Chapter 20: Given the Choice
Harry heard Ron muttering to himself.
"He meant well. He only wanted to help."
Yes, of course Dumbledore had meant well, he always did and he always wanted to help. The only problem with that was that he never actually cared if the person concerned wanted that help. Harry himself had received "help" on more than one occasion and would have been happier without it a couple of times. Thinking back he still wondered if Dumbledore had counted on him to find his way into the school's vault in his first year, if it had been his plan from the beginning that Harry should defend the Philosopher's Stone. It had, in fact, helped Harry to grow up, to strengthen his bond with his friends, to realize his own potential and to earn the respect of many students. On the other hand, it could have killed him just as easily.
Inside the bubble Albus Dumbledore was very close to something that could only be described as throwing a tantrum. He was pacing through his office, gesturing agitatedly and shouting in turns at the two people standing in front of his chaotic desk. One of them was Minerva McGonagall, facing the wall behind the desk with a firm look, hands clasped behind her back. The other one was an extremely smug looking Severus Snape. The boy was trying, rather half-heartedly, to suppress a smile.
"How could you, Minerva?! And behind my back! I thought we had agreed that keeping him here would be the best solution."
McGonagall's voice was calm and her gaze never left the wall.
"No Albus, we didn't agree on that, you decided. And I didn't do anything behind your back. The letter arrived while you were absent, I took care of the matter as Deputy Headmistress and I informed you immediately after your arrival."
The old wizard stopped in front of her and gave her a menacing stare which she chose to ignore completely. The corners of Snape's mouth twitched ever so slightly.
"But now it's too late, Minerva!"
He shouted it directly into her face, causing her glasses to steam-up.
"You wrote back that 'we should talk about this proposal and decide what is best for the boy'. You should just have turned him down. How can I object to his offer now?"
Finally she looked at him.
"You can't. And you shouldn't. Sending him there would indeed be the best for him and he would be as safe there as he is here. Now, do you want to stand here and shout at me a little longer or shall I ask Lord Malfoy in?"
Dumbledore stared at her a moment longer, presumably questioning his decision to ever make her his right hand. Then he walked over towards his desk, setting his robes in order, running shaky fingers through his long beard and muttering under his breath.
McGonagall took a deep breath, gave an encouraging look to the silent Slytherin at her side and strode off. Snape regarded the headmaster for a while, his head cocked to the side. A strand of dark hair fell into his eyes. He didn't bother to swipe it away.
"Why do you want to keep me here? I'll only be in everybody's way, wandering to places that the teacher's are used to having for themselves during the holidays. And you will be gone half of the time."
The headmaster shuffled a few papers around on his desk.
"Frankly I always had the impression that you enjoyed the company of people older than you are and that you would spend every free minute in the library or the dungeons, if we only let you. Why would it be so terrible to stay here?"
The boy smiled.
"I asked you first."
The old wizard stopped his indistinct cleaning attempt and returned the smile, however with some effort.
"Mr. Snape, I believe you to have a gift, intellectually as well as magically, and I know there are many people out there who would only be to willing to exploit this gift. Here we could help you to grow in a free yet protected environment."
Snape looked thoughtful, considered his teacher's words for a moment and then nodded.
"I do enjoy the company of those senior to me", he now answered the headmaster's question, "but I believe this to be true, because I never had any other choice before I came to Hogwarts. Given the choice", he made an eloquent pause here, "I would prefer to spend my holidays with the people that I have come to know as friends over the last years."
Now it was the headmaster's turn to nod.
He is lying, Harry thought. Dumbledore is lying. The only reason he wanted to keep Snape at Hogwarts was to quench his own bad conscience.
There was a string of memories now that showed Snape in different locations, surrounded by different people. The only clearly visible red line was the constant presence of Lucius Malfoy and a very relaxed smile on the dark haired Slytherin's face. He even seemed to gain a little colour in the course of events.
Pictures of trips, in the wizarding as well as the muggle world, raced by, glimpses of assemblies in rather elegant yet somewhat murky surroundings, impressions of parties. Harry was sure he had caught a glimpse of a wedding ceremony and seen Narcissa Black in long white robes.
Things slowed down and finally came to a halt in a large library. House elves were scattering around, serving drinks and entrées. Elegantly dressed people lined the bookshelves like decorative statues, only they seemed to be engaged in intense discussions. Snape was sprawled in a comfortable looking armchair, pretending to read a book entitled "Defensive Spells - The Erroneous Condemnation of a Misapprehended Art" while actually scowling towards Lucius Malfoy and his obviously newly wedded wife Narcissa. They were leaning in a dusky corner, cooing silly pet names at each other and fiddling with the shiny golden rings on the fingers of their left hands.
The sound of heavy boots on the wooden panelled floor jerked everyone out of their various occupations. Seconds later an impressive figure entered the library and moved with sure strides over to Lord and Lady Malfoy who both bowed their heads to him.
Snape had put the book to the side, careful to mark the page he had been pretending to read, and joined the others in a part of the room overlooked by a large window. Just now the heavy green curtains were being drawn and people started to take their seats on richly cushioned and decorated chairs. There were not enough chairs for everyone, so the younger ones took their seemingly customary places in the back of the assembly.
Harry tried his best to focus on anything else in the room but the voice booming out of the bubble. This voice had haunted him in his dreams, shook him to the core and seemed to take hold of a part of his soul even now. Listening to the insane proclamations of pure-blooded superiority, muggle inferiority and a debt that needed to be repaid was bad enough as it was. The tantalizing voice only made it harder to ignore.
Hermione, sitting by his side lost in thought, a strand of hopelessly tangled hair around her right index finger, was staring at the scene open mouthed. A frown had crept between her slightly bushy eyebrows and obviously felt comfortable there.
The other members of the Order seemed to suffer from the same mix of revulsion and fascination, for no one except Harry appeared to be able to avert their eyes. Even Lupin looked captivated, muttering comments under his breath to Tonks who shook her head vigorously, yet without taking her eyes from the speaker.
When the address was over there was a lot of applause, coming the loudest from the back rows where Lucius Malfoy held court with his usual troop. Snape was leaning against one of the polished bookshelves, clapping his hands politely, yet without enthusiasm.
Gracefully Voldemort walked over to the group of young people and the crowd parted before him like an obedient sea. The bowed heads seemed to please him and an enigmatic smile spread across his somehow ageless face.
"Young Lord and Lady Malfoy, I see. Congratulations, both of you, and please accept my apology for not being able to attend the wedding. I was engaged elsewhere on important matters. I'm sure you understood."
"Of course we did, my Lord", Narcissa stuttered and blushed prettily. Lucius beamed at her.
"Lucius", Voldemort directed his attention on the young blond man. "Would you come and see me later in your father's office? I have some interesting developments to discuss with you."
Lucius flushed as fiercely as Narcissa had done only seconds before.
"It would be an honour, my Lord."
Voldemort smiled a satisfied little smile and moved to the back of the group.
"Severus, walk with me."
He didn't even see the look of shock and sudden panic on the teenager's face as he paced towards a door that led out into the vast garden. Snape gulped and started following him on unsteady legs while his friends patted him on the back encouragingly. He caught up with the older man near a patch of yellow roses shimmering in the afternoon sun.
"Severus, where does your heart lie?"
Stunning blue eyes bore into deep dark ones, genuine interest shining from them.
"I … I'm not sure what you want to know, my Lord", Snape mumbled, hastily gazing away.
"What I mean, Severus," Voldemort continued while walking along the different patches of flowers, "is that I miss your passion during my speeches. When I reach out into the crowd I can feel their hearts rising up to me. I cannot feel yours."
Another curious glance met Snape's frightened face.
"Now, I know that I am a gifted speaker and am therefore sure that it's not my oratory performance that fails to light your fire. It has to be something else."
He stopped by a wrought-iron bench and invited the young wizard to sit with him. Carefully Snape placed himself at the opposite end of the bench, finally daring to look at the other man, yet still too confused to answer.
Voldemort sighed.
"Lord Malfoy told me about your family situation and I have taken the liberty to initiate some personal … investigations. I have had the pleasure of meeting your father and must say that I am rather impressed."
Panic raced across the young face as Snape tried to find an adequate response. He was spared from actually delivering it, however, for Voldemort continued:
"I am rather impressed with you for having survived this long at the mercy of a man as insane as your father. Don't get me wrong, Severus, he is definitely a genius, but he is also definitely mentally unstable."
He slid over to the younger man and rested a hand on his arm.
"Severus, your mother is dead. He killed her a couple of days after that old fool came to their house and meddled in affairs that were none of his business."
Snape stared into nothingness as tears clouded his vision. A huge sob seemed to rise inside his chest, but he didn't let it out. Voldemort didn't do or say anything for a while. His hand still rested on Snape's arm, calming down the trembling. When the dark-haired boy finally looked up at him, the older man's smile was gone. There was a determined look in his eyes as he asked:
"Do you want me to kill him for you? Or do you want me to teach you how to do it yourself?"