant. It's just… he's a sixth year. He couldn't have been more than 15 when…"
For the first time, Snape looked directly at her, seeming to relax somewhat. "Yes, well, the Dark Lord wasn't too particular about age… especially toward the end."
"How dare you speak of him?!" Alain shouted. "You killed him, you filthy bastard!"
"Did I?" Snape cocked an eyebrow. "As much as I'd like to think so, it seems I was unconscious at the time of his death."
"You killed him! All of you!"
"He deserved to die," Hermione said.
"He didn't," Alan shot back, his face turning a mottled shade of red. "But you do, you Mudblood bitch!"
She didn't have time to react. Snape moved faster, his black eyes burning as he lifted his wand.
"Use that word again," he said, his voice deathly quiet, "and you'll discover why the Dark Lord recruited me at such a young age."
"I'm not afraid of you!"
"No? Then you're a foolish boy. The pain I could inflict on you…" Snape sneered. "Let's just say it would be far more… intense than your pathetic attempt at the Cruciatus."
"You're bluffing."
"Indeed? Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out."
"Wait," Hermione said. She didn't know if Snape was serious, but this seemed like a good time to intervene. His threat had obviously worked - Alain had turned a shade paler, his manner more subdued.
"What is it, Miss Granger?"
"I don't understand," she said. "I mean, I get that he was working for the other side, but… why now? Why risk everything just to…"
"I've already lost everything! Alain shouted, struggling against his bonds again. "Because of you, both of you! If you hadn't betrayed him…"
"Then he would've betrayed you," Snape said.
"Never! He told me…"
"That you had remarkable talent, skills that would be useful to his cause?"
"It wasn't just that."
"Of course not." Snape's tone was casual, underscored by just a touch of venom. "I'm sure he also promised you power, protection, a chance to rise in the ranks if you performed to his satisfaction. Did he say that you had limitless potential, too?"
"You were eavesdropping! You sneaky, traitorous…"
"Eavesdropping? That's your specialty, Mr. Ashwood, not mine. I know what he said because…"
"Because he told you the same things."
Snape nodded. "Astute as always, Miss Granger."
Alain's expression was mutinous, his eyes darting around the room before they fixed on Snape. "So he told you that, too," he said. "So what? Just because you turned out to be a disappointment… that doesn't mean…"
"A disappointment? Oh yes, what a disappointment I was, excelling where so many others fell short. The fact that he relied on me above anyone else, referring to me as his most trusted servant? I suppose that was a suitable reward for my… failures."
"You betrayed him!"
"Yes, but he didn't know that. Not until the very end, hours after my supposed death. When he killed me… or tried to, at any rate…"
"He thought you were loyal," Hermione said.
"Indeed. 'A good and faithful servant'… I believe those were the words he used. In the end, it made no difference. My life, such as it was, meant nothing to him. Just a tool to be used and squandered as he saw fit."
"You deserved it!"
"Did I, Mr. Ashwood? Perhaps, though by that logic, anyone who served the Dark Lord would've deserved the same fate."
"Anyone," Hermione added as she looked at Alain, "including you."
"Shut up, Mudblood!"
She couldn't have stopped Snape, even if she'd wanted to. His wand was already pointed in Alain's face, his expression feral.
"I told you," he said from between gritted teeth, "not to use that word. I also told you what the consequences would be if you did so again. Tell me, Mr. Ashwood – would you like to know how it feels to be slaughtered by the Dark Lord?"
"Don't," Hermione whispered. "Please, you can't kill…"
She trailed off, silenced by a single glance from Snape. Somehow, it reassured her, though it didn't prepare her for what happened next.
"Dolor reflectitur!"
Alain shrank back in his chair, his face turning pale. He shook his head vehemently, his breath emerging in quick, panicked bursts.
"No," he whispered. "No, please…"
"Professor Snape…"
She never got to finish, the rest of her words drowned out by an unearthly scream. Snape chose that moment to release the bonds, Alain's body hitting the floor with a heavy thud. He lay there twitching, clawing at his throat, a terrible gurgling sound emerging from somewhere deep in his chest.
"Stop it," she hissed. "You're killing him!"
"I'm not," Snape said, giving his wand another flick. Alain went limp, his face wet with tears as he lay trembling at their feet.
"Is he…"
"Injured? Not at all. Mr. Ashwood? Get back in your chair."
"I… I can't."
"I lost half the blood in my body," Snape said. "More than that, I'd expect. I'd also been injected with some of the most toxic venom…"
"It burns."
"Yes, it does. Fortunately, there's not a single drop of it in your body. What you experienced was an illusion, one that lasted no more than a minute. I lay that way for hours, scorched from the inside, weakened by massive blood loss. Yet still, I found a way to move. I dragged myself from one side of the room to the other, gritting my teeth through the agony before I finally lost consciousness. What you've just endured? Trivial in comparison. Now get in your chair."
Alain did what he was told, rubbing his arm as he sat back down.
"Do you see now?" Snape said. "No pity, no mercy, not even for the Dark Lord's most trusted servant. He doesn't deserve your loyalty, Mr. Ashwood. He never did."
Until that moment, Hermione hadn't fully understood Snape's intentions. She thought he'd punished Alain for calling her a Mudblood, which might've been true to some degree. But it was also something deeper than that, something that wrenched at her heart as she recognized it for what it was.
Snape was trying to save him.
Despite everything, he still hoped to get through to Alain, attempting to show him the error of his ways in the only way he knew how. This was the mercy that Voldemort had been incapable of, a shot at redemption with no strings attached.
"Mr. Ashwood?"
Alain had recovered somewhat, his expression unreadable. Gradually, it shifted, transforming into that same mask of resentment he'd worn before.
"Liar," he said, his voice dripping with hatred. "You're still a traitor, and you still deserve to die!"
For the moment, the only thing that died was the spark of hope in Snape's eyes. His mouth tightened, compressing into a thin line.
"Clearly," he said, "you're incapable of listening to reason. You are perfectly capable of facing the consequences of your actions, however, including the use of an illegal curse. As soon as I summon the headmistress…"
"Wait," Hermione said.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"He… he knows things. Or at least, I think he does."
She didn't need to elaborate. Snape knew what she was talking about, jerking his head before he pointed his wand at Alain.
"Legilimens."
For several minutes, the room was silent. Finally, Snape withdrew, his expression grim.
"That day in your office… after you found the snakes… was he…"
"Yes."
She shook her head. "We can't let anyone find out…"
"That you're shagging the greasy dungeon bat?" Alain smirked. "Yeah, I'd be embarrassed, too."
"I'm not embarrass… I mean, we never…"
"Obliviate."
With a flick of his wand, Snape took care of the problem, renewing Alain's bonds before he turned back to Hermione. He didn't quite meet her eyes, looking as embarrassed as she felt as he cleared his throat.
"Minerva," he said.
"I can send my Patronus if you want."
"Yes, but… you're in my private quarters at four in the morning. How are we supposed to explain that?"
"Oh, that's easy," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but…"
"Bloody hell!"
Severus shook his head, cursing to himself as he stared at the empty chair. He scanned the room, though of course, there was no point in doing so. Once again, Ashwood had disappeared into thin air.
Clearly, the boy was an unregistered Animagus. Why hadn't he bothered to find out what species he was? Discovering that he was an insect wouldn't have been particularly helpful, but even that would've given him somewhere to start from.
"We have to go after him!"
"And how," he said, "do you propose we do that?"
The words came out more harshly than he'd intended, but it didn't matter. Hermione was barely listening, her expression intent as she stared at the piece of parchment in her hand.
"What is that?" he said.
"The Marauder's Map. It's…"
"I know what it is… or at least, I have a vague idea. Give it to me."
As soon as he touched it, the ink disappeared, replaced by the childish insults he'd seen years before. Scowling, he handed it back, peering over her shoulder as she tapped it with her wand.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
He rolled his eyes, though his irritation was quickly forgotten as the map revealed itself. Even he had to admit that it was an impressive bit of work, a perfectly proportional layout of the school. But that wasn't all. He quickly determined its true purpose, his eyes sweeping over several clusters of dots before he located the one he was looking for. Separate from the others, it was the only one moving… straight toward the Entrance Hall.
"He's trying to get outside!"
"The doors are warded," he said without thinking. "Only a staff member…"
"Wards didn't stop Peter Pettigrew!"
She was right. Of course she was. He took off at a run, sensing her close on his heels as they ascended from the dungeons. Soon enough, they'd reached their destination, pausing to catch their breath as Hermione scoured the map.
"He's still here!"
"Where?"
She took a couple steps forward, still looking at the map as he glanced over her shoulder. Her name was almost fully overlapped with Ashwood's now, their eyes scanning the floor as the latter dot began to separate itself.
It took Severus a minute to see it, a slight flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He pointed his wand in that direction, opening his mouth to request that Hermione do the same.
Too late. She was one step ahead of him, her eyes widening as she peered at the tiny creature.
"A locust?"
"It would appear so."
"But I thought locusts flew," she said. "wouldn't that have been a quicker way to escape?"
"It would be," he responded, watching the insect hop toward the door. "Unless, of course, that locust has a damaged wing."
It hadn't registered at the time, but suddenly, he remembered the boy grimacing as he'd rubbed his arm. He must've injured it when he'd fallen from the chair, an unintended side effect of Severus's spell.
Did he regret it? Not particularly. Were it not for that little mishap, Ashwood would've been long gone.
"Ready, Miss Granger?"
She nodded, lifting her wand.
The insect hissed, which turned into a scream of protest as they forced him back into his human form. Severus didn't bother responding to the curses that followed, silencing Ashwood with a flick of his wand before he pointed at the stairs.
"Headmistress's office," he said. "Now. Miss Granger? Send your Patronus."
"I'm not going up there!"
"You say that like you have a choice in the matter."
They'd just reached the third floor when Alain transformed, attempting to hop toward an open window. Fortunately, Hermione was quicker, swooping down on him with a glass jar she'd conjured. She tightened the lid with a flick of her wrist, her expression smug as she handed it to Severus.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said wryly, "but you've done this before."
She shrugged. "Once or twice."
"Rita Skeeter, I presume?"
She nodded.
"What madness compelled you to release her?"
"I couldn't just keep her in a jar for the rest of her life."
"Why not?" he said. "Somehow, I doubt she would have been missed."
"Maybe not, but…"
Hermione trailed off, both of them coming to a stop as they reached their destination. There was no need for a password – Minerva was standing there with the door open, stifling a yawn.
"This couldn't have waited until morning?"
"Attempted murder?" Severus said. "I'm afraid not."
"Murder?!" Suddenly, she was wide awake, ushering them both into her office. "What happened? Shall I summon the other teachers? Whoever did this… if they're still on the loose…"
"No need to summon anyone." He set the jar on the desk, gratefully accepting the chair she offered. While he'd done his best to hide it, his body still ached from the curse he'd endured. "Professor Flitwick will need to be informed, of course, but that can wait until a more reasonable hour."
"Who did they attack?"
"Me."
"You, Severus? But I thought…"
"You thought Miss Granger was the target? Yes, well, we both were. Fortunately, I took the brunt of the boy's punishment."
"The boy who is currently trapped in this jar?"
"Alain Ashwood," Hermione said. "He's a…"
"A Ravenclaw," Minerva finished for her. "Yes, I know. Tea?"
Severus inclined his head, the three of them silent as she tapped on the teapot. She filled a trio of cups, passing the milk and sugar before she settled back in her chair.
"I'd imagine," she said as she lifted her cup to her lips, "that the two of you need this as much as I do."
"Indeed," he responded, nearly groaning in relief as the familiar warmth spread through his bones. It had a calming effect on his mind, too, which was no doubt Minerva's intention. She waited a few minutes before she leaned forward again, her eyes lingering on the jar.
"Tell me what happened. All of it."
"I fell asleep in my quarters," he said, "only to be awoken by a Full-Body Bind. Naturally, I was unable to defend myself. I had no choice but to lie there as Mr. Ashwood threatened to kill me."
"But why? What would motivate him…"
"The answer to that can be found on his forearm."
"A Death Eater," Minerva said, pouring herself another cup of tea. "I always thought he was a bit strange, but I wouldn't have guessed…"
"Because he's a Ravenclaw?"
"No, of course not. It's just he's always been well behaved, excelling in his classes, and…"
"Yes, the boy is quite talented. I was particularly impressed with the strength of his Cruciatus."
"He used an Unforgivable on you?" Minerva's jaw tightened.
"He did," Severus said, "and would have continued to do so if Miss Granger hadn't stopped him."
"But how…"
"How did I know what was happening?" Hermione said. "I… I used a tracking charm."
"A tracking charm?" Minerva frowned. "On Professor Snape?"
"No, on Alain Ashwood. I'd caught him staring at us at meals and saw him sneaking around after curfew. I wasn't sure he was the person we were looking for, so I…"
Why didn't she just tell Minerva about the map? Was she afraid it would be confiscated? Under the circumstances, that hardly seemed like a valid fear, but… well, who was Severus to give away her secrets?
"Miss Granger was determined to find proof, and so she did. I might've been killed had she not intervened."
"50 points to Gryffindor," Minerva said, almost as an afterthought, "do you really believe Mr. Ashwood would've killed you?"
"I'd like to believe otherwise, but yes, I do. He is… thoroughly corrupted. Poisoned by hatred. He holds both myself and Miss Granger responsible for the Dark Lord's death… his hero's death, as it were. I tried to reason with him, but…"
He trailed off as Minerva picked up the jar, turning it this way and that before she opened the lid. Flipping it upside down, she dumped the locust on the floor before she reached for her wand.
"Your assistance, Severus?"
"Certainly."
The insect screeched, howling as they forced him back into his human form. He reached up to grip his arm, his face stark white as he unleashed a string of obscenities.
"Severus?" Minerva said, elevating her voice above the din. "How did Mr. Ashwood's arm get broken?"
"An accident," Severus said smoothly. "He injured himself in a fall."
"Liar!" Ashwood screamed. "He beat me, tortured me… he was the one who used the Cruciatus!"
"He did not!"
"Shut up, Mudblood!"
This time, Severus didn't have a chance to react. Hermione was faster, slapping Ashwood with so much force that he stumbled backward.
"You shut up," she said. "I'm sick of…"
"Enough," Minerva interjected. "Mr. Ashwood? Have a seat."
To Severus's surprise, the boy did as he was told, cradling his injured arm as he dropped into the closest chair.
"Did you use an Unforgivable on Professor Snape tonight?"
"No."
"No?" Minerva raised an eyebrow. "According to him…"
"It was just a little Stinging Hex. Not my fault he can't tell the difference."
"A Stinging Hex?" Unable to help himself, Severus laughed. "Stupid boy. I've been enduring the Cruciatus since before you were born. Trust me, I am intimately familiar with its effects."
"Stupid? At least I'm not a traitor!"
With that one word, Ashwood gave himself away. Not that Minerva wouldn't have believed them, but…
"A traitor?" she said quietly. "To whom?"
Ashwood sat mute, flinching as Severus moved closer. He screamed in protest as Severus took hold of his injured arm, pushing up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark.
"Brackium Emendo."
Why did he heal the boy? Severus wasn't sure, though he was certainly relieved when the screeching stopped. He sat back down, catching Minerva's nod of approval out of the corner of his eye.
"So," she said, "I assume this wasn't just an isolated incident? Dressing up the statues, painting messages on the walls, sneaking into Miss Granger's room…"
"Mr. Ashwood was responsible for those things, yes," Severus said. "And quite a few others besides."
"Like what?"
"Private notes, tampering with my personal items…"
"Don't forget the snakes," Hermione said.
He hadn't been planning to mention that, though in the end, he supposed it was best to do so. The fact was, the boy was dangerous. It would be best for everyone if he was punished in accordance with his crimes.
"I see," Minerva said. "Do you have any proof?"
"About that incident?"
"Any of them."
"You don't believe…" He stared at her, stunned.
"Professor McGonagall, please," Hermione said. "I saw him use the Cruciatus on Professor Snape, I heard him…"
"Of course I believe you. Both of you. If he is to appear before the Wizengamot, however…"
"Ah, yes," Severus said, relieved she was taking the threat seriously. "Additional proof will make for a stronger case."
Minerva nodded. "Exactly."
"We have his wand," Hermione pointed out. "Proof that he cast an Unforgivable. He's got the Dark Mark, and…"
"So does he!" Ashwood said, jabbing a finger at Severus.
"Professor Snape has already been tried and exonerated, Mr. Ashwood. His past is none of your concern."
"It certainly isn't," Severus agreed. "At any rate, we also have quite a few messages we could pass along, which certain experts might be able to trace back to him. That probably won't be necessary, however."
Minerva frowned. "Why not?
"Because the boy will never be able to withstand a serious interrogation. His irrationality diminishes his self-control, particularly where the Dark Lord is concerned. That feeble, pathetic creature… I don't know why anyone would still be willing to serve him, but…"
"Feeble?!" Ashwood shouted. "He was the most powerful wizard in existence! If you hadn't betrayed him…"
"Oh yes," Minerva said, her lips twitching. "I see your point."
She summoned the Ministry soon thereafter, presenting them with the jar Hermione had conjured. Ashwood had been a bit harder to catch now that his injury had been healed, but they'd found a simple solution for that. Minerva had transformed, too, executing an impressive leap as she caught the locust in her mouth.
"Well," she said as the Aurors departed. "I'm glad that's resolved, though it's always a shame to lose another student."
Severus nodded, though at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. All he could think of was how exhausted he was, his muscles aching from what had been an extraordinarily difficult night. He sighed in relief as he and Hermione were dismissed, hoping he had the strength to walk back down to the dungeons.
"Sir?"
"Miss Granger."
"About the map… I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but…"
He held up a hand to stop her, giving his head a little shake. "Later."
She didn't press the issue, bidding him good night before she headed in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, he made it to the dungeons somehow, yawning hugely as he staggered into his office. He didn't even attempt to enter his quarters, falling asleep right there at his desk.