Note: *Kimmeth duly hangs her head in shame.* I do apologise for this stupidly long wait. I have no-one to blame but myself. And I've decided that I am going to stop saying anything about when updates may or may not be coming as whatever I say seems fated to end in disaster. But, on the upside, things are looking up. Firstly, I'm back at uni. Secondly, I am at a productive level of stressed-ness. And thirdly, courses don't start for another two weeks so whilst I'm not checking none of the coffee shops have disappeared in my year's absence, or practicing for my oral exam, I have all the time in the world to write… Anyway, thank you for waiting for me and I hope you enjoy the update.

Note2: Erm, this is where things start veering in a very different direction from the original plot. (Well yes, I know they've done so already.) It was probably fear of taking this comparatively huge step that stopped me updating sooner. Do not say I didn't warn you.

Last time on C&I: Harry has just had a dream in which Voldemort found out that the diadem, which he had trusted Draco to bring to safety, is no more. Late at night the trio and Draco have come across each other, and fisticuffs have ensued, broken up by an exceedingly unimpressed Snape…

Chapter Forty-Five

The Truth Will Always Out

For a few moments, Harry could do nothing but sit slightly dazed on the cold stone floor of the corridor and marvel at the absolute absurdity of the situation that he had found himself in. It was completely surreal and if he didn't know better from the smarting pain under his ribcage then he might have thought it a dream. A couple of yards from him, he saw Malfoy scrambling to his feet and making to bolt, and between them, Snape, a formidable spectre who seemed to have appeared out of thin air to stop their brawl. His soulless gaze was focussed directly on Hermione, who was opening and closing her mouth, trying desperately to think of an excuse or a viable explanation and failing miserably. Harry could only hope that she had recognised what Snape was doing and was taking necessary precautions – there was no doubt that he was using legilimency on her to establish the cause of the scene, since Harry's own thoughts were too scattered from the winding he had received during the course of the fight. Shouting 'mentally recite the twelve uses of dragon's blood backwards to distract him' wouldn't have been very profitable in his situation.

Thankfully, in that moment, Snape was distracted, by Malfoy taking off at full pelt along the corridor away from them. The teacher turned and cast in one swift motion and at any other time, Harry would have given good galleons to see Malfoy dragged back along the corridor as if lassoed, but the spell didn't connect. Though not particularly strong in a physical fight, Malfoy was extremely fast. Snape gave an exhalation that expressed a mixture of anger and sheer exasperation, and set off after his student.

"Malfoy!" he yelled down the corridor. "Come back here!"

Harry felt someone pat his shoulder and looked up to see that Ron was offering him a hand off the floor.

"Come on," said his friend as he pulled Harry to his feet. "Let's get out of here."

But Harry did not truly hear Ron. He kept staring along the corridor after the two retreating Slytherins, and he felt something snap. The scene was an almost familiar one, and Harry thought back to the end of the last school year, to the fateful night atop the lightning-struck tower.

A surge of anger rushed through Harry's veins, and he could no longer hear the voices of his friends urging him to come away, to forget what had happened, to say if he was injured from his scuffle. The blood was pounding in his ears, blocking out all sounds but the thoughts in his head, telling him that this was it, that it was finally the moment.

Harry had waited a long time to seek any kind of retribution for Dumbledore's death. He had never yet been in a position where he had been able to, and the small voice in the back of his mind that sounded remarkably like Hermione, or Ginny, had told him that attempting to make the opportunities for himself would be a very, very bad idea. But now, the chance was there, for the taking. It was almost exactly as it had been the year before, only this time, Harry would make sure that he succeeded and that everything was finished.

"Harry, no."

Hermione's voice, clear and sharp and loud although spoken at no more than a whisper, suddenly cut through the fog of red mist that was slowly enveloping him. He turned to see her shaking her head, and he knew that she knew what he was thinking. Ron's face was neutral, but he had long known that he would be more likely to side with Hermione.

He turned again towards Snape's retreating back as he passed out of sight around the end of the corridor. Soon both he and Malfoy would be lost to them in the labyrinthine school. It was now or never.

A vision flashed in front of his eyes, two words resounding in his ears.

"Severus, please."

Harry set off after Dumbledore's murderer.

"HARRY!"

This time Hermione really was screaming, and Harry could hear two sets of footsteps following him, no-one caring who saw them, or found them, or whether they woke up the entire rest of the castle in their quest: Snape to stop Malfoy, Harry to stop Snape and Ron and Hermione to stop Harry. All the angry Gryffindor wanted was to do what he should have done those many months before. A small part of him was certain that he had no more right than anyone else to exact revenge upon the former potions master, but another part of him was leading him on, justifying his actions. Who else had been there when the terrible deed had taken place? Who else had seen the pleading look on Dumbledore's face, heard his final words?

He was catching up to the other two now, he could hear snatches of their words here and there, and as he hurtled down the main staircase he saw Snape rush out of the front doors, in the opposite direction to the Slytherin quarters.

"Harry, this is stupid and ridiculous and do you even know what you're trying to do?" exclaimed Hermione from behind him, panting. Harry didn't reply, he was too focussed on his goal.

The cold air on his face hit him like a wall and slowed him slightly, knocking some rational thought into his mind. Did he really know what he was doing? About to charge, in his pyjamas no less, into combat with a known murderer… It certainly didn't look an exceedingly considered plan, if it was a plan at all.

But in that moment, as Harry continued to shorten the distance between himself and his quarry, none of it mattered. It was as if a different Harry had taken over, the angry Harry that he normally tried to keep as pressed down as possible for the simple reason that it made getting on with life a lot easier, and he continued his pursuit, ignorant of the probable consequences of what he was about to do. Up ahead, he saw Malfoy force the gates open by magic, escape out of the boundaries and disappear to who-cared-where.

Snape slowed as he saw Malfoy disapparate, and he shook his head in despair, allowing Harry to close the gap between them.

"And so you seal your fate, Draco, and I cannot help you in whatever waits for you at home," he murmured. Harry took no time to contemplate the meaning of the words, and let loose a curse now that he was finally within a decent range for the spell to have half a chance of connecting.

Snape heard him, and ducked before turning to face his opponent. He did not attack back, just as he had not attacked directly after Dumbledore's death.

"Potter, I am unafraid of defending myself but if it is a full-scale duel that you are foolishly hoping for, you will be disappointed."

"You're still a coward, Snape," Harry goaded, still attempting to curse him and still having his attempts shielded or reflected. He remembered the words he had spoken on that fateful night that had finally pushed Snape into action. "You hide away in your office and never show your traitorous face because you're scared of what'll happen to you when you emerge…"

"Harry!" screamed Hermione, running up behind him and attempting to pull him away from the one-sided duel. "Harry, have you gone insane?"

"Harry, he's not worth it!" yelled Ron, coming to assist Hermione.

"Well someone's got to do something!" Harry snapped, his already flighty concentration now split between trying to engage Snape in combat and trying to fight off the restraining hands of his friends. "Someone has to get justice for Dumbledore!"

"Yeah mate, we know," panted Ron, "but that doesn't mean it automatically has to be you."

Harry was about to open his mouth to argue his corner further but before he could do so, the entire tableau was interrupted by a new voice, roaring from behind them.

"ENOUGH!"

It was the shock that Harry needed to get him to see sense and turn round. The voice belonged to the person that he had least expected to see running towards them with a face like thunder and a wand outstretched, demanding to know what was going on without words.

Madame Pomfrey arrived at the group, her eyes furious and unblinking. She did not lower her wand, even after both Snape and Harry had stowed theirs.

"Madame Pomfrey, we can explain," began Ron, unsteadily, but Harry knew that if there was any explaining to be done then it would not be by him. The entire escapade could be summed up in three words: hot-headed Gryffindor recklessness. He couldn't even claim that it had seemed like a good idea at the time, because it hadn't. It had just been an idea, one that had raised its head and refused to leave.

"This has gone far enough," said the mediwitch, shaking her head in deep disappointment. "If he didn't accept it before then he must do now." She looked at the four, in control of them all, even Snape whom she had known as a pupil and was not as afraid of as she might have been despite his reputation. "Head's office," she said simply. "Now."

Harry did not know whether her remark had been addressed to Snape or not, but he followed them regardless, constantly exchanging looks with the healer that made Harry believe that they were having an entire conversation without either of them opening their mouths. No-one spoke on the way to McGonagall's office. Ron was staring into the middle distance; Harry was certain that he would have been paying intense attention to the ceiling had he not had to watch where he was going. Hermione was lost in thought, her brow furrowed as she no doubt attempted to think of an explanation for the headmistress. Harry simply didn't know what to think. All too soon, they had reached their destination.

Professor McGonagall lifted her head of the desk with a startled murmur of what sounded like 'I-wasn't-asleep!', as Madame Pomfrey flung the head's office door open without warning and she stormed in, the little convoy following her with slightly less ferocity.

"Please excuse my waking you, Minerva, but I'm sure you'll understand in a moment."

"Poppy, what on earth is going on?" asked the headmistress, removing her spectacles and rubbing her eyes before replacing the glasses on her nose.

"There's no time for explanations now. This has gone on long enough. It's a miracle that we managed to get this far without any incidents." Professor McGonagall looked past Madame Pomfrey's elbow at the trio gathered in the doorway and Harry could feel her gaze boring into him. He would have seriously considered turning tail and running in a very un-Gryffindor-like manner had he not known that Snape was standing grim and statue-like behind him. The headmistress sighed.

"I might have known. Why is it always you three?" she muttered under her breath before turning back to the nurse. "I'll leave the explanation in your hands, Poppy. I can see you want the satisfaction of venting your frustration."

Harry tried not to show his utter confusion, but a glance sideways at Hermione and Ron told him that they were just as in the dark as he was. For a moment he suspected a complex conspiracy in which the school's entire population of teachers had been replaced with polyjuice replicas. His alarm must have shown as Hermione rolled her eyes, the action serving as a partial reassurance. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation. There was almost always a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Madame Pomfrey took a step back from the desk and spoke to the portrait that hung above it.

"Albus, I know that you aren't asleep, so will you please grace us with your presence and explain to your most trusted students what has been happening at Hogwarts for the past year and a half under all our noses?"

Dumbledore opened his eyes.

"Poppy," he began, his voice troubled, "you know the reasons why the secret must be kept."

"It's been kept long enough! When the students start attacking the staff for reasons that the rest of the world sees, however misguidedly, as justified, then it is time for you to weigh up what you hope to gain from your silence against the very real probability of your losing something from it."

Professor McGonagall looked at the trio again and seemed to put two and two together in that moment, sighing and resting her head in her hands. Madame Pomfrey paused; Harry didn't think that he had ever seen the mediwitch so quietly angry before. She had been outraged and indignant, certainly, but the depth of frustration that was apparent in her voice, Harry had never heard that before. "Albus," she continued, her initial vehemence vented. "I said at the beginning of the year, when I first came into this knowledge, that I didn't think it was a good idea to keep it hidden from so many for so long." She glanced over her shoulder at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Snape. "You've trusted and burdened these people with so much; don't you think it's common courtesy to allow them the whole truth?"

Dumbledore did not reply for a long time.

"Severus?" he asked finally.

"The decision is, as always, in your hands, Professor," said Snape coolly. "I make no suggestions either way."

The portrait sighed.

"You're right Poppy, there's only so long that such a great charade can stay in place. Harry, Ron, Hermione, as you have no doubt gathered, a lot has been kept from you this year, at my insistence and possibly against my better judgement. However, I feel that things will be a lot clearer if viewed first hand rather than explained with the risk of leaving out something of vital importance. Minerva, if you could…"

Professor McGonagall nodded and rose from her chair, opening the cupboard that housed the pensieve and carefully levitating it over to the desk before selecting a number of memory vials from the shelves. She picked out four to begin with, then toyed with one of them before shaking her head and replacing it. Dumbledore seemed to approve her decision and made no comment. Madame Pomfrey, satisfied that her ire had borne fruit, turned and made for the door.

"Good luck," she said to the trio. "I hope that everything will be clearer now. Severus?"

Snape nodded his accord and they exited the office, leaving Harry even more confused than he had been before. Up until a few minutes ago, the status quo of the castle had been relatively easy to define. Snape was a traitor teaching under law from the Ministry and ostracised by the rest of the staff, but suddenly he had developed an unanticipated camaraderie with Madame Pomfrey of all people, and the circumstances were not as clear cut as they had been. Moreover, they had ostensibly never been what Harry had perceived them to be.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione." Dumbledore's portrait was speaking to them again, and he motioned for them to come closer towards the desk and take a seat in the chairs that Professor McGonagall had drawn up for them. The headmistress herself withdrew into the corner of the room, unnoticeable but undeniably there, watching over the proceedings with caution.

"I left these memories for Professor McGonagall to find after I died," explained Dumbledore. "They should hopefully serve as a vaguely understandable basis."

"But Professor," Harry began, "what's…"

"Patience, Harry, patience," said Dumbledore. "View the memories first and then I will gladly answer any of your remaining questions."

There was silence for a moment. Eventually Hermione took over and emptied the three vials into the pensieve.

"You first," she said nervously.

Harry took a deep breath, acutely aware that what he was about to see would change his outlook completely, and he plunged into the pensieve…

X

It took a long time for Harry to digest all that he had seen in the past few minutes, so much information and clarification squashed into such a short space of time that everything was even more blurred and confused than before. One thing stood out amongst the haze of images and words. Snape had been Dumbledore's man all along. Whilst no-one could say that Dumbledore had faked his own death, he had certainly orchestrated its circumstances very finely. That was the fact that had been hidden from them for so long. That one fact, so easy when expressed in words, had changed everything.

"But why?" Harry asked, hoping that the single simple question covered all the varied queries that needed to be answered before he left the room.

"Why didn't I tell you that I was living on borrowed time for the majority of the last year? Well, unfortunately, that would have put paid to the rest of our intricately laid plans," said Dumbledore, the faintest ghost of a twinkle flashing in his eyes before he returned to seriousness. "I think that your most pressing query, however, is why we have kept this from you for so long and would have kept it from you indefinitely had fate not intervened." Dumbledore paused. "As the head of both the school and the Order, I have had to make many unpleasant decisions for the greater good, the mysterious and dangerous notion that the greater good is. This was one such decision. Of course it would have made everyone's lives, not least of all Severus's, far more comfortable if the truth had been generally known, but at the same time, we must consider Professor Snape's valuable position in the ranks of our enemies. By seemingly murdering me, he has assured a place close to Voldemort that has helped Minerva greatly in providing intelligence for the Order. It was thanks to his intervention that you were brought safely to the Burrow on the night that you were, you know. Not only do we know exactly what is planned, we can lay false trails of our own, and we know which of our enemies may insubordinate or surrender at any point."

Harry thought of Draco disapparating outside the Hogwarts gates and wondered whether he had met his fate at home as Snape had predicted or whether he would be coming back to the school any time soon after his unceremonious departure from it.

"It would have been impractical and indeed completely impossible to try and inform the whole school and the whole Order of the true state of affairs when Voldemort has spies everywhere, spies that are most definitely on his payroll and not ours. Such an action would have placed Professor Snape in more danger than remaining silent would have done."

"Until his students start trying to kill him to avenge you," muttered Phineas Nigellus from his frame.

"That will do, Phineas," said Dumbledore sternly. "In such extreme cases of life and death, a happy medium is impossible and you know it."

Phineas Nigellus retreated from his portrait, back to Grimmauld Place, still chuntering under his breath.

"How many people know?" asked Hermione. Her face was concentrated, determined, as if she was almost at the solution of a particularly difficult problem. Although, on the surface, everything seemed to be clear and explained, Harry was still floundering helplessly. It was so deceptively straightforward that he thought he must have missed something. Nothing in magic was ever that simple.

"Those in this room, plus Professor Snape naturally, and Madame Pomfrey."

"And I believe that Professor Babbling has worked out the crux of the truth for herself, although whether she has the full details remains unknown." Professor McGonagall came out from her niche and sat down behind the desk once more. "She has lived through much magical warfare, however, and knows better than to jump to conclusions where dark magic is so deeply intertwined."

The headmistress looked at the three students in front of her, and Harry could see the dark circles under her eyes. He thought of the great and heavy weight of the secret that she had been carrying around almost unaided since the end of the last school year, the weight that had just been passed onto his shoulders so that he too could bear its torturous load. This was why, or at least this must have been one of the reasons why, she had wanted him to return to Hogwarts and not go off on his own.

"So now you know." Professor McGonagall sighed. "I only wish that I knew what to say in the circumstances. Even now I am wondering whether this was the correct course of action to take, but I do not know what the alternative could have been."

Harry wondered. If Madame Pomfrey had not seen the battle in the grounds, if she had not looked out of her window for that single split second, who knew what might have happened? Harry thought, in hindsight, that he probably would not have been able to kill Snape, but at the time he had been so determined that had the professor attempted to escape and disapparate, he would not have been at all surprised at himself had he tried to go after, and then… The possible consequences of his actions did not bear thinking about, but at the same time, no-one, not least of all himself, seemed to be entirely sure that the course that events had taken was the most beneficial one.

"Harry."

Dumbledore was speaking to them again. Harry looked up and met his gaze.

"As Madame Pomfrey said, I have burdened you with so much and told you so very little. I should have given you the courtesy of the truth much earlier, but I need to know that you understand why I did not."

Harry nodded.

"I understand. I think."

"Then if there is nothing more you wish to know, I suggest you return to your beds to garner what precious little sleep you can after everything that has happened tonight. Should anything else occur to you that you wish to ask, I will of course oblige. There is one thing more that I must impress upon you, and that is that no-one else must know, at least not until the time is right."

The trio nodded in unison, once more three young magicians bound to secrecy, bound to knowledge that the rest of the world, much less the rest of the school, did not know.

Professor McGonagall rose from her chair.

"I shall escort you back to Gryffindor Tower, lest you run into difficulties."

Harry didn't know if she truly meant running into Filch or if she was worried that despite everything, he might go looking for Snape to finish the job he had so shoddily begun earlier in the night. As they passed the doors to the hospital wing and Harry made out the undertones of conversation between Madame Pomfrey and Snape, he wondered what would happen now. Ostensibly, nothing had changed. As Dumbledore had said, no-one else could know. But now, Harry found the light in which he saw the potions master changing. What he had seen in the pensieve had given him more than enough food for thought for one night, but above everything else, Harry wondered at Dumbledore's capacity for deception on such a grand scale. If he had kept this from them, what else might he have hidden for the greater good?

Note3: The memories are the same ones Minerva viewed back in chapter one, with one left out. More on that later. These memories are in turn basically the same as Snape's from DH but from Dumbledore's side of the equation, so I did not show them here or in chapter one as I did not want to simply repeat.

Note4: So we're all friends again, well, friends might be pushing it but we're all on the same side again. Yay! But, as always, there's something bad on the horizon. No! Hogwarts, the last haven of calm in the middle of the storm, is about to have a severe shake-up. But first, let's check up on the Death Eaters, who are on strike until they get higher pay and a better dental plan. No, not really, but they certainly aren't too happy…