I Was Right
Chapter 3: New Impressions
A long, winding walk through the corridors finally brought the four, a student and three teachers, to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Though still with that slight feeling of vertigo, Snape remembered the way fairly well. He supposed it couldn't be a good sign that he was here for the third time in three years. This was the first time without Potter and his friends, too.
"Jelly Slugs!" Professor McGonagall said to the gargoyle, and Snape rolled his eyes as the creature moved aside. Last time he'd been here, the password had been Ice Mice. Did the Old Fool care about security at all? Any fool could get through by rattling off a list of sweets.
Professor Baddock knocked on the Headmaster's door. "Come in!" called the cheerful voice of Albus Dumbledore. Here it comes, Severus silently braced himself. Up to now, he had only thought of facing the Headmaster. But now, the sick realization was coming over him that it was Albus Dumbledore he was about to face, the wizard who defeated Grindelwald, one of the most powerful wizards alive and the greatest foe of the Dark Arts.
Letting a dangerous magical creature escape confinement was a serious offense in itself--but even if he could convince Dumbledore he'd had nothing to with that, how much tolerance would such a wizard have for the usage of Dark magic by a student?
He entered the office with suddenly leaden footsteps, Professors Flitwick and Baddock on either side of him, Redwood bringing up the rear. It's like being arrested, he couldn't help thinking.
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, looked up from his desk, his face and manner mild and inquiring, his blue eyes twinkling behind the half-moon spectacles. Snape knew the mildness was deceptive--underneath the kind and jovial old man lay a terrible and fearsome wizard, behind those benign eyes immense strenth and shrewdness that could strike out at enemies when least expected. He had heard plenty of stories...
"Minerva, Matt, Ryder, and Severus! I was going to call you. Please have a seat, all of you."
"Headmaster," Redwood began stiffly, once they had settled down, "No doubt you know that an unfortunate incident took place during a Care of Magical Creatures class--"
"Yes, a report came to me," Dumbledore said. "I still do not know the full story, however."
"That is one of the reasons we are here," Redwood said. "That, and--" he looked in Snape's direction. "--another matter we thought you should decide."
"Please." Dumbledore leaned forward in his seat. Redwood had just opened his mouth when Baddock interrupted him. "Headmaster, I would like to be the one to recount the events. I'm afraid my colleague has certain biases--"
"But you were not there," Redwood countered.
"Neither were you, when the actual events in question occurred. And you are determined to incriminate--"
Dumbledore raised a hand, stopping both Redwood and Baddock effectively. "Minerva, if you please."
Redwood and Baddock looked disgruntled, but seemed to acknowledge grudgingly that this was best.
When Professor McGonagall finished her completely objective retelling of events, there was a short pause. Dumbledore turned to Severus with concern.
"Are you feeling quite well, Severus?"
"What?" Now this was something else he had not expected. Why would Dumbledore inquire after his health in the face of such serious charges?
"I'm f-fine, sir," he answered, scowling inwardly at the stutter.
Dumbledore scrutinized him closely over the glasses perched on his crooked nose. "Are you sure?"
"I --"
"Was there a feeling of vertigo or great weakness, perhaps confusion immediately after you slew the harpy?"
Snape just couldn't see what this had to do with anything. Was this some kind of trap? He shook his head, trying to clear it.
"Headmaster," Redwood said loudly. "The charges against this boy include facilitating the escape of a dangerous creature from confinement and using the worst kind of Dark Arts curse!"
Dumbledore turned his eyes to gaze piercingly at the Herbology professor this time. "Innocent until proven guilty, Ryder. There is no proof that Severus had anything to do with the harpy's escape. As for the spell he used, he used it on a non-human creature in defense of a fellow student." At his words, Baddock looked at Redwood in triumph.
"But Headmaster! He couldn't have had more than seconds to act, at most! How could he have acted so quickly without advance knowledge? And consider how quick he was to use the Killing Curse, something most students his age wouldn't even know about, much less know how to work!"
Just go ahead, Severus sneered inwardly. Go ahead, say it--'This Slytherin boy is evil!' And he would be right. All those hours of Dark Arts studying, practicing curses on mice and rabbits, sneaking into the Restricted section of the library for more information he wasn't supposed to know... he was evil, all right. A dirty, evil Slytherin. He suddenly felt very tired.
"There will be an investigation into who was behind the harpy's release," Dumbledore said, his tone final. "On the use of the Killing Curse Mr. Snape is cleared of all responsibility."
"But--" Redwood began again, but was silenced by a look from the Headmaster.
"And now I wish to speak to Severus alone," said Dumbledore. "You are all excused."
The three teachers took their leave, Redwood glaring at Snape all the way. What's his problem, Snape wondered fleetingly.
"Now, Severus," Dumbledore went on as if there had been no interruption, "did you experience such symptoms?"
Snape found it slightly easier to speak now that he was not surrounded by professors. Feeling hugely relieved and not so apprehensive as before, he nodded. It would not be a good idea to lie to the Headmaster unless it was absolutely necessary, especially since he also happened to be one of the most powerful wizards in the world.
"Yes," he replied shortly. He didn't feel like going into details.
"Why didn't you go see Madam Pomfrey, then?"
To that, Severus had no good answer at all. Pride, perhaps? No. Now that he thought about it, it was something else. Something, some fear...
"You need not fear it was a particular effect of using the Avada Kedavra curse." Dumbledore's eyes regarded him behind the spectacles, grave yet warm. "Such symptoms can take place when one uses a spell beyond one's capability."
Severus was startled. Yes, that was just it! He'd been afraid using Dark magic had effected him--he hadn't wanted anyone to know that, not even Madam Pomfrey.
"I must say it is exceptional, an underage wizard killing a large magical creature on such short notice...Avada Kedavra requires quite a bit of magic, you know." Was that a trace of a compliment in Dumbledore's voice? Severus looked at him suspiciously.
"But it is Dark magic," he couldn't help saying. He had no delusions--he had stopped the harpy when Potter and Black could not, not because he had more magical power but because he had had an overwhelming urge to kill at the moment, something the Killing Curse required. Why was Albus Dumbledore, of all people, talking about Avada Kedavra as if it were just any spell?
"True. And there are better ways to react to dangerous situations. Stunning the creature would have been preferable, for instance." He was right. If Potter and Black had had time to coordinate their efforts and cast, for instance, the Stunning Charm at the same time, they would have stopped the harpy without killing it. "However, if you had not acted quickly, Miss Evans might have been seriously injured or even died."
"Are you saying--" he couldn't believe he was having this conversation with Albus Dumbledore, but he was hooked-- "that the ends justify the means?"
Dumbledore looked at him sharply. "No, Severus. That is why I asked to speak to you privately. You will not be punished for what you have done, but there are some things you need to know."
Severus' mind was buzzing with the talk he had had with Dumbledore as he made his way down the stairs from the Headmaster's office.
Did Dumbledore really mean the things he said? No one had ever spoken to him like that before, as if it was important for him to understand...as if he were someone capable of making choices, who needed information to make the right choices.
He emerged from next to the gargoyle, trying to get his thoughts in order. Just then something moved in the hallway before him, and he saw a glint of red in the torchlight. Someone was standing down the hallway, leaning lightly against the wall.
It was Evans.
"Evans." His heart sank. Not only was her presence completely unexpected, he didn't feel like seeing her at all. He didn't have anything to say, he didn't have anything to hear--or did he? He shook his head again, hoping the aftereffects of the spell were making him hallucinate.
She was still there though, a vivid point of light in the darkening hallway. She came forward to stand before him.
"I thought you were at the hospital wing," he said stupidly.
Evans smiled. "I was, when Professor McGonagall came to check on me. She said the Headmaster was speaking to you, so I snuck out to wait for you."
Severus stared. "Why?"
"I just wanted to say--thank you," she said quietly.
Severus suddenly flushed deeply. All the things he had said and done for two years, all the insults and the bigotry, came flooding back. "I don't deserve that," he said before he could stop himself. "Evans, I'm really--"
"It's okay. I don't want to hear it." She looked him straight in the eyes and he could tell it really didn't matter to her anymore. Amazed, he gazed back. How could she put the past away, just like that?
"And, as way of thanks, how about a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade weekend? My treat." She smiled winningly, and Severus' insides went suddenly warm as if he had already swallowed a mouthful of butterbeer. He had never in his life been offered a gesture of unconditional friendliness in this way. Though he himself never suspected it, he had been badly starved for real companionship.
"Sure, why not?" He did not smile--he was painfully out of practice--but managed something to the effect; his thin lips lost some of their their hard lines and his eyes grew slightly warmer as his usual cold glare receded.
"I'll see you then. Two o' clock okay for you?"
He nodded, and she waved and turned away. He watched her go for a moment, then turned the other way to return to the dungeons.
Dumbledore had excused him from classes for that day and the next, but Severus had no intention of missing the next day's classes as well. He was very glad to miss out on History of Magic, however, and decided to take Dumbledore's advice to sleep off the aftereffects of the spell.
"It can be compared to physical overexertion, except that it is one of the mind," Dumbledore had said. "Unless additional damage occurs, your natural defenses and healing capability are the best cure of all. For the mind," he had said with twinkling eyes, "these kick in in the form of dreams."
Dumbledore had wanted him to know a few things, all right. He did not speak for long, but his words still rankled in Severus' brains.
"I will not talk about the difference between right or wrong, or why the Dark Arts are evil," he had said, pacing the office. "These are matters too weighty to comprehend fully, and besides it is not for lack of knowledge of good and evil that people do evil things--most people know, even without being told, that it is wrong to hurt innocent people for profit or power. It is when lust for power or vengeance or recognition overcomes the need to do the right thing that people do the wrong thing." He turned to the thirteen-year-old wizard, robes damp with melted snow and grimy with dirt, sitting in his office and gazing at him mutely.
"Severus, but I will tell you one thing. One can never hurt another without hurting one's own self. Every time someone kills or inflicts pain on another, something dies within himself as well, until finally one becomes a mere husk, incapable of feeling the full joys and pains that life brings. And that is death before death, worse than that physical death that so many fear. Do you understand what I am saying?"
The boy shook his head wordlessly. He comprehended the words but did not understand what the Headmaster meant. ...
As he sat on the edge of his bed, feet touching the cold stone floor, Snape suddenly felt a cold hollowness overtake him. "Why?" He said to the empty dormitory room. Why didn't you ever speak to me like that? He asked silently. Why did you never give me words that showed you cared what my life would be like?
Inside his head Dumbledore's voice continued. "I will not tell you what and what not to study," he had said. "For knowledge truly is power, and to face the Dark we must first have understanding, instead of shunning reality."
The full import of his words did not strike Severus for a moment. Then he gave a violent jump and leapt out of his chair. "You knew?" He cried. "You knew and never let on?"
"Severus," the Headmaster's voice was not stern; it was firm, but reassuring and kind. "You are already gaining quite a reputation for your knowledge of the Dark Arts. And after today I am afraid it will become even more heightened."
Feeling idiotic, Snape sat back down. He now looked at Dumbledore with apprehension.
"While I know it is dangerous knowledge, it would be wrong of me to stop you against your will, or punish you for it. But remember what I have said; once you act, the consequences of your actions will always come back to you, and it is something you cannot escape.
"I see power in you, Severus," Dumbledore went on. "Not only magical power or intelligence, but also the power of passion and will. In the times to come, and they are dark times, you will have your role to play in the great struggle. So for the sake of all you hold dear, for the sake of the lives and hopes you might save, take care of yourself--have affection and respect for yourself, and do not hurt yourself out of uncertainty or hatred." Snape was hardly breathing when Dumbledore looked directly into his eyes as if searching his very soul.
The moment passed. "And now, I have kept you long enough. You are excused from classes for today and tomorrow." It was then that Dumbledore had suggested he have some sleep to get over the aftereffects of overexertion. Severus rose to leave.
"And Severus," the Headmaster called as Snape was opening the door to the office, "please do not hesitate to come anytime you need me."
Unable to speak, Severus had nodded curtly, bowed, and left. He did not hear Dumbledore's light sigh as he closed the door behind him.
Why? Severus asked again as he sat on his bed, his head in his hands. Why couldn't you have told me all those things? One such talk with you, and I would have treasured its memory for eternity, never straying from your words...
When Father was killed by those who dare call themselves Aurors, did vengeance become so important to you that you no longer cared what became of Septmius' and my lives? Were we--are we just tools to achieve your ends? Did you judge us as you would judge instruments, and favor Septimius because he was the better suited to your purposes? Why did you never tell me I could always come to you when I needed you?
He lay down on the bedsheets, stubbornly refusing to cry. One word of kindness, Mother, one affectionate look, and I would have held onto its memory like I would a precious gemstone and never let go...
With these thoughts he fell fast asleep, not quite realizing that he had just gone through a day that could change his life.