In youth we learn; in age we understand. ~ Maria Ebner-Eschenbach
Chapter 1
Harry Potter rubbed his scar as he scowled over his essay.
'Is it hurting Harry?'
Harry looked up at Hermione Granger in surprise and realised what she was referring to.
'Oh. . . no, no it isn't. It's. . . I just. . . Habit,' he finished lamely.
'Oh.'
'Yeah, nothing to worry about. You should show more concern about my homework.' Harry grinned.
He managed to distract Hermione. 'You didn't finish it?'
'Only Divination left.'
Hermione scoffed, 'Why should I show concern over that?'
'It's going to be part of my N.E.W.T.S Hermione!'
'Yes, and it will be your own fault if you fail it.'
As the two continued bickering, Ronald Weaseley joined them in their compartment as the train hurtled along the track towards Hogwarts.
'Hey.' He gave Hermione a peck on her cheek before settling down. 'What are you two up to?'
As Hermione complained to her boyfriend, Harry went back to his essay, still grinning. They didn't change, not really. True, Ron and Hermione were now a couple, as he had always thought they would be. It was strange how two such unlike people managed to attract each other. Couple or not, Ron and Hermione were still Ron and Hermione, the two best friends he had first made since the first year in Hogwarts.
Hogwarts. . . who would have thought time could fly so mercilessly by, even by wizarding standards. Five years had passed since he had first stepped into the castle that was his school and home. Now, they were all entering his sixth year. What new surprises lie in stall?
Or maybe, Harry's thoughts grew darker, it should be what new horrors await?
Since the resurrection of one Lord Voldemort, nothing remained the same. Lessons in school would continue, business would proceed in Gringotts' Bank, witches and wizards alike would hurdle together at the Three Broomsticks. . . but always the menace of Voldemort hung in everyone's mind and lingered in every corner.
'Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know. . .'
This was what Sirius Black, his godfather, meant. Terror, confusion. . . Voldemort did not even need to do anything disastrous. A fire at a hospital here, a contact to a Dementor there, a flick of the wand of Morsmordre to reveal his presence, or omnipresence, was enough to cast a gloom over the strong and hysteria over the weak.
Harry caught himself rubbing at his scar again. Stealing a glance at the still bickering pair assured him that they had not noticed.
His scar had bothered him sporadically throughout the holidays. It did not cause him pain as before. Rather, it seemed to be tugging at his will, calling to him. None of which made any sense. He wandered if he should talk to Dumbledore. It seemed to be another habit now, seeking the Headmaster's advice. He winced slightly. As enjoying or enlightening as their conversations always were, he felt uncomfortable at the fact that the time he spent with Dumbledore was much greater than that of any other student.
'All this special treatment is getting into your head Potter. Do you think you are no longer a student but an Auror? One who can call on the Headmaster anytime you want?'
Snape's voice cut through his thought. Harry involuntarily snorted. This time, he got his friends' attention.
'What?' Ron asked.
Harry related the 'appearance' of Snape to them. They did not know whether to laugh or sigh.
In the past year, Snape was the only one to change in front of their eyes. Reluctant as they were to admit at first, Snape had grown in their esteem, much to both sides' chagrin. After all, Snape still disliked them immensely while they still believed he was an arrogant git, to put it mildly. And yet, if the past year had shown them anything, it was the truth as to where their Potions Master's loyalties lay.
Ironically, it was Ron who was the first to accept such a drastically devastating fact.
***
'Dad told me he knew Snape,' he said blankly to the other two after they met each other again at the beginning of their fifth year. 'Said he's the best they've got to beat You-Know-Who.'
'Voldemort,' corrected Harry.
'If you insist! Who cares how we call him?'
'How can they be so sure?' It was a question that repeatedly burnt in Harry's head.
'Dad said he'd rather trust Dumbledore than Fudge.'
'He's right.' Hermione stayed silent, before picking the courage to ask, 'Harry, do you hate him? Snape, I mean.'
Did he hate him? How could he not? Snape was the only teacher who ever showed him contempt and used every stray opportunity to punish him and the other Gryffindors.
'Are you telling me you don't?'
Ron scoffed, 'Harry, Hermione doesn't hate any teacher.'
'Sometimes, it almost seems you're actually understanding. . . and to answer you Harry. . . Ron's right. I don't hate Snape. Least ways, not now.'
'Why?'
'You saw the times he had saved you Harry.'
'He tried to get Padfoot and Professor Lupin killed.'
'Yes, yes that was pettiness on his part. I think, that if he had known the whole truth, he wouldn't have done it.'
Harry turned to Ron, 'Can you believe her?'
To his surprise, Ron blushed, 'Yeah. Dad told me some things. . . But I can't tell you!' He quickly added when he saw the curiosity permeating through the two's countenance. 'You have to wait until others are willing to tell.'
And so Harry and Hermione waited. They, as the all-too-common saying went, received more than they had bargained.
Throughout their fifth year, Snape deteriorated in front of their eyes. Even the dense Twiddledee and Twindledum, or Crabbe and Goyle, sensed the change. Or maybe, as Hermione pointed, they heard from their fathers what had happened.
At the beginning, the change was imperceptible. Snape continued to be the Snapish character he was, rude, mean, offensive. If possible, his tongue became more poisonous than before.
'Longbottom, for pity's sake, get back to Year One!' Snape once yelled when Neville had done a relatively harmless mistake of using Hermione's cauldron instead of his own.
It became clear as time went by that Snape's nerves were increasingly frayed. He was not only irritable, he was downright unreasonable. If it were not for the trio's determination to find out more about Snape, they would not have been able to observe the other more disturbing signs.
During Potions lessons, Snape had gradually stopped roaming round the class. His wit and mental capabilities still remained, as he snapped at everyone who made the slightest mistake, including those who sat at the back of the room. He still walked the corridors with his strong strides, and completed his nightly duties of patrolling with the usual tenacity. However, he was no longer seen at mealtimes and the trio could tell he was not using his strength more than necessary.
It was at the end of August that led them to discover the extent of Snape's extra activities.
That night, as Hermione was secretly returning to her dormitory from the library, she passed the hospital wing and saw the light inside flickering erratically. Worried, she took a peek, nearly gasped out loud, and ran to the Common Room to call for Harry and Ron. Together, under the new, much larger Invisibility Cloak Harry had bought, they hurried down to the hospital wing.
They crept into a corner. Before them, lay a scene, which they would tell their children for the rest of their lives.
It was surreal, almost comforting and peaceful in its way. The room was surrounded with dozens of candles with flames glowing with a warm orange. At the centre was a simple white bed, with Snape hovering above it, relaxed. The candles slowly encroach on him. The trio watched in awe as the candles swirled around him. Faster and faster they spun, until. . .
Hermione screamed but no one seemed to hear her. The room had plunged into darkness, before lighting up again with a green light, the same shade of green that flared when someone had cast Avada Kedavra. There was no rest in the room now, only undiluted fear. Screams echoed from all sides, attacking them with such ferocity they lifted their hands to try to block them vainly. Helpless, they had to watch Snape convulse in front of them. Then, they actually saw the air rush into him and felt as though they were carried along. As soon as the air entered, it came out again, this time bringing images of memories that could only belong to Snape's.
He had been to a Death-Eaters' gathering. Flashes of dead bodies, ripped from their graves, were tossed around as though the Death-Eaters were looking for specific targets. Some were too decayed, with worms frantically crawling out; others too old when the person had died. Finally, after selecting ten, the group left for their leader.
To see Voldemort, albeit in an image, after months racked Harry's spirit. He had thought he was finally able to overcome his horror of him. Ron and Hermione, who had never seen Voldemort before, suddenly looked nauseous. Harry could not bother just then to see if they would puke.
Voldemort was apparently stronger than he was at their last encounter. Standing tall and majestic, his eyes burnt with an even brighter blood red. One by one, each Death-Eater knelt in servitude as they gave their own report. When it was Snape's turn, apprehension gripped the three students. The last image they saw was that of him crumbling to the ground and the cruel laughter that was all too familiar for Harry.
The room returned to the initial state that they had seen. They found out later that the whole incident only took five seconds. Five seconds it had taken to drain them of their willpower and change their perspective of reality.
All was silent, eerily so after the traumatising affair. Hence, the students could not be blamed for jumping when a soft voice addressed them. 'Children?'
They turned to find Dumbledore, McGonagall, Pomprey and Sirius Black facing them. Their cloak had been flung onto the floor. It was Dumbledore who had spoken up.
'Go to my office,' he instructed gently, 'The password's Chocolate Fog. I will join you in a minute.'
Stunned, they automatically did what they were told. When they reached the door, Harry looked back to see Snape now lying on the bed, so still he wondered if he were dead.
No one said a word until they reached the gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office.
'Chocolate Frog,' said Harry mechanically. But the gargoyle did not budge.
'He said chocolate fog Harry.' At this, the gargoyle leapt to one side.
They headed for the office.
'Chocolate fog?' Harry mused, as they entered the room.
'Harry, I don't want to dispute about chocolates right now.' Hermione did look tired. Ron quickly carried a chair to her.
It was not long before Dumbledore and Sirius arrived.
'Harry.' Sirius came forward to hug the boy.
'Sirius? I thought I was dreaming when I first saw you. What are you doing here? Isn't it too risky?'
'Don't worry about my safety. The headmaster has attended to that. As to what I'm doing here. . .' Sirius rubbed his brow, 'I'm here to gather inside information, to tell the others. Been doing so since your fifth year.'
'Others? But, who are they? And why didn't you tell me in your letters?'
'I think, we should all settle down. You forgot your cloak Harry. Here.' Dumbledore took his seat at his table. Holding out a box, he asked, 'Chocolate fog?'
When all shook their heads, he opened it cautiously. True to its name, a brown mist seeped out as Dumbledore twirled it round his finger before consuming it. Putting the box back into the drawer, he faced them and smiled kindly. 'You are no doubt eager to know what has happened in the past months.'
'First, I will not tell you who our helpers are. It is already dangerous enough to know that Sirius is actually visiting Hogwarts regularly. It's why I told him not to inform you Harry.'
'Yes sir.'
'You know that Voldemort has become more powerful. Even the Ministry and the Daily Prophet cannot hide that. What is not known is what his actual plans are in his bid to conquer the wizarding world. I shall not attempt to tell you since we do not have all the facts yet. Are you also aware that Professor Snape has returned to his spying duties?'
'Yes sir, we sort of guessed it.' Hermione whispered.
'You have seen tonight what he has been through. After every meeting with the Death-Eaters and Voldemort, he would return to me. The ritual, developed by Professor Flitwick, is a combination of the most ancient and rudimentary magical powers. There is an additional advantage of using it over a Pensieve. Not only does it show a person's memories, it helps alleviate a person's physical stress.'
'Stress?' Ron blurted out, although he already knew the answer.
'Cruciatus.' Dumbledore's voice was hollow. 'Voldemort's fanciful whims are endless and unexpected.'
Harry had sufferred Cruciatus before. Once. And he prayed he would not have to endure it anymore. Snape was submitted to it for Merlin-knows how many times, and he kept going back. . .
'Is that why he's been so weak?'
Dumbledore's eye twinkled a little before sadness claimed him again, 'Severus would deduct fifty points from you if he had heard you Miss Granger. But yes, you are right.'
'Would he, would he go mad?'
'Professor Snape's a powerful wizard, more so than anyone can describe.'
'Like yourself?'
'I,' said Dumbledore ambiguously, 'am born by accident.'
'Sir,' Ron's excitement made him tremble, 'Shouldn't the staff make precautions to prevent anyone from barging into the hospital wing while the. . . the ritual is carried out? I mean, what if a Slytherin found out Snape, beg your pardon, Professor Snape, is working for you?'
Dumbledore's expression became stern. 'Understand this Mr. Weaseley. Not all Slytherins are evil. Just as not all Gryffindors are noble. Severus was a Slytherin and Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor. Your father, I believe, has told you of past Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who were caught as Death- Eaters.'
Ron was suitably upset, 'Yes sir. Sorry.'
'As for your concerns, do not worry. The staff always puts up the strongest wards around the hospital wing before the ritual.'
'Then, how did we. . . You wanted us to see!' Hermione was thunderstruck.
'Precisely, Miss Granger. Very astute. Since the beginning of this year, I noticed the keen interest possessed by the three of you in Professor Snape. After careful consideration and discussion with Professor McGonagall, I decided that you were all capable of discretion, seeing that you did not tell anyone of your suspicions. I went on to put an end to your doubts once and for all, to show you who Professor Snape is. An agent, not of the supposed light and dark, but of his own convictions.'
'His own convictions?'
'I think, I don't have to tell you what his convictions are. You have seen more than enough tonight to be at ease with Professor Snape. However, if you wish to understand, I will arrange a meeting for you with him.'
At any other time, the three Gryffindors would have been horrified at having to spend time with Snape. Now, a burning desire to know more mingled in as well.
'Does Professor Snape know? About you letting us in tonight.'
'No, he doesn't. I shall tell him. He will be too pleased to hear of your concern for him. Kindly do not snort Sirius. It's rude, not to mention unbecoming.'
Sirius jerked his head up, 'It's late Professor.'
'Indeed. You may leave now. Harry may see you off if he wants. Miss Granger and Mr. Weaseley, however, must return to their dormitories.'
'Seeya Harry.' The two sped off.
When Harry and Sirius walked across the field to the gate, Harry spoke up.
'You were quiet back there Sirius.'
'You didn't talk much yourself.'
'I'm trying to get everything in.'
'I suppose it is a little overwhelming.'
'Sirius,' said Harry urgently, 'Do you believe Snape?'
Sirius paused in his tracks before continuing.
'If I had more time, I would have a deeper conversation with you Harry. As it is. . . I trust him with your life. . . and all the other students', including Muggleborns'.'
'Sirius, does all this mean that you are not enemies with him anymore?'
'In a way, it's tiring to hold on to hatred, but it doesn't go away so easily either. Let's just say Snape and I have formed a stronger, better truce than the one we did during the Triwizard Tournament.' Sirius chuckled softly, 'He still hates my guts, and I his. But yes, we've come to an understanding.'
'Does it mean I shouldn't hate him?'
'That is for you to decide. I'll say this Harry, and listen well. You don't know what hate is. Hate is blind. It consumes you. There is no reason in hate. At the end, it destroys you, as it nearly did for me. If you are asking whether you should hate him, it's safe to say you don't actually hate him, and that is good.' Sirius stopped at the gate. 'Take care. Go straight back. Don't loiter around.'
'Yeah, you keep safe too.' Harry watched passively as Sirius turned into his dog form.
It was only on the last day of the school year when Snape finally consented to have a talk with the three of them. Needless to say that when he had known what Dumbledore had done, Snape had exploded and proceeded to treat the trio as though they were Gildroy Lockhart, only without any pretense of restraint.
Hence on that fateful day when everyone was packing up to head home, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked with heightened wariness towards the Potions Master's office.
'Sit,' Snape waved three chairs at them. 'Now,' his mouth twisted into a smirk, 'How may I serve you?'
'Er. . .' the three were dumbstruck.
It was Ron who risked his neck. 'Didn't Professor Dumbledore. . .'
'Yes, of course. What I want to know is how I can trust you with what Professor Dumbledore wishes me to tell.' Snape's tone was deadly, 'For one slip, no matter how small, can cost not only my life or sanity, but everyone else's.'
Without hesitation, the three pledged by the honour of Hogwarts and Godric Gryffindor that they would be steadfast in their discretion or be sent to Azkaban.
'Or be eaten by spiders,' Ron added.
Snape scowled over them for several unnerving moments. Then, he swept abruptly round to his table. Taking a bottle of yellow liquid, he barked his question, 'Do you know what Meritaserum is?'
'Yes sir. It's another form of truth potion, but it keeps a person lucid unlike Veritaserum.'
'How like you to read from the restricted section Miss Granger,' Snape poured the liquid into his goblet, 'Much as I loathe using it, I hope that this little chat will be our first and last. Hence, this truth potion will curb your tedious suspicions over whether I am telling the truth, so that we may be done with it, and move on happily.'
'Sir, excuse me,' Harry said softly, 'If you think we doubt you so much, why do you think we'll believe that is the real potion?'
'A horrifying sharp question Potter. I didn't expect you to have such mental abilities.' Snape took another cup, poured a significantly smaller amount of liquid into it and gave it to Harry. 'This smaller dose will only last five minutes.'
Harry tensed. He stole a glance at Ron and Hermione. They did not seem overly anxious. Moving quickly before he could regret it, he drank from the cup. A tingle of warmth spread over him.
'Now, Potter, do you like Miss Cho Chang?'
'Yes sir.'
Snape's eyes glittered maliciously, 'How romantic.' He walked back to his seat.
Hermione did not help relieve the embarrassing moment. She was giggling. Harry tried to dispel his discomfort.
'Of all the questions, couldn't you ask something more relevant, or important?'
'My dear Potter, I know more of your doings than you imagine. Besides, that was more amusing, as your esteemed partners in mischief obviously agree.'
Snape nonchalantly downed the contents of his goblet. 'You may begin your interrogation.'
This was it, the three realised. This was the moment they had wondered about, talked about. The man behind Severus Snape. Yet they were clueless as to where to start.
'Er. . . how old are you?'
Snape moaned dramatically, 'Of all the. . . Thirty-nine.'
'How old were you when you began teaching?'
'Twenty-four.'
'How old were you when you became a Death-Eater?'
'Ah. . . we are heading somewhere. Sixteen.'
Shocked silence followed.
'You became a Death-Eater in school?'
'In a way. I received the Dark Mark when I graduated.'
'How old were you when you turned to Dumbledore?'
'Twenty.'
Harry frowned, 'Why did you choose Voldemort?'
'I did not choose the Dark Lord. There was no choice.'
'Professor Dumbledore says there is always a choice in life.'
'Yes, he does, doesn't he?'
'You haven't answered my question.'
'I forgot to mention,' Snape drawled, 'that Meritaserum may force a person to tell the truth, but it doesn't prevent him from not speaking if he wants to.'
'Then I did not have to tell whether I liked. . . Bugger,' Harry grimaced, 'Alright, why did you choose Professor Dumbledore in the end?'
'Somewhere down the years while I was a Death-Eater, the heavens dropped a conscience onto me.'
'You were never remorseful of what you did before?'
'Never, at least, I believe so.'
'What did you do?'
'Torture, blood baths, experimentation on Muggles and Muggleborns, rape. . . Shall I continue?' Snape said it so calmly he might had been reading from a Potions list.
'Why tell us so much?' Hermione's tone shook.
'To let you have no illusions as to what we, the Death-Eaters, are. We are devoid of any morals. You do not speak about them to us, only the politics of advantages in any dealing.'
'You keep saying we and us.'
'I am a part of them.'
'When did you turn then?' Ron asked before the silence dragged any further.
'Some months before I approached Professor Dumbledore.'
'What happened?'
'Twelve of us were sent to a Muggle home in the countryside. I was there to steal some documents the Dark Lord wanted. As usual, any resistance met was overcome either by killing or stunning. It was then that I experienced my first kill, on an old man. I was. . . affected. I realised that being a Death-Eater only meant owning power over the weak. Such power's repulsive and weak in itself. I saw the company I was in. They enjoyed their activities in a way I did not. I saw Voldemort as he was. A much-too crazed and powerful wizard dangerously bent on seizing supreme control over the world.'
'Then what you did. . .'
'The activities I was involved in were an end to the means. There was no remorse.'
'Why did you join Voldemort?'
'Why ask it again? I'm not anxious to tell you.'
The four of them sank into an unexpected sort of comforting quietude, musing on their own.
'Sir?'
'What now Weaseley?'
'Do you believe in what you are doing now? Do you believe you are on the right side now? The just side?'
Snape scrutinised Ron with renewed interest. There seemed to be grudging respect as he said. 'Yes, I believe it.'
Ron smiled cautiously, 'That's all I need to know.'
'Does it mean the three of you are eager to leave?'
'Not yet.' Harry struggled to put his thoughts into words. 'A few more questions. . . You want to make amends for what you've done. You. . . have done so. You risked everything to be a spy.'
'I risked only my life.'
'And you are risking it again. Why aren't you at least satisfied with what you're doing? Why take your frustrations out of the students? Why are you such a morose bastard?'
'Harry!'
The atmosphere immediately became tense. Snape remained still long enough to make Harry think he was going to be expelled, with or without the school's permission.
'Have you ever betrayed your friends before Potter? No, of course not. The heroic Potter always sticks with his friends, always saves them. You don't understand the wretchedness of a soul who finds that his beliefs throughout his youth, the only things he clings to, fail him. He is wrong. Wrong, do you know how hard the word is? What it carries? He loses his sense, his self, and there is no one to show the way out. His friends, his very friends, he cannot turn to. They will not understand. They will think him mad. Perhaps he, perhaps I am. Be it so, he, I, am thrown into the icy winds. Then, someone, Dumbledore, shows me what to do. He tells me there is a choice. I take it. I help destroy Voldemort. I send my friends to Azkaban,' Snape's voice seemed more and more distant. 'My friends. . . Yes, even I have, or had, friends. I was young once. I was simply a student in Slytherin once. I made friends once. Not people who use you and leave you alone. But friends who may be superior to you in status but stick by you, who explain to you how society works, how you can survive in hypocrisy. Friends who save you from humiliation you are subjected to by fools who kick you just because you are different. Oh yes, I had friends once. Now they are gone. Some are sent to Azkaban, by my own hand. Those who escape, I avoid. It is so difficult to be near those you trust once but know you are separated, forever. By your own hand.'
'Slytherin friends. . .' he went on bitterly, 'Slytherin. . . That name alone is glory and power. To be linked to it is to be proud of it. At least it was so. Then the Dark Lord and all that he brought defiled it. He who could have been famous for his greatness, he whose intellect surpasses even his ancestor's. . . One flaw, and all potential crumbles. The hunger for revenge. Impatience rules, knowledge of superiority twists to sense of supremacy, eccentricity flowers into madness.'
Snape stopped abruptly. The effort had cost him to be out of breath.
Quietness surrounded, but for the three students, this onslaught of confession and insight into the most obscure of wizards caused their hearts to beat in panic. Snape was painfully emotionlessly when he spoke, yet his somewhat incoherent answer was the most harrowing speech they had ever heard. They did not know what else they could say.
Snape roused himself, 'Go. The train will leave in ten minutes. Make sure you complete you assignments in the holidays.'
They stood without a single word, and left.
***
'Hey.' said Ron.
'What?' Hermione asked.
Ron pointed out of the window of the train that was slowing down. 'Welcome back to Hogwarts.'
Chapter 1
Harry Potter rubbed his scar as he scowled over his essay.
'Is it hurting Harry?'
Harry looked up at Hermione Granger in surprise and realised what she was referring to.
'Oh. . . no, no it isn't. It's. . . I just. . . Habit,' he finished lamely.
'Oh.'
'Yeah, nothing to worry about. You should show more concern about my homework.' Harry grinned.
He managed to distract Hermione. 'You didn't finish it?'
'Only Divination left.'
Hermione scoffed, 'Why should I show concern over that?'
'It's going to be part of my N.E.W.T.S Hermione!'
'Yes, and it will be your own fault if you fail it.'
As the two continued bickering, Ronald Weaseley joined them in their compartment as the train hurtled along the track towards Hogwarts.
'Hey.' He gave Hermione a peck on her cheek before settling down. 'What are you two up to?'
As Hermione complained to her boyfriend, Harry went back to his essay, still grinning. They didn't change, not really. True, Ron and Hermione were now a couple, as he had always thought they would be. It was strange how two such unlike people managed to attract each other. Couple or not, Ron and Hermione were still Ron and Hermione, the two best friends he had first made since the first year in Hogwarts.
Hogwarts. . . who would have thought time could fly so mercilessly by, even by wizarding standards. Five years had passed since he had first stepped into the castle that was his school and home. Now, they were all entering his sixth year. What new surprises lie in stall?
Or maybe, Harry's thoughts grew darker, it should be what new horrors await?
Since the resurrection of one Lord Voldemort, nothing remained the same. Lessons in school would continue, business would proceed in Gringotts' Bank, witches and wizards alike would hurdle together at the Three Broomsticks. . . but always the menace of Voldemort hung in everyone's mind and lingered in every corner.
'Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know. . .'
This was what Sirius Black, his godfather, meant. Terror, confusion. . . Voldemort did not even need to do anything disastrous. A fire at a hospital here, a contact to a Dementor there, a flick of the wand of Morsmordre to reveal his presence, or omnipresence, was enough to cast a gloom over the strong and hysteria over the weak.
Harry caught himself rubbing at his scar again. Stealing a glance at the still bickering pair assured him that they had not noticed.
His scar had bothered him sporadically throughout the holidays. It did not cause him pain as before. Rather, it seemed to be tugging at his will, calling to him. None of which made any sense. He wandered if he should talk to Dumbledore. It seemed to be another habit now, seeking the Headmaster's advice. He winced slightly. As enjoying or enlightening as their conversations always were, he felt uncomfortable at the fact that the time he spent with Dumbledore was much greater than that of any other student.
'All this special treatment is getting into your head Potter. Do you think you are no longer a student but an Auror? One who can call on the Headmaster anytime you want?'
Snape's voice cut through his thought. Harry involuntarily snorted. This time, he got his friends' attention.
'What?' Ron asked.
Harry related the 'appearance' of Snape to them. They did not know whether to laugh or sigh.
In the past year, Snape was the only one to change in front of their eyes. Reluctant as they were to admit at first, Snape had grown in their esteem, much to both sides' chagrin. After all, Snape still disliked them immensely while they still believed he was an arrogant git, to put it mildly. And yet, if the past year had shown them anything, it was the truth as to where their Potions Master's loyalties lay.
Ironically, it was Ron who was the first to accept such a drastically devastating fact.
***
'Dad told me he knew Snape,' he said blankly to the other two after they met each other again at the beginning of their fifth year. 'Said he's the best they've got to beat You-Know-Who.'
'Voldemort,' corrected Harry.
'If you insist! Who cares how we call him?'
'How can they be so sure?' It was a question that repeatedly burnt in Harry's head.
'Dad said he'd rather trust Dumbledore than Fudge.'
'He's right.' Hermione stayed silent, before picking the courage to ask, 'Harry, do you hate him? Snape, I mean.'
Did he hate him? How could he not? Snape was the only teacher who ever showed him contempt and used every stray opportunity to punish him and the other Gryffindors.
'Are you telling me you don't?'
Ron scoffed, 'Harry, Hermione doesn't hate any teacher.'
'Sometimes, it almost seems you're actually understanding. . . and to answer you Harry. . . Ron's right. I don't hate Snape. Least ways, not now.'
'Why?'
'You saw the times he had saved you Harry.'
'He tried to get Padfoot and Professor Lupin killed.'
'Yes, yes that was pettiness on his part. I think, that if he had known the whole truth, he wouldn't have done it.'
Harry turned to Ron, 'Can you believe her?'
To his surprise, Ron blushed, 'Yeah. Dad told me some things. . . But I can't tell you!' He quickly added when he saw the curiosity permeating through the two's countenance. 'You have to wait until others are willing to tell.'
And so Harry and Hermione waited. They, as the all-too-common saying went, received more than they had bargained.
Throughout their fifth year, Snape deteriorated in front of their eyes. Even the dense Twiddledee and Twindledum, or Crabbe and Goyle, sensed the change. Or maybe, as Hermione pointed, they heard from their fathers what had happened.
At the beginning, the change was imperceptible. Snape continued to be the Snapish character he was, rude, mean, offensive. If possible, his tongue became more poisonous than before.
'Longbottom, for pity's sake, get back to Year One!' Snape once yelled when Neville had done a relatively harmless mistake of using Hermione's cauldron instead of his own.
It became clear as time went by that Snape's nerves were increasingly frayed. He was not only irritable, he was downright unreasonable. If it were not for the trio's determination to find out more about Snape, they would not have been able to observe the other more disturbing signs.
During Potions lessons, Snape had gradually stopped roaming round the class. His wit and mental capabilities still remained, as he snapped at everyone who made the slightest mistake, including those who sat at the back of the room. He still walked the corridors with his strong strides, and completed his nightly duties of patrolling with the usual tenacity. However, he was no longer seen at mealtimes and the trio could tell he was not using his strength more than necessary.
It was at the end of August that led them to discover the extent of Snape's extra activities.
That night, as Hermione was secretly returning to her dormitory from the library, she passed the hospital wing and saw the light inside flickering erratically. Worried, she took a peek, nearly gasped out loud, and ran to the Common Room to call for Harry and Ron. Together, under the new, much larger Invisibility Cloak Harry had bought, they hurried down to the hospital wing.
They crept into a corner. Before them, lay a scene, which they would tell their children for the rest of their lives.
It was surreal, almost comforting and peaceful in its way. The room was surrounded with dozens of candles with flames glowing with a warm orange. At the centre was a simple white bed, with Snape hovering above it, relaxed. The candles slowly encroach on him. The trio watched in awe as the candles swirled around him. Faster and faster they spun, until. . .
Hermione screamed but no one seemed to hear her. The room had plunged into darkness, before lighting up again with a green light, the same shade of green that flared when someone had cast Avada Kedavra. There was no rest in the room now, only undiluted fear. Screams echoed from all sides, attacking them with such ferocity they lifted their hands to try to block them vainly. Helpless, they had to watch Snape convulse in front of them. Then, they actually saw the air rush into him and felt as though they were carried along. As soon as the air entered, it came out again, this time bringing images of memories that could only belong to Snape's.
He had been to a Death-Eaters' gathering. Flashes of dead bodies, ripped from their graves, were tossed around as though the Death-Eaters were looking for specific targets. Some were too decayed, with worms frantically crawling out; others too old when the person had died. Finally, after selecting ten, the group left for their leader.
To see Voldemort, albeit in an image, after months racked Harry's spirit. He had thought he was finally able to overcome his horror of him. Ron and Hermione, who had never seen Voldemort before, suddenly looked nauseous. Harry could not bother just then to see if they would puke.
Voldemort was apparently stronger than he was at their last encounter. Standing tall and majestic, his eyes burnt with an even brighter blood red. One by one, each Death-Eater knelt in servitude as they gave their own report. When it was Snape's turn, apprehension gripped the three students. The last image they saw was that of him crumbling to the ground and the cruel laughter that was all too familiar for Harry.
The room returned to the initial state that they had seen. They found out later that the whole incident only took five seconds. Five seconds it had taken to drain them of their willpower and change their perspective of reality.
All was silent, eerily so after the traumatising affair. Hence, the students could not be blamed for jumping when a soft voice addressed them. 'Children?'
They turned to find Dumbledore, McGonagall, Pomprey and Sirius Black facing them. Their cloak had been flung onto the floor. It was Dumbledore who had spoken up.
'Go to my office,' he instructed gently, 'The password's Chocolate Fog. I will join you in a minute.'
Stunned, they automatically did what they were told. When they reached the door, Harry looked back to see Snape now lying on the bed, so still he wondered if he were dead.
No one said a word until they reached the gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office.
'Chocolate Frog,' said Harry mechanically. But the gargoyle did not budge.
'He said chocolate fog Harry.' At this, the gargoyle leapt to one side.
They headed for the office.
'Chocolate fog?' Harry mused, as they entered the room.
'Harry, I don't want to dispute about chocolates right now.' Hermione did look tired. Ron quickly carried a chair to her.
It was not long before Dumbledore and Sirius arrived.
'Harry.' Sirius came forward to hug the boy.
'Sirius? I thought I was dreaming when I first saw you. What are you doing here? Isn't it too risky?'
'Don't worry about my safety. The headmaster has attended to that. As to what I'm doing here. . .' Sirius rubbed his brow, 'I'm here to gather inside information, to tell the others. Been doing so since your fifth year.'
'Others? But, who are they? And why didn't you tell me in your letters?'
'I think, we should all settle down. You forgot your cloak Harry. Here.' Dumbledore took his seat at his table. Holding out a box, he asked, 'Chocolate fog?'
When all shook their heads, he opened it cautiously. True to its name, a brown mist seeped out as Dumbledore twirled it round his finger before consuming it. Putting the box back into the drawer, he faced them and smiled kindly. 'You are no doubt eager to know what has happened in the past months.'
'First, I will not tell you who our helpers are. It is already dangerous enough to know that Sirius is actually visiting Hogwarts regularly. It's why I told him not to inform you Harry.'
'Yes sir.'
'You know that Voldemort has become more powerful. Even the Ministry and the Daily Prophet cannot hide that. What is not known is what his actual plans are in his bid to conquer the wizarding world. I shall not attempt to tell you since we do not have all the facts yet. Are you also aware that Professor Snape has returned to his spying duties?'
'Yes sir, we sort of guessed it.' Hermione whispered.
'You have seen tonight what he has been through. After every meeting with the Death-Eaters and Voldemort, he would return to me. The ritual, developed by Professor Flitwick, is a combination of the most ancient and rudimentary magical powers. There is an additional advantage of using it over a Pensieve. Not only does it show a person's memories, it helps alleviate a person's physical stress.'
'Stress?' Ron blurted out, although he already knew the answer.
'Cruciatus.' Dumbledore's voice was hollow. 'Voldemort's fanciful whims are endless and unexpected.'
Harry had sufferred Cruciatus before. Once. And he prayed he would not have to endure it anymore. Snape was submitted to it for Merlin-knows how many times, and he kept going back. . .
'Is that why he's been so weak?'
Dumbledore's eye twinkled a little before sadness claimed him again, 'Severus would deduct fifty points from you if he had heard you Miss Granger. But yes, you are right.'
'Would he, would he go mad?'
'Professor Snape's a powerful wizard, more so than anyone can describe.'
'Like yourself?'
'I,' said Dumbledore ambiguously, 'am born by accident.'
'Sir,' Ron's excitement made him tremble, 'Shouldn't the staff make precautions to prevent anyone from barging into the hospital wing while the. . . the ritual is carried out? I mean, what if a Slytherin found out Snape, beg your pardon, Professor Snape, is working for you?'
Dumbledore's expression became stern. 'Understand this Mr. Weaseley. Not all Slytherins are evil. Just as not all Gryffindors are noble. Severus was a Slytherin and Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor. Your father, I believe, has told you of past Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who were caught as Death- Eaters.'
Ron was suitably upset, 'Yes sir. Sorry.'
'As for your concerns, do not worry. The staff always puts up the strongest wards around the hospital wing before the ritual.'
'Then, how did we. . . You wanted us to see!' Hermione was thunderstruck.
'Precisely, Miss Granger. Very astute. Since the beginning of this year, I noticed the keen interest possessed by the three of you in Professor Snape. After careful consideration and discussion with Professor McGonagall, I decided that you were all capable of discretion, seeing that you did not tell anyone of your suspicions. I went on to put an end to your doubts once and for all, to show you who Professor Snape is. An agent, not of the supposed light and dark, but of his own convictions.'
'His own convictions?'
'I think, I don't have to tell you what his convictions are. You have seen more than enough tonight to be at ease with Professor Snape. However, if you wish to understand, I will arrange a meeting for you with him.'
At any other time, the three Gryffindors would have been horrified at having to spend time with Snape. Now, a burning desire to know more mingled in as well.
'Does Professor Snape know? About you letting us in tonight.'
'No, he doesn't. I shall tell him. He will be too pleased to hear of your concern for him. Kindly do not snort Sirius. It's rude, not to mention unbecoming.'
Sirius jerked his head up, 'It's late Professor.'
'Indeed. You may leave now. Harry may see you off if he wants. Miss Granger and Mr. Weaseley, however, must return to their dormitories.'
'Seeya Harry.' The two sped off.
When Harry and Sirius walked across the field to the gate, Harry spoke up.
'You were quiet back there Sirius.'
'You didn't talk much yourself.'
'I'm trying to get everything in.'
'I suppose it is a little overwhelming.'
'Sirius,' said Harry urgently, 'Do you believe Snape?'
Sirius paused in his tracks before continuing.
'If I had more time, I would have a deeper conversation with you Harry. As it is. . . I trust him with your life. . . and all the other students', including Muggleborns'.'
'Sirius, does all this mean that you are not enemies with him anymore?'
'In a way, it's tiring to hold on to hatred, but it doesn't go away so easily either. Let's just say Snape and I have formed a stronger, better truce than the one we did during the Triwizard Tournament.' Sirius chuckled softly, 'He still hates my guts, and I his. But yes, we've come to an understanding.'
'Does it mean I shouldn't hate him?'
'That is for you to decide. I'll say this Harry, and listen well. You don't know what hate is. Hate is blind. It consumes you. There is no reason in hate. At the end, it destroys you, as it nearly did for me. If you are asking whether you should hate him, it's safe to say you don't actually hate him, and that is good.' Sirius stopped at the gate. 'Take care. Go straight back. Don't loiter around.'
'Yeah, you keep safe too.' Harry watched passively as Sirius turned into his dog form.
It was only on the last day of the school year when Snape finally consented to have a talk with the three of them. Needless to say that when he had known what Dumbledore had done, Snape had exploded and proceeded to treat the trio as though they were Gildroy Lockhart, only without any pretense of restraint.
Hence on that fateful day when everyone was packing up to head home, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked with heightened wariness towards the Potions Master's office.
'Sit,' Snape waved three chairs at them. 'Now,' his mouth twisted into a smirk, 'How may I serve you?'
'Er. . .' the three were dumbstruck.
It was Ron who risked his neck. 'Didn't Professor Dumbledore. . .'
'Yes, of course. What I want to know is how I can trust you with what Professor Dumbledore wishes me to tell.' Snape's tone was deadly, 'For one slip, no matter how small, can cost not only my life or sanity, but everyone else's.'
Without hesitation, the three pledged by the honour of Hogwarts and Godric Gryffindor that they would be steadfast in their discretion or be sent to Azkaban.
'Or be eaten by spiders,' Ron added.
Snape scowled over them for several unnerving moments. Then, he swept abruptly round to his table. Taking a bottle of yellow liquid, he barked his question, 'Do you know what Meritaserum is?'
'Yes sir. It's another form of truth potion, but it keeps a person lucid unlike Veritaserum.'
'How like you to read from the restricted section Miss Granger,' Snape poured the liquid into his goblet, 'Much as I loathe using it, I hope that this little chat will be our first and last. Hence, this truth potion will curb your tedious suspicions over whether I am telling the truth, so that we may be done with it, and move on happily.'
'Sir, excuse me,' Harry said softly, 'If you think we doubt you so much, why do you think we'll believe that is the real potion?'
'A horrifying sharp question Potter. I didn't expect you to have such mental abilities.' Snape took another cup, poured a significantly smaller amount of liquid into it and gave it to Harry. 'This smaller dose will only last five minutes.'
Harry tensed. He stole a glance at Ron and Hermione. They did not seem overly anxious. Moving quickly before he could regret it, he drank from the cup. A tingle of warmth spread over him.
'Now, Potter, do you like Miss Cho Chang?'
'Yes sir.'
Snape's eyes glittered maliciously, 'How romantic.' He walked back to his seat.
Hermione did not help relieve the embarrassing moment. She was giggling. Harry tried to dispel his discomfort.
'Of all the questions, couldn't you ask something more relevant, or important?'
'My dear Potter, I know more of your doings than you imagine. Besides, that was more amusing, as your esteemed partners in mischief obviously agree.'
Snape nonchalantly downed the contents of his goblet. 'You may begin your interrogation.'
This was it, the three realised. This was the moment they had wondered about, talked about. The man behind Severus Snape. Yet they were clueless as to where to start.
'Er. . . how old are you?'
Snape moaned dramatically, 'Of all the. . . Thirty-nine.'
'How old were you when you began teaching?'
'Twenty-four.'
'How old were you when you became a Death-Eater?'
'Ah. . . we are heading somewhere. Sixteen.'
Shocked silence followed.
'You became a Death-Eater in school?'
'In a way. I received the Dark Mark when I graduated.'
'How old were you when you turned to Dumbledore?'
'Twenty.'
Harry frowned, 'Why did you choose Voldemort?'
'I did not choose the Dark Lord. There was no choice.'
'Professor Dumbledore says there is always a choice in life.'
'Yes, he does, doesn't he?'
'You haven't answered my question.'
'I forgot to mention,' Snape drawled, 'that Meritaserum may force a person to tell the truth, but it doesn't prevent him from not speaking if he wants to.'
'Then I did not have to tell whether I liked. . . Bugger,' Harry grimaced, 'Alright, why did you choose Professor Dumbledore in the end?'
'Somewhere down the years while I was a Death-Eater, the heavens dropped a conscience onto me.'
'You were never remorseful of what you did before?'
'Never, at least, I believe so.'
'What did you do?'
'Torture, blood baths, experimentation on Muggles and Muggleborns, rape. . . Shall I continue?' Snape said it so calmly he might had been reading from a Potions list.
'Why tell us so much?' Hermione's tone shook.
'To let you have no illusions as to what we, the Death-Eaters, are. We are devoid of any morals. You do not speak about them to us, only the politics of advantages in any dealing.'
'You keep saying we and us.'
'I am a part of them.'
'When did you turn then?' Ron asked before the silence dragged any further.
'Some months before I approached Professor Dumbledore.'
'What happened?'
'Twelve of us were sent to a Muggle home in the countryside. I was there to steal some documents the Dark Lord wanted. As usual, any resistance met was overcome either by killing or stunning. It was then that I experienced my first kill, on an old man. I was. . . affected. I realised that being a Death-Eater only meant owning power over the weak. Such power's repulsive and weak in itself. I saw the company I was in. They enjoyed their activities in a way I did not. I saw Voldemort as he was. A much-too crazed and powerful wizard dangerously bent on seizing supreme control over the world.'
'Then what you did. . .'
'The activities I was involved in were an end to the means. There was no remorse.'
'Why did you join Voldemort?'
'Why ask it again? I'm not anxious to tell you.'
The four of them sank into an unexpected sort of comforting quietude, musing on their own.
'Sir?'
'What now Weaseley?'
'Do you believe in what you are doing now? Do you believe you are on the right side now? The just side?'
Snape scrutinised Ron with renewed interest. There seemed to be grudging respect as he said. 'Yes, I believe it.'
Ron smiled cautiously, 'That's all I need to know.'
'Does it mean the three of you are eager to leave?'
'Not yet.' Harry struggled to put his thoughts into words. 'A few more questions. . . You want to make amends for what you've done. You. . . have done so. You risked everything to be a spy.'
'I risked only my life.'
'And you are risking it again. Why aren't you at least satisfied with what you're doing? Why take your frustrations out of the students? Why are you such a morose bastard?'
'Harry!'
The atmosphere immediately became tense. Snape remained still long enough to make Harry think he was going to be expelled, with or without the school's permission.
'Have you ever betrayed your friends before Potter? No, of course not. The heroic Potter always sticks with his friends, always saves them. You don't understand the wretchedness of a soul who finds that his beliefs throughout his youth, the only things he clings to, fail him. He is wrong. Wrong, do you know how hard the word is? What it carries? He loses his sense, his self, and there is no one to show the way out. His friends, his very friends, he cannot turn to. They will not understand. They will think him mad. Perhaps he, perhaps I am. Be it so, he, I, am thrown into the icy winds. Then, someone, Dumbledore, shows me what to do. He tells me there is a choice. I take it. I help destroy Voldemort. I send my friends to Azkaban,' Snape's voice seemed more and more distant. 'My friends. . . Yes, even I have, or had, friends. I was young once. I was simply a student in Slytherin once. I made friends once. Not people who use you and leave you alone. But friends who may be superior to you in status but stick by you, who explain to you how society works, how you can survive in hypocrisy. Friends who save you from humiliation you are subjected to by fools who kick you just because you are different. Oh yes, I had friends once. Now they are gone. Some are sent to Azkaban, by my own hand. Those who escape, I avoid. It is so difficult to be near those you trust once but know you are separated, forever. By your own hand.'
'Slytherin friends. . .' he went on bitterly, 'Slytherin. . . That name alone is glory and power. To be linked to it is to be proud of it. At least it was so. Then the Dark Lord and all that he brought defiled it. He who could have been famous for his greatness, he whose intellect surpasses even his ancestor's. . . One flaw, and all potential crumbles. The hunger for revenge. Impatience rules, knowledge of superiority twists to sense of supremacy, eccentricity flowers into madness.'
Snape stopped abruptly. The effort had cost him to be out of breath.
Quietness surrounded, but for the three students, this onslaught of confession and insight into the most obscure of wizards caused their hearts to beat in panic. Snape was painfully emotionlessly when he spoke, yet his somewhat incoherent answer was the most harrowing speech they had ever heard. They did not know what else they could say.
Snape roused himself, 'Go. The train will leave in ten minutes. Make sure you complete you assignments in the holidays.'
They stood without a single word, and left.
***
'Hey.' said Ron.
'What?' Hermione asked.
Ron pointed out of the window of the train that was slowing down. 'Welcome back to Hogwarts.'