5. Showdown

Some time after the Death Day party Sir Nicholas suddenly stopped visiting. Severus was quite sure it was still winter, so only a few months had passed at most.

At first Severus thought nothing of it. As the Gryffindor House ghost, Sir Nicholas was at times busy and unable to come out to the Shrieking Shack as often as during the holidays. However, usually he gave Severus at least some warning, and as the days passed and Sir Nicholas still did not appear, Severus began to become worried.

Had something happened to the ghost? But who or what could harm a ghost? Had the headmaster discovered their little excursion out of the dungeons on Hallowe'en and was he now punishing Severus, punishing Nicholas? Had he forbidden Nicholas to visit him for a while? Forever?

Or perhaps Sir Nicholas had finally tired of Severus, had finally tired of hearing Severus complain about the injustice done to him, about Black and Lupin and Dumbledore and the Shack. Yes. The Gryffindor ghost had probably finally decided that Gryffindor had been redeemed, that he had done sufficient penance for the others. Had that not been Sir Nicholas' reasoning for keeping Severus company in the first place?

Severus laughed bitterly. He should have expected that this would happen. Why would Sir Nicholas, such a nice and kind ghost, ever want to spend time with Snivellus Snape? This shouldn't have been such a surprise. Of course the other ghost was going to desert him like this. It was a wonder he had kept the facade up for so long. Sir Nicholas had lured Severus into a false sense of security, had convinced Severus he was his friend, only to desert him like everybody else in his life and death had. Would he never learn? You could never trust a Gryffindor. You could never trust anybody.

He tried not to let this betrayal get to him, tried to forget the past eleven years of friendship. Severus didn't need some two-faced, do-goody Gryffindor to keep him company. He didn't need anyone.

The complete and utter isolation was worse than before. Before, he had not known otherwise. Before, the memory of his death had been fresh and a constant presence in his mind to distract him. With Sir Nicholas' help and the passage of time, however, the memory had lost a lot of its urgency, and his thoughts kept wandering back to his 'friend'.

Foolishly, stupidly, he kept hoping for Sir Nicholas to come floating through that trapdoor. Any moment now. Any moment now.

The self-control Severus had worked so hard to gain over the past decade rapidly vanished. What was the point of it anymore? What else could he do but shriek and relive his death? So he did, again and again and again, until he had exhausted himself and was nothing more than a chill in the room and a sigh in the air.

Severus' existence narrowed to these brief moments of peace, when he was hardly conscious of himself, and time lost the little meaning it had gained.

Then one day – or night or morning or evening, it made no difference – Sir Nicholas floated up through the trapdoor as if nothing had happened.

"Ah, Severus. You are a sight for sore eyes. My sincerest apologies for my long absence, but a basilisk had petrified me. Frightful thing, only a Slytherin would think to keep such a thing as a pet."

The Gryffindor ghost shivered, and then proceeded to tell Severus what had happened up at the Castle over the past half year. Slytherin's heir, the Chamber of Secrets, a diary with the essence of a young Lord Voldemort that had possessed a young Gryffindor girl. Professor Sprout's mandrakes that had provided the cure for the petrified ghost, cat and students. Harry Potter, who had slain the basilisk and the spectre of Tom Riddle.

Severus listened to the fantastic story and did not let his eyes leave the other ghost, afraid Sir Nicholas would disappear never to return this time.

When Sir Nicholas was finally done, he looked at Severus more thoroughly and then sighed. Severus knew the Gryffindor ghost saw more than he would want him to.

"Did no one tell you what had happened? I had hoped Dumbledore –" the other ghost's voice trailed off and he shook his head, taking one of Severus' hands in both his own.

"I would never desert you like that, Severus. On my honour, as a Gryffindor – and yes, I know you have little reason to trust the word of a Gryffindor – if I do not visit you it will be because of something beyond my powers. And I promise, I swear to you, that I shall make arrangements that should something like this happen again, Merlin forbid, someone will warn you."

Sir Nicholas spoke solemnly, and after a moment's hesitation, Severus nodded. The other ghost smiled broadly.

"Good. Now, do you remember that pompous man Lockhart, the Defence against the Dark Arts Professor this year? Well, apparently his books are more fiction than fact, and he –"

Sir Nicholas kept his word, and on his next visit, he brought with him Hufflepuff House's ghost, the Fat Friar, Joseph to his friends. Moreover, he did this without Dumbledore's permission, or knowledge. Severus promised that he would not reveal the truth of his death, or the reason for his confinement to the Shack, while the Fat Friar took a solemn oath not to ask and to keep Severus' presence in the shack a secret. This way, Sir Nicholas told Severus, he was at least keeping to the spirit of his promise to Dumbledore.

Joseph was an amiable ghost, and he even came to see Severus on his own a few times during the summer. Severus listened while Joseph talked mainly about himself and Hufflepuff as there was little he could say without revealing too much. He was startled to one day realise he had two friends now, and he cautiously hoped that this would herald better times.

However, a few weeks before the start of the new term, Sir Nicholas entered the Shack nervously. He hesitated before revealing the identity of the new DADA Professor. Remus Lupin.

Severus could not contain himself. He could not believe Dumbledore would allow the werewolf to return to Hogwarts, to teach and endanger the children. Sir Nicholas tried to defend Lupin, but he did so half-heartedly. While he still believed that Lupin had been a victim of Sirius Black's prank just like Severus, his subsequent behaviour was not worthy of any Gryffindor in his opinion.

The Gryffindor ghost did not know what arrangements Lupin and the headmaster had made for the nights of the full moon, but he suspected they would use a cell in the dungeons. Dumbledore had at least told him that Lupin would not be using the Shack. Severus was unsure whether to be disappointed about this or not. If he never saw a werewolf again, it would be too soon. Nevertheless, he would have liked the opportunity to confront and remind his murderer of his crime and the blood he spilt.

Things only went downhill from there. A week later, Sir Nicholas came with the news that Sirius Black himself had escaped from Azkaban and that they feared he was out to kill the last remaining Potter. The Ministry was posting Dementors at the school, and the headmaster had spoken to Sir Nicholas and declared the Shrieking Shack off limits, at least, until Black was captured. He did not want to risk anybody following the Gryffindor ghost and inadvertently discovering the Shack – and thus Severus and the new DADA Professor's secret. The fact that such a thing had not happened over the past twelve years did nothing to dissuade Dumbledore.

At least Dumbledore had allowed Sir Nicholas to warn Severus, and they both agreed that it would be too dangerous for the Fat Friar to visit him either, lest the headmaster notice. The Gryffindor ghost promised to do all he could to get the ban lifted as soon as possible, but Severus doubted that would happen before either Black was caught, or Lupin had left the school again. The longer either took, the greater the chance – Severus suspected – that Dumbledore would never allow these visits again. Either that or Sir Nicholas would lose all interest in Severus...

He was confined in solitude to the Shack once more, with no way of escape, no means of communication with anybody else. Depression and despair ate at Severus' soul and mind. He yearned for any distraction, knowing there would be none.

*~*

One day Severus was floating through the Shack, brooding as usual, when he heard the trapdoor being flung open and then dropped back in its place. He froze, silent and wide-eyed. Only one living person ever came here. Severus doubted the headmaster would come bearing good news.

There was the sound of pacing, and Severus gripped his rage and self-control tightly. He would not show fear in front of Dumbledore. Hands clenched into fists at his side, Severus swooped down through the floor to confront the intruder.

He halted in mid-air at the discovery it was not the headmaster, but Sirius Black.

Black spun around and stared back. He was older and nearly skeletal – a shadow of the handsome and arrogant boy he had once been. However, Severus would recognise his murderer anywhere. It did not matter that Black's hair was long and matted, that he was thin and filthy. It made no difference that his face was gaunt; that dirty rags hung about his bony body and his once bright blue eyes were misty and sunken into his skull. For a moment, fugitive and ghost made a frozen tableau, staring at each other in surprise.

Surprise turned to outrage and hatred. Severus shrieked, launching himself forward to fasten ghostly hands around Black's throat. They passed through Black and made him back away against one of the Shack's walls.

"Murderer. Bastard. You filthy rotten son of a bitch, how dare you show your face here?" Severus shrieked.

He loomed over Black – pitiful excuse for a human being that he was – and Severus surrendered himself to the rage and hatred that boiled within him, relishing the swipe of the werewolf's claws across his back, its gouging jaws on his leg.

"Look at what you did to me. Coward. Murderer. Look at me. What did I do to you? What did I do to deserve death? What did I do to you?"

Black's already sallow complexion had paled even more, and he raised a trembling arm as if to ward off the angry ghost.

"It was an accident, a stupid prank, just like the ones you played on us. I didn't mean –"

"A joke? Trying to kill me a joke? All I did was defend myself from you and your miserable troupe of Gryffindors: I turned your hair green, I hexed you with boils. You murdered me! Did you think it would be funny? Did they laugh? Did Dumbledore pet you on the head?"

Severus reached for Black again, torn and bloodied hands fruitlessly trying to grip the man's throat.

"Did I give you your taste for death, Black? Did you keep your hands clean when you killed the Potters too?"

"No."

Black threw himself out of the ghost's way and scrambled across the room, backing up against the stairs as Severus followed him relentlessly.

"I didn't. It wasn't me; it was Peter, we switched; my fault..."

Severus disregarded Black's incoherent mumbling.

"Stupid Gryffindors, they should have known you for what you are. A traitor and a murderer. You should have been drowned at birth, put out of your misery, out of ours. Murderer. Coward. Murderer."

The fact that Severus' throat was torn out, silvery blood gushing down his torn robes, did not hinder his shrieking. He swooped down and through Black's trembling and weeping form.

"What do you want from me?" The wretched man shouted, as he stumbled through the Shack, trying to escape Severus' attacks. "It was an accident. You were supposed to piss your pants. That's all. Remus hardly spoke to me after that, and I've spent the past twelve years in Azkaban for a crime I did not commit!"

"What about the crime you did commit? What about me? You murdered me, and I have been stuck in this hellhole. You led me straight into the jaws of your werewolf friend, and Dumbledore patted you on the head and covered up for you and that flea-ridden monster. My death, my blood is on your hands, Sirius Black, and you were not punished."

Black had reached the trapdoor and was scrabbling for purchase, pulling at the floorboards. He flung it aside, revealing his escape route, and as Severus swooped through him one more time, he changed into a great black dog. The animal jumped through the hole in the floor into the darkness below, its tail between its legs.

Severus shrieked and pounded the invisible barrier that kept him from following his quarry, his murderer, his victim.

"Get back here, Black. Murderer. Face me, you coward. Look at what you did to me!"

*~*

It took Severus a long time to calm down after Black's departure. Every time he saw the hole in the floor, the exit he could not escape through, the rage bubbled up inside him, and he would shriek and display his stigmata once more.

How dare Black come to this place, thinking he might find refuge at the scene of his crime? He had evidently not expected to find Severus' ghost haunting the Shack; Dumbledore must have only told the werewolf about Severus' ghost.

Curse Dumbledore. If he had not forbidden Sir Nicholas from seeing Severus, then Black might have long been apprehended. He doubted that the wise and almighty headmaster knew about Black's secret, knew that Gryffindor's black sheep was an Animagus. And what a fitting form too. Mangy, wretched cur that Black had always been.

Time passed slowly, and Severus concentrated on his rage and hatred to keep himself sane. He knew winter had come and gone, and could only deduce from the fact Sir Nicholas had still not been to see him that neither the Ministry nor Dumbledore had yet been able to recapture Black. What had Sir Nicholas said? They were worried he had come to kill the last Potter, to kill Harry.

Severus thought about the green-eyed boy he had seen only briefly at his friend's Death Day celebration. The Gryffindor ghost had told Severus all about him; how this boy had somehow managed to defeat the Dark Lord, that he had been the one to slay the basilisk last year, and that he had survived another attack in his first year. Something about a possessed teacher and the Philosopher's Stone.

James Potter's son. Severus remembered the elder Potter, remembered hating him with a passion equal to his hatred for Black, Pettigrew, Lupin, all those stuck-up arrogant Gryffindors. Hypocrites, the lot of them. However, when Black and Lupin murdered him, when Dumbledore bound him to this place, after nearly two decades had passed since he had been a boy, since he had been alive, and the grievances and slights Potter had put him through paled in comparison to his death.

Severus hoped that they would catch Black and soon, not just for his own sake, but before he harmed Harry Potter.

If only Dumbledore had not trapped him in this place, if only he had not forbidden Sir Nicholas from visiting. Severus would gladly share Black's secret; he doubted that Lupin – oh, and the werewolf would know, Severus was sure of that – had revealed that his childhood friend was an Animagus.

Spring was giving way to summer, and still Sir Nicholas did not visit. Nobody came, until the night of the full moon.

Severus knew there would be a full moon that night; it was one of the few things outside that he truly knew, that he for some reason could feel. He drifted through the empty shack and hoped that Lupin was chained up in a dungeon. And suffering. It was getting dark.

Then there was sound where there should be none. It came up from the hole in the Shack's floor, from the tunnel that led to the Whomping Willow. Severus floated into the Shack's main room and eyed the black hole that led to the tunnel and the Whomping Willow.

"Let go of me. Help, let go." the voice of a boy cried out, his pain evident. Severus hesitantly moved closer to the open trapdoor and tried to see what was going on. Then a big and scruffy black dog – Black – jumped into the Shack, dragging a red-haired boy by the arm. One leg was twisted and dragged at an unnatural angle, and the boy's face was pale from fear and pain. Severus recognised him immediately from Nicholas' Death Day party.

The dog finally dropped his victim, shook its dirty pelt and transformed into Sirius Black. The boy looked as if he were going to be sick, one hand clamped over his breast where something wriggled violently beneath the cloth, and his other hand clawing wildly at his robes, no doubt searching for his wand. There was a flash of wood in the boy's hand, and then Black was atop him, wrestling the wand from the boy's grip.

Severus shrieked and swooped through Black. "Murderer," he screamed, trying to distract him from the boy and stop him from gaining a wand. But his bloodied hands passed through Black's arms, and it was too late.

Black jumped away from the boy, and a maniacal grin twisted his gaunt features. "Shut up, Snivellus! Gelu Rigens Umbram."

Severus felt himself freeze in place, unable to move, escape, or make a sound. The blood that had been gushing from his throat stopped, hanging in the air like a silver mist. Black laughed, and then slung the boy over one shoulder and carried him up the stairs and away from the ghost.

Severus watched him go, his eyes all he could move. He raged against the spell that kept him prisoner, but it did not waver, and he strained to hear what Black was doing in the bedroom upstairs. Then he was distracted by more sounds coming from the tunnel. A ginger cat shot out of the open trapdoor and headed straight for the stairs, not even glancing at the frozen spirit.

"Harry, look. I think we're in the Shrieking Shack," he heard a girl whisper.

Oh. No, no. Get away from here, run. It's not safe, Black is waiting for you.

However, the two children could not hear him, and Severus watched helplessly as Harry and the bushy-haired girl from Sir Nicholas' Death Day party climbed through the hole in the floor and looked around with wide eyes. They were both holding their wands, tips alight with Lumos. Harry gasped when he saw Severus – suspended in mid-air, robes slashed open and throat a bloody silver mess – and there was recognition in his eyes.

In his mind, Severus pleaded with the boy to run, to go away and get help – Black is waiting for you – but there was a creak overhead, and the bushy-haired girl gripped Harry's arm and started pulling him toward the stairs. They crept silently up the stairs, and all he could do was watch them go.

Powerless, unable to intervene or help the children, Severus listened to the sound of footsteps, the creaking of the floorboards.

"You killed my mum and dad!" He heard Harry shout, and then the sound of scuffling, of fighting. Oh Merlin, please don't let Black hurt him, please don't let Black hurt him. He could hear the other boy and the girl shouting too, the cat hissing. There were thumps on the floor above, and the spell that held Severus wavered.

Finite Incantatem, Finitie Incantatem, Finite Incantatem. Severus repeated the mantra over and over in his mind. He had never tried to do magic as a ghost before, but he did not know what else to do as he fought against the weakening spell.

"No you don't!" Harry yelled, and the spell broke. Severus shot through the air and through the ceiling, up into the bedroom, dreading what he might find.

The red-haired boy was slumped on the four-poster bed. The girl sat beside him, clutching two wands. Black was sprawled against one of the walls, his skull-like face scratched and bruised, his nose bleeding, panting for air. Harry stood in the centre of the room and held his wand pointed at Black's thin chest.

"You killed my parents," he said in a slightly shaky and hoarse voice. Finger shaped bruises mottled the skin of his throat, but his wand did not waver.

"I don't deny it," Black replied quietly, "but if you knew the whole story –"

"Don't listen to him!" Severus shrieked, lunging for Black with his bloodied and torn hands. "He's a liar and a murderer. Kill him, kill him now, don't –"

However, Severus' sudden appearance and outcry distracted the boy, and Black lunged forward, twisting Harry's wand from his hand. The girl was crying, and she pointed her wand at the two struggling figures, unable to get a clear shot. Severus tried to distract Black, passing through him again and again, but the escaped convict ignored him, and Severus' attacks only seemed to hinder Harry.

"Expelliarmus."

Black had wrestled Harry's wand from his grip, and as he threw the boy off, he used it to summon the two wands the girl was holding.

"You have to listen to me, Harry. I didn't betray your parents, Peter did. We switched at the last moment. I thought I was so smart," he added bitterly. "Peter framed me for the death of those Muggles, and when I saw him in the paper, that and knew he was at Hogwarts, I had to get out. You must believe me."

"Don't trust him. He's a liar, a murderer, he killed –"

"Gelu Rigens Umbram."

Severus found himself once more frozen helplessly in the air, unable to do anything but watch whatever might unfold. The three children stared at him and Black, before the boy on the bed broke the silence and whispered, "You're mental."

"Ridiculous," the girl said faintly, gripping the redhead's hand.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead. You killed him twelve years ago!" Harry shouted.

Black bared yellow teeth as he shook his head in denial. "I meant to," he growled, "but little Peter got the better of me... not this time, though."

Black lunged at the redhead, making the boy cry out in pain as he landed on the broken leg. They grappled with each other, fighting over a squirming grey form as Harry and the girl tried to pull the maniac off their friend, fighting off the ginger cat, who had joined the fray as well. Severus could only look on helplessly.

With a shout of triumph, Black pulled away from the three children and held up a sickly looking grey rat.

"You see, James, Peter and I were Animagi, and Peter's form is a rat. When I saw that picture of your family in the Daily Prophet, I recognised him immediately. Clever bastard, hiding out with a Wizarding family –"

"There were witnesses who saw him die," Harry protested. "A whole street full of them..."

"They didn't see what they thought they saw." Black replied savagely, and he shook the squirming rat that was clawing and biting at his hand, desperately trying to escape. "He cut off his finger and turned into a rat, scuttling down into the sewers while the place went to hell. That's how I recognised him, the missing toe. I can show you."

He threw the rat on the floor and pointed his wand at the dazed creature. A flash of blue-white light erupted from the wand Black was holding, and there was another blinding flash of light when it hit the twisting form. The rat writhed in the grip of that light, and then a head started to shoot up, arms and legs shot out from its small body. In a matter of seconds, a short man with thin blond hair was crouching on the floor where the rat had been. The three children stared at the man in horror, and Severus could already see that they were starting to believe.

Severus sagged against the restraints of the spell. He tried not to listen to Black's explanation, tried not to listen to him convince Harry and the two others that he was speaking the truth, that he was innocent. Harry managed to stop Black from killing Pettigrew, but only just. Severus tried not to hear the boy's arguments, that they needed Peter alive to help them acquit Black. He did not want to watch Black give the children back their wands, except for Harry's. The boy insisted Black keep it for the moment, to make sure Peter did not escape.

Harry and the girl helped the redhead up, splinted his leg and then the odd procession started to leave. Harry paused in the doorway, and glanced back at Severus.

"Sirius?"

Black stopped, and his grip on Pettigrew's neck tightened cruelly – no matter that the small man was already body bound.

"Who is that? He seems to know you."

Black glanced at Severus, and he narrowed his eyes hatefully for a moment before plastering on an indifferent face and shrugging. "Just a ghost. The shack's always been haunted, hasn't it, Shrieking Sev? Come on, we must hurry. We will need to find a way into the castle and to Dumbledore without running into any of the Dementors."

And they left. They left the Shack, left Severus caught in Black's spell. He heard the murmur of their voices down the stair and to the trapdoor, Black revealing that he was Harry's godfather. The last thing he heard was a whisper twisting up from the tunnel to the bedroom above.

"Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Silence returned and Severus did not even bother fighting against the spell that held him. He stared at the empty room and waited. When the spell expired, sliding off him like melted snow, he was too exhausted to rage and shriek. He was but a ghost, trapped and helpless. There was nothing he could do. His lips twisted bitterly, and he passed through the floor and ceiling down to the Shack's main room. The trapdoor was back in its place, covering the hole in the floor.

*~*

Sir Nicholas appeared two days later. His face was grim as he shared the news of what had happened. That Black was still at large, but Pettigrew was in Ministry custody, and the Daily Prophet had already put out an article revealing Black's innocence in betraying the Potters. There was to be a new trial, and though it would probably take a year, no one doubted that Black would be acquitted.

"I knew he was here. I called for you, for Dumbledore, but I couldn't... And now he goes free yet again..."

"I am so sorry, Severus."

They were silent for a while.

"This year... After the basilisk, when Dumbledore did not warn you that I was petrified, and now this... It is wrong that Dumbledore has confined you to this place, Severus. It always has been, and I regret going along with this farce for so long. You are a Hogwarts ghost, and you deserve the respect and freedom each of us has."

Severus looked at Sir Nicholas questioningly, taken aback by the other ghost's serious face.

"Our loyalty to Dumbledore only goes so far. First and foremost, we are loyal to Hogwarts. I have told Joseph the truth about who you are and how you got here. He agrees with me, and I will be calling a meeting with the other ghosts over the summer holidays, while Dumbledore is away. He does not know everything that goes on at Hogwarts. We will find a way to right this, Severus, I promise you."

Sir Nicholas looked at him earnestly and then gripped Severus' arm, pulling him into a tight embrace. Severus closed his eyes and pressed his face against the ruffle of his friend's collar, as he tried to let himself hope.