Chapter Five: With the man in the wind
Despite their rocky introduction in the Headmaster's Office on his arrival the previous January, the older wizard had been civil to Severus. Robert Crouch had originally come to assist the Headmaster and his Deputy during the former's final illness, and, from all accounts, he had been a surprisingly effective Transfiguration teacher even under the circumstances that had brought him into the position with Minerva's elevation to Headmistress following Dumbledore's death in March. Severus had also heard no criticisms of the wizard as a Defence teacher this year, either, even though he questioned his Slytherins closely. It even irked him that the man appeared to have no favourites and treated the Slytherins just as he did all the other students. In fact, the annoying former apothecary seemed to have an uncanny knack with the students, knowing how to treat each of them in order to get their best work and their best behaviour. What was most irritating, however, was the way in which he had insinuated himself into the Headmistress's life. Severus felt there was something unsavoury there, irrespective of the fact that the two had known each other for more than four decades.
The man slunk about the castle, too often appearing in the shadows behind the Headmistress, always seeming to speak in a near-whisper, and seemingly incapable of any emotion stronger than mild amusement. Severus could not imagine how this person could possibly teach Defence Against the Dark Arts—and certainly not as well as he himself had the year before. Yet his Slytherins had no complaints whatsoever, and that was perhaps the most suspicious thing about him of all. If it hadn't been for what he had learned of the wizard's background on that cold, bright afternoon in early January when they were both waiting for Dumbledore to arrive in his office, Severus would have believed him to be one of the Dark Lord's followers, perhaps even sent to spy on him.
Sitting there now in the meeting with the Headmistress discussing Potter's future, Severus bit back a caustic remark about the Defence teacher's abilities and experience and remembered what the older wizard had told him that day in the Headmaster's Office months before: that his father had been killed by Grindelwald, and his mother, attacked and permanently injured by Voldemort's Death Eaters. Severus shivered at the memory. . . .
"Yes, my father, brave Gryffindor that he was, spoke against Grindelwald, and Grindelwald killed him personally. That was in nineteen thirty-five." The stranger's words were careful and precise but oddly accented, the speech of an English expatriate who had spent almost his entire life abroad, man and boy, rarely speaking his mother-tongue. "Then in nineteen seventy-nine, my mother was targeted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-in-the-Presence-of-One-Who-Bears-His-Mark. But you knew that." The grey eyes were unnerving in their direct gaze, and the use of the decades-old and almost-forgotten circumlocution to refer to the Dark Lord raised a chill up Severus's spine.
Severus racked his brain, trying to think of a Crouch whom the Dark Lord had targeted—any Crouch at any time during his first rise—but he could think of none. On seeing Severus's expression, the apothecary had smiled thinly.
"You knew her, too. And she knew you." The wizard's voice was soft, almost caressing.
Severus still did not know what the man was talking about, but the tone in his voice caused an unaccustomed clenching in his gut, a peculiar fear that had nothing to do with physical danger.
"She taught you, and she would have recognised you . . . anywhere." The words were almost a whisper.
"I don't know what you are talking about. You must be confused," Severus said. "I never had a teacher named Crouch." But even as he said these words, Severus did remember a teacher, a teacher who had recognised him. A teacher who had recognised him when he had failed to kill her. Whose attempt to flee he had impeded . . . until a wave of shame had overwhelmed him, and he had finally let her go, dropping the Anti-Apparition wards, but only after she had been grievously injured, perhaps fatally so. He swallowed. "I don't know what you are talking about," he repeated.
"My mother was an accomplished Arithmancer; she taught Arithmancy at Hogwarts until she retired in nineteen seventy-six." The wizard's gaze never wavered.
"Gamp," Severus croaked, and the memory flooding back to him of the old witch, gloriously defiant, battling with a ferocity he had not believed possible from her, and almost defeating the four Death Eaters whom the Dark Lord had sent to kill her—all four of them wizards whom she had taught.
A blood-traitor and Muggle-lover, the Dark Lord had called her, and an ally of Dumbledore. It was one of the memories Severus had packed, stowed, locked, and sequestered safely away from his everyday life at Hogwarts as a Hogwarts teacher who walked the same halls that she had once walked and who taught beside those whom she had once called friends and colleagues. One of the many evils he had seen and done, one of those evils for which he had sought atonement when he had finally, and too late, repented his allegiance and sought out the Headmaster. But it had not even been on her account that he had turned away from the Dark Lord, despite the feeling of sickness that had arisen in him at the sight of her wand arm, separated from her body yet still twitching, and which arose in him even on that day in early January when he met her son Robert for the first time.
"And she had thought she lost everything when her husband was killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-in-the-Presence-of-One-Who-Bears-His-Mark," Robert had continued quietly. "But she lost still more that day, even unto being forced into exile so that she could not be found again."
"But—your father—"
"Was killed by Grindelwald. Then she found happiness with another, after many years. But he was a brave Gryffindor, too, and not one to shirk his duty. He was killed before you left Hogwarts. You wouldn't remember Malcolm McGonagall or his assassination the day before his wedding anniversary. You were still a student," Crouch said softly, "though you would not have observed Minerva's grief, as her brother was murdered in July. The July before your . . . seventh year, I believe."
Severus sat there, and had he been stunned before, he was sickened by this revelation. In all the years he had taught at Hogwarts, he had never heard mention of a McGonagall killed by the Dark Lord, nor had he heard of it from any of his fellow Death Eaters, though he did not know all that occurred even now, and certainly not everything that had happened prior to his taking the Mark. And yet Minerva had never mentioned it, either. Of all that she had forgiven him . . . how could she have done it? It was hardly any wonder that the forgiveness and affection had evaporated after he had told her of his Vow and Dumbledore's plan. The greater wonder was that she had ever forgiven him at all.
And now here he was, sitting beside Severus in the Headmaster's Office on a brightly frozen day in January more than a decade later, and in her son's grey eyes, Severus could see the witch whom he could not kill, the witch who had been married to Minerva's murdered brother, the witch who had vanished, never to reappear after that day.
"Yes, Gamp," responded Crouch with a slow nod. "Uncle Albus told me that they could not kill her easily, that she almost defeated them, but that one Death Eater, one who could not kill her, that one Death Eater impeded her long enough that she lost almost all that was left her in life but life itself, and then . . . and then the Death Eater let her go. Uncle Albus said that he had been her student, too. Was it mercy that drove him, or was it cruelty?"
Severus had no answer for the quiet wizard. He could only have admitted to a kind of cowardice, which was repugnant no matter what side one was on, and which certainly was nothing to boast of, even if it had saved an innocent witch's life. She had already taken several curses, but stood fast, when Severus lopped off her wand arm. There had actually been some amusement in him as he had done it; a clever thing, he thought it. But then he saw the blood rushing from the witch's shoulder as she slumped to the ground, yet still able somehow to grab on to her wand with her left hand, taking it from her own severed limb. She had looked up at him. He had seen her eyes. He felt ill and ashamed, not powerful, not clever. He slashed his own wand through the air, dropping the Anti-Apparition wards, sure that the witch was a dead woman, certain she would be unable to escape even with the wards down, but she closed her eyes, held her bloody wand to her chest, and Disapparated. Until that day when he met Robert Crouch, Severus had believed it at least as likely that the Gamp witch was dead as that she had survived.
And less than nine months after that unsettling introduction in the Headmaster's Office, that wizard who had so easily stepped into the Transfiguration position in the spring, who was now teaching Defence to his Slytherins in his former classroom, who followed the Headmistress about like a silent shadow, whose appearance had made Severus's gut clench, whose words had brought a chill to his spine, and whose constant presence reminded him of all that he wished to escape, that wizard was sitting there behind him in the gloomy sitting room, telling him that he disagreed with his estimation of Potter's skills. And Severus acquiesced.
He nodded sharply in the older wizard's direction. "The Headmaster always had faith in Potter, too. I hope you are correct. But that still leaves the fact that he must take a decisive step forward; he cannot continue as he has."
In his peculiarly accented speech, the Defence teacher said, "I believe that Minerva has articulated our approach and that you are best suited to the task, Professor."
Severus turned fully to face him, and he could sense Minerva's own puzzlement. "And that approach would be?"
"You will get him to leave school permanently. Force the choice on him. Not precisely reverse psychology, but if Mr Potter believes you wish to hinder his ability to carry on as he has and is presented with the alternative that we wish him to take . . . his dislike of you may be the final push that he needs. Uncle Albus's death was insufficient, despite his hope that it would lead the boy to take the first steps on his path."
Severus nodded. A plan was already forming in the back of his mind, but he asked, "Your recommendations?"
"Uncle Albus had faith in you, as well, Professor, and he often expressed high regard for your . . . ingenuity. I bow to your judgment in this. It is important, however, that his companions leave with him."
"Minerva?" Severus turned back to the Headmistress.
"It is as he says," she answered stiffly. "I am sure you will engineer an appropriate encounter, and I need not impress upon you the urgency of the situation."
Severus had agreed to "persuade" Potter to leave school for one last time, not to return, and although he had never explicitly said that he would do anything to encourage his three friends to leave with him, that had been understood. There was little he could do to affect Lovegood, and she hadn't been present when the perfect opportunity had presented itself to confront Potter. Weasley, predictably, had followed his friend out the door, and Severus believed it quite likely that had he not spoken to Hermione, she would have followed suit. It was still possible that she would, but as he watched the young witch carefully drop her sliced Shrivelfig into her pale green potion bubbling in its glass cauldron, Severus felt an unaccountable, and completely unfounded, hope that she would not follow the boys when they left the castle grounds and headed into danger that would never entirely disappear until either the Dark Lord was dead or they were. Although it was possible they would be careless enough to depart the grounds in broad daylight, it was more likely that Potter and Weasley would wait to leave until after dark. This meant both that Hermione still had time to decide to accompany the boys and that Lovegood might catch up with them, as well.
Minerva and her shadow might not appreciate it if they knew that he had even hinted to Hermione that she needn't go with the others, but if there was already strife within the little group, taking Hermione out of the equation might actually be helpful to them in the end. His own motives for suggesting to Hermione that she had another option were not entirely clear even to himself. It just seemed . . . a waste. And if they used Grimmauld Place as a base of operations, they could meet with her there occasionally. She could still help the others with her research; indeed, she would be of more use to them. If they were tramping around looking for the objects of their quest, she could scarcely make use of any magical libraries. By staying here, she would have access to the Hogwarts library. And he could help her. Subtly, of course, and hopefully without coming to the attention of anyone who might be averse to it—whether that was the Headmistress or the Dark Lord. He could certainly at least steer her toward the clues he had fed the Dark Lord and then toward the information that would prove those clues as the empty and false leads that they were.
He still remembered snorting in disbelief when he first heard of the plan from Albus's mouth the previous February in the Headmaster's dimly lit sitting room, just a few weeks before his death. Albus was reclining on the sofa, propped up by several pillows, his wasted hand resting on another one.
"And who would seriously believe such a thing, Albus? Children and madmen!"
"Which is our audience, Severus. Unless you have changed your opinion of the Dark Lord's sanity and Harry's maturity."
That remark elicited another snort from Severus as Minerva handed Albus a glass with cool water and helped him to drink a few sips.
"I have already begun the dissemination of false information again, recruiting a few rather unlikely allies into the plot. I had begun to consider abandoning it, given the current state of my health, but then Minerva suggested that you could be useful to the plan, providing clues and red herrings to Tom while giving him other disinformation. If you pepper your reports with the clues as though you have no notion yourself as to their connection with one another or his own interest in the trail of bread crumbs we already have laid for him, he will likely snap them up."
"Trail of bread crumbs, indeed! The Hallows of Death! A fairy tale!" Severus shook his head in disbelief. "And you say that the Dark Lord has already been bamboozled by some of this? Do you have any idea what he will do if he discovers prematurely that this is all just a stalling technique to distract him from Potter? He will know that all of the information he has received from me which is tied to this fool's errand was deliberately planted. It will lead to doubts about everything I have told him, and although I doubt my own fate concerns you, it will likely also bring him to the final conclusion that I am and always have been a traitor. You will lose your spy before you are prepared for it."
"You must simply ensure that he does not discover it prematurely, Severus. I have faith in you and believe that you will tell Minerva if things are moving too fast or if Tom is becoming suspicious. You must do your best to pace things. And as for the bamboozling, as you put it, it was his own wild notions that led me to think of this plan in the first place, over twenty years ago. I simply confirmed some of what he had already hoped was true. I believe he had thought to abandon his search, despite the events in the graveyard, until he happened across the clues I set for him last year."
"And the point to having Potter and his friends go haring off after these figures of fantasy when they have another task to be getting on with, the one without which you assure me that it will be impossible to kill the Dark Lord?"
"Two-fold. It will reinforce Tom's own beliefs if he has the notion that Harry is also on their trail, and it will give Harry more time to prepare for what he must finally do in the end. He still has some maturing to do and must come to certain realisations about himself and his role. He needs that time."
"But involving the Lovegood girl . . . ." Severus held back a sigh.
"That was necessary because we were making use of Xenophilius. I am afraid that I had to perform a few memory charms, but it was a very simple matter, given his already firmly held beliefs." Albus took a deep breath and motioned for the glass of water. After another sip, he continued, "And he is strongly opposed to Tom . . . I regret putting him in greater danger, but I believe he would eventually have done something that brought him to Tom's attention, anyway, and at least this way, perhaps his continued existence might be ensured if it is thought he has some important information."
"But if the Dark Lord doesn't get the information from Lovegood . . . I thought Lovegood's information was to be aimed at Potter," Severus said questioningly, trying to ignore the Headmaster's increasingly laboured breathing.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes . . . but . . . it could prove useful later to have him confirm certain facts. . . . You may be able to make use of it."
"The Headmaster grows tired, Professor Snape," Minerva said, interrupting. "Do you have anything of substance to ask of him? If not, I suggest we bring this meeting to an end."
The Headmaster's funeral was a month later.
If he had been able to speak with the Headmaster that morning in late September, Severus had the feeling that he might have approved of his gently steering Granger away from following Potter into danger as long as he didn't hinder her from continuing to help the boy. Minerva and her shadow would no doubt disapprove, though Minerva might be secretly relieved, but Albus would have understood, and Severus believed he would have given his blessing.
He would suggest to Granger that Potter and his friends stay at Grimmauld Place, which was rarely used by the Order now, though it was still the Headquarters. They could always vacate it during the meetings, if they liked. But it would be a safe place for them to meet Granger that wouldn't bring them back to Hogsmeade, which would likely continue to be watched. Of course, she would have to go there and back, but he would watch over her, make sure that she made the journey unharmed. Perhaps this was finally one witch whom he could save, one Gryffindor he could keep from death.
NEXT: Chapter Six: Though lovers be lost love shall not
Hermione speaks privately with Severus in the Grimmauld Place library on a cold winter's day; later that night, Severus spies something in the Hogwarts library that disturbs him. But does he really understand what he witnesses? (Early January 1998.)
Characters: Alastor Moody, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Ronald Weasley, Severus Snape.
This is a complex Snape-centric fic in which point-of-view is particularly important. Don't assume an omniscient narrator or that the characters' points-of-view are necessarily showing the full truth of any particular scene.