Harry Potter and the Headmistress' Hypothesis: Chapter 37
J.K. Rowling knows what's in every note in Professor Snape's private collection.
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Harry missed dinner again. He was tucked in the furthest alcove in the library, gazing out at the lake where the squid lazily traced pumpkin-shaped ripples in the dark water.
Inside, his mind roiled with the fierce contest of wills.
What a waste! One part of him wept. The brightest witch of our age. Murdered! Dumbledore with all his wisdom and all the king's men could never replace her.
The other part of him raged. When I faced a dementor I didn't cringe at death! Someone lets in a troll and she just freezes?
The thought he refused to face lurked as a lake of gasoline for all his flames: Hermione isn't coming back.
He looked down at his herbology textbook, the words blurring first one way and then another. He put a hand to his head, a wave of dizziness taking his breath away.
Sometime after curfew Padma came. Shock, then sadness filled her eyes. She steadied herself on the bookshelf, and that small whisper of books got his attention. He raised his eyes to meet hers.
His face was grey except for the rims around his eyes. He scrubbed at his eyes with his fists, a ferocious, defensive gesture. "Patil."
She took a step back. Her lip trembled a little, before she swallowed. "Please come back to the dorms."
He snapped the book shut and grumbled, "Yeah. Okay."
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"What can we do?" Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk.
Before her stood an older wizard with gentle eyes. His robes had dark stains and gaping holes. He shifted his balance to his other foot. "Has he spoken to you about it? Anything?"
"Nothing!" The Deputy Headmistress pulled out her handkerchief. "If actually I had a single reasonable thing to say to such a case, maybe. I hardly know where to start! One minute I was at breakfast, the next I was racing to find my frightened student – ach! I was too late!" She buried her face in the white lace. "Too late!"
The man gazed at her with deep lines in his face that, if anything, only heightened the warmth of his eyes. He had seen this many times before. "Have you asked Poppy about a mind healer?"
"For Harry?"
"Actually for yourself. Perhaps after your own wolves have been tamed, talk to him?" He sighed. "The next full moon is in two days. I don't suppose you could ask Professor Snape for me, if he has anywhere safe I could stay until it passes?"
Professor McGonagall looked up, a tear lingering on her cheek. "I must have forgotten. Just a moment, Remus."
She took a steadying breath, cleaned her face with her handkerchief and straightened her back. Then she took some floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. "Severus?" She called.
A moment later, the Potions Professor's face appeared in the flames. He took in Remus Lupin's presence and his lip curled in a sneer.
Minerva eyed him quietly. "Can you arrange a suitable room where Remus can weather the moon?"
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When Harry missed dinner on Saturday as well, Snape gave Lupin a look of unmistakeable clarity and they both ascended to the library.
Lupin spoke first. "I remember when your mother died, Harry."
Harry's face turned to him with a frigid stare. "Who are you?"
"I was one of your parents' schoolmates. My name is Remus Lupin." He extended a hand.
Snape grumbled at no one in particular. "Are you going to tell him or shall I?"
Remus smiled without mirth. "Why don't you?"
Snape's eyes focused on Harry. "Remus Lupin is a werewolf. It was after your father told me where Lupin would be kept, but did not warn me of the danger, that I ..." He swallowed. "I became angry with your parents, angry enough that I joined the Dark Lord."
Harry turned away. "That's great. Glad to hear it. Um, can you leave me alone now?"
What could Snape do but ignore him and press on? "That was how I heard a prophecy in the Hogs Head Inn and, hoping to become a death eater, I took the words to the Dark Lord. I had no idea it referred to your mother. Naturally, he decided to avert the prophecy by murdering your entire family, and then I went to him privately, begging for your mother's life – she and I were also friends – since we were children."
Harry shrugged. He turned his back on them and leaned his forehead on the cool glass of a window.
Snape pulled up a chair and sat down. "The very last time I saw Lily was in her casket." His breath caught. "Her death freed me from my compulsion to follow the Dark Lord. I have been Dumbledore's man ever since."
Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Are you offering your services to me now? Since the Dark Lord is dead?"
Snape considered it. "You look too much like James Potter, the man who came between me and your mother, the man who made my every waking moment a nightmare. I cannot promise I will be loyal to you, not the way Dumbledore reaches me, reins me in."
Harry shrugged. "I wasn't asking for your loyalty. You once said you could 'bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death.' Show me." He gasped and his hand went to his solar plexus. Then he bored right into Snape's eyes with his own. "Bring back Hermione."
Snape looked away, his breathing ragged. "For many years I sought the secrets of bringing a soul back from beyond the veil of death. There is a stone, known only as the resurrection stone. From what I could learn, the Dark Lord destroyed it after he left Hogwarts. That was when my last hope went out. I saw the broken Stone in a ring on his finger."
Severus Snape stood, then knelt before Harry in the little alcove. The great cape spread like the wings of a bat before the small boy. The man wore a genuinely agonized expression. "Would you care to study my notes?"