Repentance – part 6

"Professor!" A voice gasped her name from the fire and she had no difficulty in recognising who was calling for her. Severus Snape had returned from his assignation with Lord Voldemort – and even through the flames she could tell he looked terrible.

When they reached him Snape was slumped on the floor of the Room of Requirement. At the sight of him her quarrel with Albus was, if not forgotten, at least temporarily suspended.

"I came to you for help and you sent me back!" He lashed out furiously at his former Headmaster, "I wanted to stop torturing and killing and you've made me continue."

"For the greater good," Dumbledore reminded him gently, though he may as well have held his tongue.

"I don't care about the greater good!"

"Well, unfortunately that is a luxury I can't share." As he spoke his eyes flicked momentarily in her direction and Minerva knew that his words were meant as much for her as for Snape – she just didn't understand why he thought she needed the reminder.

"Tell me what happened," she said briskly, trying to pull Severus' focus back towards her, standing between the two men to break the tension.

"Attacks on muggles, the dark mark over their properties, about 10 different locations – designed to spread panic and fear." Snape said dimly, hardly bothering to look up and, as he recited the names and locations she realised with a growing sense of despair that among the victims were the families of Hogwarts students.

"Headmaster – we should wake the students concerned – break the news to them ourselves."

"Unfortunately it will have to wait, we aren't supposed to know yet – we can't risk anyone suspecting that we have a spy."

"But…!"

"It will have to wait Professor McGonagall!" He had snapped at her, which was highly unusual – and he must have realised because he seemed to deflate a little as she continued to stare furiously at him, "let them sleep for a few more hours Minerva, what harm can it do?" She nodded, though it galled her to wait for the Ministry to notify them – she had not been impressed by their ability to break bad news to children so far. "I'll go and try to make sure the task is left to us, will you come and find me when you are finished here?"

"Of course." She watched him leave, not surprised by his departure but confused by his strange behaviour, by the things he had alluded to but not shared with her during their earlier discussion. It was a pertinent reminder that somehow the better she got to know him, the more mysteries she discovered.

But she couldn't think about now. Instead she poured tea from the steaming set the room had apparently decided that they needed. Snape had not moved so, with a sigh, she carried the cups over to him and slid down at his side. They say together in silence until he buried his head in his hands, his words muffled, but distinguishable.

"I don't know how I can stand it," he said, "I couldn't warn anyone, I had to go along, play my part. I don't think I actually killed anyone – but that was luck. Eventually I will."

"You have to accept that you aren't there to save individual lives," she said quietly, "there may be times when its worth the risk to try – but there will be many more times when to even make the attempt would be to risk exposure. You have to accept that you are there to help end the war – and that in the process there will be casualties."

"Is that what you did?" She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering all the moments when she had done nothing, sent no warning, allowed people to die.

"I didn't participate in attacks – but I knew when they would happen, who would be targeted – and I couldn't issue any warnings. It would have been too dangerous. I was there for a year and in that time I didn't save a single life. It was the hardest thing to accept – it still is."

"I can't fathom what it would feel like to live this life for a year." He took a sip of the tea and she thought to herself that if telling him about her experience was the price she was going to have to pay to get him through a war she believed would last much longer than a year, then she would gladly do so.

That in itself was a miracle. He had been the enemy just days ago, was still the enemy in many ways and yet she was going to use her darkest memories to save him. She wondered if Albus had realised that this was another way to put the past behind her – or if, blinded by his own guilt, he had not been able to see it in those terms.

"It's surprising what you get used to. I suppose a year is a long time – but it took several months for me to attract Grindelwald's attention. Even longer for our, relationship to develop to a point where he trusted me."

"You were his lover?" She had never actually said it, though it had been implicit in every word she had uttered about her experiences. The actual confirmation was harder than she had expected, but there was no condemnation in the dark eyes that met her own. Probably he understood better than most people.

"Eventually." When she had arrived at the fortress there had been younger, more beautiful women in evidence. But as Dumbledore had predicted their quarry had tired of their attentions rapidly – and he clearly hadn't trusted any of them. It had taken her time to map out an approach that stood any chance of succeeding and, since her father had desired the outcome as much as she did – albeit for different reasons, she had his help and connivance. In a way it had been like a game of chess – just with far more at stake.

In the end her strategy had been simple, she had discovered the extensive library in the fortress and spent hours there. She had been drawn to the books she knew she would never find anywhere else, about dark magic – and Grindelwald's curiosity had been engaged. He had taken to inviting her to discuss her reading material with him, they had spent hours sitting together, talking late into the night. If she hadn't known that at the same time as debating with her he was planning the deaths of thousands and the destruction of everything she cared about, it might have been a pleasant experience.

Her natural reserve had worked in her favour. As they had spent more time together their conversation had slipped into more personal areas and she had recognised his surprise when she had turned out to be more, worldly, than he expected – her former professor had been right in that prediction as well. She had known that he wanted her long before they became lovers, the reticence that held him back was evidence that she would be more than a passing fancy – which was the plan after all.

"We became lovers after I'd been there for almost 6 months. After our first time together I stayed in a hot bath for two hours, trying to clean the places where he'd touched me. I couldn't do it, of course." After a while she had learnt that it wasn't the sex that was destructive – but the intimacy. The worst times had been when he had made plans for their future, when he had told her that he loved her and she, stumbling and blushing had repeated the words back to him – all the time fighting the feeling that she was betraying something important. All the time knowing that she was making promises to a monster.

"So, what happened? How did you pass on information about their activities? Or did you have nothing to do with his defeat?"

"I was very selective about the reports I sent back to England. It was fortunate that very few people knew about my animagus form – which meant I could move around without being detected, as long as I was careful. One of Grindelwald's closest advisors was captured – not entirely by accident, since I had sent back information about his mission. The idea was to get information from him by interrogation but there was an unintended consequence. The fortress was unplottable and protected by powerful wards, but when Grindelwald's secret keeper was captured he needed to find a new one."

Snape's eyes met hers, understanding already blossoming in them – but he asked the question anyway.

"He made you his secret keeper?"

"And I betrayed him. The fortress was found, the wards broken, one winter's night there was an attack, Professor Dumbledore duelled Grindelwald – and killed him. I am sure that part of the story was covered in history of magic and if you somehow failed to pay attention in those lessons then I believe the information can be found on the cards in chocolate frogs."

"But not your part?"

"No, the records are sealed. Hardly anyone knows, it's not something I casually discuss, I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way."

"Professor Dumbledore has already ensured that I recognise the importance of protecting you and even if he had not – it would be extremely foolish of me to endanger one of the few people who can help me survive."

"The headmaster can help you survive, he does care about your fate – you must believe that." Her anger with Albus had not diminished but she couldn't allow their personal battle to blind her to the fact that they were at war, that different rules applied. Gently she said, "if he cared less, he would find it easier to face you."

She closed her eyes for a moment, realising that the words applied equally, if not more so, to his behaviour towards her. She did not doubt that he cared, nor that he felt guilty about things she did not understand and yet still he faced her every day. There was no way they could continue like this, she had to see Albus; she had to understand what was going on.

TBC