Furies
"Why'd they have to arrest him? He saved me, not try to kill me, Professor!" Harper exclaimed to Dumbledore.
"I know he didn't do it," Dumbledore said, "but there's nothing we can do. There's a lot of evidence against him. Being missing, spiting the Potters, and once, a long time ago, he made a wrong decision."
"But he's family--"
"They don't know that," Dumbledore cut her off.
"You still hired him, though, even after his…past."
"Yes, but I know Severus. I know he wouldn't do it."
"Can't you do something?"
"No."
"If they convict him, what'll he get?" asked Harper.
"It's different than in the muggle world. They are going to charge him with being a known deatheater, too," said Dumbledore quietly. "I don't know what they'll give him."
"What?! They can't!"
"They can, because he was."
"But he's not anymore."
"I know," said Dumbledore gently.
***
"Let me out," hissed Snape.
"Can't."
"I didn't do it." Snape was sitting in a magically reinforced jail cell. Wandless, potionless, helpless. The cell was even more dark and damp than his beloved dungeon. He was to be held in the cell until his trial, and with the courts the way they are, that could be for a long time.
***
"Father, you got Snape arrested!" said a boy to his father.
"So," grinned the father. "He was a traitor to Master. He deserves it doesn't he?"
"I guess," whined the boy.
"That's my boy. I can't fail master again, though, he should be glad I got Snape in jail. Now get, son."