Disclaimer: Alas, Severus Snape is not mine; he belongs to J.K. Rowling, as do all other characters and wondrous things in the Harry Potter universe. There will be a few characters that are mine, but no profit is being made. They only want to play.

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Through the Flames Comes Destiny's Child

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Chapter 3: Snape's Trial Part 2

"My name is Hector Sizemore" he squeaked. "I'm here to represent the accused. I ha . . ."

"HOW DARE YOU MOCK THIS COURT" Rufus's face and neck had gone a mottled red with suppressed rage. How dare anyone interrupt his plans? His perfect play? For that's what it was - a carefully scripted play that he had created himself; had rehearsed in his mind until it was perfection.

That the sneaky bastard before him was innocent . . .well of course not innocent . . .but that he had been following Dumbledore's orders meant nothing to Scrimgeour. Oh, yes, he knew. Dumbledore had made sure of it, once the war was over. It changed nothing. The scum was still scum. A Death Eater and a murderer. And the old fool Albus was not here to protect him.

"Tell me, are you working alone, or did someone pay you to disrupt this court?" Rufus asked the quivering man.

For a minute Hector looked like he might just vanish into the floor, but then he swallowed audibly and squared his shoulders. Lifting his chin bravely (but I'm a Ravenclaw not a Gryffindor, he thought to himself) Hector replied, "I was hired by Harry Potter to defend the accused. I have irrefutable evidence that this man is innocent."

The crowd gasped at the mention of the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

If there was anyone who could turn the crowd against Rufus, it was the blasted Boy-Who-Refused-To-Go-Away.

"I see", Scrimgeour said in a low dangerous tone. "And just where is Harry Potter? If he is indeed, however unlikely it seems, offering testimony to defend this prisoner, then he will need to be questioned by this court." And I can discredit him based on his unstable emotions.

Sizemore's shoulders slumped for a moment. "Harry Potter could not be here today, Minister. He had a prior engagement that could not be rescheduled." Even to his own ears, the excuse sounded lame. It did not bode well that the only person offering testimony in the defense refused to even attend the trial much less speak on the defendant's behalf.

Hector spared a glance at the defendant, noting that Snape had not moved a muscle save for some remaining tremors that caused a slight ripple throughout his body from time to time. He had given no indication that he even knew what was going on around him.

This close up, Snape looked like a breathing corpse. The memory came, unbidden, of this same man 19 years ago. The memory had etched itself in the then 13 year-old Hector's mind, in the way all traumatizing events did. He could still see with vivid clarity the green and red flashes of the wandfights; could still smell the stench of burning flesh and hear the screams of the villagers as they were tortured senselessly.

But he, his 8-year old sister, and his parents had gotten lucky. His parents, both muggles who had brought Hector to the village to visit some friends over summer break, were sitting targets for the Death Eaters. When a tall, dark-haired one had swept down on them, wand raised and shouting the killing curse, they had gripped each other in fear. But the curse had missed, killing another Death Eater who had come up behind them, unseen.

Years later, Hector could barely remember the events that followed. He had been dimly aware of the menacing man herding them into a burnt-out building where a massive fireplace still stood eerily blazing. Their captor had discarded his mask and Hector had found himself staring transfixed at a fairly young sallow-skinned, hook nosed man as he fumbled in a pocket searching for something. He remembered the man had thrown something into the fire, had shouted a name he couldn't remember, and then had shoved each of them into the fire.

They had all thought that they were going to be burnt alive, so it came as quite a surprise when they had found themselves in an apothecary's shop in Diagon Alley. How they got from there to the Auror's Headquarters, Hector could not remember. What he did remember, was the wooden-legged man with the spinning eyeball dismissing their story of being saved by a Death Eater as purely hallucinatory; they had obviously been in shock and somehow had managed to escape on their own. Hector must have somehow known about floo powder and been able to use it to get them to safety. And none too soon, by wooden-leg man's account. Aurors had arrived shortly after their departure, to find a Death Eater near the fireplace where they had flooed from. He had gotten away, but one of the aurors was confident that his hex had found its target, a fact confirmed by the large amount of blood that trailed from the building.

Hector's parents had believed this tale of the events, and so did Hector after awhile. It was easier than the confusion of why a Death Eater had saved them. And it had made Hector a hero, for a short time, anyway.

But now, looking at Snape, Hector knew the truth. This man had saved his life and the lives of his parents and sister. Whether or not he was a spy at that time didn't matter to Hector. He had a debt to repay.

Walking the short distance to stand in front of the Minister, Hector turned to face the crowd. "This man has saved countless lives, working as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization whose mission it was to counteract the attacks of the Death Eaters and to defeat He-Who-Still-Must-Not-Be-Named. I have here written evidence of his fight for the Light, and a testimony by Albus Dumbledore who, by the way, was NOT murdered by this man, but who sacrificed himself for the good of the cause, much the same as this man has sacrificed most of his life."

Damn, he hadn't known he had it in him. But it felt so good, to finally take a stand and do what he knew was right. Hector felt a warmth flow through him and knew his parents would be proud.

The crowd had erupted into a melee of such proportions that it took Rufus ten whole minutes and most of his vocal cords to get them under control again. Those who sat nearby would later remark on the many shades of red that colored his face and neck. After the umpteenth roar and a furious searing glare, the crowd finally quieted enough for Rufus to be heard.

"Let me get this straight" Rufus said in a patronizing tone. He had to be very careful now. He had no delusions that the crowd would ditch him in a minute if he was seen to be against Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore. Election Day was coming within the year, and up till now it was still his for the taking. This trial was to be his campaign's glorious trophy. Yes, he must be very careful indeed.

Deftly forcing his voice into a tone of puzzlement, he continued. "You say you have been hired by Harry Potter to defend this known Death Eater. As I recall, Harry Potter was an eyewitness to the murder, that he in fact saw this Death Eater kill Albus Dumbledore in cold blood. His testimony is already on record for the prosecution. You must excuse me if I seem a bit confused by your statement, Mr. Sizemore".

"Of course, Minister. That was before he knew of their plan. Harry Potter, that is. Before Harry knew of the plan between Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape, he thought, Harry did, that Professor Snape had indeed killed Headmaster Dumbledore, but learned later that he, Headmaster Dumbledore had asked Professor Snape to kill him in order to prove his loyalty to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and to save two students, namely Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Sizemore gulped for air; that hadn't come out like it should have. Damn, but Scrimgeour intimidated the hell out of him. He glanced back at Snape and drew strength from a man who had to have had nerves of steel to do what he did, knowing that this would be his only reward. I need to get a grip, he thought to himself. I won't let it end this way. This man deserves better than this. He thought of all those in the Order, who now knew the truth but still would not come forth to support this man, and his anger flared.

"Harry Potter has officially rescinded is previous testimony. I believe, Minister, that this letter and memory phial will explain everything adequately", Hector said in a confident tone.

Rufus nodded stiffly. He could not with good cause refuse the evidence. He would just have to wait and see how he could manipulate the results to his benefit.

Hector pulled open the letter and cleared his throat. This letter is dated 1st, October, 1998. It is addressed to Harry Potter and reads as follows:

My dear Harry,

If you are reading this, then certain things have come to pass as I knew they must, and I must inform you of the truth of certain matters. As I am dead, and cannot do so in person, I would like to first say that I have loved you as a grandfather loves his grandson, irrevocably and unconditionally, no matter what you have done or will do in the future. Harry, please remember the power of love. It is the greatest source of power in the universe, and can overcome anything that hatred throws in its path.

Secondly, Harry, is that you must learn to trust Professor Snape. I realize this statement will cause an outrage, because you may well believe that Professor Snape was the one who murdered me. The truth, Harry is that I was dying anyway from the curse on Salazar's ring. One is not often fortunate enough to get to choose between Destiny and Fate, but I chose Fate and in so doing ensured Professor Snape's Destiny. You must overcome your hatred of him, Harry, if you have any hope at all of defeating Tom. You see, Harry, Professor Snape killed me because I ordered him to do it. At least I trust him to do so. Trust, Harry, is almost as powerful as love and can bring about the most extraordinary results when placed in deserving hands. And Professor Snape has and always will be deserving of my trust. I love him like a son, but, as he believes himself to be undeserving of that particular emotion, has instead accepted my trust, and I know that he would rather die than to let me down.

Which, of course, is what would have happened if he had had his way. He made an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa in an effort to protect Draco and also to prove his loyalty to Tom since he was under suspicion at all times of being a traitor. Killing me will put him in good standing within the Inner Circle once again, although he protested vehemently. He does not see the importance of his own role, but he is as vital to our success as are you, Harry.

Professor Snape has risked everything to fight for the Light, and now his future lies in your hands. I trust your skills in Occlumency to keep his true loyalties secret as so many lives depend on it. I also am going to entrust you with clearing his name when this war is over. I am the only one, besides you now, who knows the truth. The memory phial is mine and contains two separate memories - one when Severus came to me to tell me of the Unbreakable Vow he had made and our subsequent discussion, and another memory from later in the year when he came to me arguing against going through with what we had planned. Make sure the Wizengamot see these - they will be able to vouch that they are indeed real. I trust you to follow my orders in this matter.

And now, Harry, I must go. Do not mourn me as I am off to the next grand adventure, and have been looking most forward to it.

Take care Harry, and remember what I told you about Love.

Yours Always,

Albus

In a room filled with several hundred people, the ensuing silence was deafening. But then, a low drone grew into an earsplitting rumble as several hundred people all started talking at once.

Above it all, a familiar roar and the banging of a gavel quieted the audience.

The new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement came forward, followed by two aurors to examine the letter and the phials. After several minutes and much wand waving, the evidence was declared authentic.

Rufus glared darkly at Hector, but before he could say anything, the balding man had transfigured a box into a table and pulled out a miniature pensive from a hidden coat pocket. Tapping his wand once on the tiny object produced the original sized version which he placed on the table.

The crowd held its collective breath as Hector emptied the first phial into the pensive. The wand played over the surface again as Hector muttered the spell for the memory to rise out of the pensive and play like a hologram for all to see.

The memory began in the dungeons of Hogwarts. An efficient work area had been set up in the shape of a U. Five steaming cauldrons sat in a row on one side, each one burping identical iridescent bubbles. Three more sat opposite these, apparently simmering. At the end were two more cauldrons, one of which was bronze, the other copper. In the middle was Snape, who glided from one cauldron to another, checking and stirring before gliding over to another table to chop a bluish leafed plant into perfect half-inch squares.

Albus Dumbledore stood unobtrusively by the door, a slight smile playing about his lips as he watched the other wizard. Only when Snape turned around to add the cut-up plant to the copper cauldron did the younger wizard notice his audience. Frowning slightly, he acknowledged the Headmaster with a slight nod before once more concentrating on the potions at hand. Several more minutes of stirring and adding three more ingredients to the bronze cauldron passed before he lowered the flames and set both cauldrons to simmer.

"My apologies, Headmaster", said Snape as he made his way over to the older wizard. "I could not leave the Blood-Replenishing Potion at that stage. It will be another 2 hours and 13 minutes before needing my attention again."

"Nonsense, my dear boy. It is always a privilege to watch you brew. I fear I shall never tire of it", the Headmaster said with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eyes. "It is I who should apologize for disrupting your work. You seem to have a lot going on at the moment", he said, glancing at the many simmering cauldrons.

"Just trying to get ahead a little on stocking the supplies for the infirmary".

"But I thought Madam Pomfrey said all her stocks were filled already. She made the comment that this is the earliest she has ever been ready for the new school year."

"That is true", Snape replied in his deep baritone, looking away from the headmaster. "However, I thought it best if we perhaps stockpile a few of the more vital potions - the ones that can be prepared ahead of time anyway. I am still experimenting with ways to preserve the more time-sensitive potions. I believe that would have a huge positive impact for our infirmary, as well as St. Mungo's. Especially now during the war, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, of course", murmured Dumbledore. "But why are you stockpiling potions? You are still our Potions Master even though you will be teaching Defense this year. I have made that clear to Professor Slughorn. While I am aware he is quite capable, I much prefer you to do our brewing if needed. He knows that you will still be using your lab."

Snape fidgeted a little before swallowing hard and replying with downcast eyes. "I just thought it might be a good idea . . . if things start to escalate . . .the Dark Lord . . .I just want to be prepared in case I am busy with 'other' duties."

Albus looked intently at his professor for a minute before nodding. "That is wise. Although, even though I said I would prefer you over Horace, I do understand that you have much on your plate. Your brewing has always seemed a calming retreat for you, but if it becomes too much, surely Horace is capable of brewing anything we need?"

Severus looked up at the Headmaster and met his eyes for the first time. "He has never brewed Wolfsbane. He is competent for most brews you will require, but I do not think he is capable of brewing Wolfsbane for Lupin. I wanted to speak with you about this. I believe either Granger or Zabini could be competent enough to handle the Wolfsbane if taught privately and given time to practice regularly. I believe both would be open to the idea of learning. I would like to teach them, with your permission."

"I do not see any reason why they could not, as long as they were willing, which I suspect both would be. Especially Miss Granger, knowing who the potion is for. But I trust this is a contingency only - that you plan to continue brewing the potion." The headmaster spoke softly, with a touch of a gentle reprimand in his voice. "You know how much Remus needs it."

Snape took a deep breath and nodded almost imperceptibly. "It is only a precaution - you know my position - many within the Inner Circle do not trust me. The Dark Lord does at the moment, but that can change with the wind. I just would like to be prepared in case something should happen to me." He frowned then and looked away, pursing his lips as if he had said too much.

Albus studied the man before him, blue eyes seeking the black depths of the other, but Snape avoided eye contact.

"Severus", Albus began tentatively. "What has happened?"

"Nothing"

"Severus . . .look at me. Tell me."

The proud man before him suddenly slumped visibly and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Albus. I have failed you."

"You can never fail me, child. Tell me."

"Headmaster . . .I . . .I have done something . . .I made a mistake . . . I", he swallowed, shook his head, and took a steadying breath. "I made an Unbreakable Vow. To Narcissa, with Bellatrix as our bonder. They came to me; Narcissa was frantic about Draco being set a task that he would not survive. I agreed to help him . . . and to complete it myself if Draco cannot. I did not know what the task was until after I had made the Vow. A very stupid thing to do, I'll admit - not the first, although hopefully my last".

"I see", Dumbledore said slowly, looking thoughtfully at the younger wizard before him and then surveying the simmering cauldrons as though seeing them for the first time. "Severus - you cannot run from an Unbreakable Vow. Whatever the task is, you will have to carry through with it. It cannot be all that bad, can it? Nothing that we cannot circumvent?"

Snape barked out a half-crazed laugh. "Oh, yes. It is that bad, Albus". Snape's voice broke and dropped to a whisper. "Albus, his task is to kill you".

Albus sighed and stroked his beard. Several long minutes passed while the Headmaster contemplated the news of his upcoming assassination while the potions master paced nervously back and forth.

Finally the Headmaster came out of his reverie and followed Snape's pacing with solemn blue eyes. "Well . . . we both knew that this would happen someday. We will just have to make the most of what time we have left and plan accordingly. Death is, after all, only the beginning of the next Great Adventure."

Severus had stopped his pacing and stood with his back toward the Headmaster. He stiffened visibly at the Headmaster's words and clutched the edge of the desk in front of him as if for support. "I am not afraid of death, Albus", he ground out, head bowed, his face hidden by a curtain of black hair. " And yes, I have always known it would come to this. I am merely sorry that you and the Order will no longer have a spy in the Inner Circle to provide information. That I will no longer be able to help the side of the Light". The words came out haltingly, barely above a whisper. "I am not afraid of death, Albus", he repeated. "I had just hoped to have more time . . .I am not as excited about the next 'Great Adventure' as are you . . . I have not done enough . . .I could never do enough . . ."

Snape tensed as a hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Severus . . . my dear boy . . .you misunderstand", Albus began softly, turning Snape gently to face him. Another hand came, gently cupping the younger wizard's chin so that the older wizard was looking into the dulled black orbs of the younger. "I did not mean you. It is I who will be taking this journey."

The potions master looked uncomprehendingly at Dumbledore before rasping out "what do you mean?"

"I mean, Severus, that you will follow through with your oath. That you will kill me. Young Draco is certainly not up to the task, I daresay."

"Of course he's not", barked Snape, dull eyes instantly flashing angrily. "He is not nor ever will be a murderer. He does not have it in him. He's not like his father. Or me."

"You are not like Lucius".

Snape turned away abruptly. "But I am a murderer, nonetheless", he said, staring blankly at the desk in front of him.

"Not in your heart, Severus. Never has it been in your heart."

"We have had this conversation many times, old man", Severus sneered, turning his head to look at Albus, and then looking away again. "It has never changed the fact of what I am. Of what I have done."

"What you have done, my boy, has taken great courage and strength. You have saved countless lives . . ."

"I have taken countless lives", interrupted Snape angrily. I have killed, murdered, maimed how many? You told me when I came crawling back to you that I could redeem myself. Instead of a Dementor's Kiss, you offered salvation." Snape's flashing black eyes narrowed. "But how many have I killed since joining your side? For what? Mercy killings when they had been tortured? Killing one for the good of the many? It matters not. Their blood is on my hands. I can never do enough to make up for what I have done. I know where I am going after I die - to an eternity of damnation . . . and I deserve it!"

The dark man tensed again as the Headmaster's hand squeezed his shoulder a second time. "There will be a day, Severus, that you will be at peace with yourself; that you will finally see yourself as I do. Your soul will heal", Albus said softly, warmth spreading through every word. "You have struggled hard, and suffered much. And, I am so very, very sorry that I have to add to your torment."

Severus turned to face the Headmaster, a scowl on his pale face. "I am sorry, Albus that I made such a Vow. It was thoughtless. But I am prepared".

"Prepared to do what?" Albus asked with an air of bemusement.

"I am prepared to die", Severus ground out. "I will make as much as I can of the po - "

"You will do no such thing", Albus interrupted, shaking his head. "Didn't you understand - I am asking you to follow through with your oath. I am asking you to kill me - well, not right now", he said with a dry chuckle at Snape's horrified expression. "Actually, this will work out for the best, really. It will definitely force Harry to assume more responsibility. And it will place you in a better position within Voldemort's Inner Circle."

"Albus!" Severus boomed. "There is no way in hades that I could do that! You are far too important . . . I could never . . . how could you even think such a thing?"

"Severus", Albus began firmly, his expression serious. "You know what time I have left. This is only circumstance coinciding with fate."

"You are not going to die, Albus", Snape growled harshly. "There is still time. I still have all of Pratha's research on the effects of invasive dark curses to go through. There is a good chance that . . ."

He stopped talking as the old Headmaster shook his head, saying "no, my boy - you know as well as I do - there is no saving me from this" and he held up a blackened skeletal hand. "Do you think I would not rather go by the hand of a dear friend, and have my going used for the good of the Order, or waste away until I am powerless and my condition detrimental to the cause?"

Snape passed a hand over his face, looking suddenly very tired, his face etched in harsh lines made him appear much older than his years.

"You are much too important, Headmaster", he said shakily. "The Order needs you. Your knowledge, your guidance . . . They will surely fail without you".

"You are more important than I, my boy. Your position gives us invaluable knowledge. Aside from their plans, you know how to read them; what they are most likely to do, how they will react to our own actions."

Snape's expression darkened and he bit out "of course I do - I am one of them!" He turned away from the Headmaster's sad eyes. "And just how do you propose I get this vital information to the Order? You are the only one that trusts me, Headmaster. They would kill me on sight."

"We will find a way, my boy. We will find a way".

"Albus . . .", the dark man turned to the Headmaster with a pleading look in his eyes. "I cannot do this", he whispered. "Please don't make me do this. What you are asking of me . . . it will kill me".

The white bearded wizard looked thoughtfully at the anguished potions master before him. Finally he said gently, "I trust you, Severus Snape, and always have, to do the right thing. The thing that will, in the end, be for the good of our world. You know in your heart that I am right."

The memory ended as the Headmaster turned away from a trembling Snape, ostensibly leaving the dungeons.

Hector looked around at the crowd of paled faces, noticing with satisfaction the wetness on many. The memory had shaken them to the core. As for Scrimgeour . . .

He looked murderous. Hector quickly fumbled with the second memory phial and emptied it into the basin without further ado.

The second memory was rather anticlimactic. It showed the Potions Master and the Headmaster of Hogwarts arguing in a shaded spot that must have been somewhere between Hogsmeade and the castle. The heated words and angry gestures could not belie the concern that radiated from each other's eyes towards the other. The argument was much the same as in the previous memory, and only served to verify the obvious.

Severus Snape had not killed the Headmaster on his own accord - as a Death Eater. He had been asked - ordered in the last memory - to do it by Albus Dumbledore himself.

Silence descended on the crowd as they waited for the Minister's reaction.

Scrimgeour, his face purple and jaw muscle working overtime, stood slowly. "The Wizengamot will convene in executive session to reach a verdict", he said tersely, his mind buzzing with how to gain back control.

Hector found he had been holding his breath and began sucking air into his lungs with raspy, trembling breaths. A marked change in the atmosphere made him fairly confident that the Minister could do nothing but exonerate the professor now. Where the crowd had looked at the accused man with contempt before, now there were looks of pity.

He took a step towards the man still bound to the chair, wanting to speak encouragement to the dark man, but Snape had not blinked once during the viewing of the memories. He looked for all the world like pictures Hector had seen of wizards after being Kissed by a Dementor.

Hector shivered. Were they too late to save him?

AN: Nothing original here, I know. Mostly another rendition of the same theory most Snape fans have of Dumbledore's murder. Purely for backstory purposes. Another chapter or two of backstory before we move foreward.

Sorry for the delay. Around the end of January, I went to see the stage production of Phantom of the Opera and developed a new obsession. I have since read both the Leroux original (skimmed the day before seeing the play and read carefully twice through since) and Kay's version (almost done, but I've read the ending twice already and cried both times) and watched the 2004 movie. Played the soundtrack endlessly for about a month. And of course - have been searching through fan fiction looking for good Phan Phics. I think the disease is under control now. Not completely cured, but recovering. Like an addict.

I think it would make a hilariously good fic to bring the Phantom to Hogwarts to meet Severus. They have so much in common; Erik and Snape would make a great team, even though they would probably never trust each other. I see lots of snark. Maybe someday, someone will oblige me.