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Flashback 5 years

The previous day, Remus and Tonks had collected Harry from the Dursleys. He had only been there for two weeks since Sirius' death, but Dumbledore had finally relented and allowed him to escape after Hermione and Molly had pleaded and shown the headmaster the distressing letters the boy had sent them. Harry's grief was overwhelming and no one felt that leaving him with his disinterested muggle relatives was a good idea. Surprisingly, even Snape had mentioned "some events he had witnessed during occlumency lessons" which led him to agree, though when pressed he refused to reveal details.

"Severus, if you know something about those muggles, you should…" pressed Mrs Weasley earnestly.

"You are supposed to be his friends," he spat at the roomful of concerned faces, "If he has not seen fit to inform you of his miserable childhood, then I certainly do not have that right."

Remus had been stunned. Firstly, Severus was sticking up for his teenage nemesis and keeping his secrets. Secondly, Severus had seen things which made him categorise Harry's childhood as 'miserable'. His life with his relatives must have been truly horrific. Remus had been uncharacteristically firm and had brought him straight back to Grimmauld Place, this time without the boisterous Weasley crowd, and Harry was quietly grateful. He had been invited to the Burrow that evening for a "surprise" birthday party, but he had told Remus that right now he preferred the comfort of his godfather's house, where the two mourners were as content to discuss their memories of Sirius as they were to sit in silence.

Snape arrived with the wolfsbane potion at six, silently handing the goblet to Remus, who drank it down with the usual grimace. Snape then sat down next to Harry, who sat up in alarm and glared at him.

"Mr. Potter," he asked softly, lacing his fingers in front of him and fixing his gaze on them. "Who killed Sirius Black?"

The silence rang in Remus' ears, deafening. What the hell was Snape playing at? Harry's face contorted with anguish, then grief, then rage, then icy determination. After what seemed like an hour, he replied;

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Snape nodded firmly, and suddenly Remus understood.

"But," continued Harry, looking away, "Others contributed. I should not have acted so recklessly. Kreacher should not have betrayed us. Umbridge should not have sent Dumb… sorry, Professor Dumbledore away. Professor Dumbledore should not have treated me like a baby. I should not have looked into your pensieve and you should not have thrown me out of your office. The Ministry should not have attacked Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. And Sirius," he paused to swallow thickly, then continued, "Sirius should not have left this house. There were a lot of things, even more, which led up to it." Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. "Sirius' wrongful imprisonment made him a bit unstable, which was because of Wormtail faking his own death, because of my parents…" he tailed off. Snape nodded again, and added gently;

"You are correct. Things rarely happen due to a single deciding factor. Black's death was the result of an intricate chain of events stretching back more than twenty years. But analysing your explanation, all of these factors do lead back to one individual. One person is ultimately the cause of all this."

"Voldemort," whispered Harry.

The three wizards sat in silence for a few minutes. Something had passed between Severus and Harry, not acceptance or forgiveness, but a certain understanding, and Remus was relieved to feel it. He was also thrilled that the boy had not continued to blame himself, and had obviously been reflecting on this and drawn his own, mature conclusion. The werewolf felt a rush of almost paternal pride for his friend's son, and also a flicker of admiration for Snape's decision to ask the question.

The silence was suddenly disturbed by the ear-splitting wail of an alarm. 12 Grimmauld Place was heavily warded and someone or something must have attacked the headquarters' with hostile intent. They all started up, immediately drawing their wands. Men's voices sounded from the kitchen, then the unmistakable high pitched harpy cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Death Easters! Here!" gasped Remus.

"It's her," hissed Harry ferociously.

"Lupin, get him out of here!" urged Snape, pushing them towards the fireplace.

"No good, the floo's blocked. And there's an apparition block too. We can head for the back door!"

"It will be guarded," said Snape calmly, "Standard procedure. But the Order will have been alerted by the alarms, they should be arriving any…"

The sitting room door was blasted off its hinges, and the three wizards had no choice but to back into a corner, Remus and Severus pushing a struggling Harry behind them as the room quickly filled with masked Death Eaters. Bellatrix's grin could have lit the Great Hall as she fired a squibbing curse, instantly robbing them of their magic.

"How exciting!" she squealed in delight, "A dark beast, a traitor and the boy-who-lived! What's the date today, Dolph?"

"July the 31st," replied a gruff-voiced figure, "Why, love?"

"I fought it was Cwistmas!" she joked in her baby voice. "Delightful! How have you been, Sevvie-Wevvie? Have you missed us? The Dark Lord has been missing you, he'll be so pleased to see you again. Very rude, you know, not answering his calls. No wonder he's….upset with you!"

Shouting outside heralded the arrival of the order, and Remus tensed, ready for anything. Nothing happened.

"We have hostages," they heard Rodolphus Lestrange's voice in the corridor. "Come any closer and my wife will cruciate the lot of them. All night if need be. She has amazing stamina when cursing."

Harry was seething against the wall.

"Don't move," whispered Remus. "The others will get us out of this."

Bellatrix was ordering two huge Death Eaters to bind them. Snape fumbled in one of the pockets of his robe.

"What are you doing?" hissed Harry.

"An experiment I have been working on, I have yet to test it on human subjects." Remus and Harry exchanged a worried look, as Snape flung a tiny vial into the midst of the Death Eaters, shattering on impact with the floor.

A thin blue gas instantly filled the room. The robed figures started choking, then clutching at their left arms and screaming in agony. Through watering eyes Remus saw Snape doing the same and knelt down to try and help him. The Death Eaters were collapsing on the floor in convulsions as the Order streamed in, apparently unaffected by the fumes, but highly confused.

Two days later, when Severus had recovered enough to explain, everything became clear. He had developed a potion which reacted violently with the specialised dark magic present in the Dark Mark, but was harmless to anyone without it. Dumbledore was absolutely over the moon, as was Snape, who had not expected his little summer project to work so effectively. The fact that he had spent 48 hours in a coma did not seem to bother him, and he was as close to being happy as anyone could remember. Now only Voldemort and Pettigrew remained at large – the Ministry, the Order, and the wizarding world in general was delighted with Snape for striking such a great blow for the Light.

Snape was still recovering in the hospital wing when he received the best accolade of all. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were chatting quietly in the dispensary when they heard a maniacal giggling coming from their colleague's room. Fearing some kind of unpleasant side-effect, they rushed to his side to find him clutching a piece of parchment in one hand and cuddling the owl that delivered it to his chest with the other. The owl looked unimpressed.

"Severus, put the owl down, please," admonished Madam Pomfrey, deftly preparing a tranquilliser potion.

"What on earth is the matter?" asked Minerva gently. He grinned at her and brandished the letter. She took it and peered through her spectacles at the official calligraphy, then gasped.

"The Institute of Master Potioners are awarding you Gold Standard!"

Poppy dropped the vial she had been holding and gaped.

"That's wonderful news! There are only a handful of Gold Standards in the country! They are the best of the best!"

Snape started giggling again and squeezed the owl tightly. It shrieked, bit him as hard as it could and zoomed away in disgust.

"Five," he grinned up at the astonished witches, ignoring his bleeding thumb. "The top five potion masters in Britain."

Dumbledore strolled in a moment later, champagne in hand and bits of glitter in his hair from the impromptu party in the Great Hall, and was bemused to find all three of them giggling in delight. It was delightful to see all his children so happy. Now, he thought to himself, if we can just take out Riddle…

­End Flashback

A/N: Thanks to my lovely reviewers! You're all so generous! I know Snape is a bit OOC here, but he's just had a wonderful shock. Needless to say, the good times don't last long (I'm such a bitch).