Title: L' Estate di Suicidio
Author: Clynn
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and I'm not making any money off of them.
Author's Notes: Finally, I'm back. Apologies to the people I told two weeks ago that the chapter would be up in a few days, I've had some unexpected issues to deal with, on top of studying for four AP exams that I'll be taking over the next two weeks. But enough about that nonsense, the new chapter is here, for your reading pleasure (or at least I hope it brings you pleasure...) This chapter takes kind of a new direction and it isn't a style I'm used to writing, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you again to my amazing reviewers and to the people who IM'd/emailed/nagged me in school (looking your way, Sonia...) to get me writing. Also, check out some of my original work at my new website (still under construction), link is in my profile.
Sorry for the confusion last night, not sure what went wrong. Thanks to everyone who emailed/reviewed to tell me that I needed to fix it.
Chapter 24
I trudge slowly down to Snape's office, my muscles still a bit sore. Madam Pomfrey almost refused to let me leave, but Professor Dumbledore stepped in and reminded her that I needed to attend classes. I appreciate Madam Pomfrey's concern, I really do, but I've already missed two days of work and the stack of assignments Hermione left in the hospital wing is almost as tall as I am. It does not escape my notice that the vast majority of the work comes from the very man I am going to visit, but I suppose that shouldn't be such a surprise.
I knock lightly on the door to Snape's office, waiting patiently to be let in. I can hear the professor moving around in the small room, glass bottles clanging loudly against shelves, papers rustling endlessly. Finally the door swings open, and a clearly distraught professor stands before me.
"Harry! Poppy finally let you out. Come in." Snape's words spill out of his mouth with none of the ordered restraint I have come to expect. He steps aside to let me enter and very nearly trips over a stack of papers a foot high just behind the door. The man quickly regains his balance, but he can do nothing to clear his harried expression or calm his shaking hands.
"Er... I can come back later, if you like, Professor," I murmur nervously, unsure how to act around yet another previously undiscovered aspect of the potion master's personality. Snape shakes his head vigorously, his eyes darting around the room, searching for some unidentifiable object. Finally, his eyes meet mine and he takes a deep breath, visually calming himself.
"No, I need to talk to you. Why don't we go back to my sitting room and have a bit of tea? It will be easier to talk in there, I think, and most of your friends are still in class, so you won't be missed." I nod in agreement, my apprehension growing. I'd like to believe that if something had happened, Dumbledore would have come to tell me, but it is difficult to convince myself of that when the headmaster very obviously keeps everything he believes it unnecessary for me to know secret from me. It is frustrating to no end, but I don't know that I have any right to judge Dumbledore for his actions. After all, I told Neville myself that I could not reveal anything to him when I wasn't the only person involved, it is entirely possible that the headmaster has similar reasons for keeping things from me.
Snape and I approach the entrance to his chambers quickly, and I smile at the cheerful little man dancing inside of the gaudy gold frame. Snape growls his password with as much disdain as usual and I am pleased to find that he isn't acting as differently as I supposed. I follow the professor inside and flop down in my chair. Snape seems more and more like himself as he sinks into the familiar rooms. The tea cups clink together a few times as he gets them down from the cabinet, but the shaking appears to be subsiding. Lines disappear from the professor's face and he hands me a steaming cup before sitting across from me, sipping deeply.
"I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Harry, I know I'm not acting quite like myself. Immediately after I returned to my rooms after your vision, I was called. I apparated to Voldemort's side and discovered quickly that it was no ordinary death eater meeting. I should have assumed it would not be; it had been several months since the last general meeting and there was no reason to have one three nights ago. At least not to my knowledge. Most unfortunately, my knowledge is limited, and Voldemort managed to accomplish quite a lot in the last few months without me being alerted. The girl you saw in your vision, the little muggle, she was no ordinary child. The girl was the first to be identified by a new system Voldemort has developed that singles out potential wizards born to muggles and allows him to find and eliminate them. The potential for this new system is unlimited; Voldemort is now able to identify muggle-born witches and wizards across the world and has every intention of eradicating the entire group. It will be impossible to protect everyone, especially without the Ministry's cooperation. I'm not telling you this to frighten you, I'm telling you because you have a right to know, and Dumbledore will not tell you himself. He believes that informing any of the students- even the muggle-borns, who are in an extraordinary amount of danger- will create unnecessary panic. In telling you what I did, I put my life in your hands. Voldemort will know if this information is leaked out at Hogwarts that I am a spy, and he will have me killed. Albus, Minerva and I, among others, are working nonstop to eliminate this threat, but it won't be done quickly. I have to ask you to trust us, and to work with us if we need you. Don't keep anything from us, it is imperative that we have all the help we can get."
I sit back, setting my cup of tea on the table beside me. I am shaken and scared, I don't know how to react. Hermione is a muggle-born witch. She has put up with the prejudice of people like Draco Malfoy since she entered the wizarding world, and now there is a way for Voldemort to find her and kill her, and I am being asked to keep that from her. How can I do that? How can I not alert her to the threat, make her more aware of her surroundings, keep her vigilant? How can they ask me to help them and not let me help my friends? It is too much. I can't do this, I can't pretend that nothing is wrong and know that at any minute another muggle-born could be dying. And the little girl, the one I saw being tortured to death, she hadn't even had a chance to discover the possibilities of magic, she wasn't even in school yet.
"What do you mean I can't tell anyone? Professor, my classmates are in danger, they need to know to be careful. How can they protect themselves if they don't know that they need protection?" My voice is soft and I am struggling to contain my anger and fear.
"How can they protect themselves if they do? Harry, your friends are teenagers, they cannot protect themselves against the death eaters, the best they can do is run. And what if they knew? What if they knew that at any minute, they might be attacked? They would look for danger around every corner, they would run screaming every time they heard a strange noise or saw something out of the ordinary. At Hogwarts, that means they would be under constant stress. Look, Harry, I'm not happy with this. I agree with you that there are people who should be told, people like Hermione who I know I can trust to react rationally. I had the same conversation with Albus that you are having with me, and we could not find any way to ensure the safety of the people we trust with this information. Hermione is safe here, but what if Voldemort finds her at home over Christmas? What if he gives her veritaserum and she tells him that she knows about his plans, that I'm a spy, that the ministry isn't behind us, that he can do whatever he wants with no official resistance? Can you imagine the scope of the devastation he would cause? There would be nothing to stop him, nothing to hold him back."
"What if we told Hermione and she agreed to stay here over Christmas, where she is safe? She wouldn't go home if she thought that she might be in danger."
"What would she do when she saw the other muggle-borns packing up to leave? I burdened you with this knowledge because I had to, if you tell Hermione she will be faced with the choice between telling her friends what she knows and possibly saving their lives, or keeping the secret, allowing me to continue to gather information that may be used to eliminate Voldemort for good, but risk allowing her friends to die. Harry, that is the decision I faced, the decision Albus faced, and now the decision you face. I can't help you make this decision, I can only tell you what I believe to be true. I believe this war will not be easy. I believe many will die. I also believe that, given time, we can defeat this threat. I believe that you are essential to this fight, although I won't claim to know why. I believe that your decision, right now, will determine the course this war will take, and I believe that you will make what you believe to be the right decision, whatever that may be. I'm not putting my faith in the Boy Who Lived, Harry, I'm putting it in you. I know that you hate having this kind of responsibility, and I know that I promised to take care of you. I'm trying, Harry, I'm doing the best I can to let you be normal, but you aren't and there are some responsibilities I can't shield you from. This is one of them."
"I see, I think. This is one of those sacrifice a few to save the world things. Except it isn't certain, is it? You don't know that you can get rid of Voldemort, you don't know that you wouldn't have a better chance of winning if everyone knew exactly what was going on. Its all guesswork. I trust you, Professor, I trust your judgment. But I don't understand how you can make a decision like this. How can you trust yourself?"
Snape meets my eyes without hesitation. "I don't. I can't. I will never know if the choice I made was the right one, I will never know if making another decision could have saved lives. But I had to make a choice, and so do you. Harry, this is the best I can do for you. I lie to you and tell you that this is cut-and-dry, only one right answer. I don't even know if there is a right or wrong anymore, I just know that we have to do something, and what we do depends on the choice you make. You don't have to decide right now, we have some time. Voldemort can't act openly until he believes that he is strong enough to survive any resistance. Your friends will be safe for awhile longer. The fate of the world doesn't rest in your hands, nothing as melodramatic as all that. You have a big part to play in this war, but you aren't the only person fighting. I care about you, Harry, and I want you to know that you will always be cared for, no matter what you decide. But you must decide eventually."
I look critically at Professor Snape. It seems as though the man has a limitless capacity for change, an endless supply of personas. One minute he is my arrogant and intimidating potions master, the next, a tender and kind friend, then the cool, unyielding leader I see before me now. Somewhere underneath the man I am talking to, I know that the worried, fretful man I caught a glimpse of in the office is still quivering apprehensively. I wonder how much work it takes to appear this calm all of the time. I wonder how long it will be before Snape is able to talk to me about how he really feels, not as the man who is directing me to my place in a war, but as the man who befriended me, who saved me, who is still saving me. I wonder if I want to talk to that Snape about this issue, if I want to associate this stress and pressure with that man. But it doesn't matter what I want, that Snape needs to talk to me, just as much as I need to have this discussion with a friend. I know what I have to do, but I need to hear that it is right not from a strategic point of view but from a human one. I need to know that Snape will stand by me, not Captain Snape, not Slimy Snape, but Professor Snape, the guy who comforts me after nightmares.
"Professor," I whisper nervously, "I think I've already decided."
