Published 23th of October, 2020

Grimmauld Place 12

Around 20:00

As Harry left, Hermione got out the bench, sat down on the floor in front of burning fire and embraced herself tightly. Immediately she felt uncomfortable, but at the same time she felt that this was what she needed now.

Merlin, how uncomfortable it must be for Severus Snape ... If he can bear it somehow, you can bear it, too.

Ginny sat down next to her, so Hermione leaned over and rested her head on her shoulder.

"He will last" Redhead said calmly and Hermione was sure he didn't mean Harry.

Ginny had an extraordinary talent for seeing and understanding human emotions. Even while she was at Hogwarts, she clearly sensed that something was wrong with Severus Snape.

He had a bad reputation not only among students but also among teachers, but whenever he was nearby, Ginny saw in him someone completely different. Black and white. As if her gaze was piercing the shield he had set up. And whoever she saw did not match what the others saw.

But she didn't tell anyone about it. She, who was so terribly wrong about Tom Riddle, would convince others that Snape was GOOD? So she ignored her instincts, afraid of stupid remarks and comments. And - she felt it clearly - that he wouldn't like it, though she didn't understand why. But as soon as Harry revealed his true role, she understood immediately. Very quickly it turned out that her abilities were a magical gift, as valuable as the gift of predicting future that true Seers have. Ginny could sense truth and falsehood, see even the most hidden feelings of fear, hatred, gratitude, sadness, or love or joy, but she couldn't identify the cause.

Since one year she has been working as an Affectologist. She has sometimes collaborated with Aurors, participated in extremely difficult trials before the Wizengamot, assisted with the pre-verification of Unspeakables, assisted companies like Jinks & Hyde in defining threats and adjusting the level of defense spells and has already conducted healing sessions with Mind Healers several times. Hermione regretted that she had cut herself off from the Weasleys after the Severus Snape trial. If she had been in contact with them, Ginny would have known what was happening with her.

"You don't even know the conditions under which he is there" she sighed heavily.

"Stop" cut off her friend. "Do not think about it. It won't help at all. Instead, let's think what we can do so that tomorrow will be better".

Merlin, how good it was to have Ginny with you!

Unfortunately, Ginny's gift had nothing to do with seeing the future, so Ginny had no idea she was terribly wrong.

Hogsmeade, Manor House "Golden Spell"

Representative Room

20:10

The shutters of the large windows were closed to ensure peace and discretion for participants of the meeting, so the large room was lit with hundreds of candles stuck in three large chandeliers. Flames flickered in crystal pendants, sparkled in all rainbow colors, glittered in chains encrusted with gold and gleamed in porcelain plates and goblets, in which now, at the end of the meeting, there were rests of wine or champagne.

The hall reverberate of sounds of conversation, laughter, the rustle of rolls of parchment, folded documents, sliding chairs and the clatter of dozens of pairs of shoes. To avoid the evening chill, a fire burned on two fireplaces disconnected from the Floo network. The smell of fire mixed with the sharp smell of men's perfumes and sweets, the remains of which were still lying on trays placed on the large, round table.

Rufus Haehner carefully pushed the ink bottle away, wiped the tip of the quill and put it in his bag with a satisfied expression. And he had reasons to be happy.

Since two years, as the President of Potion Makers Council, he organized a monthly meeting of English producers of potions, salves, tinctures, aromatic drops and "drugs". Apart from such celebrities as Timothy Jenkins from Elixir House, Stefan Tylor from MediLab, Leoncius Powell from Powell's Potions Laboratory, Barabbas Been from Healthy Drop or Alex Rayleigh from the AR Group he invited many other people. From the very beginning the meetings were attended by home healing protagonists (Grandma knows better than Mungo himself!) and producers of alcohol-based tinctures (there was definitely more alcohol in them than anything else). A year ago, meetings were also joined by a group of newly graduated, Muggle-born students of High Magic School of Medicine, who proposed to use some Muggle medicines, called "biomedicine."

Rufus proposed to discuss the new achievements in healing, to share experience and exchange ideas freely, but the first ten meetings ended in fights, casting spells and one duel outside the room. He guessed it wasn't going to be easy, so he continued the meetings and slowly, slowly the participants started to tolerate each other and finally! a few months ago constructive discussions began.

Today, a decision was made by an overwhelming majority of votes to submit a project act to the Ministry to increase subsidies for scientific research and to express open support for different Healing Centers, which were alternatives to the Clinic.

Now everyone slowly made their way out. Some were talking to each other in low voices, laughter was coming from the hall and a few starving wizards were eating various sweets from the Honeydukes. Out of the corner of his eye, Rufus watched as Powell packed his notes into a large leather bag, shook hands with Been, Jenkins and Tylor and stood next to Alex Rayleigh. She was tidying up her purse and put it on an adjacent plate to give him a hand to kiss, Powell greeted everyone else and walked out briskly.

"Leoncius looks like he grew young again" Tylor said, brushing back the thick hair from his prematurely aged face.

"Maybe he re-created the Philosopher's Stone and did not admit it?" Muttered Barabbas. „A traitor."

And they both burst out laughing. Alex adjusted her elegant bloody red robe that matched her black hair and dark complexion perfectly and turned to face the men.

"Gentlemen, I would like to thank you for tonight. It was extremely successful."

Jenkins gazed at her, his eyes full of longing and reached for his coat.

"Alex, won't you be too cold in such ... sheer dress?"

"I have a cloak in the dressing room" she replied, completely ignoring his suggestion. "Good night."

She gave each of them a hand to kiss and left with elegant steps, leaving behind the scent of elegant perfume. Tylor patted Jenkins lightly and gestured in her direction.

"From your glance, I guess the evening might have been even more enjoyable if she'd let you escort home."

"And stay until breakfast" Been added.

„Oh, stop with this rubbish!" Jenkins snorted. "It is time to leave..."

"Oh, yes! Maybe you'll meet her in the dressing room again! Stefan, are you ready?"

Rufus looked at the three men; one sulky and two smiling as they made to the doors and decided that the meeting was a real success. Of course he knew that tomorrow the same people would start competing with each other again, but today they acted like a group of good friends. It was a huge improvement compared to the previous months. And that support ...

He was pushed out of his reverie by approaching sound of heels on the marble floor. Like everyone else, he looked in that direction and saw Alex hurrying over to the table. The woman reached for her purse, wiping crumbs and fluffs off the table with the hem of her beige cloak, looked around, took something from the chair and left.

Ministry of Magic

Level 1 - Archive

21:00

Harry was one of the small group of employees who could enter the Ministry after 7 pm. After all, he was an Auror and the Aurors, due to their investigations, often had to work at night or on Saturdays or Sundays. Apart from them, of course, the Minister and his protection had such a privilege, all the Unspeakable and employees of the mysterious Department of Very Important Members of the M I Trx Section. Harry had no idea what these people were doing, but he tried to stay away from them. They looked and acted like gray eminences and he had a feeling that they were deeply engaged in all the political mess.

Apart from them, the cleaning ladies and the security guard no one had right to be here.

The elevator that could be acceded from outside the Ministry, was turned off at seven in the evening, but even if it was open, Harry preferred to use the Floo Network anyway. Wherever he moved, he left traces behind him - fireplaces and toilets were under constant surveillance and every trip was recorded in the registers. Lifts too. If someone from the Security Department found him somewhere inside the building with no sign of entry, it would get more attention than simply entrance and exit. This was at least it looked like he was working. About those damn black bones.

Without hiding, he jumped out of the fireplace in the empty and almost dark Atrium and headed for the lifts - the single footsteps echoing off the walls sounded so amazing that after walking the first couple of yards he stopped and listened.

But entering in Headquarters he put on a Invisibility Cloak cast Lumos and checked the content of Roger and Paul's desks.

He had to admit he didn't know what he was looking for. And what HE WANTED to find. Hermione was unable to discuss and plan anything and honestly speaking, it was his fault. You should have forbidden her to go there, not just propose that MAYBE you would go there!

Now he just hoped something would catch his eye; some document, notes, some bloody stain of chocolate.

But he found nothing, so he glanced at the door to Gawain's office, that he could not enter without spell and went to the Archives.

"Office of the Minister of Magic with the Secretariat and Support Services, Human Resources Department, including Administrative Offices, Legal Department, Payroll Department and Personnel Department, with the Registration and Services Office. Archive" a woman's voice announced, the lift stooped with a jerk and in the silence he heard soft clicking of chains.

As there were no windows in the Archives, the light went on as soon as he opened the door. Harry pulled on the gate handle, that had been open this morning, but it didn't budge.

"Shit. Alohomora!"

The gate opened with a loud clank, so he walked on the other side and, just like in the Headquarters, turned off the light just in case and locked the gate with Colloportus.

The large room suddenly felt cramped and gloomy and Harry felt as if invisible walls were pressing against him. The pile of papers on Liz's table was gone, which did not surprise him at all. Given the restrictive laws on the retention of documents and even more restrictive on the right to view them, no one in their right mind would leave a pile of documents on top, some of which might be secret! He was really lucky that this morning he might have had a look at the other papers and he supposed Liz almost immediately regretted she had let him do so. Well, she's not going to tell anyone about it. Neither you.

Not knowing at all the arrangement of the documents in the archive, he had no choice but to go through them all. He started from the left, went to the first row of shelves that there were along the room and saw a small inscription "Auror". On the next one a metal sign said "Goblin Battles - XVII / XVIII". Two other rows were entitled identically.

Harry had assumed that everything in Archives will be sorted in alphabetical order and hoped to find the documents under S, because it suited both "Snape" and "Spec-ial Processes", but now he understood that everything was arranged by theme and he snorted, angry.

So first, you don't know what it might be - Process, Snape, Wizengamot or whatever, and second, you have no idea where it might be!

Ginny seemed right again. He's going to spend half the night here. And for whom - for Snape! And suddenly he remembered Hermione's drawn expression, guilt flooded him again, so he squeezed his wand tighter and continued on.

Faint light wandered along the shelves, revealing from the soft darkness even rows of files, tightly stuffed rolls of parchment, with a layer of dust on them that muffled all sounds. Here and there little signs flashed, marking the beginning of the next topic.

When he reached the far wall, he entered the next row and as he started from behind, he searched closely for the subject. Besides, he didn't really look at the contents, trying to take it as logic. Neither "Clause 73" nor "MACUSA" could relate to Snape, but when he came to the topic of "Muggle Murders" his heart accelerated.

He started from the other end and quickly realized that everything was sorted by years and that only within each year the files were sorted alphabetically. Muttering under his breath, he searched for the year 2003 and the letter S. There were only two thin papers, so avoiding removing them, he folded the edges slightly and immediately blessed the ridiculous rule for attaching and labeling everything an inch from the top left corner. "Smith, Anthony" and "Singer, Joanna." So it's not here!

He found Snape four rows away. He reached Liz's table, slipped between the shelves and found the subject "Spec - Wizengamot" and something jumped in it.

It's here! It must be here!

The year 2003 was only two inches long with only three document files. The description for the third, an inch from the upper left corner, said "S. Snape ".

Harry didn't hesitate for a second. He pulled out the entire bundle, sat down on the ground and opened the transparent cover.

At this point, the identification number A-113, the same one that was engraved on the badge, appeared on the edge of each document.

He found the Healer Johnson's testimony and forced himself to read it, event just brows through it. Next was the diagnosis report of Griffin's body, testimony from all the Powell's Potions Lab employees, Augie's analysis showing that there was nothing harmful in the chocolate stain and the decision to close the case. Nothing special.

Trembling with anticipation, he flipped over a sheet of parchment more than two feet long and found an analysis of the second chocolate stain. He read it once and then a second time.

Hermione clearly told him that she had brewed exactly the same poison, with three harmful ingredients. The report only talked about the bloodroot and suggested that the ingredient decomposes within hours of brewing the potion. According to Hermione, Snape detected a bloodroot in a stain from a day or two ago.

Maybe Hermione was wrong, Snape just used her and he created the poison, murdered his colleague and started murdering Muggles ... but if so, why didn't he get rid of Hermione? After all, he could have killed her with childish ease.

Because if it's not him ... and he discovered the ingredients by analyzing the first chocolate stain ...

But how could he do it a few days later when this Sanguinaria something disappears from the potion after just a few hours ... ?

He went back to Augie's previous report and compared them. Both must have been written by one and the same person.

Harry gritted his teeth unconsciously and turned the page.

The next was Snape's testimony from Monday's interrogation, followed by an Auror analysis, in which the following facts were established:

- the potion had to be brewed between seven and eight in the morning;

- at this time in the strictly guarded laboratory there was no one except the employees, as evidenced by the register at the Reception and no signs of break-in;

- knowledge at the level of a Potions Master was needed to create this completely unknown poison

Aurors requested that Severus Snape be indicted as the most suspect. At the same time, due to the nature of the case and the suspect, they applied for a secret, simplified procedure.

Shit, that was the most obvious conclusion. I would have applied for it myself. No public trial so that there is no public pressure on the Wizengamot. And Griselda represented Wizengamot ...

Poor Hermione.

With heavy sigh he turned the page and froze.

According to another document, on Tuesday, May 6, Paul Bryant and Roger White escorted Snape to Azkaban for an accelerated trial during which they gave detailed testimony.

THIS couldn't be true.

Maybe he wouldn't remember the date he was supposed to check for Hermione, if it weren't for the fact that Griselda died on the same day! According to what Roger and Paul wrote to Gavin, nothing special happened on Tuesday, May 6th! They didn't write a word about Snape being in custody in the Ministry! They didn't write that they escorted him to Azkaban and that they attended the trial! On which, after all, he was sentenced!

He turned the page with a sharp tug and found the sentence. He turned it over and saw another document. The decision on the execution of the sentence ...

"By Wizengamot's decision the Dementor's Kiss is to be executed on Friday, May 9, 2003 year.
Until the execution the prisoner is to remain in Prisoner's Cell."

Holy shit ... On Friday. For two days.

He had almost lost his doubts about Snape, now he was trying to figure out who, in add to Roger, Paul and Augie, was involved!

Obviously they accused him without reasons. And that's why they organized a trial in Azkaban, away from the wizarding world?

But if so, why Griselda didn't tell you anything when you saw each other just before noon? Because it was a secret trial? Maybe...

He knew with certainty that Roger and Paul alone would not have been able to organize a secret, simplified trial, neither Augie. That clearly indicated someone with highest position was behind it. Maybe they didn't write to Gawain about Snape because HE had forbidden them to write about it? And maybe somehow they put pressure on Griselda and then ...

At that moment there was a click of the door opening and a light went on in the Archives. Harry only had time to cast Nox, when some invisible hand lit his wand, the light went off and in the darkness all he could see was a dancing luminous spot that flowed towards him.

Two things flashed through Harry's mind. That this someone probably doesn't have an Invisibility Cloak, so he probably cast Disillusionment Charm. And that this someone doesn't have ... honest intentions.

And given the circumstances, he knew what this person had come for.

For the bloody files he was holding in his hand and being almost on the edge of the shelves, he couldn't light his wand to put it back in place.

And even if he could send it back with a spell, his number was now on the pages.

Having no choice, he rose to his knees as quietly as possible and retreated into the darkness…

North Sea, Azkaban

Midnight

Severus struggled to push Dumbledore's hand away. Dumbledore gripped his robes and pulled him toward him.

"You are a coward, Severus. I had to beg you so you did what you promised me to do" the old man grunted and laughed the madman's laugh. "I never thought you were afraid to kill. After all, you've killed before ...? You were afraid then, too?"

„Go away! Leave me! You are wrong, as always." He wanted to snort derisively, but in the silence surrounding him he heard only a soft moan.

Dumbledore disappeared, but another tormentor emerged from the darkness. Sirius Black. He walked over to him and Severus saw that he was wearing worn out, rotten clothes, a long beard and he was all dirty and skinny.

„You are a coward, Snivellus. You're pathetic" he whispered straight into his ear. "Look at me. I stayed here for over ten years. And you give up after a few weeks? After one day? I also suffered. Everything hurt, too. I was hungry and thirsty too and I was shivering from the cold and burning with fever at the same time."

„Get off me, Black. Go to your friend Potter" Severus tried to answer, but again a faint moan escaped his lips.

But Black heard him.

„My friend Potter is dead. You killed him. And you killed his wife. Do you remember Lily? This Lily you called Mudblood? You killed her too!"

Severus swung, grabbed Black by the throat and threw hundreds of yards up in one easy movement.

But he didn't even dare to think about Lily anymore. He had no right. Killers don't think about their victims. Instead, he tried to think about real life, to remember how the ingredients smelled, what the Hogwarts park looked like, how the sunrise looked like, which he will never see again.

He opened his eyes and the sun began to rise in front of him. He saw a hem slide out of the marble tombstone ... but something was wrong ...

The sun rose, but there was no color. Its rays did not warm. They were ... dead.

Suddenly the hands of the clock went crazy and started spinning in all directions. And there was a terrible noise. It was the clocks that began to chime, all in the same time. He could hear the noise within him, throbbing with pain bursting through his skull, throbbing in his hands and legs, in his chest. In the rhythm of his frantic heartbeat.