Chapter Five Dumbledore's Trust

"Are you going to kill me, Potter?" Snape asked calmly, now and then glancing at the still unconscious Draco. The man was sitting on the floor across from the still figure of the boy.

Harry felt the full force of his fury rising up hard in his chest and throat as he stared at the man's face. What he had overheard had confused him but had not dampened his desire for revenge and to purge himself of his frustration and anger. "Eventually," he managed to sputter.

Snape grunted and laughed humorously. "Eventually! Why not do it now? You know you want to."

Harry pointed his wand at Snape's wand which he still grasped in the damaged burned hand. It was blistered and still smoldering. "Toss that away!"

Snape threw it and grimaced slightly at moving the injured appendage. "If you kill me it will be the last chance you have at getting near the Dark Lord. That's what you want isn't it, Potter? To kill him?"

Harry smiled his own false smile at Snape. "You already know the answer to that. You also know it will be almost next impossible to kill him. Are you hoping I will try so he'll kill me instead. Or were you hoping to do it yourself?"

Harry paced the edge of the room, never taking his eyes from the figure of his old professor sitting on the floor. " I should kill you on principle alone, not that I think you have any value alive or dead. Perhaps it will be better to let you live and let you face the Wizengamot for Albus Dumbledore's murder. I only wish you could spend as much personal time with a Dementor as Sirius did. If I have anything to say about it you will. You see Snape, I want you to suffer." Harry stepped around him avoiding the eyes. He had been practicing Occlumency for just such an occasion, but was not sure of his ability against someone as skilled as Snape.

Snape's eyes strove to catch his own. Harry knew what he wanted to do and kept his head turned. Snape spoke. "I was at Hogwarts that night, but I did not kill Albus. I went to prevent Draco from making a mistake. I arrived much later. The school was in an uproar and Albus was already dead. All I could do was save Draco."

Harry turned slightly, but did not look at him. Instead, he was staring at the prone figure of Draco.

Snape continued, "I could have killed you at any time. It was the Dark Lord who has been at Hogwarts from the beginning of term, not I." Snape was speaking quietly.

"Why should I believe anything you say?" Harry snarled. "We both hate each other. There is nothing you could say that I would believe, nothing that would give me reason to think I could trust you."

"I hope you are not going to act stupidly, Potter," Snape said with the familiar sneer in his voice. "We must do something before Draco wakes. The Dark Lord has possessed him. If he wakes he will be very dangerous."

Harry continued to look away from Snape while he listened. Only now, he looked at the person at his feet, feeling almost as much contempt and anger towards Draco as he felt towards Snape. "Then speak quickly Snape." This time he did turn and look at the man.

Snape was resting against a chair holding his injured arm. The look on his face was unreadable. Harry continued, "You expect me to believe you are not Voldemort's Deatheater, you didn't kill Albus and that you want Voldemort dead. That's a lot to swallow without proof positive."

Snape frowned slightly. "Do you know what a Horcrux is Potter?"

This time it was Harry's turn to be surprised. It must have shown in his face.

"Ah, I see you do," Snape said. "Yes, Albus told you many things didn't he? Well, what lies at your feet is a Horcrux. The Dark Lord did not intend for Draco to kill Albus. He took the Polyjuice potion and took my place so he could be in a position to accomplish two goals. One was to kill a powerful wizard, Dumbledore; and by doing so create a Horcrux. That is what lies at your feet. His Horcrux"

Harry forced himself to not step back and away from Draco. He looked at Snape again and without thinking asked, "And, do you know about the others?"

"Others?" Snape responded and then a light went on in his dark eyes. "There are more than one?" He leaned back into the chair, seeming to collapse in on himself with his astonishment. "More than one!" he gasped.

Harry bit his lip at having given the information away. He pointed his wand at Snape and hissed, "I will not let you leave the room with this information until I know you did not kill Albus."

They stared at each other until a moan erupted from Draco.

Snape seemed to realize the precariousness of the situation more quickly. "Did Dumbledore ever tell you why he trusted me when everyone else did not?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes squinting at the man.

Snape began to stand and Harry directed his wand at him again. "Slowly," he ordered.

Snape eased himself to his feet, holding on to the edge of the chair and glancing at Draco. "We have very little time, Potter."

"Go on with what you were saying. I don't think I have to tell you to hurry." Harry kicked at Draco's leg and there was a resounding moan.

Snape's good hand stretched out. "Don't, don't do that!" He steadied himself and looked at Harry. "My mother was a teacher at Hogwarts. She was the Potion's master. My parent's lived there when I was born. Dumbledore was the transfiguration's teacher. I was still very young when it happened, but it caused a scandal and was hushed up."

Harry was holding his breath. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Snape had to say that might absolve him of his previous actions. Harry wanted to hate him and wanted him to be the target of his anger. But he also wanted to know what had driven Dumbledore to stand up for this man against everything everyone else believed. The turmoil was twisting his guts and he prodded Draco with his foot again when Snape hesitated.

"What everyone believes is that my mother killed my muggle father. You saw...in the Pensieve... what he did to me," Snape spit the words out. A look of sheer disgust was in his face. Harry didn't know if it was telling the tale or telling it to him that had put the look there. "She was sent to Azkaban. Dumbledore went to her trial and stood up for her, told them her muggle husband was abusing her and her son, and she had killed him to protect herself and me. He could not keep them from sending her to Azkaban. They were sympathetic, but it did not stop them from sending her to prison. It was because of the way my father died."

Harry frowned. The way he died, he thought and considered the undertones he heard in Snape's voice. It made him shiver. The way he died, he said to himself again.

"You should be familiar with the curse she used Potter," Snape hissed. "You used it on Draco."

"Sectumsempra," Harry mumbled, once again feeling the horror of what he had experienced when he had cut Malfoy to ribbons in the girls bathroom using a spell written on the edge of the potion's book.

Snape nodded. "Yes."

"But that was dark magic," Harry managed. "Your mother..."

He didn't finish when Snape broke in. "My mother was one of the first Deatheaters. She was a follower of Tom Riddle before he became the Dark Lord. He liked to collect people who were insecure...followers of others... victims. She was one of his professor's and she thought he was brilliant. He, in turn, recognized her weakness, her victimization at the hands of my father. She was an accomplished potion's maker as you learned. He wanted skilled people around him and she proved very useful." The last he said with a snort.

"The potion's book belonged to her!" Harry started.

"Yes."

Harry was busy sorting through the information when he felt Draco stir again. "So Albus Dumbledore tried to help your mother. How does that prove you trustworthy?"

"I became a Deatheater at a very young age and with my mother's assistance," Snape continued. "I learned many skills at her hands and with the guidance of my 'uncle'."

Harry gasped again and spat out, "Voldemort!"

Snape bowed his head slightly and then said, "Dumbledore trusted me because he kept a secret for me, one that kept me in his debt; and eventually one which allowed me to trust him when I could trust no other. He never threatened me or used the information. I grew to believe that he genuinely cared about me. I would never have betrayed Albus Dumbledore."

Harry remained silent. Snape knew he must divulge the secret or he would never believe him.

"The only people who knew the truth were my mother, Albus Dumbledore and..." Snape sagged and the last word came out in a whisper, "Voldemort."

"Where is your mother?" Harry asked. "Is she still in Azkaban?" If she were, he thought, she would be almost as old as McGonagall or as old as Dumbledore had been.

"He killed her, of course," Snape had regained a little composure and said it as if they were in the classroom and Harry had asked a stupid question. "He did not want anyone around who knew the truth. He was the only witness. He thought it made me his servant forever. If I believed that Albus would never reveal the truth, I knew for certain Tom Riddle would if it served his purpose."

"And what was the truth, Snape?" Harry asked.

"I killed my own father. I was the one who cut him to pieces."

….

Harry sat in the hotel room and the words ran through his mind once again. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. Vivid pictures of what it must have been like flooded his mind. Snape had only been a very young child when he saw him being abused in the Pensieve. He must have killed his father not long after.

Harry could imagine his distraught mother running to Riddle, talking to him as a confident. Harry remembered the well-oiled, controlled Tom Riddle he had seen in the memories Albus had shown him. The one where Slughorn, another teacher, had been fascinated with the boy.

Voldemort, ever one to take advantage of the situation, had used the information and acquired a lifelong dedicated servant- Snape. It was to Snape's credit that he had not become a true Deatheater. Harry was still wondering if he had been deceived by a master of deception when a knock came to the door.

"Who is it?" he asked through the oak.

"It's me," a faint, muffled familiar voice said.

Harry pressed his face against the door and closed his eyes. "You gave me the Polyjuice Potion and I turned into someone. Who was it?"

"Goyle," came the reply.

He sighed with relief. It had felt lonely in the room, separated from the world and his friends. There was one person he'd been wishing he could talk to and she stood on the other side of the door. "Are you alone?" he asked, anxious to open the door.

"The other one was Crabb and he's with me now," she answered.

Harry smiled. That meant Ron. He opened the door and reached out as she encircled him with her arms. "Hermione! Ron!"