Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story
(more's the pity--they could help pay my student loans) except
for Eve Berger. Nor did I come up with the plot of PoA, and the
scenes and dialogue included in that fab book, which I
humbly reproduce at certain points herein. All that belongs to
J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Raincoast,
Scholastic...the list goes on!
A/N: And back to canon we go... Thanks to my latest reviewer, Abra, and to my patient beta, Joan (aka HyacinthMacaw)
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Chapter 7: Dumbledore's Trust and Miss Berger's Rebellion
Snape followed his fellow teachers to the staffroom after dinner, forced to walk slowly by the bloated waddling of the people in front of him. He would have liked to return to his dungeons, but Minerva McGonagall had been so vocal at the staff table about him being unsocial that he'd decided he should go with them, if only to shut her up for the next few weeks. Besides, he was intending to speak to McGonagall about their annual wager on their respective Quidditch teams; that is, if he could get her alone.
He had just found himself a seat in a corner, well away from the tipsy giggling of McGonagall, Hooch and Vector, when there was a knock at the door.
A head appeared in the doorway: one of the Gryffindor fifth-years, his face a pasty white. Snape immediately sat up and took notice.
Professor McGonagall, you should go up to Gryffindor Tower, it's an emergency, the student said, voice quivering.
Snape could see McGonagall immediately sober up and stand quickly. In an instant, Snape was at her heels, hurrying to Gryffindor Tower. Something was very wrong, and as unofficial third-in-command, he was damn well going to find out what it was.
They arrived to find the sea of students parted for Dumbledore who was peering at a slashed portrait with concern. Snape's brows furrowed slightly at the sight. From the look of those cuts, this had been no prank. Someone had done that with a rather sharp knife, and from the wild nature of the cuts, had been very angry when they had done it.
We've got to find her, Dumbledore was saying, as he turned to see McGonagall and Snape approaching. Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.
McGonagall stared at the damaged painting in horror for one moment, then turned to leave, but was stopped by a high-pitched voice above the crowd.
You'll be lucky! it crowed, and Snape looked up. It was that odious little poltergeist, Peeves. He hated Peeves possibly more than the students did, as Peeves seemed to go out of his way to annoy the Potions Master. Perhaps, however, that was because Snape was a rather easy person to annoy.
What do you mean, Peeves? Dumbledore said in a voice that Snape recognized, the one the Headmaster used when carefully controlling his anger or annoyance.
Peeves seemed to realize this too and immediately went for the deferent approach.
Ashamed, your Headship, sir, Peeves said happily, Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging through the trees. Crying something dreadful. Poor thing. He didn't even attempt to sound sincere in his sympathy.
Did she say who did it? Dumbledore said, his voice even quieter this time.
Peeves looked as though he particularly liked having a secret to impart, and obviously decided to drag out the suspense. Oh yes, Professorhead. He got very angry with her when she wouldn't let him in, you see. He flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his legs. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black.
Some of the students let out shrieks of terror, and McGonagall went white in the face. Even Snape reeled at the news. Black? He'd broken into Hogwarts? But...how? No one could get into Hogwarts who wasn't supposed to! Was it even possible that Black had been able to break through the wards guarding the castle?
Dumbledore was the only one who at least appeared to not be flustered by this news, though Snape knew him well enough to see the signs of worry on the older man's face. Dumbledore's mouth had tightened and there was an odd rigidity to his face which was decidedly out of character.
Turning to Percy, he said, Mr. Weasley, please escort the students back down to the Great Hall, then waited for the students to leave before addressing McGonagall and Snape. Minerva, please notify Professors Flitwick and Sprout that I would like them to bring their students to the Great Hall as well. Severus, take your own students down to the Great Hall and meet me there. We will have to organize a thorough search of the school.
Snape nodded, then hurried down to the dungeons and the entrance to the Slytherin dorms. As he entered the common room, he saw that most of the students were still awake and in the room. Good, that would make things faster. The sound of talking died as every face turned to look at him in confusion.
The Headmaster has ordered that all students should return to the Great Hall at once. If any of your friends have gone to their rooms already, please go and get them. If I or any of the other teachers find any of you outside the Great Hall once the school has assembled there, you will automatically get three weeks' detention from me. Is that understood?
The Slytherins blinked and nodded numbly. They weren't used to their Head of House being quite so cold to them--stern, yes, but not overly so. And even though he wasn't known to give such large detentions to his own house, something in his voice and expression told them that he wasn't bluffing.
Within a few minutes, Snape was leading his students back to the Great Hall, his mind whirling, trying to figure out how Black might have gotten in--but then there was only one way, wasn't there? Someone had let him in.
Snape knew of only one person that might have done that, one person who may still trust Black, or who could have been on Black's side all along. He'd been on Black's side in that nearly-fatal prank so many years ago...why would subsequent events have changed that?
Arriving at the Great Hall, Snape had to wait until the students had been settled in for the night before getting a chance to talk to Dumbledore, along with the other teachers and the school ghosts.
I want all of you to help with a thorough search of the school. If Black is still inside Hogwarts, we need to find him. I don't need to mention that you should all be on your guard during the inspection. I want everyone to search in pairs, one pair to each floor. Severus, Minerva, you are both in charge of the search. If any of you find anything out of the ordinary--anything at all--come and get Severus, Minerva or myself. If you do find Sirius Black, do not approach him. Come and get one of us, and we will fetch the others. Hagrid, please monitor the front doors and entrance hall; doubtless the Dementors will be itching to get in the castle as soon as I tell them what has happened. Under no circumstances are they to enter the castle. If anyone finds that they have entered by another door, fetch me immediately. I will be in my office for a few hours after I tell the Dementors what has happened; the Ministry needs to be informed of this. After that I will be in the Great Hall.
Snape and McGonagall organized everyone into search parties, instructing everyone to ask the portraits and other school ghosts whether they had seen anything, and to aid in the search. They also assigned a rota for teachers to check on the students once every hour.
Snape purposely pairedwith Lupin and they set off for the third floor, wands at the ready. Every classroom, office, and broom closet was searched, every painting questioned as to whether they had seen anything suspicious, and asked to join in. Snape didn't say a word to Lupin as they searched, but watched him carefully. He was becoming more and more certain that Lupin had helped Black inside the castle. There was no one else inside the castle that could be in league with Sirius Black. However if Lupin knew he was under Snape's scrutiny, he certainly didn't show it. Snape had to marvel at the man's perfect composure and natural air of innocence. If he hadn't been the only suspect, Snape might have actually believed that Lupin knew nothing about how Black had entered the castle.
By three in the morning, all the other teachers and staff had checked in with Snape and with McGonagall, who was searching the fourth floor. Everyone reported finding nothing but silence and stillness in the rest of the castle, and none had found any entrances tampered with. Black had to have help inside, Snape was sure of it, and Lupin was the only one he could imagine might have given that assistance.
Snape made his way to the Headmaster's office but found it empty, and so turned and crept down to the Great Hall, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. Dumbledore was standing at one side of the room, slightly away from the clusters of sleeping bags, talking to Head Boy Percy Weasley.
Snape whispered, approaching the pair, The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there, either.
What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?
All searched.
Very well, Severus, I didn't really expect Black to linger, the Headmaster sighed.
Snape cast a glance at Weasley; the boy hadn't moved during the discussion, and instead was watching both of them with interest. Snape was loath to bring up his doubts in front of a student, but couldn't very well order Weasley away without looking suspicious.
Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor? Snape said in a meaningful tone, trying to get his question across to Dumbledore without having to state it bluntly.
Many, Severus, each as unlikely as the next. Either Dumbledore hadn't caught Snape's hint, or he was purposefully ignoring the implications. Snape wasn't sure which one it was.
Frustration and anger were welling inside him as he made another attempt, speaking in a low voice so that Weasley couldn't hear what he was saying. You remember the conversation we had, just before, ah, the start of term?
I do, Severus. Dumbledore's voice had changed, there was a warning in his tone. Snape disregarded it and pressed on, determined to make his point yet again. Perhaps this time Dumbledore could not be blind to the answer that was staring him in the face.
It seems...almost impossible...that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed--
Dumbledore cut him off abruptly. I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it, he said sharply, indicating that he was not going to listen to Snape's argument again. Snape could feel his cheeks flushing with anger as he fought to hold his tongue.
I must go down to the Dementors, Dumbledore continued, I said I would inform them when our search was complete.
Didn't they want to help, sir? Weasley asked, looking up at Dumbledore with shocking naïveté, in Snape's opinion.
Dumbledore's response was low and clipped. Oh yes. But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster.
With that, Dumbledore strode silently out of the hall, while Snape watched him with badly hid resentment. He'd thought that Dumbledore trusted him, that he had earned that much in his years of service, his many sacrifices. But that trust still wasn't enough to overcome Dumbledore's innate prejudice in favour of Lupin. For the second time in his life, he doubted exactly how much Dumbledore had ever trusted him, how much faith the man really had in his reformed Death Eater, and whether the Headmaster would ever open his eyes and see his precious Gryffindors for what they were.
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Eve didn't sleep much that night, dropping off for intermittent, short periods, and spending easily as much time looking up at the night sky in the Great Hall ceiling as sleeping. Her insomnia was partly due to Black, but mostly because of the comings and goings of the teachers, as well as the discomfort of sleeping on a hard floor in her school clothes even with her warm, squashy sleeping bag.
There were many fatigued, worried faces at breakfast the next morning, though Eve was too sleepy to really be able to pay attention to the conversations at the Gryffindor table. When they went up to Gryffindor tower to get their school books, they found that the Fat Lady's portrait had been replaced by one of a knight, Sir Cadogan, who was clearly off his rocker. Percy Weasley was the first to reach the tower entrance and Sir Cadogan challenged him to a duel, calling him a knave and refusing to let him enter until Professor McGonagall walked by and barked at Cadogan to tell them the password and let them in.
They soon found that Sir Cadogan was more likely to change his passwords, making them the most obscure words and phrases he could think of; at least, obscure to those not familiar with Old English. The only thing one could do was ask for the password when they left the tower, or stand outside the portrait until someone came along that did know it.
The week seemed to head directly downhill from Halloween. Despite the growing excitement over the coming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin (which, from the reports of the upper-level students, sounded like a grudge match at the very least), the worsening weather outside and the constant annoyances inside the castle were making this a veritable week from hell for her, coming to a head on Wednesday morning.
Wednesday started out very badly. She woke with a stuffed nose and dry throat, the beginnings of a head cold lurking, after oversleeping her alarm. Eve had to shower and dress in a rush, running down to breakfast and completely forgetting to ask Sir Cadogan what the morning's password was until she was headed back up to the tower, alone and running to get to class on time. On the way there she was attacked by Peeves, who startled her so with a water balloon that she accidentally stepped on one of the trick steps and sank into it to above her knees. After some minutes of manoeuvring and cursing under her breath, she finally managed to extract herself from the step and made her way to Gryffindor tower where Sir Cadogan flatly refused to let her in.
Eve looked at her watch--Potions would be starting in a minute or so and it would take her at least another five minutes to get her cauldron and rucksack and head down to the dungeon.
Look, I've got the Gryffindor crest on my robes and I've got the scarlet-and-gold stripes on my jumper and tie. I'm a bloody Gryffindor, now let me in! she barked.
Knave! Thou couldst have stolen those garments. You shall not gain entry to the tower, not if I have to fight you to drive you back! Sir Cadogan said, brandishing his sword until its weight made him tip over onto his back with a clank of his armour.
But you saw me come out just ten minutes ago!
Eve was cut off as the portrait opened and two of the second-years exited the tower. She held the portrait open as they hurried out.
Forgot the password? It's maiden fair' this morning! one of them said quickly, and Eve called a thanks over her shoulder as she hurried through the hole, Sir Cadogan calling for her to stand and fight as the portrait swung shut.
She ran as fast as she could down to Potions, scurrying through the door and to her usual seat in the back, knowing that it was unlikely Snape wouldn't notice her lateness but hoping all the same.
Ten points from Gryffindor for your lateness, Miss Berger, Snape said coldly as she reached her seat.
Eve made an attempt to explain but Snape cut her off.
Continue in your attempt to make excuses and it will be twenty and a detention. Now sit down--you have disrupted this class enough.
Eve clamped her jaws shut, face burning in anger, and had to keep from slamming her cauldron on the table with all the force she could muster.
She copied down the instructions for the cleaning potion they'd been assigned in quiet fury, trying to keep her mind on what she was writing and not on her stuffy head or the mental image of her wringing Snape's scrawny neck.
The class began preparing the potion, a low hum of whispers rising as Snape patrolled the room, hurling caustic comments at students as he strode past the desks and barking for silence every couple minutes.
The final step in preparing the potion involved adding a small amount of dragon's blood, a few drops at a time with a pipette. Eve bit her lip and furrowed her brows in concentration as she prepared to add it to her (so far) recipe-accurate potion. The valve of the pipette required the smallest of turns to add the liquid drop-by-drop; too much of a turn and the valve would open, the liquid falling in a stream. Eve had used a pipette before, knew they needed a light touch, and was just about to open the valve when a voice from behind startled her.
Having difficulties, Berger? Snape said.
She hadn't even heard his approach, and in her surprise her hand shook, the valve opening to full cock before she could close it again. In an instant her potion turned from the proper, vibrant orange to a lurid purple.
Snape made a sarcastic little noise which got right under her skin, irritating her to no end. Her hands were balled up into fists, trying to hold her anger in, fingers clenched so tight that she thought she'd break the glass phial she held in her hand.
For all your education, can't you even make a simple potion, Berger? Snape said smoothly, obviously enjoying her mistake.
It was one of the few times in her life where words came to her lips before she could think about what they were. She hadn't looked up at Snape since he'd appeared behind her, and she didn't look up now, but her voice was low and her words clipped with anger.
Do you know why Britain no longer owns North America? For all your education, don't you even know your own country's history?
She looked up at him then, felt her cheeks burning, heard the blood pounding in her ears as adrenaline surged through her. She wasn't entirely sure what she had done; she'd broken through some sort of barrier--she never, never lost her temper at someone, and certainly not a teacher--and suddenly decided that she no longer cared what Snape thought or did. That she didn't care what happened to her. Partly it was because she'd already put her foot in it--there was no way to take her words back now--and partly because she was just so fed up with the man that any respect for him which had cowed her before had vanished.
Snape's face went white except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. His black eyes glittered furiously. Roughly seizing her arm, he hauled her out from behind her desk and shoved her forward.
Berger--my office--NOW!
She marched toward his office, hardly hearing him extinguish the fire under her cauldron or bark orders at the rest of the class. Her head felt oddly light, as though she was floating, buoyed by rage. She could hardly feel the pain of her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands and, surprisingly enough, she could feel her fear of Snape diminishing. She'd actually stood up to him once, and in that instant she had made her decision on the issue that had been bothering her for weeks...why not say everything she wanted to?
She stared coldly at the door as he stormed in, slamming the door behind him and rounding on her with an absolutely livid expression, no doubt meant to have her knees knocking in fear.
What on earth do you mean by speaking in that tone to me? Snape growled, spit flying from his mouth.
What on earth do you mean by treating me like rubbish simply because I've spent the last eighteen years of my life preparing for a life in the real world? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not all that much younger than you are, Snape. Maybe I don't know anything about potions, but do you know why this school is for Great Britain and not just England? Do you know how, fifty years ago, those stupid Muggles' managed to keep a madman from taking over Europe? I do. I probably have at least two-thirds the education you do, Snape, only in a completely different field!
You're dangerously close to getting yourself expelled, Berger!
She surprised both of them and laughed; a harsh, bitter laugh that seemed to erupt from some deep, unconscious area inside her. What, you think that matters to me now? Either I'm expelled or I leave on my own, because I do not have to put up with this sort of abuse! I can walk right out that door, back into the real world and get a job and an apartment, and live a perfectly normal life. I'm fully ready and well-prepared to do it. Are you?
With that, she spun on her heel and throwing the classroom door open, stalked to her desk, grabbed her books and hurried out, deaf to Snape's bellows behind her. She had never done anything like that before, usually trying to suppress her anger until she was alone. That fact surprised her, really, because at the moment, it felt absolutely wonderful to let go. Some detached part of her mind thought that she'd regret it later, that she would no doubt be kicking herself for what she'd said, but at the moment her concerns seemed to have whisked away.
Hurrying past puzzled-looking students, she made her way to Gryffindor Tower and her bedroom. Erik rubbed against her legs as she dumped her books on her bed and pulled out her drawers, beginning to pack all her belongings in her trunk for the trip home.