Chapter 12 – The Ministry Hearing
The weeks passed, and January dragged its uneasy way into February. St. Mungo's admitted more than its usual share of suicidal wizarding children, depressed as they were by these two grimmest months of the calendar.
The obliviation of Severus' worst memories took the edge off his anxiety. He no longer seemed as interested in suicide. In fact, he even told Asphora LaChance about two prior attempts. For all intents and purposes, both had gone unnoticed by the adults who were supposed to be looking out for him, and had reinforced young Severus Snape's conclusion that he had been unworthy of their attention.
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One had occurred after a particularly humiliating pummeling by the Marauders during the boy's first year. They had ambushed Snape beneath the covered bridge where he had been collecting plant specimens for his potions work, presumably in retaliation for Sev's conjuring a blast-ended skrewt in Pettigrew's underwear, socks, and hankies drawer.
Potter had hexed Sev's wand right out of his sleeve before he'd turned halfway round. Pettigrew had held his arms pinned behind him while Sirius Black had thrown punch after punch. Severus had never enjoyed robust physical health, and Black both outweighed him and stood a good half-foot taller.
After he had grown tired of pummeling the Slytherin, Black had pushed him down and had yanked off his shoes and his trousers. Laughing, Sirius had thrown them into the river, where they were soon lost to sight. Severus had cried because they were his only pairs; this had led to another round of poking and prodding and calling him Snivelly.
After they had wearied of tormenting him, Severus had sat shivering and bruised on the riverbank looking at the sparkling cold water. Great waves of shame and self-loathing rippled through his being as he sat and shivered, knowing he could not return to the school looking the way he did. Finally, he had put out his arms and had tumbled into the water (for Severus had never been taught to swim), hoping that the current would drag him under and make short work of him.
The worst the river did was tumble him against numerous rocks and fill his nose and mouth with water. He hadn't even lost consciousness by the time it had rushed past a bend where the river meandered, depositing him on the soft bank cushioned by mud and last year's leaves. He had lain there crying, blaming himself for yet another failure.
His weeping had drawn the attention of Rubeus Hagrid, who had been out hunting ferrets. Sev had explained that he had fallen in while trying to catch a frog. He glossed past the fact that he had no trousers or shoes and the tenderhearted gamekeeper hadn't question him about it, sensing that the Marauders had been involved and the boy's pride had been at stake.
Hagrid had first taken the drenched boy to his hut, where he had wrapped him in an old horse blanket, and then had solemnly carried him to the Hospital wing. Thankfully for the child's pride, Hagrid had taken a path few students knew and he had not been seen.
Nurse Pomfrey had treated his cuts and bruises, assuming that they came from the buffeting by the current and not by a classmate. The nurse had also spoken to Professor Gallo Penderdandis, who had bought Severus new shoes and trousers out of the Slytherin House General Fund. Fearing that the boy had been molested, Dumbledore had questioned him further about the incident but Sev had been too ashamed to tell him the truth.
The second attempt had taken place after the Spring holiday. His father had beaten him again and Severus had returned to Hogwarts battered and shaky. His equilibrium was out of kilter so that he kept stumbling over his own feet. Of course, the topic of Snivelly's old man "giving him a smack- around" became the focus of the Marauders' attention. Determined to keep going in spite of it, Sev had kept enough hair in his face so no one could see his blackened eyes and bruised cheek.
The trouble had all started in Professor Daragon's Divination class. Tiring of looking at a wall of black hair sitting on the front row, Daragon had asked Severus to kindly get that mop out of his face. The Marauders had all tittered when Severus had refused. Daragon had asked again, and Severus had refused again. With that, the professor had used his wand to first raise Snape's chin and then to blow the hair away from his face. The professor had seen, and Severus had ducked his head in shame.
Black had said, "Looks like his old man's been at him again," and had laughed along with the other Marauders.
The professor had then apologized and had asked Sev if he wanted to go to the Hospital Wing. Instead of answering, the Slytherin boy had gotten up and strode out of the room. Since class was about to let out, there had been no point in anyone going after him.
Severus had hidden himself in a remote tower, determined to calm himself down. Unfortunately, he had been observed going there by Potter several days beforehand, and his secret hiding place was no longer secret.
The Marauders had pummeled on the door while Severus had cowered inside. Pettigrew had shouted that creepy greasy gits like Severus were better off dead; Potter had chimed in that Severus must be tired of stopping clocks and shattering mirrors with his looks; Black had told him that if he died, not a single person on campus would mourn him.
They had kept on and on and they would not leave. Severus had been trapped, something he greatly feared from many bad experiences at home.
Finally, Snape had opened the leaded glass window and had crawled out onto the sill. The cold wind had cut right through his threadbare robe and he huddled against it, wanting to jump and not wanting to. Sick with shame and dread, he had crouched there for half an hour or so, watching the students passing by below him and wondering what they would do if he jumped. Indecision had stayed his hand, and after a while the Marauders left. Unfortunately, once outside Moony had looked up and had seen Severus; this had caused him to hail a nearby teacher who stood by to slow the boy's fall if he did jump.
Well, there really was no point in jumping unless you knew you would succeed. Upon instructions from the teacher, Argus Filch had crept into the room, grabbing Severus from behind and dragging him away from the window. Sev had screamed and struggled, finally using a Dark hex on the man (who was and would always remain a squib) to gain his liberty. It was no good; two Seventh-Year Slytherin prefects had been waiting to grab him as he tried to run down the circular staircase.
Of course, he had been taken once again to the damnable Hospital Wing. Pomfrey had clucked and fretted over the boy's injuries, knowing without asking where they had come from. He had told her he was only looking at the carvings outside the window and there was no need to bother telling anyone about it, especially his father. Pomfrey had notified Dumbledore and both had written yet another report to the Ministry of Magic's Child Protection Bureau, destined like its predecessors to sit in some bureaucrat's file unread and forgotten.
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Severus had also told these stories to his Headmaster with his head down and his voice choked with shameful tears. Dumbledore had apologized to him, telling him that he hadn't known Sev had lived in such fear and asking his forgiveness. Needless to say, it had taken Severus quite a long time to settle down; the very thought of Albus Dumbledore apologizing to him was huge. He hadn't thought he was worth it.
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It seemed as if little had changed in the troubled boy's life as time passed in St. Mungo's. He still found the prospect of life outside its walls daunting. Still, he felt better than he had in a long while. His broken knee finally healed, pushing that ill-fated Yuletide Quidditch game at Potter's a bit further from his mind. He had talked to Asphora about the incident, berating himself for his misplaced trust. Asphora had said that he had done nothing wrong and that it was natural for people to want friends. Severus hadn't known that, since neither his father nor his mother seemed to have any.
The prospect of a halfway-safe Hogwarts as promised by his mentor did appeal to the Slytherin. All three of his healers/counselors worked hard to bring some closure to the boy's life with his father, but this was especially difficult with the hearing on the Elder Snape's early release drawing near.
Albus Dumbledore remained the constant in Severus' life. He visited the child every day, and the love and comfort he gave to him was worth a hundred years with counselors. Asphora LaChance knew that a gradual transition away from reliance on Dumbledore would be necessary for Sev's independence and self-reliance, but now was not that time. In fact, the young woman learned a great deal from watching them together and keying on what the Headmaster did to bolster the boy's self-esteem and downcast spirits.
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Night after night, and only after Severus had been safely tucked in bed, the healer and the Headmaster met and planned. The hearing was approaching, and they prepared to do their part in ensuring that the Dark wizard never tasted freedom again.
They also took the shivering gentleman in the wheelchair into their confidence. It appeared that Snape Senior had hit the man with the Cruciatus only a week before the former's incarceration. It now appeared that the man's nervous system had been permanently damaged and that he would most likely spend a lot of time in this institution. However, he was energized and cheered at the prospect of seeing the man responsible for his condition punished for what he had done to him.
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And at last – the day of the hearing had arrived.
The circular room had been sparsely filled. It seemed that the travails of a middle-aged and not-so-powerful Dark wizard hadn't attracted much interest. Dumbledore saw with clear and wise eyes, however, and was quick to pick out the adherents of Tom Riddle – now known as Lord Voldemort -- in the room. Some were even disguised as courtroom workers. They could fool most, but they couldn't fool the greatest White wizard in the world. "Professor Sartoris daren't show his face," the Headmaster thought. "Not if he values his own skin and his job. Watcher indeed! I'll be the one watching him."
The hearing judge came out of a side door, ascended the bench, and sat down. Albus knew Judge Petri to be an unremarkable but honest man. The two old sages nodded to one another in recognition. Asphora had been too busy sampling all the dark auras around the room to notice. Like Dumbledore, she had mentally separated friend from foe.
And then – there he was.
Confutatis Maledictis Snape.
His name meant, "to confound the wicked ones". Were his parents joking, perhaps, to give such a name to someone with such a sour and foul visage? Black hair, hawk nose, and thin build. Unfortunate. Severus would have done better to resemble his mother.
The Elder Snape swept the room with his flinty eyes, and the healer actually felt the evil in the man crawl all over her. She visibly shuddered, using her energy to push it back in the direction from which it came.
Dumbledore? What was that old fool doing here? Maledictis Snape remembered their last meeting. The Headmaster had been going on and on about his "abusing" his useless whelp of a son. Nonsense! A bunch of weak-willed twaddle! Coddling a child would not make him into a suitable acolyte for the Dark Lord. It certainly would not.
The Elder Snape tried to catch the man's eye to stare him down, but the clear blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore did not rest upon his wicked face for a single moment.
"This hearing is now called to order," the bailiff announced. A hush fell over the room. "The motion on behalf of Mr. C.M. Snape petitioning for early release from Azkaban Prison will now be heard. All those who wish to give testimony on this matter, approach and ye will be heard."
Judge Petri looked up and scanned the room. "Petitioner has served the minimum sentence allowed by the Dark Wizard Paraphernalia Sanctions Act of 1969 and seeks release on account of good behavior. Is there anyone who will speak for the Petitioner?"
A tall, thin gentleman with long white hair rose. "Avaris Malfoy, Your Honor," he said.
"Please approach."
The man had an impressive mien. He strode confidently to the Bench, polished black heels clicking on the floor. Asphora noticed his snake- headed cane.
"Dark, very dark," she whispered to Dumbledore.
He nodded.
The bailiff administered the oath. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips," Malfoy swore. "I have known the Petitioner since boyhood, and can vouch for him as a wizard and a citizen. He will return to his family, who has awaited his return with great anticipation. No constructive purpose will be served in keeping him in Azkaban."
"With great anticipation my – "the healer sputtered angrily. "That bastard."
"Watch and listen," Dumbledore whispered.
"Any questions for this gentleman?" Judge Petri said, looking around the room. "There being none, you are excused. Thank you, sir."
"Are you ready?" Dumbledore said. "Release your anger, for it will not help you here."
"Absolutely."
The hearing judge surveyed the room. "Anyone else? Very well. Is there anyone to speak against the Petitioner?"
Dumbledore and LaChance stood as one.
"We will speak against the granting of the Petition. May we approach?" the Headmaster asked in a ringing voice.
Snape curled his lip. He knew the one, but who was the other? A ridiculous witch with a ridiculous hairdo! Asphora held two parchments in her left hand. What in the name of Seven Hells did she want with him?
Dumbledore approached the bench. "For the record, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Once again, the bailiff stepped forward. "Kindly repeat after me. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"So noted," the judge said, nodding to the scrivener who busily scratched away with quill and parchment.
"I am Asphora LaChance, Healer, St. Mungo's Hospital. I am also an employee of the Child Protection Services Bureau. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"So noted. What is your objection?"
"We have many," Albus said.
Both Malfoy and Snape Senior straightened.
Raising his eyebrows, Judge Petri waved his hand in an outward gesture. "Kindly enlighten us, Professor Dumbledore."
The old wizard stood proud, waves of White light radiating from his being. "This is a man who has abused his wife for years, and his son since babyhood." He nodded to the healer.
"I wish to offer this parchment into evidence as an official St. Mungo's Hospital record detailing the first known instance of abuse," Healer LaChance said, solemnly handing it to the bailiff. "He fractured his baby's skull. Upon information and belief, the Petitioner had seized the infant and hurled him to the floor because he cried too much."
The bailiff brought the parchment to the judge, who spent a few moments reading in silence. "I believe I would have cried a good deal myself," he remarked. Snape Senior and Avaris Malfoy grimaced.
Asphora continued. "This same child – now sixteen years of age – is currently committed to St. Mungo's following a suicide attempt brought about by years of abuse at the hands of the Petitioner. He does not appear before you today because he is still too ill to be taken from the facility."
Snape Senior growled. That sickly, puling, self-pitying whelp! When he got hold of him again, he would make the prospect of suicide look like a blessing from Heaven.
"The second parchment you hold, Your Honor, is an official Hospital record detailing the boy's obliviated memories. As you know, this procedure is used only in the most extreme cases. I believe the document speaks for itself."
"I object," Snape said. "I have no idea if that document is a false one, dreamed up between those two at the behest of my son."
The Petitioner has not been sworn," the judge said. "Bailiff?"
"Kindly repeat after me. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
Snape sneered. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"So noted," Petri remarked to the scrivener. The Judge then laid the parchments before him, then tapped each with his wand. "Reveal your secrets," he murmured. A faint shimmer appeared above them, a ghostly watermark of St. Mungo's Hospital was displayed on each.
"They are genuine," Judge Petri intoned. "Objection denied."
The room was silent during the minutes it took for the Judge to read the second document. He lifted his head, and his eye pierced the form of Confutatis Maledictis Snape. "I will have Aurors gather further information relating to your abuse of your son. You may well have some more jail time in your future, Mr. Snape."
"We have yet another reason to petition against release in this matter," Dumbledore said. Lord Malfoy darted an uneasy glance at Snape, a sneer not unlike his son's appearing on his handsome face. "What is this farce?" he hissed.
"Proceed," Petri said.
From the other side of the round room, a door opened and a man in a wheelchair appeared, pushed by Sibelius Hammer. The healer brought his charge close to the bench, where Petri could see the man's constant twitching and trembling. Dumbledore stood next to him.
"This man is Alonzo Tippett, who suffers permanent neurological damage due to the repeated application of the Cruciatus curse."
"Bailiff? Kindly administer the oath."
"If you would, sir," the bailiff said. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
Determination and pride emanated from the sick wizard. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
The judge nodded at the man. "Proceed, Mr. Tippett."
"I was out in my back fields looking for my dog," the man stated, his voice as tremulous as his limbs. "when I came upon the light from a bonfire. Thinking it was naturally caused, I ran toward it. What I saw was a group of people wearing masks, standing before the fire. I believe there was – " the man halted, overcome by emotion – "– there was the remains of a human being tied to a stake in the middle of it."
The man stopped to gather his thoughts and get his emotions under control. "They heard me. One of them froze me with his wand. Another came rushing toward me, but slipped on the wet grass and fell to his knee. His mask slipped, and I got a good view of his face."
"This is ridiculous," Snape interjected.
"No sir," Tippett said. "No, it is not. The light from the bonfire gave me a clear view, Your Honor. And then – I heard the word "Crucio!" from his lips and – well, my life was forever changed." The man dropped his head, tears streaming down his face.
"Mr. Tippett," Judge Petri said. "Do you see this individual here today?"
The man – still quaking in his chair – lifted his face and gazed into the judge's eyes. "I do. It is the man who said my testimony was ridiculous. Sib, move this chair around, do!"
With half a swivel, Alonzo Tippett met the furious beetle-black eyes of Confutatis Maledictis Snape. His finger pierced the way to the man's black heart. "There. This is the man who cursed me. That man there! I will see his ugly Dark face until the day I die!"
A buzz arose amidst the assembled observers. Asphora LaChance watched Snape's aura darken from deep purple to pitch black.
Judge Petri looked around and then into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore, still standing by the man in the wheelchair. "It is my decision not to release Mr. C.M. Snape from custody, but to bind him over pending investigation and possible charges on child cruelty, two counts of attempted murder, and for using an Unforgivable. As you realize, Petitioner, conviction on the latter charge is punishable by the Dementor's Kiss."
"Lies! All lies and falsehood! Dumbledore has influenced my son's feeble mind and weak will."
"Speaking of lies and falsehoods, Mr. Snape," Judge Petri added, "We shall also look into additional charges for perjury. So ordered." He slammed down his gavel and rose. "This hearing is adjourned."
Dumbledore looked around for Lord Malfoy, and was not surprised to see that the man had already left.
"You fiend from Hell," Alonzo Tippett wept, still pointing at Snape. "You fiend from the Pit. I will live long enough to see your soul snatched, mark my words!"
Asphora LaChance's righteous anger was up. Without hesitation, she also addressed the Elder Snape. "As will I," she hissed. "I will see you suffer as you made your innocent child suffer. And may the Furies haunt you in the afterlife." Her own aura boiled and glowed with tinges of fiery red.
"Asphora," said Dumbledore. "Come along. We have good news to deliver to Severus."
"And you, you crackbrained old donkey!" Snape shrieked. "Taken over my son's mind, have you? You're welcome to the mollycoddled little whelp! He'll never amount to anything!"
"But he will, Mr. Snape," Albus calmly replied. "He will indeed. Even your evil couldn't break his strong spirit. I will give him your regards." Before he turned to leave, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry gave a little nod toward the Dark wizard.
Two horns blossomed from the top of the man's head.
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Both witch and wizard apparated back to St. Mungo's, looking for and finally finding Severus working on a puzzle in the common room.
"We have a surprise for you, honey," Asphora said.
Sev stood up, his face sober. He wasn't used to surprises. Not nice ones, anyway. "What – is it?"
"You might be interested in knowing that we both saw your father today," Albus Dumbledore said.
Sev's face fell. His eyes widened, and his shoulders hunched with anxiety. "He's – out --? Is that where I'm going since you couldn't find my mother?" Severus cursed himself under his breath for being so terrified. Hadn't his time in the hospital helped with that?
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart," said Asphora LaChance. "Today was the hearing on whether he should be released for time served. I do believe that he will end up getting kissed by something rather unpleasant instead."
"What?" shrieked Severus.
Dumbledore smiled. "His release was denied and he will face charges for child abuse, perjury, two counts of attempted murder, and for casting an Unforgivable. In other words, my dear boy, you need no longer live under his fearful shadow."
Severus slapped his hands over his face and bent over, overwhelmed. "Oh gods," the boy gasped. "Oh gods. I can't – believe – it!" Both adults went to him to give their support.
Dumbledore gathered the stick-thin boy in his arms and held him as he wept the burning tears of regret and the soothing tears of healing.
"Thank you, Father," Severus whispered in his ear.
The weeks passed, and January dragged its uneasy way into February. St. Mungo's admitted more than its usual share of suicidal wizarding children, depressed as they were by these two grimmest months of the calendar.
The obliviation of Severus' worst memories took the edge off his anxiety. He no longer seemed as interested in suicide. In fact, he even told Asphora LaChance about two prior attempts. For all intents and purposes, both had gone unnoticed by the adults who were supposed to be looking out for him, and had reinforced young Severus Snape's conclusion that he had been unworthy of their attention.
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One had occurred after a particularly humiliating pummeling by the Marauders during the boy's first year. They had ambushed Snape beneath the covered bridge where he had been collecting plant specimens for his potions work, presumably in retaliation for Sev's conjuring a blast-ended skrewt in Pettigrew's underwear, socks, and hankies drawer.
Potter had hexed Sev's wand right out of his sleeve before he'd turned halfway round. Pettigrew had held his arms pinned behind him while Sirius Black had thrown punch after punch. Severus had never enjoyed robust physical health, and Black both outweighed him and stood a good half-foot taller.
After he had grown tired of pummeling the Slytherin, Black had pushed him down and had yanked off his shoes and his trousers. Laughing, Sirius had thrown them into the river, where they were soon lost to sight. Severus had cried because they were his only pairs; this had led to another round of poking and prodding and calling him Snivelly.
After they had wearied of tormenting him, Severus had sat shivering and bruised on the riverbank looking at the sparkling cold water. Great waves of shame and self-loathing rippled through his being as he sat and shivered, knowing he could not return to the school looking the way he did. Finally, he had put out his arms and had tumbled into the water (for Severus had never been taught to swim), hoping that the current would drag him under and make short work of him.
The worst the river did was tumble him against numerous rocks and fill his nose and mouth with water. He hadn't even lost consciousness by the time it had rushed past a bend where the river meandered, depositing him on the soft bank cushioned by mud and last year's leaves. He had lain there crying, blaming himself for yet another failure.
His weeping had drawn the attention of Rubeus Hagrid, who had been out hunting ferrets. Sev had explained that he had fallen in while trying to catch a frog. He glossed past the fact that he had no trousers or shoes and the tenderhearted gamekeeper hadn't question him about it, sensing that the Marauders had been involved and the boy's pride had been at stake.
Hagrid had first taken the drenched boy to his hut, where he had wrapped him in an old horse blanket, and then had solemnly carried him to the Hospital wing. Thankfully for the child's pride, Hagrid had taken a path few students knew and he had not been seen.
Nurse Pomfrey had treated his cuts and bruises, assuming that they came from the buffeting by the current and not by a classmate. The nurse had also spoken to Professor Gallo Penderdandis, who had bought Severus new shoes and trousers out of the Slytherin House General Fund. Fearing that the boy had been molested, Dumbledore had questioned him further about the incident but Sev had been too ashamed to tell him the truth.
The second attempt had taken place after the Spring holiday. His father had beaten him again and Severus had returned to Hogwarts battered and shaky. His equilibrium was out of kilter so that he kept stumbling over his own feet. Of course, the topic of Snivelly's old man "giving him a smack- around" became the focus of the Marauders' attention. Determined to keep going in spite of it, Sev had kept enough hair in his face so no one could see his blackened eyes and bruised cheek.
The trouble had all started in Professor Daragon's Divination class. Tiring of looking at a wall of black hair sitting on the front row, Daragon had asked Severus to kindly get that mop out of his face. The Marauders had all tittered when Severus had refused. Daragon had asked again, and Severus had refused again. With that, the professor had used his wand to first raise Snape's chin and then to blow the hair away from his face. The professor had seen, and Severus had ducked his head in shame.
Black had said, "Looks like his old man's been at him again," and had laughed along with the other Marauders.
The professor had then apologized and had asked Sev if he wanted to go to the Hospital Wing. Instead of answering, the Slytherin boy had gotten up and strode out of the room. Since class was about to let out, there had been no point in anyone going after him.
Severus had hidden himself in a remote tower, determined to calm himself down. Unfortunately, he had been observed going there by Potter several days beforehand, and his secret hiding place was no longer secret.
The Marauders had pummeled on the door while Severus had cowered inside. Pettigrew had shouted that creepy greasy gits like Severus were better off dead; Potter had chimed in that Severus must be tired of stopping clocks and shattering mirrors with his looks; Black had told him that if he died, not a single person on campus would mourn him.
They had kept on and on and they would not leave. Severus had been trapped, something he greatly feared from many bad experiences at home.
Finally, Snape had opened the leaded glass window and had crawled out onto the sill. The cold wind had cut right through his threadbare robe and he huddled against it, wanting to jump and not wanting to. Sick with shame and dread, he had crouched there for half an hour or so, watching the students passing by below him and wondering what they would do if he jumped. Indecision had stayed his hand, and after a while the Marauders left. Unfortunately, once outside Moony had looked up and had seen Severus; this had caused him to hail a nearby teacher who stood by to slow the boy's fall if he did jump.
Well, there really was no point in jumping unless you knew you would succeed. Upon instructions from the teacher, Argus Filch had crept into the room, grabbing Severus from behind and dragging him away from the window. Sev had screamed and struggled, finally using a Dark hex on the man (who was and would always remain a squib) to gain his liberty. It was no good; two Seventh-Year Slytherin prefects had been waiting to grab him as he tried to run down the circular staircase.
Of course, he had been taken once again to the damnable Hospital Wing. Pomfrey had clucked and fretted over the boy's injuries, knowing without asking where they had come from. He had told her he was only looking at the carvings outside the window and there was no need to bother telling anyone about it, especially his father. Pomfrey had notified Dumbledore and both had written yet another report to the Ministry of Magic's Child Protection Bureau, destined like its predecessors to sit in some bureaucrat's file unread and forgotten.
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Severus had also told these stories to his Headmaster with his head down and his voice choked with shameful tears. Dumbledore had apologized to him, telling him that he hadn't known Sev had lived in such fear and asking his forgiveness. Needless to say, it had taken Severus quite a long time to settle down; the very thought of Albus Dumbledore apologizing to him was huge. He hadn't thought he was worth it.
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It seemed as if little had changed in the troubled boy's life as time passed in St. Mungo's. He still found the prospect of life outside its walls daunting. Still, he felt better than he had in a long while. His broken knee finally healed, pushing that ill-fated Yuletide Quidditch game at Potter's a bit further from his mind. He had talked to Asphora about the incident, berating himself for his misplaced trust. Asphora had said that he had done nothing wrong and that it was natural for people to want friends. Severus hadn't known that, since neither his father nor his mother seemed to have any.
The prospect of a halfway-safe Hogwarts as promised by his mentor did appeal to the Slytherin. All three of his healers/counselors worked hard to bring some closure to the boy's life with his father, but this was especially difficult with the hearing on the Elder Snape's early release drawing near.
Albus Dumbledore remained the constant in Severus' life. He visited the child every day, and the love and comfort he gave to him was worth a hundred years with counselors. Asphora LaChance knew that a gradual transition away from reliance on Dumbledore would be necessary for Sev's independence and self-reliance, but now was not that time. In fact, the young woman learned a great deal from watching them together and keying on what the Headmaster did to bolster the boy's self-esteem and downcast spirits.
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Night after night, and only after Severus had been safely tucked in bed, the healer and the Headmaster met and planned. The hearing was approaching, and they prepared to do their part in ensuring that the Dark wizard never tasted freedom again.
They also took the shivering gentleman in the wheelchair into their confidence. It appeared that Snape Senior had hit the man with the Cruciatus only a week before the former's incarceration. It now appeared that the man's nervous system had been permanently damaged and that he would most likely spend a lot of time in this institution. However, he was energized and cheered at the prospect of seeing the man responsible for his condition punished for what he had done to him.
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And at last – the day of the hearing had arrived.
The circular room had been sparsely filled. It seemed that the travails of a middle-aged and not-so-powerful Dark wizard hadn't attracted much interest. Dumbledore saw with clear and wise eyes, however, and was quick to pick out the adherents of Tom Riddle – now known as Lord Voldemort -- in the room. Some were even disguised as courtroom workers. They could fool most, but they couldn't fool the greatest White wizard in the world. "Professor Sartoris daren't show his face," the Headmaster thought. "Not if he values his own skin and his job. Watcher indeed! I'll be the one watching him."
The hearing judge came out of a side door, ascended the bench, and sat down. Albus knew Judge Petri to be an unremarkable but honest man. The two old sages nodded to one another in recognition. Asphora had been too busy sampling all the dark auras around the room to notice. Like Dumbledore, she had mentally separated friend from foe.
And then – there he was.
Confutatis Maledictis Snape.
His name meant, "to confound the wicked ones". Were his parents joking, perhaps, to give such a name to someone with such a sour and foul visage? Black hair, hawk nose, and thin build. Unfortunate. Severus would have done better to resemble his mother.
The Elder Snape swept the room with his flinty eyes, and the healer actually felt the evil in the man crawl all over her. She visibly shuddered, using her energy to push it back in the direction from which it came.
Dumbledore? What was that old fool doing here? Maledictis Snape remembered their last meeting. The Headmaster had been going on and on about his "abusing" his useless whelp of a son. Nonsense! A bunch of weak-willed twaddle! Coddling a child would not make him into a suitable acolyte for the Dark Lord. It certainly would not.
The Elder Snape tried to catch the man's eye to stare him down, but the clear blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore did not rest upon his wicked face for a single moment.
"This hearing is now called to order," the bailiff announced. A hush fell over the room. "The motion on behalf of Mr. C.M. Snape petitioning for early release from Azkaban Prison will now be heard. All those who wish to give testimony on this matter, approach and ye will be heard."
Judge Petri looked up and scanned the room. "Petitioner has served the minimum sentence allowed by the Dark Wizard Paraphernalia Sanctions Act of 1969 and seeks release on account of good behavior. Is there anyone who will speak for the Petitioner?"
A tall, thin gentleman with long white hair rose. "Avaris Malfoy, Your Honor," he said.
"Please approach."
The man had an impressive mien. He strode confidently to the Bench, polished black heels clicking on the floor. Asphora noticed his snake- headed cane.
"Dark, very dark," she whispered to Dumbledore.
He nodded.
The bailiff administered the oath. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips," Malfoy swore. "I have known the Petitioner since boyhood, and can vouch for him as a wizard and a citizen. He will return to his family, who has awaited his return with great anticipation. No constructive purpose will be served in keeping him in Azkaban."
"With great anticipation my – "the healer sputtered angrily. "That bastard."
"Watch and listen," Dumbledore whispered.
"Any questions for this gentleman?" Judge Petri said, looking around the room. "There being none, you are excused. Thank you, sir."
"Are you ready?" Dumbledore said. "Release your anger, for it will not help you here."
"Absolutely."
The hearing judge surveyed the room. "Anyone else? Very well. Is there anyone to speak against the Petitioner?"
Dumbledore and LaChance stood as one.
"We will speak against the granting of the Petition. May we approach?" the Headmaster asked in a ringing voice.
Snape curled his lip. He knew the one, but who was the other? A ridiculous witch with a ridiculous hairdo! Asphora held two parchments in her left hand. What in the name of Seven Hells did she want with him?
Dumbledore approached the bench. "For the record, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Once again, the bailiff stepped forward. "Kindly repeat after me. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"So noted," the judge said, nodding to the scrivener who busily scratched away with quill and parchment.
"I am Asphora LaChance, Healer, St. Mungo's Hospital. I am also an employee of the Child Protection Services Bureau. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"So noted. What is your objection?"
"We have many," Albus said.
Both Malfoy and Snape Senior straightened.
Raising his eyebrows, Judge Petri waved his hand in an outward gesture. "Kindly enlighten us, Professor Dumbledore."
The old wizard stood proud, waves of White light radiating from his being. "This is a man who has abused his wife for years, and his son since babyhood." He nodded to the healer.
"I wish to offer this parchment into evidence as an official St. Mungo's Hospital record detailing the first known instance of abuse," Healer LaChance said, solemnly handing it to the bailiff. "He fractured his baby's skull. Upon information and belief, the Petitioner had seized the infant and hurled him to the floor because he cried too much."
The bailiff brought the parchment to the judge, who spent a few moments reading in silence. "I believe I would have cried a good deal myself," he remarked. Snape Senior and Avaris Malfoy grimaced.
Asphora continued. "This same child – now sixteen years of age – is currently committed to St. Mungo's following a suicide attempt brought about by years of abuse at the hands of the Petitioner. He does not appear before you today because he is still too ill to be taken from the facility."
Snape Senior growled. That sickly, puling, self-pitying whelp! When he got hold of him again, he would make the prospect of suicide look like a blessing from Heaven.
"The second parchment you hold, Your Honor, is an official Hospital record detailing the boy's obliviated memories. As you know, this procedure is used only in the most extreme cases. I believe the document speaks for itself."
"I object," Snape said. "I have no idea if that document is a false one, dreamed up between those two at the behest of my son."
The Petitioner has not been sworn," the judge said. "Bailiff?"
"Kindly repeat after me. By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
Snape sneered. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
"So noted," Petri remarked to the scrivener. The Judge then laid the parchments before him, then tapped each with his wand. "Reveal your secrets," he murmured. A faint shimmer appeared above them, a ghostly watermark of St. Mungo's Hospital was displayed on each.
"They are genuine," Judge Petri intoned. "Objection denied."
The room was silent during the minutes it took for the Judge to read the second document. He lifted his head, and his eye pierced the form of Confutatis Maledictis Snape. "I will have Aurors gather further information relating to your abuse of your son. You may well have some more jail time in your future, Mr. Snape."
"We have yet another reason to petition against release in this matter," Dumbledore said. Lord Malfoy darted an uneasy glance at Snape, a sneer not unlike his son's appearing on his handsome face. "What is this farce?" he hissed.
"Proceed," Petri said.
From the other side of the round room, a door opened and a man in a wheelchair appeared, pushed by Sibelius Hammer. The healer brought his charge close to the bench, where Petri could see the man's constant twitching and trembling. Dumbledore stood next to him.
"This man is Alonzo Tippett, who suffers permanent neurological damage due to the repeated application of the Cruciatus curse."
"Bailiff? Kindly administer the oath."
"If you would, sir," the bailiff said. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
Determination and pride emanated from the sick wizard. "By the Mother and Father of All, may the truth alone leave my lips."
The judge nodded at the man. "Proceed, Mr. Tippett."
"I was out in my back fields looking for my dog," the man stated, his voice as tremulous as his limbs. "when I came upon the light from a bonfire. Thinking it was naturally caused, I ran toward it. What I saw was a group of people wearing masks, standing before the fire. I believe there was – " the man halted, overcome by emotion – "– there was the remains of a human being tied to a stake in the middle of it."
The man stopped to gather his thoughts and get his emotions under control. "They heard me. One of them froze me with his wand. Another came rushing toward me, but slipped on the wet grass and fell to his knee. His mask slipped, and I got a good view of his face."
"This is ridiculous," Snape interjected.
"No sir," Tippett said. "No, it is not. The light from the bonfire gave me a clear view, Your Honor. And then – I heard the word "Crucio!" from his lips and – well, my life was forever changed." The man dropped his head, tears streaming down his face.
"Mr. Tippett," Judge Petri said. "Do you see this individual here today?"
The man – still quaking in his chair – lifted his face and gazed into the judge's eyes. "I do. It is the man who said my testimony was ridiculous. Sib, move this chair around, do!"
With half a swivel, Alonzo Tippett met the furious beetle-black eyes of Confutatis Maledictis Snape. His finger pierced the way to the man's black heart. "There. This is the man who cursed me. That man there! I will see his ugly Dark face until the day I die!"
A buzz arose amidst the assembled observers. Asphora LaChance watched Snape's aura darken from deep purple to pitch black.
Judge Petri looked around and then into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore, still standing by the man in the wheelchair. "It is my decision not to release Mr. C.M. Snape from custody, but to bind him over pending investigation and possible charges on child cruelty, two counts of attempted murder, and for using an Unforgivable. As you realize, Petitioner, conviction on the latter charge is punishable by the Dementor's Kiss."
"Lies! All lies and falsehood! Dumbledore has influenced my son's feeble mind and weak will."
"Speaking of lies and falsehoods, Mr. Snape," Judge Petri added, "We shall also look into additional charges for perjury. So ordered." He slammed down his gavel and rose. "This hearing is adjourned."
Dumbledore looked around for Lord Malfoy, and was not surprised to see that the man had already left.
"You fiend from Hell," Alonzo Tippett wept, still pointing at Snape. "You fiend from the Pit. I will live long enough to see your soul snatched, mark my words!"
Asphora LaChance's righteous anger was up. Without hesitation, she also addressed the Elder Snape. "As will I," she hissed. "I will see you suffer as you made your innocent child suffer. And may the Furies haunt you in the afterlife." Her own aura boiled and glowed with tinges of fiery red.
"Asphora," said Dumbledore. "Come along. We have good news to deliver to Severus."
"And you, you crackbrained old donkey!" Snape shrieked. "Taken over my son's mind, have you? You're welcome to the mollycoddled little whelp! He'll never amount to anything!"
"But he will, Mr. Snape," Albus calmly replied. "He will indeed. Even your evil couldn't break his strong spirit. I will give him your regards." Before he turned to leave, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry gave a little nod toward the Dark wizard.
Two horns blossomed from the top of the man's head.
-----------------
Both witch and wizard apparated back to St. Mungo's, looking for and finally finding Severus working on a puzzle in the common room.
"We have a surprise for you, honey," Asphora said.
Sev stood up, his face sober. He wasn't used to surprises. Not nice ones, anyway. "What – is it?"
"You might be interested in knowing that we both saw your father today," Albus Dumbledore said.
Sev's face fell. His eyes widened, and his shoulders hunched with anxiety. "He's – out --? Is that where I'm going since you couldn't find my mother?" Severus cursed himself under his breath for being so terrified. Hadn't his time in the hospital helped with that?
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart," said Asphora LaChance. "Today was the hearing on whether he should be released for time served. I do believe that he will end up getting kissed by something rather unpleasant instead."
"What?" shrieked Severus.
Dumbledore smiled. "His release was denied and he will face charges for child abuse, perjury, two counts of attempted murder, and for casting an Unforgivable. In other words, my dear boy, you need no longer live under his fearful shadow."
Severus slapped his hands over his face and bent over, overwhelmed. "Oh gods," the boy gasped. "Oh gods. I can't – believe – it!" Both adults went to him to give their support.
Dumbledore gathered the stick-thin boy in his arms and held him as he wept the burning tears of regret and the soothing tears of healing.
"Thank you, Father," Severus whispered in his ear.