Be assured, I WILL continue this, even if I think less and less of my translating skill, as the fic advances. If it were not for Slytherin silver snake, this thing would be basically unreadable, I'm afraid. She's a great beta and my only hold, to not throw the whole thing aside. But then again I probably wouldn't do that to all those who were kind enough to review. Being a lazy reviewer myself, I really do appreciate all those nice comments and I think that I have an obligation towards all the reviewers who want to see this finished.
The German version is a bit hanging too, because the plot became quite complicated in a way that it needs a lot of thinking, so that it stays plausible, yet doesn't stuck in place. So, please be patient with me. I will try not to let you wait you so long anymore until the next instalment is up. Again I deeply apologize.
Chapter 16:
The trial 2:
"It won't be long before they call us back in. Snape will lose his soul quicker than he can say detention", Ron cheerily said, as they were led out of the courtroom through a centred entrance.
Hermione turned around and hissed at him to shut up, while she indicated to the headmaster with her head.
Ron understood her silent reproach that his joy over Snape's immediate demise would sadden Dumbledore, who was walking in front of them, sided by McGonagall, and he instantly blushed, lowering his head in embarrassment.
McGonagall also sent him a reproachful glance over her shoulder before she turned to the headmaster. "Severus is not being himself, Albus. Something is wrong with him. You must have noticed his unusual mood swings, like we all did. The jurors must have seen it too… Severus' difficult and dangerous life must have caught up with him. I'm afraid that he finally broke under the strain. He's ill and Fudge saw that too. Severus is already being punished enough by his condition and the ministry will not sentence a…"
She paused and briefly closed her eyes, as if she'd just came to a devastating conclusion by herself. " They will not sentence a crazy man to get the dementor's kiss, when his crimes were committed in his insanity."
Harry meant to protest that this was hardly an excuse, and that Snape was guilty as sin, but Dumbledore's head jerked up at McGonagall's last words and he looked at her with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "You really think so? Yes, yes you could be right about that."
Dumbledore's suddenly hopeful face stole any protest Harry could have spoken out, yet the glimmer in the old wizard's eyes vanished as fast as it had appeared. "Severus looks dreadful. He never handled the presence of dementors very well and they seem to keep him under constant surveillance."
"It could be worse," McGonagall reassured. "In his current situation it's a blessing for him to have become insane, having developed a sort of numbness to his self incrimination. This way, the dementors cannot do any more damage."
"What do you mean by that, Professor?" Hermione asked.
The older witch turned around, without slowing down. "Severus has always felt guilty. He has done terrible things under Voldemort and has regretted this dearly. He has, of course, also done a world of good and saved numerous people's life. A fact, which under normal circumstances, was giving him some kind of emotional balance, but exactly those good memories would be sucked out by the dementors. There were not too many of them to begin with, and this emotional cushion would be ripped from him in a split second, bringing up to the surface all his self loathing and guilt. For people with such great regrets, the pictures and sounds of a violent past are difficult to handle. If Professor Snape is becoming insane, or loses his guilt, then he will not be as prone to those pictures. They don't hit him with such a vehemence then."
Harry thought about McGonagall's words for a moment and just wanted to respond, as the forward movement of the crowd around them stopped abruptly because too many people tried to squeeze themselves out through a narrow doorframe that led into a great oval room.
Once inside, the spectators were gathering into small groups, chattering, while some employees walked around, carrying tableaux with mugs, holding them high above their heads, as they had to squeeze through some larger groups of people.
"But he deserves to suffer," Harry commented on McGonagall's words, obstinately. "He killed my godfather." He faced Dumbledore, who had come to a halt besides him. "And how could you go on, trying to palliate the whole thing?"
"Mr. Potter!"
Dumbledore lifted his hand in a placating gesture. "It is all right Minerva. I have already anticipated such a question."
He regarded Harry seriously over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. "I did not 'palliate the whole thing', Harry. Like I did state in court, I do disagree on the murder of another human being as much as you do, but I will do all I can, so that the ministry is not punishing a crime with something that is a hundred times worse. And it's not even important that Severus is my friend and that I don't want to see him as a soulless piece of meat. What is unacceptable is that the Ministry is using foul means in the name of justice, which are almost as bad as what any Death Eater is capable of. There is still the probability that the ministry has called spirits which they can't get rid of anymore, by associating with the dementors."
The headmaster then sighed. "Besides, it does look like the sentence had been decided a long time ago, and this trial is only held under the camouflage of justice. This too, goes against everything that I believe in. Many times have I seen men, who had appeared guilty at first, only to prove innocent in the end. Just as often, perfectly unsuspected people were culpable of the most horrendous evils. Just remember Draco's father, or Quirrel, whom nobody would ever have dreamed to doubt on. You yourself have suspected Professor Snape, but in the end Severus has even saved your life. You shouldn't forget that. Things are often not as they seem and everybody has the right to explain him or herself. Everybody."
Harry didn't reply anything but answered Dumbledore's look unwaveringly, folding his arms stubbornly over his chest. Snape had saved his life because of the debt he had had towards his father, and not out of gentleness or even because he might have had the slightest care about his fate. Harry was not exited about dementors himself, but in this case he was more than willing to make an exception.
Dumbledore finally broke eye contact, when a Ministry employee, carrying a tableau, moved closer, offering fresh pumpkin juice to them. Dumbledore waved the offer off and the others also declined, making the man move on to the next group of people.
"If you would excuse me now, children. I think I just spotted Alastor and I would like to have a word with him."
With those words, the headmaster disappeared among the crowd, followed closely by McGonagall.
"How much longer do they plan to continue their discussion?" Ron called out, after an hour of boring and useless waiting. "It can't take that long for them to find out that Snape deserves the kiss."
Ron hadn't been impressed at all by Dumbledore's speech and still firmly believed that the potions master deserved nothing less than the worst possible sentence. Then, Snape's conviction would at least have something good, he had explained, since he would win his bet, being able to finally buy the book about Quiddich, on which he had had an eye on for so long. After that explanation, Hermione of course basically exploded, yelling at him, how he could even think of gaining profit with the life of another human being. Then she had crossed her arms indignantly over her chest and turned the other way.
"But it's only Snape," Ron had stuttered slightly confused, yet Hermione had not gifted him with the least bit of attention after that.
Dumbledore was still chatting with numerous wizards, who seemed to show up again and again, addressing him. Harry briefly wondered where Remus Lupin had ended up. It would have been nice if the werewolf could have joined them, but Harry hadn't seen his former teacher since the beginning of the trial. He would probably be waiting somewhere in a dark spot, away from the crowd.
The waiting was quite testing on Harry's nerves too, but contrary to Ron, he didn't complain about it loudly and merely fidgeted nervously.
This, again, seemed to unsettle Hermione, until she could not keep quiet any longer. "Blimey, Harry. Would you please calm down? You're making me nervous."
"Sorry," Harry murmured briskly, leaning one shoulder against the wall behind him.
A short wizard finally entered the room through the same entrance they had used some time ago, clearing his throat loudly before pointing his wand against his own throat, murmuring "Sonorus."
"Please take your places in the courtroom. The Judges will pronounce the verdict in a few minutes."
As the magical enhanced voice drifted over the crowd, everyone looked up, relief palpable, that the waiting was over at last.
"Finally. Typical desk jockeys. Only they can take so long to agree upon such an obvious verdict. Every normal-thinking wizard wouldn't have needed more than a few minutes for that." With those words, Ron pushed passed the court assistant, who looked at him with an offended scowl.
Harry and Hermione hurried after him, while Hermione threw the short man an apologising shrug.
They were among the first ones to reach the courtroom and climbed between the ranks to their places in the bottom row. Harry was relieved that the dementors had already left. He was not eager to spend one minute more than what was necessary in the same room with those soul-sucking monsters.
The gap, through which they got to their places from this entrance lay slightly sideways and Harry saw that Lucius Malfoy had apparently not left his seat, even with the dementors here. He was still sitting immobile on his bench, both hands on the handle of his walking stick and the expressionless eyes unwavering glued on Snape. From this position, Harry could also see the potions master nearly from his side. The man still seemed to suffer from the recent presence of the dementors. He had his head lowered, eyes shut tightly and his fists were clenched so hard that they trembled a bit.
His right hand was not bandaged anymore and Harry thought he saw a drop of blood fall to the ground, as Snape put pressure on the small injury.
"I just hope that we can watch, when he gets the dementor's kiss," Ron exclaimed just loud enough, so that Snape would surely hear him.
"Oh, shut up for once, Ron," Hermione hissed angrily.
Snape didn't show any visible reaction to Ron's statement except a minuscule twitch of his shoulders. Harry smiled at that. He wanted to see Snape suffer and thanked Ron inwardly. Primary to being executed, that slimy son of a bitch should know what people thought about him. That his death would not be mourned by anyone. Except maybe Dumbledore, who didn't really count since there was still this old story with the debt between them. He only regretted that the dementor's kiss was so fast and painless. Sirius had suffered for twelve years and had been robbed by Snape of every chance to ever live in peace and be happy. Snape should suffer much more for his actions.
Unfortunately, Harry would not be getting his wish. The ministry didn't torture. Normally, Harry would not be someone who thought like this, but the circumstances were hardly normal.
That instant, Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived at their row and sat down. The room was filling fast, and when Fudge and the jurors finally filed in, the last of the wizards and witches were again sitting at their places.
An expectant silence instantly hovered over the crowd as dozens pairs of eyes rested either on the chair in the middle of the arena or the elevated desks before it.
Rita Skeeter poised her quill on top of her parchment and stared, sensation seeking, up to the still standing Fudge and jurors, who were glaring with severe distain down at Snape.
"May all the people in this room, with exception of the defendant, rise? I will be announcing the sentence now."
Harry's pulse sped up as he heard Fudge's words. A rustle of fabric filled the room, as every wizard and witch came to their feet.
"Look at me, defendant!" Fudge ordered and Harry saw the movement of Snape's head as he complied.
"We have carefully discussed your case and have come to a verdict." He made an artificial pause. "Severus Snape, as the result of using one of the unforgivable curses you will be spending the rest of your life in the high security ward in the dungeons of Azkaban. The possibility of an early release or pardon is not given. For the first ten years, you will not be permitted any visitors and your right to an owl is restricted to one every six months. There is no chance of an appeal against this verdict and it will be carried out as from this moment."
To Harry, it looked as if some burdening tension was falling off of Snape. Had this man really been afraid? It seemed impossible that this cold Slytherin even knew what fear was. But then again, Harry supposed that about everybody would fear the prospect of having one's soul sucked out of him or her.
At his right, he heard a relieved "Thank Merlin" from Dumbledore, but from the crowd there were several shouts of protest to be heard.
"Silence in the court!" Fudge called and one after the other, the protests died out. The minister's eyes roamed over the crowd, and in his expression it was clearly written that he would have liked another verdict himself, but had been overruled by the jurors. He glued his glare back upon Snape and his eyes hardened.
"You belong to the worst kind of criminals that exist, Mister Snape and if it would have been for myself, you would at this point already have lost your soul. Unfortunately there are certain points that speak against it. For once, Sirius Black was indeed a searched criminal and it is not to tell how many people he may have killed whilst free."
Harry clenched his fists. Sirius never killed anyone, neither before nor after his stay in Azkaban. Fudge, however, continued unwaveringly: "Besides all that, the jurors, as well as myself, have gotten the impression that you're not under complete control of all of your mental means."
"Why don't you say it as it is," Ron snorted. "The man has completely lost it."
"Because of this, it is well possible that you have not realized the extent of your acts to the time you committed them. Contrary to the dark side, the ministry is not cruel and knows about mercy. We will not submit a sick man to the dementor's kiss. However it is exactly this liability that makes you the more dangerous. You have always been a wizard with a strong tendency to the dark arts, as I have been informed, and now you have apparently lost the control to stay on the right side. You have to be kept away from the world and I will make sure that you're securely locked and will not pose any more threat to the wizard and muggle community." He looked up from Snape. "Call the dementors in to bring the defendant back to his cell!"
The door to their side opened again. Like before, the four dementors floated in, robbing away every warmth and joy of living.
The four beings floated to the chair, and two of them grabbed Snape by his arms with white, bony hands. The chains glowed golden once again before they fell limply off his arms and legs, letting go of their prisoner. All semblance of vigour seemed to leave Snape when the creatures touched him. They practically lifted him to his feet and led the staggering man out of the room.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Fudge and the jurors rose from their chairs and left the room as well.
The spectators also got up from their chairs, now that the spectacle was over. Some, like Lucius Malfoy, strode purposefully out of the next exit, whilst others remained standing in small groups, discussing the sentence.
Dumbledore and McGonagall stood up as well, and with Ron, Hermione and Harry following, they stepped down into the arena.
McGonagall strode with a firm step to the exit, Ron and Hermione following her at her heels, discussing and arguing wildly about the sentence and Ron's bet.
Only Dumbledore had suddenly disappeared.
Searching, Harry turned around and spotted the headmaster by the chair with the chains. The old wizard looked sadly down at the now empty chair, and he gently ran one hand over the armrest of the wooden furniture, where shortly before the arm of the potions master had been.
His glance travelled down to the ground and then he squatted down and traced his fingers over the stony floor, looking like he was trying hard to hold back some tears.
After a few moments, the headmaster seemed to take notice from Harry and straightened up, while he schooled his emotions again. Now, Harry saw why Dumbledore had held his hand on the ground. He had covered a few drops of blood, which must have fallen there from the injury on Snape's right hand.
"Come, Harry," Dumbledore said with heavy voice, while he came to his side. "Let's go home."
T.B.C.