Chapter Two
In which Hermione sends letters and has a dream
Hermione was good at researching things. She had become quite adept at finding information that was difficult, even nearly impossible to get through normal, ordinary means. She hunted down more than twenty-year-old reports on the three deaths ... and two suspicious disappearances. The inquiry, a rather serious game of question-and-answer, would probably be conducted with the use of Veritaserum, with Snape's permission, of course. To refuse was a sure sign of guilt. So whether the Ministry knew of his involvement in the murders already or not was a moot point. They were certain to find out.
The reports were rather chilling, she had to admit, but she had read a lot worse. Those that Lucius Malfoy had generated, for instance, but she had hardly realized how dark her potions professor's past had really been. Snape had been implicated in many crimes, including abetting the murders of James and Lily Potter, which she knew almost certainly wasn't true. If Severus had known, then surely he had informed someone. Dumbledore, for instance. The elder wizard had vouched for him once, after all, when he was first accused of being a Death Eater. Although, the matter had come to light again ...
"Of all the times to be on holiday or sabbatical ... or wherever Dumbledore's gone." she murmured, making magical copies of all the reports.
Hermione sighed as she tucked the massive pile of scrolls into her satchel. It had first occurred to her to beg off the case when she read about the deaths of the two Aurors. After four Voldemort-free years, the crimes would probably be treated as all the more heinous. People were becoming more sensitive again. They would be eager to throw the book at Snape and forget all about those dark days once more. Sweep everything under the rug, or into Azkaban, as the case may be.
"Dumbledore knew everything he had done ... and he still trusted Snape." she told herself, brushing the thought from her mind. This was something she had to do.
Hermione fastened the clasps of her bag as she prepared to leave the archives. She knew that her next stop had to be the Ministry Owlery. No help for Severus would be found in the dusty cellar containing the ancient past. It could only come from three people, two of whom she knew would be reluctant to help their former professor.
The sun was just setting over muggle London when Hermione reached the top of the Ministry of Magic offices and the Owlery. A golden autumn haze hung over the city. It was lovely in its way. She clambered into the small room full of owls that were just beginning to wake for the evening and selected a hardy long-range barn owl. He began preening his feathers while Hermione read over her letter one last time:
"Dear Professor Dumbledore, I hope this message finds its way to you. Harry never said one way or the other about his letters. In any case I'm sure he sends his regards with mine.
"I don't know whether you've heard or not, so I think I should begin at the beginning. Professor Snape is under investigation for his involvement with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. You may be the only one who can vouch for him, for everything that he did in secret to protect Harry and Hogwarts. I should also add that I am his legal counsel. He has his reasons I suppose for choosing me over someone more experienced, but nevertheless, all the lawyers in the world can't help him if you don't put in a good word on his behalf. Please come to London as soon as you can. The official inquiry begins in just six days.
"Love, Hermione Granger, attorney at law, formerly of Gryffindor House ."
"That will have to do." she sighed, sealing the scroll and giving it to the owl. "For Albus Dumbledore." she told it.
The owl cocked its head quizzically before flying from the Owlery and out over the city, its destination uncertain, if not unknown.
After selecting two smaller owls nearby, Hermione removed two more messages from among her effects: one for Harry and one for Ron. The scrolls were small and nearly identical. With any luck they were both in London, but Harry could be anywhere, she knew, playing Quidditch or traveling with the team. For that matter, it was possible that Ron was on assignment somewhere. He had stopped by for a few minutes some weeks before, shortly after returning from a case in France and visit with Fleur Delacour who was teaching at her alma mater. She didn't know for sure how either would take the news or her plea for assistance, but she knew that she had to ask. Without Dumbledore, The-Boy-Who-Lived and his best friend could be Snape's only chance, and Hermione wondered if they thought he deserved one.
"No matter. It's all anyone could do." she told herself, watching the owls wing their way through the evening sky, which was quickly turning dark.
Hermione was exhausted by the time she reached her apartment in the wizarding part of London near Diagon Alley. But there was still so much left to do. She couldn't just sit around, waiting for responses to her letter. There was reading to be done, starting with the reports she had not finished in the archives. While hardly entertaining bedtime reading, she wanted to be well-versed in their contents before her next meeting with Snape. Within minutes of entering her small, cluttered apartment, her work desk by the window was covered with scrolls and loose pages.
As the night wore on and the scrolls found their way from the desk to the rug, Hermione began to realize something. Snape had never acted alone. Except perhaps in the case of the shopkeeper, as he had characterized the event, there was nothing in anything that she read that indicated that he himself had ever killed anyone. Hermione frowned. But he had admitted to as much ... He had given her a number, which seemed to correlate with the ... literature.
"Guilt? Snape?" she questioned, shaking her head.
Trying to guess his motives or his mind were both dangerous games. She could assume nothing. But she could question him as much as she liked. Goodness knew that the Ministry would do so when the time came. She felt unequal to the task that was before her. How difficult would it be to defend a man who deep inside believed himself guilty of such terrible crimes? It would have been easier to defend a man who was guilty and believed himself innocent. Almost, she thought, remembering the Veritaserum.
The corridor was long and dark with a light at the far end, a dismal, gray light that was anything, but cheering. She could feel herself striding purposefully toward it, but she couldn't feel the sense of purpose, only the thudding of her own feet and the echo of more feet behind her as she walked. The lightly treading, soft footfalls of at least three others. Harry? Ron? Dumbledore? She was guessing wildly as the exit drew nearer. Dread crept into her mind, but she could not stop walking, moving forward.
A figure suddenly loomed in her path, black against the gray light. His face was hooded, and he held out one pale hand to halt her. And she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes drifted, looking over his shoulder for a moment, glimpsing an ancient Roman arena behind the man. Or was it a wizard court of law?
"You may not enter here."
"I brought ..."
"No one! You are alone!"
She turned and looked over her shoulder in confusion. He was right. There was no one behind her, no one there.
"But ..." she began.
"You are alone! Give up! Go home!" he barked fiercely, throwing back his hood to reveal the angry, possibly enraged face of Sirius Black.
Hermione screamed, although she wasn't sure why and began running back the way she had come ...
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A/N: Question(s) of the day: Does this story need a better summary? And can everyone tell the last part was a dream? (Don't feel obligated to answer.)
I want to thank everyone who reviewed the first chapter: Penny Clearwater, EireVerde, rhitmcshanm, ress, chris, Lisa, and cloudshape. I really appreciate it!
And I also want to extend a special thanks to all those who were in any way, shape, or form bothered by the wizarding judicial system (because I am too, although it makes things very interesting).
And for the record, I have never watched The Practice.
In which Hermione sends letters and has a dream
Hermione was good at researching things. She had become quite adept at finding information that was difficult, even nearly impossible to get through normal, ordinary means. She hunted down more than twenty-year-old reports on the three deaths ... and two suspicious disappearances. The inquiry, a rather serious game of question-and-answer, would probably be conducted with the use of Veritaserum, with Snape's permission, of course. To refuse was a sure sign of guilt. So whether the Ministry knew of his involvement in the murders already or not was a moot point. They were certain to find out.
The reports were rather chilling, she had to admit, but she had read a lot worse. Those that Lucius Malfoy had generated, for instance, but she had hardly realized how dark her potions professor's past had really been. Snape had been implicated in many crimes, including abetting the murders of James and Lily Potter, which she knew almost certainly wasn't true. If Severus had known, then surely he had informed someone. Dumbledore, for instance. The elder wizard had vouched for him once, after all, when he was first accused of being a Death Eater. Although, the matter had come to light again ...
"Of all the times to be on holiday or sabbatical ... or wherever Dumbledore's gone." she murmured, making magical copies of all the reports.
Hermione sighed as she tucked the massive pile of scrolls into her satchel. It had first occurred to her to beg off the case when she read about the deaths of the two Aurors. After four Voldemort-free years, the crimes would probably be treated as all the more heinous. People were becoming more sensitive again. They would be eager to throw the book at Snape and forget all about those dark days once more. Sweep everything under the rug, or into Azkaban, as the case may be.
"Dumbledore knew everything he had done ... and he still trusted Snape." she told herself, brushing the thought from her mind. This was something she had to do.
Hermione fastened the clasps of her bag as she prepared to leave the archives. She knew that her next stop had to be the Ministry Owlery. No help for Severus would be found in the dusty cellar containing the ancient past. It could only come from three people, two of whom she knew would be reluctant to help their former professor.
The sun was just setting over muggle London when Hermione reached the top of the Ministry of Magic offices and the Owlery. A golden autumn haze hung over the city. It was lovely in its way. She clambered into the small room full of owls that were just beginning to wake for the evening and selected a hardy long-range barn owl. He began preening his feathers while Hermione read over her letter one last time:
"Dear Professor Dumbledore, I hope this message finds its way to you. Harry never said one way or the other about his letters. In any case I'm sure he sends his regards with mine.
"I don't know whether you've heard or not, so I think I should begin at the beginning. Professor Snape is under investigation for his involvement with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. You may be the only one who can vouch for him, for everything that he did in secret to protect Harry and Hogwarts. I should also add that I am his legal counsel. He has his reasons I suppose for choosing me over someone more experienced, but nevertheless, all the lawyers in the world can't help him if you don't put in a good word on his behalf. Please come to London as soon as you can. The official inquiry begins in just six days.
"Love, Hermione Granger, attorney at law, formerly of Gryffindor House ."
"That will have to do." she sighed, sealing the scroll and giving it to the owl. "For Albus Dumbledore." she told it.
The owl cocked its head quizzically before flying from the Owlery and out over the city, its destination uncertain, if not unknown.
After selecting two smaller owls nearby, Hermione removed two more messages from among her effects: one for Harry and one for Ron. The scrolls were small and nearly identical. With any luck they were both in London, but Harry could be anywhere, she knew, playing Quidditch or traveling with the team. For that matter, it was possible that Ron was on assignment somewhere. He had stopped by for a few minutes some weeks before, shortly after returning from a case in France and visit with Fleur Delacour who was teaching at her alma mater. She didn't know for sure how either would take the news or her plea for assistance, but she knew that she had to ask. Without Dumbledore, The-Boy-Who-Lived and his best friend could be Snape's only chance, and Hermione wondered if they thought he deserved one.
"No matter. It's all anyone could do." she told herself, watching the owls wing their way through the evening sky, which was quickly turning dark.
Hermione was exhausted by the time she reached her apartment in the wizarding part of London near Diagon Alley. But there was still so much left to do. She couldn't just sit around, waiting for responses to her letter. There was reading to be done, starting with the reports she had not finished in the archives. While hardly entertaining bedtime reading, she wanted to be well-versed in their contents before her next meeting with Snape. Within minutes of entering her small, cluttered apartment, her work desk by the window was covered with scrolls and loose pages.
As the night wore on and the scrolls found their way from the desk to the rug, Hermione began to realize something. Snape had never acted alone. Except perhaps in the case of the shopkeeper, as he had characterized the event, there was nothing in anything that she read that indicated that he himself had ever killed anyone. Hermione frowned. But he had admitted to as much ... He had given her a number, which seemed to correlate with the ... literature.
"Guilt? Snape?" she questioned, shaking her head.
Trying to guess his motives or his mind were both dangerous games. She could assume nothing. But she could question him as much as she liked. Goodness knew that the Ministry would do so when the time came. She felt unequal to the task that was before her. How difficult would it be to defend a man who deep inside believed himself guilty of such terrible crimes? It would have been easier to defend a man who was guilty and believed himself innocent. Almost, she thought, remembering the Veritaserum.
The corridor was long and dark with a light at the far end, a dismal, gray light that was anything, but cheering. She could feel herself striding purposefully toward it, but she couldn't feel the sense of purpose, only the thudding of her own feet and the echo of more feet behind her as she walked. The lightly treading, soft footfalls of at least three others. Harry? Ron? Dumbledore? She was guessing wildly as the exit drew nearer. Dread crept into her mind, but she could not stop walking, moving forward.
A figure suddenly loomed in her path, black against the gray light. His face was hooded, and he held out one pale hand to halt her. And she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes drifted, looking over his shoulder for a moment, glimpsing an ancient Roman arena behind the man. Or was it a wizard court of law?
"You may not enter here."
"I brought ..."
"No one! You are alone!"
She turned and looked over her shoulder in confusion. He was right. There was no one behind her, no one there.
"But ..." she began.
"You are alone! Give up! Go home!" he barked fiercely, throwing back his hood to reveal the angry, possibly enraged face of Sirius Black.
Hermione screamed, although she wasn't sure why and began running back the way she had come ...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Question(s) of the day: Does this story need a better summary? And can everyone tell the last part was a dream? (Don't feel obligated to answer.)
I want to thank everyone who reviewed the first chapter: Penny Clearwater, EireVerde, rhitmcshanm, ress, chris, Lisa, and cloudshape. I really appreciate it!
And I also want to extend a special thanks to all those who were in any way, shape, or form bothered by the wizarding judicial system (because I am too, although it makes things very interesting).
And for the record, I have never watched The Practice.