21. An Untimely Death Discussed
Even after talking to Silva, Harry still was exasperated about receiving detentions by Snape and having to meet the Potions Professor tonight, although he was quite sure by now that what was in store for him would be lessons, not cleaning duties or suchlike. At the same time, Harry was proud that he finally had succeeded in apologising, that his words and thoughts had been accepted, as it seemed. He wanted to tell the Headmaster of his achievement, and be as early for it as possible.
Harry made his way to Dumbledore's office rather late. There would hardly be time for homework if both the Headmaster and Snape worked him like that in the future. Meeting Dumbledore was something to look forward to at least, even if there were more horrors to be told which he did not expect for today, at least – his after-dinner meeting with Snape, Harry looked forward to much less.
"Good afternoon, Harry. Lemon drop?"
Harry declined and flopped into a seat, not waiting to be permitted to do so.
Dumbledore heard him exhale with relief and smiled a little. Upon a wave of his wand, a tray with pumpkin juice and a variety of sweets in bowls appeared, and another with tea, muffins, scones, and some clotted cream. A range of jam gave off a most delightful smell.
Hovering both trays before him, Dumbledore motioned with his head for Harry to decide. Smiling back widely, Harry pointed at the tea tray. It sailed down and settled in the middle of the bureau, next to the Pensieve. The other tray vanished with a PLOP.
"That sure looks and smells great, sir," Harry stated.
The Headmaster poured him tea, still smiling, and said: "Today's meeting does not concern the subject of Professor Snape's past so much as that of another man."
Oh? Harry wondered to himself, lazily reclining in his comforter, waiting for things to happen. The old wizard shooed a filled cup into his direction which Harry took out of the air gingerly. Those cups might hold their contents whenever the Headmaster sent them flying, but as soon as one grappled for them, they tended to unbalance very easily.
Dumbledore looked Harry up and down in a ponderous manner, avoiding his eyes for any amount of time as usual.
The boy was in a good mood, if a bit tired by all appearances. The Headmaster hated to destroy that, but things had to be brought to a head. Silva Snape's report of their meetings had hinted at gnawing feelings of guilt in the boy, and a need to voice them soon. Dumbledore was quite sure what this was about. Also, since Harry and Severus were to pick up their lessons today, it would be necessary to go ahead. Postponing what he was to tell Harry tonight, until after he and the Potions master finally got down to work, might endanger both of them... Whatever was torturing the boy must be out in advance. Their meetings had been intended to effect release there after all, among other things.
Dumbledore did not like what he would have to do today any better for that.
"Not all has been said, Harry. What comes next will likely be painful to you, but you need to understand... There is something I have to tell you that, I am afraid, will greatly upset you if you have not guessed it yet, which I do not think you have. I do wish it was in my powers to leave this part of the story out, but it is crucial in more than one respect, and you have a right to know if you are supposed to understand.
"This is going to hurt, and I would not be amazed if it would alienate you and your Potions Professor further still. I am risking a lot in acquainting you with what I am going to tell you today and, by it, provoking your anger. I don't think Remus ever dared mention anything about that to you. But you have got to know what was really behind Severus Snape's temporal madness upon discovering Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack, and the real reason of Professor Snape's hate of your godfather, if there is to be any kind of co-operation between you and Severus in the future – if any good shall come from it. You might, Harry, by that proceed from your demands for a right to know to understand the burden of knowledge, and the duty to it, to bear it. Professor Snape, for one, surely could teach you there."
Harry cocked his head in surprise that the mentioning of his godfather. A mood of sinister expectation settled on him. He did not want to think or talk about Sirius, or worse, about his death! What was more, he did not like to hear Sirius's name mentioned in one sentence with that of Snape.
Harry decided to take the matter in his own hands, regardless of the dark implications he'd just heard. There was something he'd been wanting to know urgently for some time now. Before Dumbledore could continue with what he had set out to explain, Harry asked:
"Professor – when will the Ministry clear Sirius's name? He's fought very bravely..."
Dumbledore sighed. Young Potter was getting to the point already. This was another question he'd been afraid of having to answer. It could not be postponed forever; Harry would have asked eventually.
"Hm. Has his demise during the fight in the Ministry of Magic helped his reputation? Not at all, I am afraid. I had to keep quiet about his being there, and I think the captured Death Eaters did, too... They wouldn't want to face additional questioning by Aurors on a matter that they don't really know anything about…"
The boy sat dumbfounded, realisation dawned on him.
"WHAT!" Harry gasped, disbelieving.
The Headmaster sighed again.
"If ever someone mentions his being there, I will have to deny any knowledge of it, Harry! I'll have to say that I wasn't down in the Department of Mysteries, which is only half a lie; or even that I don't know how he got there, and we – all of us who know, of the Order – will have to say that he was not there – or even that he was with the Death Eaters..."
Harry yelled with rage: "THIS CAN'T BE TRUE!"
"Harry, my boy..."
"Don't call me that! You..."
Dumbledore interrupted Harry before he could insult him.
"Harry, I might have been reinstated in my old functions and status, but I am not now, and have never been, in any position with the Ministry to just go about and say 'Sirius Black has fought for us in the Dept. of mysteries, he was no Death Eater, never killed a Muggle, please will you rehabilitate him!' You KNOW that, too!
"You must be aware that that has been the situation all along since he escaped, for more than two years now, aren't you? His death, or Voldemort's return, have changed nothing about that – why should they? What is more, Sirius MUST NOT be connected with the Order until his good name is cleared. That is for two reasons: one, the reputation of the Order could severely be damaged if word got out that we hide escaped convicts that are wanted by the Ministry on their word, regardless of their innocence. It would mean that we withheld evidence. The other reason, more important still, is that this might provide clues as to the whereabouts of the Order headquarters itself if it became common knowledge.
If you, Harry, would insist on that part of your story about the fight in the Ministry, newspapers might also very soon be back to their stance of last year, regardless of the fact that you were right in all points and never lied to them."
"No…" Harry whispered. He looked thunderstruck. Understanding was settling on him, and the process was painful. This was worse than Snape's sneering at Sirius that he'd had to witness more than once at Grimmauld Place!
Dumbledore's heart ached for Harry, but he had braced himself.
"Even now that the Ministry of Magic has had to accept Lord Voldemort's return as a fact, my position with them is still weak, and they are trying to make it weaker. Nor will the news of Voldemort's still being alive help this particular matter, Harry. Furthermore, Fudge still is afraid of me.
"You are Sirius's main heir, Harry... He made his will before your parents died…"
"Do you think I care!" Harry blurted.
He'd wanted to scream that sentence, for lack of other words, but a huge lump seemed to block his throat. He swallowed.
No graveyard to go to and mourn his godfather, either...
Tears were running down Harry's cheeks. He thought he might never be able to stop crying again.
The Headmaster sighed. This was bad news, and Harry was taking it hard. What the boy's reaction would be to the other things he would hear tonight, Dumbledore dared not hazard. No child deserved this! He had wanted to spare Harry – and that had not worked out before, but only led to the boy putting himself into the line of spell casting. The old wizard could only hope that Harry's innate strength would stand up to it all.
Dumbledore continued, a bit wearily. Going on was all there was to do. Harry must know the worst, and now, too.
"Let us go back to our story." He lifted a wrinkly, slender hand imperatively, and Harry stopped before he could speak.
"Consider that there very likely have been other incidents like the one you witnessed in Professor Snape's Pensieve without his permission. That occasion where your father saved Severus's life at the Shrieking Shack only cemented his hate. While Severus always retaliated as good as he got, I think he never got over that one... Being saved by the person he hated most… See, young man, you might know that for yourself: sometimes the reasons for it all vanish, but the grudge remains, an ingrained gesture like phantom pain in a limb that's long gone..."
The Headmaster could feel Harry's dislike of the subject, but the boy did not object. Taking advantage of the fact that Harry, while suddenly attentive, did not speak up, Dumbledore said:
"What I have to tell you today, Harry, is likely to be the hardest bit of it all for you, and I want to assure you that I'll be around whenever you need me – allow for an hour to set the wards...
"I am hoping that, eventually, what I am going to tell you will help you to reconcile with the past, to forgive mistakes made and wrongs done – whether they were unavoidable in the course of events or not."
"Your own, even… so that, one day soon, no wards will be needed anymore between me and you."
Listening anxiously and with a sense of foreboding, Harry swallowed nervously. He wanted to say that he didn't' care a bit what Snape's feelings were, but he needed to know more about Sirius.
Dumbledore inhaled deeply. It seemed he could not get down to it. The pain of many losses, the many mistakes that had been made... He was not going to repeat those that he'd made in handling Tom Riddle at school with young Potter, but try and take his time, though...
He admitted that the comparison was not fair on Harry – Riddle had been twisted and thwarted already at an age that had seen Harry utterly innocent, and quite undamaged regardless of the treatment or, rather, neglect received by his relatives. And yet, Dumbledore knew he had missed out on some chances to set things right...
Never mind that. Today was today, and the boy before him probably the only person that could stop the most evil wizard to threaten the world in three generations at least.
"So, Harry, it'll probably be easiest for you to go back in time in your mind and try to remember as fully as possible the events in the Howling Hut in your third year which led to the discovery that Peter Pettigrew was still alive, and in Lord Voldemort's service.
"Do you think you can do that?"
How could Harry ever forget that night? He still sometimes dreamt of the events – which was a relief compared to the dreams about Cedric and...
Harry, while recollecting the sequence of events, nodded.
"I should think you'd be able to. Allow me to put it in words, though. When Professor Snape followed you lot and found Sirius Black in the Howling Hut, he was oblivious to the fact that Wormtail as well, whom no-one had ever known to be any good at anything, could be the Death Eater in question. He did not know that Peter Pettigrew was there, or even alive. Mind you, Harry, neither did I at that point, nor Remus Lupin, nor any other wizard, except Voldemort, of course – only Black knew. We all believed Pettigrew to be dead. Lupin still trusted Black implicitly when they met, being the great friend he is – otherwise they might have duelled in their human forms, too... You yourselves were only just about to learn of the true identity of Ron's pet rat.
"Remember: there had been a finger of Peter Pettigrew as a proof of his demise, and he had vanished together with the other fatalities of the explosion. Why should Severus Snape believe anything else but what was reported and what most everybody believed? One must see that he, from his point of view, had personal reasons to believe this story…"
"Prejudices!" interjected Harry angrily. What was this about? He didn't care a dank mite about the Potions master's point of view of the events!
Dumbledore raised a hand again to stop him.
"While Professor Snape knew what Lupin was and is early on, and assisted him in remaining inconspicuous, I might add, he had no proof of his friends being Animagi until that very day. You saw that, too. Severus did get the clue fast enough in Sirius Black's case when Sirius turned up here after his escape – as if he could smell the man for his old hatred of him. However, I understand Professor Snape was knocked out before Pettigrew was forced to reveal himself in his human shape, and missed most of the revelations Sirius had to make, right?"
Harry nodded. "He would not listen, so…"
The Headmaster interrupted him once more.
"He could not possibly know what you knew when he came to, given he had been willing to believe it, and took advantage of the general distraction. What is more, Severus Snape only came to after Professor Lupin's fateful change and Peter Pettigrew's flight. He found you together with Black, unconscious, at the side of the lake and bound you, to hand you over to the Ministry, rather than the Dementors, but summarily. I am positive of that, even if he said otherwise – he wanted to frighten you.
"There might have been some calculation in that: reaping the fame of catching Sirius Black to ingratiate himself with Fudge who'd by then come to dislike you three greatly for your interference and siding with me. I am sure he never intended any of you to be kissed, before that, in any case. However..."
Dumbledore looked at Harry, who seemed to be angry and confused, not knowing really what to say or where to start, and unable to quite gather what the Headmaster was driving at.
The Headmaster sighed. This was going to be bad.
"Can you still not see what this is getting at, now, Harry?"
Harry just looked at him, slowly shaking his head. Dumbledore could see anticipation build in the boy.
"Just try to remember that your godfather shook hands with Severus in the hospital wing after the Triwizard Tournament, then…"
The Headmaster sighed deeply. This was going to really hurt.
"Remember what I told you about Idane G.'s death?"
"Her murder," Harry affirmed, and Dumbledore could see that the boy disliked the recollection.
The old wizard inhaled deeply. He'd have to be completely straightforward...
"Severus Snape did not suspect Black right away, after partaking of Idane's memories. Only quite some time later, years later, in fact, upon hearing that Black was suspected of the killing of twelve Muggles and Pettigrew for Voldemort, he put what seemed to him to be the facts together.
"See, Harry, Professor Snape then was sure that Sirius had done to Idane what in truth Crouch jr. had done to her. Hence, Black must be a Death Eater secretly, and have been so for a long time – we all did believe as much at that point, even I – what with you parents dead and their alleged secret-keeper on the run. His family has a long history with the Dark Arts, longer than that even of the Snapes…"
The bleak words did not seem to register with the boy. To Dumbledore, this felt like facing some indestructible enchantment that might blow up in one's face at any moment… There was no holding back now, though. The old wizard sighed still again. Old mistakes tended to home in twentyfold…
Deciding to repeat what he'd merely inferred more clearly now, he said: "I shall spell things out for you. What this comes down to, Harry, is that to your Professor, when the news came of Sirius's arrest for the killing of Peter Pettigrew and the Muggles after your parent's murder, it was plain that the hooded figure who tortured and killed his beloved and their child must have been Sirius Black, his old enemy, shrewd enough to hide his countenance from Idane who would have recognised him. Severus Snape believed the hooded figure to have been Sirius Black, your Godfather, who'd reconciled with his cousin, and become a Death Eater secretly, a spy on the Order for Lord Voldemort..."
Harry stared at the headmaster, apparently unable to process what he was being told. Dumbledore went on, repeating himself.
"To Severus Snape, from then on, this was fact. It had been Sirius Black who had viciously tortured Idane to death, participating in that cruel murder because he hated Severus enough to grasp every opportunity to mess things up for him – even though Professor Snape never knew Sirius to be a Death Eater. He assumed him to have been under cover. This belief ingrained itself deeply into him, built mainly on his school time hate, and regardless of the lack of proof. It was the one thing, too, that would have blown his cover, if his assumption was right: if he ever proclaimed his feelings about Black in that context before the Dark Lord. Not to vent this hate but for other the known reasons cost him a lost, but luckily, he didn't..."
Harry, who had been staring at the Headmaster wide-eyed, now gasped for air, but Dumbledore ignored this.
"What happened in the Howling Hut did not change Severus's belief in Blacks involvement in the torture and killing of Idane at first; that riddle was only solved much later when Crouch jr. was discovered. I extracted the truth about Idane's murder from the impostor before he was taken away by the Ministry of Magic to receive the Kiss, confirming my own rather new suspicions. I wanted proof, for Severus's sake. What with Fudge acting so hurriedly, there is no chance to prove it now…Not that it matters anymore."
Dumbledore fell silent, expecting the outburst that had to come anytime now, and fortifying himself.
Harry had been fiercely defensive of his godfather, particularly since his demise, partly because of his own feelings of guilt, but also because he knew by now that Sirius was not flawless either, no matter how much he had liked him, and in part because he missed him so badly. They just had to live through this.
Harry sat speechless, apparently dumbstruck. He then rose, and screamed: "A-WHAT! IT DOES NOT MATTER! ARE YOU-- Is he mad? Is that stupid, treacherous bastard insane? He's a murderer himself! How dare Snape, of all people, accuse my godfather...? He rejoiced TO SEE SIRIUS IMPRISONED… He wanted to turn him over to the dementors, I KNOW HE DID! that git - He's THE DEATH EATER! he'S not worthY to kiss SIRIUs's feet! This is not true! You old, lying…"
The Headmaster's raised hand stopped Harry. "Ssshhh! Harry! Now, now... We KNOW now that Sirius did not betray your parents! I think you yourself believed as much and would not even let Sirius talk in the Howling Hut, remember? Severus had much more evidence than you did at the time that did point to Sirius as the perpetrator of a murder!
Between shouts and heart-broken whispers was only one breath.
"But... but I believed him... I knew right away he had not once… he… and Professor Lupin… It's not true anyway, and Snape has no right..."
"PROFESSOR Snape he is, Harry!"
The black-haired boy turned about in helpless rage, then slumped back into his seat and started to sob uncontrollably. Harry's godfather was dead – as if that was not bad enough! There was no chance for him to ever own up that he'd loved the man like a father, publicly, since Sirius was still not acquitted, and there was a good chance that he now would never be... He would never live with Sirius, the only person he'd ever really had who felt like family, like his own family, the only one he ever got owls from, and who'd known about his parents! All of which was that ugly, nosy git's fault! Had he just been killed by Sirius in the hut, right after he came in, or in his stead… elsewhere!
It was obvious that this would take time to digest, but the Headmaster was sure that Harry would come to realise eventually that nothing in the turn of events would have kept even a mind less biased by hate than Snape's from arriving at such a conclusion. It had been a distinct possibility.
"Listen! Ssshh! Harry! Try and calm down!"
Dumbledore sounded very soothing.
A red-and-white chequered handkerchief appeared out of nowhere, and Harry gratefully seized it. There was also some water on the table in a carafe, and a glass too, readily filled.
"I can't believe it... How he must have hated S... Sirius..."
The sobbing grew stronger again.
Dumbledore decided to continue while keeping an eye on the boy. He must not be permitted to break down from this, but he could not be spared this any longer either. He'd asked for it insistently, too. 'Beware of your wishes for they might come true', an old saying ran.
The Headmaster pushed on.
"Let us go back in time again, to the events after Idane's death. The story Snape told Voldemort when he was summoned after the murder consisted, I understand, mainly of the truth with some holes in it. He has not submitted most of what happened during that meeting to the Pensieve. I shall tell you what I have come to know of it, though."
Rolling his head from side to side on the back of his chair as if in shock, the boy murmured: "I don't want to know this, I don't care... All these lies..."
The Headmaster was not sure if Harry had heard him at all. He decided to ignore that possibility, and continued.
"I got to see this, though..."
Albus Dumbledore stirred the silvery surface of the Pensieve, picking up some lines. His eyelids drooped and his voice changed to Snape's after the first part. It was then devoid of any emotion, and cold.
"Prostrating himself before his master of that time, Snape said to Riddle: 'I told old Dumbledore a really tear-dripping and blood-soaked story about how it had crushed me to find my – well, mudblood-love, as my fellow servants like to term it, destroyed like that... It was a terrific shock to him! He surely is, in more than one way, a sentimental old coot... Did you know, my lord, that he desired that mudblood and wanted her for himself once?'"
The Headmaster opened his eyes again, and the eerily Snape-like, resounding voice reverted into Dumbledore's usual calm, friendly tone.
"He did leave that bit in the Pensieve for me to see. Professor Snape is a hard taskmaster, cruel even, and his lessons do hit home, not only with you young ones, believe you me, Harry! Yet, I trusted him when he came to me, offering himself to spy on Lord Voldemort, within the limits that I've tried to explain to you. I had to – even then, regardless. He's the only spy of that importance within Lord Voldemort's ranks the Order has, and his services are badly needed."
Harry was sobbing still, but had stopped moving in that maniacal, repetitive manner.
"Come now; quiet down, Harry, lean back and just listen to me."
Dumbledore felt he had some of the boy's attention again, at last.
"Severus Snape is not only rudely unkind occasionally and very brave in general, he is also the most coldly cunning man I ever met; he is someone who never has merely one goal in mind, and often more than two – there are always second intentions. He is also absolutely ruthless when following through with his aims, as you will have noticed.
"This – Idane's torture and death – is the only matter in which his resolve fails him entirely, where he feels to have utterly failed. I entreat you not to use it against him – you'd prove me wrong in trusting you and, by that, him right – in not doing so..."
Another handkerchief, this time pinkish with a frilly peach-coloured fringe for no obvious reason, floated toward Harry who sat utterly destroyed, vaguely wondering what any of this had got to do with him.
"Dry your tears and prove to us all that you've grown out of childish remorse, maybe even more so than your Potions Professor has yet being a grown man, and let Sirius's sacrifice not be in vain entirely! Allow me to follow my plan and tell you the story, all of it. I will not repeat this offer, or what I tell you now, again!"
The Headmaster sounded very grave when he put that forward. He surely would not undergo that ordeal once more – the old wizard was sure of that at least.
Wide-eyed, Harry assented, after a moment. He sniffed. The handkerchief was oddly comforting, and he held it to his cheek.
"I- I can't… I'll try, sir. Just don't expect me to be grateful right away, if ever, or happy with it, or to love ...Snape forever after!"
"I don't, Harry. Yet you might understand better now what let me hesitate in the first place to bring all this up, and tell you?"
Harry couldn't deny that he did.
"Have some food, Harry, some tea or some pumpkin juice…"
Harry refused at first, but the smell of fresh scones told him that he was ravenous, and eating surely would give him some time to compose himself. He idly wondered that the Headmaster had not offered him his usual lemon drops once again.
When Harry'd finished off the cake and tea, feeling a bit soothed after the shock, but suspecting that the realisation of what he'd just had to hear would hit fully only later, Dumbledore said: "Let me pick up my narrative up where I dropped it, then.
"Yes... I am very happy to have Professor Snape as a confederate and ally, instead of an enemy! There's more strategic thinking in him than in the Dark Lord, or Lucius Malfoy, for instance, even if put together, who both have other means to obtain what they want – or rather think they do, in the latter case."
Harry nodded. He was beginning to feel blotchy, bleary-eyed, and shaken to the bone as he would after hours of Quidditch practice in a hard rain, but wanted to show that he was with Dumbledore again, and willing to listen.
Surely, this must have been the worst! Harry wanted very much to hear the whole of the story, now that the dragon was out. After all, Snape had had to admit that he'd been wrong in the end, and done so, too. Dumbledore's mentioning of his own beliefs before he had heard Sirius out had not gone unnoticed either. Snape had taken his godfather's hand when offered... a gesture Snape had not deserved, as far as Harry was concerned. He would not fall short of his godfather! Yet he could probably still let Snape have it, the better the more he himself knew.
Harry cleared his throat, concentrating away from his rage and pain.
"Malfoy often does get his way, though," he ventured, thinking of Buckbeak's trial, attempting for a change of subject.
"Not as often as he'd liked to, Harry. Remember the outcome? However, in terms of strategy, I believe only Sirius's cousin Bellatrix to be anywhere near a match for your Professor, but she is plain mad. If she ever truly realizes that her master just uses her… Voldemort does very well to realize that he needs Severus Snape, even if he can't fully trust him.
"But to come back to your godfather – after the killing of the Muggles, we were, all of us, including Lupin at least occasionally, quite convinced that Black was the traitor, while I personally had some doubt as to his being the hooded torturer from Idane's memory as Professor Snape would have it, then. Severus came to me, heartbroken with the realisation, and short of a nervous fever, right after the events. Being reminded of his losses in such a way was almost too much even for Severus Snape.
"Remus Lupin, by the way, would have none of that last bit of it, and he and Severus had fights over it when the latter inferred that Black was a cold-blooded traitor and murderer. Apart from me, of course, no-one knew what Severus Snape's accusation of Black was about precisely. Remus was the only one who stood by Sirius all along, even if he could not deny the possibility of treason or blackmail. Telling Remus Lupin that he was sure that his old friend Sirius Black was a Death Eater of a particularly nasty sort would not do, and Remus baited Severus about his own loyalties...
"After the events at the Howling Hut and Sirius's escape, Severus Snape scrutinised again the painful images he had received from Idane, but there was no proof, nothing to honestly justify his suspicion. Nothing came up that allowed for a more definite identification of her hooded tormentor. Severus did try, you know, but he had to admit in the end that he justly could not be sure.
"You see, Harry, even I could not deny at the time that it might have been Sirius, as there was no proof to the identity of the hooded man…"
Harry was about to explode again, but Dumbledore stopped him.
"Sirius had, for all I could see, liked Idane as well as anyone of us, and he'd always despised his cousin Bellatrix, while this hooded figure seemed quite comfortable with her. Sirius Black also had, in most cases but not all, been most straightforward if rash in his actions and dislikes, and I could not reconcile what I knew of him with his being a torturer of sorts. Professor Snape had, with his first-hand experience to the opposite from his school days, no such qualms, and explained that Black must have had us all on for a long time, and while I could not believe that, let me repeat: there was no proof against it!
"To me, all of this was very much out-of-character with your godfather, but when he was caught after Pettigrew's alleged death, he would not talk to anyone, but was merely laughing maniacally, and blamed himself for the deaths of those Muggles as well as that of your father and mother. He knew that Peter Pettigrew had gotten away, or was almost sure of it, and that was too much for him. It appears that he was unable to talk about the events without fits of laughter that obliterated his meaning, which was not helpful. He was mad, in a way, for a time, maddened by pain and guilt… Later, there was Azkaban."
Harry was about to take off on yet another rant against Snape, and about to tell Dumbledore to not defile his godfather's memory, but the Headmaster stopped him once more with a raised slender hand.
"Remember what you saw in Snape's memories when you sneaked in on them, and let me continue, please. As you've figured out quite correctly several nights ago, memories are shaped by those who have them, and are probably best put into the Pensieve fresh... So, the shape you saw, and that I pointed out to you as being Barty Crouch jr., was formed in some parts along the lines of Sirius Black by Professor Snape's mind, as a placeholder for the man he now hated most in all the world. Not to mention that his images were second-hand, so to speak… and, hence, the picture not fully reliable.
"I remember that there'd even been a conversation Snape once overheard while spying for the Order, a couple of years later still, after the rat-animagus had been declared dead. He would have sworn that Malfoy, in his study, had talked to Pettigrew, and mentioned the impression to me in passing, putting it down to strain. I did not make anything of it then. We both put it aside as a mistaken perception.
"Obviously, Pettigrew cannot have been the torturer, being too small to be the hooded figure to start with, not to mention his cowardice and fear of pain in general. So when his betrayal became obvious in the Howling Hut, Sirius Black's story still had not been told yet, and nothing been said to disprove the belief that the latter had been, or was still, a secret follower of Lord Voldemort.
"In the Howling Hut, Severus Snape heard only the initial bits of the conversation, putting them down to Blacks devilish cunning. He could only think that, with Sirius cornered, he had the sadistic killer of his love at his mercy...
"See, Harry, when Severus heard what everybody believed Sirius to have done, it fit in just too well with his own suspicions and prejudices, even though he never knew him to be a Death Eater: a traitor to his best friend for the Dark Lord, giving everything to serve his master, just like his cousin; just like he himself would have done not all that long ago – someone like that would not hesitate to torture and kill a woman he had once liked and even courted..."
The boy lost it again. The Headmaster had aimed his last sentences to achieve such a release, too.
"YOU SEE?" Harry screamed. "Snape's mad, he's completely out of it! Sirius would never have..." Harry couldn't say it. "Snape must be insane, he cannot..."
Albus Dumbledore pushed on forcefully, ignoring the outburst.
"I am telling you what Severus Snape believed at that time, and with no evidence against it, but does not believe anymore now, do you hear me? Had it become known that Idane was dead and how she died, many people would have believed the same thing! You could even say that, by not letting become public knowledge what had become of her, Severus Snape protected Sirius, your godfather! I am not asking you to share that belief, or proclaim the actions that came from it wise!
"Do remember, too, that you wanted to hear this! You want to hear the story of Sirius more than that of Snape, surely, but you have to realise that one does not go without the other! Believe you me that both men would heartily dislike that circumstance, too! Hence, I do suggest that you calm down!" rumbled Dumbledore.
His anger deflated Harry a little, but not much. Also, for the first time registered with him the meaning of the Headmaster's repeated words that no-one yet knew of the woman Idane's death. Harry did not particularly care right now, though.
"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! No matter what you say, this is ridiculous!"
"Harry, CALM DOWN! Try to look at it from his perspective..."
"NO! You cannot seriously want me to consider the fabrications of a madman!"
Dumbledore sounded imperative.
"Harry, stop here, NOW! You have to take these things as they come! THEY ARE PAST, and history! Neither do they form to your bidding and run as you please! These are no fairy-tales or History of Magic lessons! DO consider that Sirius's flight right after the Potter murders, without bothering to explain anything, whether to his friends or me, did not serve him well – it was rash and stupid! Sirius's own madness, and refusal to speak, did not help matters! Furthermore, I will NOT have you insult Professor Snape any more!"
That did chill Harry a bit.
"Will you listen now, and try not to shout at me?"
No reply, no sign of recognition.
Not good... However, there was nothing for it but to continue, now.
"Will you…?"
Dumbledore waited.
But Harry was not to be had. He should have said 'Yes sir, sorry!', but he could not.
After another sigh, the old wizard decided to take Harry's silence for assent – at least, the boy was not raging anymore at the moment –, and went on.
"When Sirius Black took off without giving an explanation after his best friend's death, to hunt Pettigrew down as we know now, I myself assumed IN HIS FAVOUR that he, in his flamboyant manner, had attempted to infiltrate the Death Eaters, but not known of the impending attack, and wanted to find out more about it on the spot, with Peter's help, probably looking for revenge at the same time. With your parents dead, he also would have no-one to lay proof to his claim. That was the best explanation for Sirius's behaviour I myself could come up with at that point, see?"
Harry went pale.
"But..."
"Harry, you do have to understand WHAT WE DID NOT AND COULD NOT KNOW at that time; what your godfather never bothered to explain, before or after, as I just said! That failure, and it alone, got him all those years in Azkaban!
The Headmaster hated to be that rude, and hurt to see Harry shrink visibly at his words, but the boy was most obstinate, insisting on his prejudices… Severus surely would have liked to see him treating Potter jr. like this!
Harry cleared his throat, bringing the old wizard back from his thoughts of remorse. He sounded quite composed.
"So, if he – if Sirius'd told you that he was not my parents' secret-keeper, and that he was setting out after Pettigrew, you would have been able to protect him?"
Harry had finally accepted the story he was being for what it was, Dumbledore noted with some relief.
"I am not sure of that, Harry, but I would most definitely have attempted to shed light on the matter. I would have known for sure that it could not possibly have been Sirius who killed those Muggles, nor your parents! His having told me would have been proof in and of itself. To bring in Peter Pettigrew, dead or alive, would have been his only proof in any case – it still is now. And there's no way that he'd have been imprisoned for such a long time. But your godfather had to keep his knowledge, and feelings of guilt about transferring the duty of secret-keeping, to himself…
"Harry, the way things went, I could only presume Sirius guilty, like he proclaimed himself to be by his very words upon his arrest, if for different reasons entirely, and not for the murders. He blamed himself to have transferred his secret-keeping duties, but he did not say! So, he now kept the secret very much, but he also was the only one who knew who had betrayed your parents. I must confess that I do not understand why he preferred to take that knowledge with him to Azkaban, thus disabling me and the Order to take charge of the affair, and depriving us of knowledge that would have prevented many of the events that are now taking place."
Dumbledore noticed how Harry was visibly building up steam again, this time from the realisation of the shortcomings of his godfather. He pushed ahead.
"But in this way, the next thing I heard of Sirius Black was that he'd killed twelve Muggles, without a moment of hesitation, and had gotten rid of Pettigrew who'd been after him seeking revenge, obviously! What would you make of such events? Sirius had not taken revenge for his friends, but run amok! With him in insane fits of laughter at his arrest and refusing to speak clearly, but instead uttering wild self-deprecations, nothing much could be done. No-one had any reason or opportunity to assume that there was more to the affair than Sirius Black being a Death Eater secretly, who'd just betrayed his best friend to his master, and gone raving mad right after over it, killing another friend and a dozen innocent bystanders... Can you see the truth of that, Harry?"
Trying to hide the tears running down his cheeks, Harry nodded faintly, his face withdrawn.
"But not all of this was merely stubbornness or the longing for revenge. There was, at the very least, one other reason for your godfather to not talk about what was going on. I think that, when he found out that he had lost all, the one thought Sirius Black held on to was to protect Remus Lupin, his friend who was completely innocent of the goings-on, knew nothing, and whose being a werewolf would inevitably have to come to light during inquiries if he himself confessed to being an unregistered animagus, which again he would have to, in order to accuse Peter Pettigrew of being the same thing, in Voldemort's service, and give a reason for that.
"With Lord Voldemort gone, Sirius did not see much damage in leaving the rat be, wishing on him the gutter existence he seems indeed to have had for some time – before he was taken in by the Weasleys... Still, I do not understand why he did not confide in me while he had the chance…"
The sadness in Dumbledore's voice shook Harry a bit. It was gone though before he could react to it.
"You may take some small comfort in the thought, Harry, that your godfather did indeed give his life in more ways than one to protect his friends. He was a very brave man; he just did not always act on foresight, and he kept his plans and deeds to himself too much altogether – he was never one to take council, or for waiting, but rather to act, and rashly. In that, as in some other things, he is the perfect opposite of your Potions Professor."
Harry was seriously in tears by then once more, but quietly.
The Headmaster let him cry. It would be best to have the pent-up pain out as soon as possible. The lonely and desperate sound of the boy's crying went to his heart, but he knew that whatever consolation he could give was of no use here at all. Fawkes flew over and settled on Harry's shoulder, comforting him by smoothinghis cheek with his golden silken head.
This took quite some time. Eventually, the sobs ceased a bit and Harry tried to dry his eyes with still another handkerchief, in inconsequent shades of blue this time. Harry probably felt ashamed of his outbursts at this point. Waiting for the boy to compose himself, Dumbledore decided that in the meantime, he might as well tell him some more or less deleterious story of Sirius, of Harry's parents, or of Lupin, of course. If he could find any in his memory, right now…
So he continued as if no interruption had taken place, but in quite another vein.
"At least, Professor Snape now appears to have made a kind of peace with Lupin, who is admittedly one of the nicest and most decent and considerate people around – a better-mannered, more polite Werewolf, or man, one won't easily find anywhere.
"Many years ago, Severus eventually took pretty much the position of James and Sirius toward him, due to his brewing of the Wolfsbane potion. He was the only one who could provide Remus with it – without him being registered and restrained by the Ministry. You see, he did that whenever possible, regardless of what had happened! Professor Snape thus protects Remus of the Change where he can, as well as from Ministry regulations imposed on werewolves. This has been happening since long before Remus Lupin came to Hogwarts to teach, and he did it not merely do it for the reason of my asking him. Lupin says he never had any potion against the Change of such potential, one that worked so well and did so little harm, being almost savoury even, whatever that bit of it was worth, so Snape must really be concerned, even if he claims he does it for the common good alone. I can't say I have any idea what makes your Professor do this, Harry."
Dumbledore's smile in Harry's direction met with no reaction.
"Lupin told me, too, that once last year, when a full moon was coming on really strong, due to certain stellar conjunctions and its closeness to the earth, and the Change would have been dangerously hard to control even with the potion, Snape turned up with a flask, without having been called, saying he had changed the recipe slightly – and Lupin just curled up in front of Sirius's fireplace in Grimmauld Place, and slept right through it!
"Your godfather, who was in a good mood that day regardless of his – well, house arrest, complimented Severus, saying he whished they had had that potion then. Severus answered curtly that, then, as Sirius was saying, he wouldn't have been able to make this as it had not been invented. They neither got at each other nor took offence that night, and that was the closest thing they ever got to a civil conversation – but, as you can see, it was possible."
"Yes, then."
"Oh, Harry, I am so sorry but – you just can't push these events away forever..."
The old Headmaster himself seemed ready to cry at that moment.
Tears still were flowing down Harry's cheeks quietly, regardless of a whole row of ever-changing fresh hankies in all the colours of the rainbow floating by that he grabbed for unthinkingly, and the boy seemed oblivious of them until he wiped his face with a fist. He looked at the humidity there with surprise, but not with embarrassment, but anger. He swallowed a sob, and inhaled deeply.
"But I am not sorry, sir, and you know that. I rather enjoy hearing nice stories like that, you see? I realise I know so little about Sirius..."
He was not joking, either.
Would this work? Dumbledore hoped that the worst was over now – for tonight.
"Allow me to continue, then... After your godfather escaped from Azkaban, managing to prove, at least to the Order, that Peter Pettigrew lived, and that he himself was innocent; to you and me, to Remus Lupin and, finally, Professor Snape, we never found time between us to really breach the Death Eater issue, and that of his silence upon his arrest, as neither seemed of consequence at the time – a big mistake as I realise now! Sirius had obviously never been a Death Eater, so the reasons for his actions seemed unimportant at that point, and there always were so much more pressing matters at hand... Another talk I missed out on, see, Harry? I intend not to make that mistake again while I find the time…
"It was not as if the Ministry believed any of what had gone on, or would stage a trial for Sirius to clear his reputation, as you know yourself... If such a thing was ever to happen, Peter's survival and betrayal would implicitly be proven, too."
"Yes, and he lives! Pettigrew, the rat! – he lives! I let him! And he..."
Dumbledore did not permit Harry to finish that sentence.
"If your godfather really attempted to spy on the Death Eaters before your parents died, he can't possibly have gotten far, as Pettigrew would have told his master about it, too. He knew who was in the Order, remember, and no-one knew about his allegiance to Voldemort. This gave Voldemort a double handle: someone to put the blame on, and his servant would be able to keep his cover – if Black could be silenced, that was. By Pettigrew's actions, both was splendidly achieved – only Voldemort himself was not around himself any longer to fully profit from it in the envisioned manner, and you survived the Avada Kedavra. That, at least… 15 years of relative peace…"
The old wizard fell silent, looking at Harry, who took some moments to realise that this was a look of praise, and blushed. Were fifteen years of peace a long time, then?
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued.
"However, a presumed attempt to become a spy with the Death Eaters would have also provided excellent reason for your godfather not to partake of the Fidelius charm, and for the Potters to look for another secret keeper... we do not know, see, Harry? We probably never will…
"When your parents were murdered, the thought that there might have been a change of secret keepers was only a fleeting idea that got me nowhere. There was no way of finding out. It does me no better today. Your parents were dead – betrayed, as it seemed, by their best friend, who'd gone insane. Full stop.
"So, I still do not know what was behind the exchange of the secret keeper since I failed to ask your godfather in time, or either of them to tell me, but it would be just like them – as would not telling anyone else be. On Black's side, it can't possibly have been a sudden attack of cowardice to withdraw from the charm, as some like to make out, that much is sure. He never got far with his attempt at infiltration either – if there was any such thing at all... Severus Snape would have known at some point if he had. Also, Sirius would have had to count himself lucky not to have been killed by Voldemort.
"You will realise that all of this worked very much in favour of Voldemort and his lot, regardless of his temporal demise..."
Dumbledore fell silent, giving Harry time to take things in. He was hoping the boy would see how a chain of lonely, uncouncilled, and often rash decisions had led Black to make his mistake, and not be hurt too much by it.
The Headmaster knew that he himself, he alone, was to be blamed for lack of communication when that had been direly needed, but he fully intended to make up for it. He'd just not expected all of this to be so really, really hard on himself...
Not for the first time in his life, Albus Dumbledore ruminated that it was amazing that people DID talk at all, seeing what that led to, all the ensuing damage and pain...
He noticed that Harry was not crying anymore, but shivering slightly as if cold, and he sensed that it was with a kind of helpless rage, and the pain of loss.
This was not over yet.
Harry would have to target again this messenger who bore, in his own eyes, part of the blame. The Headmaster would willingly provide this target – to make good, and to assure the prevention of future mistakes.
"So, once again, Harry, considering that Professor Snape was unconscious for most of the exchange between you, your friends, and the surviving Marauders, in the Shrieking Shack, and looking at the events of the night from that perspective, maybe you can understand that, after leaving the place, it was of no consequence whatsoever to Severus Snape who the Dementors would have kissed that night, including himself, if he could just capture Sirius Black. Gaining favour with the Minister was merely a bonus thrown in. But like before in his life, all plans came to naught...
"I sometimes wonder how he can stand it all…"
Harry was silent to that. They both said nothing for some time.
Was there any other story that could be told, that was anecdotical and quite beside the point, but would soothe Harry's pain a little bit?
He ruminated. Nothing else besides that Wolfsbane story.
A kind of confessional, then.
The old wizard cleared his throat.
"I'll recapitulate, if you permit. There was the time when your father saved Severus Snape's life by following him to the Howling Hut, and preventing him from entering it. After that, Severus inevitably knew that Lupin was a werewolf, and his main impulse in developing the Wolfsbane to perfection later on might have been to protect himself and others from the danger he'd been in.
"When they were back that night, he came crashing into my office, screaming at me that the Marauders had attempted to murder him. Even back then, he was not exactly what I'd call good-tempered.
"I told him that I didn't believe that Black had meant him real harm, and he practically flew at me again and shouted that he didn't care who meant what but that there had been real, factual danger for him... I took that to be consent. Today, I wonder how I could.
"He went on, screaming why should he care if I trusted that moron – what would it matter if he intended to harm or not if HE DID harm? He said Black had acted thoughtless in the utmost, and I had to agree with him there.
"Yet, I did not punish Black, for the sake of Lupin, who was not guilty in this, considering intentions, and for the good I saw in both of them... I reckoned that Severus would understand me better, and did not realise how much I hurt him by that. As I said, I can detect certain similarities...
"His distrust of me, in the wake of what he'd experienced in his school days, was part of the reason behind Idane's death. But truth is, I think, that he really did not and does not care now. He's been destroyed, in a sense. He'd kill me, I think, without a moment of hesitation, should the time come…
"Even then... you'd have to know...
"That night, I told Severus that I thought he'd made up the part about your father, the other time, claiming that James Potter had let him hang upside down by an a-la-mode charm in his underwear in front of the whole school for no reason at all aside of torturing him. As I said, Severus was no lamb either. I am afraid I always turned him down and, sum total, he had to take more of the blame than was his share. I must consider my guilt in pushing him toward becoming a Death Eater... Even though that had been pre-arranged by his parents, I did nothing to divert him there...
"I told you he always gave as good as he got, but I can't deny that my judgement was at fault that time, and that he was subjected to injustice on my part more than once. The boy Severus was into the Dark Arts, an occupation which tends to gather its own momentum, and not a nice, charming boy like three of the Marauders... Also, he was no Gryffindor. Such a bias, too, just like is said of me, must be considered a weakness, and one of the reasons... You can gauge the increase of urgency behind matters, and the danger of this war as well, I believe, by looking at the importance that is attached to any individual's house membership those days. Must have been peaceful and quiet times when I was afflicted like that..."
Harry showed no interest in, or signs of listening to, anything his Headmaster had said lately, but Dumbledore was aware of his acute attention, and was sure that the boy only waited for a phrase to take offence with to blow his top once again.
And that was necessary. The Headmaster would then have to set the boy right, and stunt the aggression before it took over. This was almost like role-play, and the old man hated the mechanics of it. Yet so much depended on it! If he did not manage to set Harry back on the right track tonight, if he failed, Tom Riddle might have an adversary less.
"So, however, when I voiced my doubts as to his statements, Severus Snape shouted at me. He really exhausted himself then... The things that came up when he confronted me with what, in hindsight, I must admit was misjudgement and gross injustice indeed, where shocking but did not move me then.
"I had never known at lot about those things, you see – or rather, I'd closed my eyes to them, nor do I know much about such incidents now. I would do it again, too: the students always try to manage on their own, and I do encourage that... I know the gist of things, and leave them to their devices. This seems to be enough already to let people think that I am informed about everything that goes on at Hogwarts.
"Going back – yes, I do feel guilty about it, because it is so obvious how much damage that one incident has done... There's always guilt there, in acting and in not acting…
"Even the Dementors that almost kissed you by the lake can, in a way, be traced back to that one scene in this very office... I am trying to comfort and console myself with the thought that I did my best in either case, whatever that is worth, and that your friends are still alive, at least.
"Had I listened in a different manner, with more sympathy for a Slytherin student, Severus might not have become a Death Eater. But then, we'd have no spy now. Counterfactual thought, however, is only good for long, lone winter evenings, for reminiscence by the fireside... By necessity, its teachings come too late always. And there's hardly time for that now at any time of the year."
Still, Harry did not move.
"So, what you saw in the Pensive that day last year was most disgraceful for your Professor, the more so since, incidentally, his memories were watched by the son of his one-time enemy who'd inflicted the tortures on him. What you saw likely was only one of several similar incidents, as I said, but that is definitely not what drove him almost over the brink when he discovered Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack after he'd broken out of Azkaban.
"Whatever you've seen there of his school time memories, whatever else the Marauders may have done to Severus Snape, was nothing compared to the satisfaction that he was finally about to lay hands on the man whom he believed to have cruelly killed his beloved, and that he could conveniently submit him to the worst fate known to wizardkind – the Dementor's kiss.
"He is a man who has never endangered any students, or anyone else, in the Order or at Hogwarts. He tries to protect whenever he can what, to him, is what is left of a home – a world that could be worth living in if it was not for individual cowardice.
"Yet, at that moment by the lake, his temper let him put revenge above all, and there was no-one to consult – very much like Sirius Black, many years before…"
The Headmaster fell silent. He neither knew nor cared right now if Harry had listened at all. It was a relief to voice some of the incidents of guilt that he felt to have heaped upon himself in the course of action.
Dumbledore merely hoped that this story would make the boy see that he eventually would have to face his own suffocating feelings.
The mention in passing of 'several incidents' at which his father and godfather had committed cruel things that involved Snape made Harry wonder how much more there was, and who else the Marauders – his father – had mistreated and abused. This first part of it did not bother him very much, feeling as he did that hardly anything bad happening to Snape could be painful enough, but had there been others? The thought grated on Harry's nerves. Even if they had, if that was so – they had fought for the light, hadn't they? They'd been members of the Order of the Phoenix, and hence of the right side. So had those …victims of theirs been evil, naturally? Or had they made them thus?
Harry felt he needed time to think this over, or even to just let it sag and settle a bit during a good night's sleep – if he could get it after what he'd just heard, but the Headmaster was not finished yet.
Dumbledore registered that Harry was stirring again. The boy looked tired, and the Headmaster knew that this could not go on much longer, but he had to cut through the knot of tension that wound the boy up once and for all before he permitted Harry to leave.
"These are the facts, then. As I told you, Professor Snape has believed, and for many years, that Sirius Black had been one of the four who had tortured and killed Idane G., and that, for sure, is something he'll never forgive. To him, the death of your parents obviously mattered less than the loss of his one love...
"The events long past were not mentioned then nor, I believe, ever after between your godfather and the Potions Professor, but the turn of events after the Triwizard Tournament has convinced even Severus that, as indeed was the case, the younger Crouch had been the hooded tormentor. He and Sirius did, after all, shake hands, if at my order, and Professor Snape would never have done such a thing had he still been convinced of Sirius involvement in Idane's death."
SIRIUS being the one who hardly deserved that gesture! Impossible!
Harry felt worn-out and utterly tired, his eyes hurt. The gnawing thought that his father and his friends had probably not been nice people at all, worthy of his loving memory and longing, even if they had fought for the light later on, was becoming too much. His anger stirred again.
Harry hated himself for the time that he, Snape appearing civil for one moment, had almost apologized for his father, for being like James Potter which, he realised, he probably wasn't: he didn't know what his father had been like!
What was it to Snape whose son he was?
That accusation of Sirius... Sirius was no killer!
Harry swore to himself that he'd make the git suffer worse than any Marauder had ever done. Worse than those four Death Eaters... no. What would that make him?
The strain became too much.
Harry lost his composure and jumped up from his chair, shouting and crying at the same time.
"HOW CAN THAT BE! SNAPE STOOPING TO SHAKE SIRIUS'S HAND! SNAPE'S SO STUPID AND BLIND – AND YOU ARE! YOU ARE TOO!"
Harry was sobbing now.
"He would have hated Sirius utterly even if Sirius had been Lord Voldemort's true follower, and had had no hand in that murder at all! YOU ARE ALWAYS TALKING IN HIS FAVOUR! BUT THAT'S NO PROOF OF HIS CHANGE! YOU CANNOT EVER RELY ON HIM AGAINST THE DARK LORD; YOU SAID SO YOURSELF!"
Dumbledore seemed to consider this.
"I have trusted him before, my dear boy, and will do so again fully, in the future. See, Harry, if you and he..."
Harry interrupted the Headmaster rudely.
"OH, STOP BLABBERING; YOU OLD COOT!"
The Headmaster gave him a long piercing look at that insult, but his voice did not change.
"There, there, Harry! May you never have to experience any more of such things than you do already...
Harry was still shaking with rage.
"I NEVER WILL WORK WITH THAT GREASY GIT! I HATE YOU, AND HIM, AND I'LL MAKE YOU BOTH FEEL IT!"
Albus Dumbledore said calmly: "I do think you better leave now, and I do expect an apology when you come back the next time."
The old wizard was not sure if it was wise to leave the boy to his own devices right now, but Harry surely would have no use for the Headmaster's regards during the next few hours, and his anger had reinstated him in his own strength. This might do…
Harry had turned on his heel, and was making for the door already. Behind him, he heard the Headmaster say:
"Furthermore, I trust you to not do anything rash around Professor Snape, do you hear me?"
There was steel and admonition in Dumbledore's voice now, and Harry felt shaken a little by the power of it, but he did turn nor give any sign that he'd heard him. He gritted his teeth. No, it surely would not be anything rash…
Tightly, he said to the office door: "Sir, good night, sir," and left, slamming it in a manner that would have done his hated Potions master honour.
Behind him, an old wizard with a long, white beard buried his face in his hands, and his sighs sounded almost like sobs.
The old man seemed to shrink, his tall, thin frame shaking slightly. Dumbledore was utterly exhausted, and deeply in doubt about his course. Eventually, he inhaled deeply, and composed himself.
It was over. The explosion had been triggered, confirmed, and channelled, or so the Headmaster hoped, and there was only one thing left to do: to wait for the results.
Confirmed – the thought brought him back to Silva Snape – she surely would do the boy good, and he turned toward the fireplace to let her know.
The young woman was appalled at his harshness of treatment of young Potter, but agreed that there was no time for sentiments, and promised to look out for the boy. There was, conveniently, a tutoring date of hers with Harry next afternoon again, too.
Her ways and manner, Dumbledore noted, once again relieved him of a bit of his burden, and brought some ease to his heavy heart, even on so brief a contact.
She was good to have around again, Silva.
Dumbledore turned back to his desk and sat down heavily.
It was done, and had gone mostly as predicted by the Potions master… He'd have to tell him. There was immediate danger in store for Severus Snape if the man was right about the outcome, too. He'd constantly been right, lately... The Headmaster hoped Snape would not be, this time. But there was no reason to think that the tables would turn just now.
Was his own assessment of character leaving him, the sure guide to people that he had always been able to rely on? Were intuition and intellect failing him? Was he really getting that old?
After a while, Dumbledore went over to the fireplace once more, threw a pinch of floo powder into the flames and said, "Professor Snape."
----------
Harry left the Headmaster's office in a raging fury, hardly able to prevent himself from running down to the dungeons and attack Snape physically. He'd actually apologised, and more than once, to that – to that git! But while he walked on, he noticed how very tired and sad he was. Harry only hoped that Filch or Peeves would leave him alone for the rest of the day.
Stopping at a high window, he looked out over the grounds, and saw many students at play, or study. The sunshine seemed incoherent; not at all what the world should look like after what he had just experienced.
Looking at that oddly peaceful display outside felt like watching TV – quite unreal. There was also a corner of the Quidditch grounds within his sight, and he heard the shouts and laughter drifting over. Must be Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs practicing, today.
The weather being summery warm, most everybody was outside in the grounds. He heard Peeves rummage and sing at a distance, and circumvented him. Could he go to see Silva again today? She would listen, and comfort him, surely… No. Harry felt he could not possibly talk to anyone right now. His mind was in a whirl, and he knew that he'd need time to digest, and by himself, to recover from what he'd just learned.
Harry walked on slowly, feeling utterly exhausted. He also was faintly ashamed of having put up such a show, but not, he told himself, of what he had said. Harry was resolved to have his revenge on Snape.
He also knew that he would regret his insults to the Headmaster within the hour, even if he did not yet, and without doubt would apologize the next time they met as a matter of course, which would be soon, too – his behaviour had been highly inappropriate, to say the least. After all, he had wanted to hear the truth, if not Snape's story, and he would have to take it as it came out, even considering the old man was mistaken here or there – but Snape...?
He had his first detention with that – with him tonight, after dinner! It would do both of them better if Harry would just have to clean the floors by hand, or to slice flobberworms.
Harry would have to see the ... git in mere hours, take his insults and derision, and look at that thin, beaky face – the face of a man who had done everything to destroy his godfather… who had known and hated his father.
What was more: how could Harry know that the old wizard really told him the truth, or knew everything, like when he claimed that Snape had relayed Harry's message about Sirius being in the hands of the Dark Lord as soon as he was sure that Harry and Dumbledore's Army had left for the Ministry of Magic by means unknown?
The Headmaster would not lie to his face, Harry was sure, but Dumbledore would not hesitate to omit facts from his tale that did not suit his purpose… Also, maybe Snape was lying, and the Headmaster did not know.
Harry decided he would let Snape have a piece of his mind right away, tonight, and make the detention worth his while.
He shuffled along to Gryffindor Tower meeting no-one, just like he had hoped. Hermione would have some lesson or other, or be studying in the library, and he'd told Ron not to wait for him. His friend was likely outdoors, practicing his flying.
Even the thought of flying did nothing to cheer Harry up. Practice by himself was not an option just now, particularly if the place was crowded with students of other houses. They wouldn't leave him alone. The Gryffindors were not scheduled for the pitch today. Harry did not feel up to face his friends, and had no idea of telling them what he had learned, or how to. That was to be left for later.
There was a tiny incessant voice at the back of his head that had been grating at his nerves ever since Dumbledore had first mentioned Sirius's rash and single-handed decision-making, chanting over and over again: 'Had you but listened! That lack of perceptiveness! Had you but used Sirius's gift!' It sounded uncannily like Snape's, and Harry hated it all the more for that.
Harry had tried to push those memories back to the farthest recesses of his brain, and succeeded there most of the time, but after what he'd just heard, they forced themselves back into to foreground with growing strength, mercilessly – and with it, the burden of guilt came back that Harry felt slowly becoming unbearable.
The common room was empty, and the fireplace not lit. The place was chilly even on a bright late summer day as this. Harry hesitated, but decided not to bother, and moved on, up the stairs to the dormitory. Waving the curtains closed, he wearily lay down on his bed to turn this afternoon's events over in his mind – and fell asleep instantly.
It had been too much altogether, his body and mind needed to sleep it off.
Ron and the others barged in a short time before dinner to change from their sports clothes and, in the case of Dean, even to take a shower. Ron shook his friend awake, but left him alone at his insistent begging. Harry was not hungry, and was back to sleep in no time.
He did not stir when the others came in briefly again after dinner, or when they made to sleep much later, never bothering to try and raise him again, but only woke when all was dark and the sounds in the room told him that it was well past bedtime. Neville's and Seamus's snores were unmistakeable.
Harry felt pretty good, wondering why he'd wake at such an hour – until recollection hit of what Dumbledore had told him and what he in his turn had said to the Headmaster.
He sat up with a jerk, making his bed creak.
What was more, he'd missed the appointed detention with Snape! That meant more apologies and, very likely, detentions – or worse, since giving Harry Potter detentions was no real option for punishment for Snape, for the time being, unless they were with, say Filch…
Surely, there was not to be any sort of private lessons ever again!
Not that that thought was much of a relief.
Harry felt that he didn't care. What if he got detentions, or lost his house points? Blast the apologies! They truly were at war! His pain and anger boiled up in him once more. Harry would go and see Snape right away – now, at night, regardless of what time it was, let him have a piece of his mind just like he'd planned, receive whatever punishment the git felt to be adequate, and be done with it.