I Was Right
Chapter 2: Family Matters
Severus Snape, third year student at Hogwarts, was starting to learn that belonging in Slytherin was uphill work. An unseen but tangible atmosphere of competition and power struggle hung in the air like the dampness in their dungeon common room. He also discovered, however, that power games were something he was very good at playing--and while he could not take active leadership, like that bully Avery, he found he could manipulate his fellow House students quite easily. He was a subtler kind of bully, a "slick, slimy, sly, sneaky git of a puppeteer," as Sirius Black, James Potter's sidekick, put it.
Both Snape and Potter had made enemies, the worst in each other. Potter's gang and Snape loathed each other like model Gryffindors and a Slytherin, sometimes with results that landed all five of them in McGonagall's or even Dumbledore's office. Snape did stay out of trouble more than Potter and Black did, but that didn't mean he had the upper hand--even Slytherins had to admit Potter and co. had won the round when Snape found himself parading in front of the entire Great Hall in frilly, moth-eaten dress robes and a moldy (but still quite ornate) wimple.
Consuming as these enmities were, more important things were afoot. Uneasy rumors circulated about a Dark Lord who was recruiting supporters and funding. They said this man's power, if man he was, was in Grindelwald's league. Snape and his friends--Lestrange, Jin, Avery, Rosier, and Wilkes--huddled down often to talk about him, this Lord Voldemort, with excitement and awe in their voices.
"It's what we've all been waiting for," Mei-lin Jin declared, leaning forward in her stone chair. "Lord Voldemort is a wizard of immense power and charisma, he will purge the wizarding blood of any impurity and reward richly whoever follows him. He will give power to those who deserve it but have only too long been shunted aside!" She looked around with calm triumph in her face, a gleam in her hooded eyes.
Us? Shunted aside? Snape heard a sarcastic voice in the back of his mind, one that kept popping up all too often these days. Sure, most of our families climbed down a notch or two for our dealings with the Dark Arts, most recently with Ol' Grindelwald, he thought. Most people would think it's only what we deserve, no, far less than what we deserve, Mei-lin. Snape squelched the voice with horror. What in the world? Was he going mental?
"We have to redouble our study," Alan took up, he was always going along with Mei-lin. "We want to be ready when the time comes..."
Study. Severus knew what kind of 'study' he meant. It was stuff that could get them expelled, if the Old Fool (as the gang had taken to calling Dumbledore) found out about it all. Though he tried not to let on, he knew most of the material they were going through, anyway. Yes, he would be ready. Readier than any of the others when it came to knowledge. But in mindset? He wasn't sure. Come off it! He told himself angrily.
He knew what was making him feel this way tonight. He had read a copy of The Daily Prophet lying on a table in the common room, and had seen Septimius.
The picture and the article that went with it were both perfectly innocent. So innocent and so respectable that he knew those fools at the Ministry of Magic would never suspect a thing.
However, he felt the presence of a shadow that was beginning to touch his life. Like Mei-lin said, this was what they'd all been waiting for, but it just wasn't the same now that it was actually happening, now that his brother...
He stood up abruptly. "Instant Destruction curses tonight, isn't it? Excuse me this time, though. I'm not feeling well. I'll catch up later." Ha! Catch up! He knew the Instant Destruction curses by heart, dreaming of how he'd use them as he read about them under sputtering lamplight into the wee hours of the morning.
He left the table amid the gang's "Good night"s and walked up to the dorm. As he ascended the stairs, he thought he heard Rosier say, "Reckon we ought to tell him?" and Avery replying in a dismissive voice.
Once he had changed and washed, he took out the picture and article he had cut out of the paper.
He went to his bed, carefully drew the curtains all the way shut, and looked at the picture again. Septimius never came home for the summer holidays and seldom for Christmas--their mother visited him, instead. Severus had not seen his brother's face for three years.
Septimius was taller, more intimidating and intelligent-looking than Severus ever remembered. In the picture he stood shaking hands with a middle-aged wizard whose hair looked white in the black-and white photograph. Next to the middle-aged man stood a young man with the same white-looking hair and pale, pointed pictures.
The caption to the picture said Mr. Malfoy (with son Lucius) was greeting Septimius Snape, valedictorian graduate from Durmstrang Academy, who had just returned to England after finishing his studies.
The article was brief: It said a reception was held on December 23 to celebrate the opening of the International Society of Wizard Genealogy, which had benefited greatly from the Malfoy family's generous donations.
Clever, Severus thought. Very clever. Genealogy, eh? He would have liked to sneer "Genealogy?" and dismiss Septimius as a hopeless bore, but he knew better.
The Malfoys. Everyone knew the Malfoys had always had dealings with the Dark Arts--but nothing was ever definitely proved, and they were leaders in the wizarding community, upstanding and respectable wizards: For instance, they made donations to worthy causes from the immense wealth no one quite knew how they'd accumulated.
And genealogy. Whoever was behind the founding of this Society (including Malfoy and son) could now use it to tell who was pureblooded and who was not. Also, they could just as easily find out whom to threaten with the safety of whom, the most vulnerable points for forcing submission, cooperation, or worse.
So who was behind the Malfoys?
Severus had a horrible feeling that he knew. The International Society of Wizard Genealogy was just one of the respectable fronts, besides being a useful information pool, for the Dark Lord's rise. He had a feeling the Malfoys' round of charity donations was just beginning.
And Septimius was involved. This should not have come as a shock, or even a surprise, but Severus found himself deeply disturbed. This just wasn't how he imagined he would feel. Crazy forebodings rose to mind, and his sleep, when it finally washed over him, was an uneasy one.
Next day they had Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors. Trudging through the slushy post-Christmas snow after a none-too-restful night was not Snape's idea of fun, and Rosier, Wilkes and Avery's excited whispers got on his nerves. He didn't care what they were up to, though usually he put up with their harebrained plots.
The day's lesson turned out to be about--harpies. Great, thought Severus as their screeches grated on his already sharp nerves. It just doesn't get any better than this.
Professor Kettleburn bravely addressed the students. "Harpies," he said rather lamely despite his efforts, waving a hand in the direction of the cages. He had been rather nervous and off-the-edge around dangerous creatures ever since a drunken yeti had thrown him clear to the castle steps. Seeing how the students edged away, he tried to reassure them. "Don't worry--the cages are locked with locking charms."
He kept looking over his shoulder convulsively, though, at the creatures with vulture bodies and women's heads. There were three harpies, but they were sounding like thirty cats and vultures tied together in a bag. Snape noticed Potter and his gang nearing the cages, looking fascinated. Show-offs, he thought irritably, trying to shake off a headache.
"Native to Greece, these creatures snatch food and prey on animals and humans, especially children. They obviously do not make great pets--" the professor smiled nervously--"but once tamed, they can be used to hunt animals that would otherwise be difficult to catch. But not to hunt for food: A little-known fact about harpies is that their teeth and claws are poisonous. They were also used in armies for scouting and in battle--"
Snape saw, out of the corner of his eye, Avery exchanging startled glances with Rosier and Wilkes. He closed his own eyes. He was sick of noticing things others didn't and hearing and seeing things he wasn't supposed to. Ten years of Mother and Septimius probably had something to do with it. He'd always been on constant watch for displeasure, wishing he could please her once, just once... the headache grew to a screaming pitch.
And then there really were screams. Human ones.
His eyes flew open, for a split second not comprehending what they saw. A harpy was in the air, the cage that had held it gaping open. Kettleburn lay on the snow, knocked out cold. The harpy just soared for a second, as if rejoicing in newfound freedom, then remembered its instinct as a bird of prey and looked down upon the sea of humans below. One would catch her eye in particular, Snape knew. Without knowing what he was doing he rushed forward, driven by a blind urgency that had no reason and no words.
"Stupefy!" He could hear Black yell, as Potter cried "Impedimenta!". Snape knew it would be useless--the creature was too large and magical.
The harpy swept down, its ugly form stunningly graceful in the moment of flight. Lily Evans, calm and pale as her namesake, drew a dark-haired girl she stood with behind her her at that instant, shielding her body with her own. The screams rang in Snape's ears as he whipped out his wand just the way he had practiced so often. He raised it without the slightest idea of what he would do. He was not aware of the shrieks and cries for help; he did not feel the bodies around him falling flat in fear or jostling to get away. He did not know if the curse would work on a magical creature; he didn't even know what curse he was using, or that he was waving his wand and crying out the ancient, deadly Words. He only knew a blind urge to kill, kill this constant doubt, a shadow sweeping down on a red-gold point of light.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The harpy dropped on top of Lily, and she was separated from her friend's frail form as she was dragged heavily to the ground by its weight.
They both just lay there for a brief moment, the creature with woman's face and the girl. Then the moment lasted for two, three, four seconds, and when Snape bent down to pull the harpy off it stumbled onto the snow, stiff and unmarked, the excitement of the hunt still etched on its face. He bent again, this time over Lily.
He felt himself suddenly and violently pushed out of the way. He tried to get up but found that up and down no longer seemed to make sense. He just sat or lay (not knowing which) there for a second, trying to convince himself that the bruises on his shoulder and side were the only things wrong with him. I can't lie here, he thought, not in front of Potter and his cronies.
The thought brought the ground back under him, and he pulled himself in the opposite direction. He swayed dangerously, but somehow found the ground again and slid a foot against it to stop himself. And then everything came rushing back, the temporarily deprived senses, like the rushing sound he had heard only moments ago.
The first thing he saw was Potter bending over Evans, Black standing behind him. The next thing he saw was Professor Redwood, their Herbology professor, making his way over to them, crossing the grounds with alarmed haste.
"What has happened here?" His eyes swept over the frightened students, Potter holding a pale Evans, who seemed to have come around a little, a shaken Kettleburn just getting up with the help of two students, the harpy's dead body. Everything was relatively quiet, for the other two harpies seemed subdued, letting out small whimpering noises as they tried to reach their sister.
Everyone started talking at once.
"Please, sir--"
"A harpy was turned loose--"
"It hurt Lily--"
"The Slytherin--"
Redwood held up a hand. "We shall take the injured to the hospital wing first." He busily conjured stretchers, one for Kettleburn, one for Evans. "Lestrange, round up the Slytherins. Black, please do the same with Gryffindor students. Go to your respective common rooms and await further instructions. Anyone else injured?"
The students' eyes suddenly turned to Snape. "I don't think so." Snape heard himself say. "Kaur was right behind Evans when it happened, though--" he knew this was not what people were expecting, but he didn't care to draw attention to himself.
"I'm not hurt," The dark girl's voice was very quiet. "I saw you fall, Severus."
Snape flinched at the use of his first name. "Only because Potter the Great bowled me over," he sneered. He whirled around and headed for the castle. He was walking very quickly, but the horror of what he had done caught up with him nonetheless. He vaguely remembered breaking into a run, pitching headfirst into the snow and shouting at his fellow Slytherins to get away from him when they tried to help him up. Next thing he knew, he was back in the common room sitting off in a corner, alone. People were talking in hushed voices, and he could feel glances coming his way.
And then the summons came. "Gryffindor and Slytherin third years, please come to the Great Hall within ten minutes."
He raised himself heavily. He wasn't sure whether he'd done right or wrong, but he knew he wasn't going to enjoy this little talk.
Twenty people shuffled into the enormous Hall, the two Houses carefully ignoring each other as they entered. Professor McGonagall, head of Gyffindor, and Professor Baddock, head of Slytherin, were already there waiting for them, looking grave. Professor Redwood entered shortly, sitting down between them.
"How are Randall and Miss Evans?" Professor McGonagall inquired.
"Better than they seemed. Professor Kettleburn and Miss Evans suffered concussion from a fall and a rather nasty shock, but no scratches or bites, thankfully."
There was an audible sigh of relief from the Gryffindors.
"And now," Redwood turned to the students sternly, "I want to know exactly what happened. Miss Kaur?"
Indira Kaur, slightly flustered to be the center of attention, nevertheless spoke calmly. "We were learning about harpies, Professors. I-I was right up front with Lily, and I could see one of them was gnawing at a bar in its cage. It looked quite sturdy, though, so I didn't pay attention--"
Potter raised his hand. "Yes, Potter?"
"And suddenly it came zooming out, knocking Professor Kettleburn over before he could stop it. I think it wanted to get free first, before it thought of hunting."
Kaur shuddered. "Then it flew down on us. Lily--Lily pulled me behind her back, holding herself in front of me." She took a silent, deep breath.
"And then?" By then she had everyone's full attention.
"Then, the Slyth--Snape cast a spell and it fell on her like dead weight." There was a slight ring in the word 'dead.'
There was a brief silence. Redwood cleared his throat. "Other members of the staff went out to the grounds to investigate the creature, and it was confirmed to be dead. Uninjured outwardly, it died quite a sudden death." As the silence grew even more oppressive, he asked, "And what was this spell?"
"Avada Kedavra," whispered Pettigrew.
Snape had no time to register the various responses to this statement, as every eye in the hall bored into him this time. He braced himself, but the question that came next was something he had not expected at all.
"What do you know about the Rust Inducing curse and Concealment Charms, Snape?"
"What? I believe I know both," he answered without thinking. At that moment even Wilkes could have told him to feign ignorance, but he had been caught completely off guard.
"A bar in the cage of the dead harpy, just where the locking spell was, was completely chewed through," Redwood continued, watching Snape's face carefully. "We were puzzled--even harpies cannot chew through iron bars that way--until we noticed a Concealment Charm on that particular part of the bar. Once the charm was deleted the bar was revealed to have been rusted almost to the core--something a harpy, with the help of poison on its teeth, could work its way through."
So was that was what Avery and his lot had been up to. Snape looked dully up at the Herbology professor, at a complete loss for words. He was in deep and hot water if Redwood thought--
"So, Mr. Snape, why is it that you were the first to act in an extremely short time--almost as if you knew what was going to happen?"
Severus had been caught off guard again. Not only was he not the first to act(the Gryffindors conveniently leaving out Potter and Black's failed attempts), but Redwood's accusation was as flimsy as what he himself had against Avery and the others. Please, Professor, I heard my roommates talking about a plan they didn't tell me about, and they looked surprised when they heard mention of harpies' poison... It was laughable.
"I did not sabotage the cage, professor, if that's what you are implying," he spat angrily. "You have no proof against me."
The eyes of all present except four--Avery, Rosier, Wilkes, and Lily Evans' friend--were gazing at him with deep suspiscion now. He could have bitten his tongue after that little outburst; Great Wizards, he sounded defensive!
McGonagall spoke up. "Ryder, it's true. Without evidence--"
"Are you aware," Redwood went on as if he had not heard, "that the use of the Avada Kedavra curse is a serious crime?" His eyes were strangely cold and flint-like. He seemed almost a different person from the hearty, popular Herbology professor.
"--When used against a fellow human being," Snape took up evenly.
Then he shuddered involuntarily. He had looked only at the harpy's face when it lay dead on the ground, and it had looked all too human; and he had not only seen a woman, he had seen Juno Snape when he killed it. Ridiculous, he told himself, as he had been telling himself all along, this is a harpy you're talking about, not matricide. The thought did not prevent a convulsive jerk in his hand. He looked up as Redwood said, "-punishable by suspension or expulsion from this school, even a jail sentence."
Baddock stood up. "Redwood, this is ridiculous. You are judging a student on grounds of prejudice-"
Redwood flushed. "I am merely--"
--A certified idiot, Snape finished for him.
"Prejudice against the spell the boy used in order to save a fellow student from grave danger, and prejudice against his House!" Baddock roared.
What promised to escalate into a shouting match was brought firmly to an end by McGonagall.
"In any case, the Headmaster must be informed--directly," she interrupted, placing herself sternly between the angry men. She addressed Baddock and Redwood. "Matt, Ryder, take Mr. Snape up to the Headmaster's office. If you don't need to see Madam Pomfrey first, that is, Snape." She added, casting a concerned look in Severus' direction.
"I'm fine, Professor," Snape said, at the same time that Redwood said "Come with me, Minerva--a student in your House was attacked, after all." Snape had to restrain the mad urge to burst out laughing hysterically right then and there. Afraid of being attacked by two Slytherins in the hallways, are you? Still breathing heavily to check himself, he left the Hall with three teachers in tow.