Righto... part 2, see disclaimers in part 1 as well as warnings.
Fugue State 2
********
It's strange how a person's fate can be so arbitrarily decided. A turn of the wheel, a roll of the dice, or a task assigned to them. Some are born to their fate, nurtured and guided along by caring teachers and parents who instill a sense of values and beliefs into a person. Some are pushed into their roles of life by a father figure. Others are sent along their paths by neglect or need. And for some, no choice is ever given. Their future is never their own and they are always taught to work for the greater good. They are taught to never expect any recognition for their work, for while valued, must always be in secret. They are told that others need their help. That they will be rewarded once their task is done. They will be able to rest. They will be able to be themselves.
Even if, they've never known who they are, only what others have made them to be.
Many are lost to history, to secrets, to the cause. Some escape to the very enemy they are fighting. Most are never found.
And sometimes it's the little things that reveal everything that remained hidden for years. Secrets and plans that were never meant to be brought into the open. Doors that never should be opened, for to do so would be to undermine everything that one believed in. It could shatter a world. Rebuild a soul. Or destroy a man.
In the end, it was a child's homework.
********
It was a gathering of the Weasley clan. Since Arthur had been made Minister of Magic after Cornelius Fudge had been sent to St. Mungo's in the locked ward, the poor man had lost his mind after discovering that Voldemort had indeed been, alive, the Burrow had undergone a very nice remodeling. There were now five stories, a larger kitchen, an enormous dining room, and for the first time, a bedroom for each Weasley. As Bill and Charlie were wont to complain, it was nice that the parents had fixed the place up after they had left home. There was still no way that anything but magic could hold the house together as the fifth floor was perpendicular to the rest of the house and the fourth floor seemed suspended in space.
But for once, there was enough room for everyone. It was the Christmas holidays and the Burrow smelled of holly, pumpkinog and evergreen. The ceilings of the floors had been removed to make way for a Christmas tree that rivaled the one in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The one drawback was that in order to get to one's rooms, people had to step around the giant tree piercing through the house, but that was secondary to the festivities in the house.
The tree itself was a marvel unto itself. The branches were hung with tinsel, pine cones and ornaments. All had a mind of their own. The tinsel would change color to suit themselves. Mostly it tried to match the color of the Weasley sweaters that entered the room. It had tried with the new socks and gone into a sulk for a few days. The tinsel didn't appreciate multicolored hues with fuchsia in it. There were ornaments for all the Weasley children on the tree, with the exception of Fred and George. The first time those two had been hung on the tree, they had scared all the other decorations onto the fifth floor of the house as they danced around the tree and spat random pieces of tree and tinsel at anyone who walked by.
They were in a box by themselves.
It had been 363 days since Voldemort had died and no one seemed to be missing the conflict.
Harry, in particular had put the entire thing behind him. His days were filled with Quidditch and brooms and the ever growing groupies who followed him around to every match.
"I can't believe it either Ron."
"Can't believe what Harry?" Asked Hermione as she came into the living room carrying a large plate of cookies, chocolates and candies. A plate so groaning with sweets that her parents would have been sent into an automatic fit, tied her to the dentist chair and cleaned her teeth with a vengeance. She sat down on the floor facing the men, pulled a cushion to her back and stretched her legs out. Her toes were covered in Mrs. Weasley's new knitting project, socks. Very wooly.
"The Americans." Answered Harry as Ron began filling his mouth with sweets and nodding in agreement. "No one expected the Americans to get past round one of the World Cup and now they're in the quarterfinals. The match against Argentina? Amazing."
"Must be the women," mumbled Ron.
"Agreed" answered Harry. "Since the Americans replaced the entire team with women, they've won every game. And their Beaters? Quite frightening actually. I'm hoping that Portugal will knock them out in the Semis, if they get that far."
"I heard their Seeker is rather nice." Commented Hermione as she went for a slice of Mulberry cake.
"Yes," Ron answered.
"Ron, I don't want to hear it. It was bad enough you telling us about that trip you took to Brazil to see that man who stuck things up your nose. I'm not hearing about some crush you have on an American. Really. Have some taste, they don't even speak correctly." exclaimed Ginny from her perch on the couch. She looked up from her History of Hogwarts text and glanced at the trio on the floor. Looking nothing like the heroes of the wizarding world as they stuffed their faces with homemade treats.
"What are you working on Ginny?" Asked Hermione. "It's Christmas, even I'm taking a break this year."
"It's Binns. He's assigned all of us to write about the final Battle so that he can incorporate into the curriculum next year."
"Why the students?" Hermione inquired, "most of you weren't involved with the Battle."
"He wants us to look at how the Battle affected the students and staff. How the House reacted, what the staff did, and what they're doing now. I'm just stuck."
"On what?" Harry offhandedly asked, paging through the latest issue of Quidditch Weekly which feature him on the cover catching the snitch against Scotland.
"Snape."
The three on the floor looked to Ginny in confusion. All wondered why anyone would be focusing on the most hated teacher ever to enter Hogwarts. Everyone had been glad when they had recovered from the celebrations to realize that Snape was nowhere to be found. Headmaster Dumbledore and Poppy had taught the remainder of the school year in Potions and the Headmaster had already hired a new teacher. Not even the Slytherins seemed to mind. They were too busy trying to get through the remaining months without seeing a member of their family in the Prophet sent to Azkaban. The other house had also been affected, but none as much as the Slytherins, and it would take the longest for them to recover.
"What about Snape." asked Hermione.
"Well, there's nothing on him in the History."
"The book's been out for ages Ginny, you must be looking at an older copy." Replied Ron as he glanced over Harry's shoulder an ogled the American Seeker, who was stretched out across her broomstick grabbing for the snitch. "You know if that wasn't a Quidditch move, it would be illegal."
Hermione and Ginny shared a look, thus confirming that Ron had never opened the book other than to pat the cover once in awhile. "The book automatically updates itself Ron," answered Hermione. "That way all the teachers are included as well as the events of the year. If you buy a copy the updates happen automatically. That way nothing is left out."
"That's just it, Hermione," replied Ginny, "Snape's not in it. There's no record of anyone teaching Potions during the time he's been there, it just says Potions was under the supervision of Albus Dumbledore. That could be a typo, but then there's the other problem."
"What's the other problem?" asked Hermione.
"No one knows what happened to Snape before, during or after the Battle. It's as if he vanished off the face of the Earth."
"He didn't vanish Ginny," said the new voice from the doorway.
Ginny and Hermione looked up to see Percy at the doorway, presents floating beside him. Since taking over the position of Head from Crouch, Percy had transformed himself from a young, overworked administrator to a better dressed, oddly formal and very proper administrator. There really wasn't much difference, but he did have better robes.
"Where did he go Percy?" Asked Hermione.
"Azkaban."
Fugue State 2
********
It's strange how a person's fate can be so arbitrarily decided. A turn of the wheel, a roll of the dice, or a task assigned to them. Some are born to their fate, nurtured and guided along by caring teachers and parents who instill a sense of values and beliefs into a person. Some are pushed into their roles of life by a father figure. Others are sent along their paths by neglect or need. And for some, no choice is ever given. Their future is never their own and they are always taught to work for the greater good. They are taught to never expect any recognition for their work, for while valued, must always be in secret. They are told that others need their help. That they will be rewarded once their task is done. They will be able to rest. They will be able to be themselves.
Even if, they've never known who they are, only what others have made them to be.
Many are lost to history, to secrets, to the cause. Some escape to the very enemy they are fighting. Most are never found.
And sometimes it's the little things that reveal everything that remained hidden for years. Secrets and plans that were never meant to be brought into the open. Doors that never should be opened, for to do so would be to undermine everything that one believed in. It could shatter a world. Rebuild a soul. Or destroy a man.
In the end, it was a child's homework.
********
It was a gathering of the Weasley clan. Since Arthur had been made Minister of Magic after Cornelius Fudge had been sent to St. Mungo's in the locked ward, the poor man had lost his mind after discovering that Voldemort had indeed been, alive, the Burrow had undergone a very nice remodeling. There were now five stories, a larger kitchen, an enormous dining room, and for the first time, a bedroom for each Weasley. As Bill and Charlie were wont to complain, it was nice that the parents had fixed the place up after they had left home. There was still no way that anything but magic could hold the house together as the fifth floor was perpendicular to the rest of the house and the fourth floor seemed suspended in space.
But for once, there was enough room for everyone. It was the Christmas holidays and the Burrow smelled of holly, pumpkinog and evergreen. The ceilings of the floors had been removed to make way for a Christmas tree that rivaled the one in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The one drawback was that in order to get to one's rooms, people had to step around the giant tree piercing through the house, but that was secondary to the festivities in the house.
The tree itself was a marvel unto itself. The branches were hung with tinsel, pine cones and ornaments. All had a mind of their own. The tinsel would change color to suit themselves. Mostly it tried to match the color of the Weasley sweaters that entered the room. It had tried with the new socks and gone into a sulk for a few days. The tinsel didn't appreciate multicolored hues with fuchsia in it. There were ornaments for all the Weasley children on the tree, with the exception of Fred and George. The first time those two had been hung on the tree, they had scared all the other decorations onto the fifth floor of the house as they danced around the tree and spat random pieces of tree and tinsel at anyone who walked by.
They were in a box by themselves.
It had been 363 days since Voldemort had died and no one seemed to be missing the conflict.
Harry, in particular had put the entire thing behind him. His days were filled with Quidditch and brooms and the ever growing groupies who followed him around to every match.
"I can't believe it either Ron."
"Can't believe what Harry?" Asked Hermione as she came into the living room carrying a large plate of cookies, chocolates and candies. A plate so groaning with sweets that her parents would have been sent into an automatic fit, tied her to the dentist chair and cleaned her teeth with a vengeance. She sat down on the floor facing the men, pulled a cushion to her back and stretched her legs out. Her toes were covered in Mrs. Weasley's new knitting project, socks. Very wooly.
"The Americans." Answered Harry as Ron began filling his mouth with sweets and nodding in agreement. "No one expected the Americans to get past round one of the World Cup and now they're in the quarterfinals. The match against Argentina? Amazing."
"Must be the women," mumbled Ron.
"Agreed" answered Harry. "Since the Americans replaced the entire team with women, they've won every game. And their Beaters? Quite frightening actually. I'm hoping that Portugal will knock them out in the Semis, if they get that far."
"I heard their Seeker is rather nice." Commented Hermione as she went for a slice of Mulberry cake.
"Yes," Ron answered.
"Ron, I don't want to hear it. It was bad enough you telling us about that trip you took to Brazil to see that man who stuck things up your nose. I'm not hearing about some crush you have on an American. Really. Have some taste, they don't even speak correctly." exclaimed Ginny from her perch on the couch. She looked up from her History of Hogwarts text and glanced at the trio on the floor. Looking nothing like the heroes of the wizarding world as they stuffed their faces with homemade treats.
"What are you working on Ginny?" Asked Hermione. "It's Christmas, even I'm taking a break this year."
"It's Binns. He's assigned all of us to write about the final Battle so that he can incorporate into the curriculum next year."
"Why the students?" Hermione inquired, "most of you weren't involved with the Battle."
"He wants us to look at how the Battle affected the students and staff. How the House reacted, what the staff did, and what they're doing now. I'm just stuck."
"On what?" Harry offhandedly asked, paging through the latest issue of Quidditch Weekly which feature him on the cover catching the snitch against Scotland.
"Snape."
The three on the floor looked to Ginny in confusion. All wondered why anyone would be focusing on the most hated teacher ever to enter Hogwarts. Everyone had been glad when they had recovered from the celebrations to realize that Snape was nowhere to be found. Headmaster Dumbledore and Poppy had taught the remainder of the school year in Potions and the Headmaster had already hired a new teacher. Not even the Slytherins seemed to mind. They were too busy trying to get through the remaining months without seeing a member of their family in the Prophet sent to Azkaban. The other house had also been affected, but none as much as the Slytherins, and it would take the longest for them to recover.
"What about Snape." asked Hermione.
"Well, there's nothing on him in the History."
"The book's been out for ages Ginny, you must be looking at an older copy." Replied Ron as he glanced over Harry's shoulder an ogled the American Seeker, who was stretched out across her broomstick grabbing for the snitch. "You know if that wasn't a Quidditch move, it would be illegal."
Hermione and Ginny shared a look, thus confirming that Ron had never opened the book other than to pat the cover once in awhile. "The book automatically updates itself Ron," answered Hermione. "That way all the teachers are included as well as the events of the year. If you buy a copy the updates happen automatically. That way nothing is left out."
"That's just it, Hermione," replied Ginny, "Snape's not in it. There's no record of anyone teaching Potions during the time he's been there, it just says Potions was under the supervision of Albus Dumbledore. That could be a typo, but then there's the other problem."
"What's the other problem?" asked Hermione.
"No one knows what happened to Snape before, during or after the Battle. It's as if he vanished off the face of the Earth."
"He didn't vanish Ginny," said the new voice from the doorway.
Ginny and Hermione looked up to see Percy at the doorway, presents floating beside him. Since taking over the position of Head from Crouch, Percy had transformed himself from a young, overworked administrator to a better dressed, oddly formal and very proper administrator. There really wasn't much difference, but he did have better robes.
"Where did he go Percy?" Asked Hermione.
"Azkaban."