Chapter 33

It All Falls Down

Severus Snape stood very still against a faded wall, his upper back bent to ensure he stayed hidden under the invisibility cloak. It took all his willpower to not move a muscle or shout out – he could barely contain himself. He took quick shallow breaths, trying to calm his mind and control his roiling emotions. He felt a mix of trepidation, anger and hesitant excitement – the scene in front of him was surreal, almost unbelievable.

Ron Weasley was lying on a dirty old bed with his face scrunched up in pain. His leg appeared broken and a scrawny rat was squirming wildly in his clenched hands. Harry Potter and Hermoine Granger were standing beside the bed, dirtied and bloodied from head to toe. Remus Lupin stood across from the children, giving them a history lesson on his time as a student at Hogwarts. And right beside Lupin, standing there in the flesh and plain as day, was the mass murderer Sirius Black.

The forsaken traitor was a gaunt skeleton, skin stretched so taut across his face it appeared as if it would tear away at any moment. His sunken eyes held a vacant expression and his thin lips were cracked and bleeding. His teeth were chipped and yellow and some appearing rotted to the core. Filthy matted hair fell to his elbows, a knotted rat's nest of tangles and thin strands. He was dressed in a ragged black robe that mirrored his shambled appearance.

Snape leveled out his breathing, trying to channel the righteous fury that angrily coursed through him as he stared hard at Black. The fiend had spent 12 years in Azkaban, but it wasn't punishment enough. He had loathed Snape for no other reason than Snape existed, that Snape wasn't born into his rich little pure blood world. He had tormented Snape endlessly, driving the young Slytherin into bouts of depression and self-loathing.

And Black had killed the only thing Snape had ever cared about. Losing the love of your life hurts – accepting that Lilly had wanted someone else to comfort her, to hold her late at night, to listen to her dreams and fears…that had been a difficult enough pill for Snape to swallow. Having to come to terms with the fact that she wanted to build a life with someone else, with one of his true enemies…that had almost broken Snape. But discovering that she had been slaughtered like an animal, deprived of a full life at such a young age – that had torn Snape asunder.

But now events had aligned perfectly and the time had come to exact exquisite vengeance. Sometimes the Gods smiled down upon you! Oh, how sweet it this moment was! Very soon Black would be transformed into a zombie, destroyed by a vicious Dementor's Kiss. Lupin would be disgraced and imprisoned in Azkaban for aiding and abetting a mass murderer. And smug Dumbledore would have to eat crow and acknowledge that I'd been right all along…

…Snape pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.

Hermione screamed. Black leapt to his feet. Harry felt as though he'd received a huge electric shock.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you. . . ."

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did . . . lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus —" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this. . . . He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin . . . a tame werewolf —"

"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

Harry stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do or whom to believe. He glanced around at Ron and Hermione. Ron looked just as confused as he did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape — it — it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w — would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if — if there was a mistake —"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you. . . ."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" — he jerked his head at Ron — "I'll come quietly. . . ."

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black . . . pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay. . . ."

What little color there was in Black's face left it. "You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that Harry had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason. "Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too —"

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry said. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN —"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

Harry made up his mind in a split second. Before Snape could take even one step toward him, he had raised his wand…

…Snape was full of an indescribable emotion – was it justifiable anger? Righteous vengeance? God had deemed a soul unworthy of this world and Snape felt as though he were the holy sword of judgement. His blood felt as though it were on fire – a dark power flowed through him that he not felt in years and his senses felt supremely heightened, as if on higher plane of awareness.

He registered with a shock that Potter had pointed his wand at him and in his peripheral vision he became aware that the other two children had also assumed an attack position. Snape felt a yawning pit open up deep within his chest – a sickening feeling swept through him as he realized what was about to happen. Please God no…don't do this to me…I'm so close to fulfilling my oath…Snape could only close his eyes in frustration as three separate streams of red light jetted towards him.

Snape felt the cool caress of crisp grass along the left side of face. He opened his eyes and tried to move, but his limbs screamed out in aches and pains. His chest felt as though a centaur had stomped an angry hoof through it and his head was throbbing with the concussive aftereffects of earlier in the night. He lifted a tired hand to his face and could feel the beginnings of a few angry lumps. Had someone slammed his head into a brick wall?

He rolled over onto his back with a groan and stared up a partly cloudy sky – a white luminous moon was shining down on him. Where am I? What the hell happened? Snape glanced to his right and saw Ron lying motionless on the ground. The boy had a large manacle clamped down on his outstretched arm and blood was trickling from his forehead. Snape closed his eyes as his head continue to pulse with agony, he could barely collect his thoughts into a coherent stream.

A loud angry howl pierced the night sky, full of pain and uncertainty. It sounded like an angry animal…a large bear perhaps…no, it was…a werewolf! Snape's eyes flashed open and awareness swept over him. The events of the past hour came flooding back to him.

Black…Lupin…the meddling children! He may have Lily's eyes, but the rest of that brat was pure James, through and through. Like father, like son. I risk my life to save his skin and my thanks is a goddamn concussion? For a brief moment Snape wished harm had befallen the children – they deserved what danger came their way after their unconscionable behavior. No, it's not their fault. Who knows what lies Black and Lupin fed them? Still, I'm their teacher, their superior, they should not have meddled…

"Ahhhhhhh!" Another terrified wail whistled through along with the night wind, terror-filled and foreboding. Snape rolled up to his feet, willing his mind to close down and shut off the pain. He frantically searched his robe, but couldn't find a vial of helpful tonic on his person. Woefully unprepared, for he had not been expecting a fight tonight. I must always be prepared! Frustrated with himself, Snape staggered off towards the general direction of the scream.

He crested a small hill and then headed down, stumbling over small shrubs and loose rocks. Adrenaline and a sense of duty drove him onward, thoughts Black forgotten in the moment, as he searched to help whoever had yelled out. In his panic, he tripped over a small stone and hit the ground hard. He rolled over and over down the hill, finally coming to a crashing stop. Snape shook his head back and forth, trying to clear the cobwebs. Through the pain he noticed the air had become very cold, an unnatural chill now clung to him. He was panting hard and could see his freezing breath in the night air. Puzzled he looked up, the sight up ahead sent fear spiking down his spine.

In front of Snape was the edge of the Great Lake, covered in a filmy white mist. A child stood on the shore and floating all around him were dementors – hundreds of them! Snape fought down his fear and reached into his pocket, but his wand was not there. Icy cold began to penetrate his insides and a dense fog creeped into his vision – Snape bravely pushed forward, his mind scrambling for an answer to combat the menacing black mass swirling around the child.

A dementor closed in on the boy, its scabbed hands grabbed at his neck, drawing the child's face up to its rotting mouth…Snape tried to yell out but his voice froze in his lungs.

Snape dropped to his knees in helplessness when suddenly, miraculously, a glowing white light appeared on a distant shore of the lake. It glowed brighter and brighter, washing over the lake and roaring onto the cold shore. The blinding light engulfed the dementors and the terrified boy, a hot white star. Snape shut his eyes tight and threw his arms towards the heavens, welcoming the patronus. It felt so inviting – a hot protective towel to shield him – he became impervious to the dark chill of the night.

When Snape opened his eyes the dementors had scattered like cockroaches from a flashlight. He waited with baited breath for Dumbledore to appear, relief washing over him that the headmaster had been nearby to drive the dark fiends away. Only a powerful patronus could have pushed back so many of those floating black terrors.

Snape's relief soon turned to impatience, and then to anger as Dumbledore failed to appear. Where was he? What was he waiting for? His continued lollygagging this year had already caused enough hardship! Snape struggled to his feet and wobbly made his way to the shore. There lay Potter and the Granger girl – unconscious and ice cold. Their lips were a worrying shade of blue and their skin was clammy to the touch. Snape waved his wand over them, quietly muttering "Rennervate" – the children remained motionless and their shallow breathing did not improve.

Snape again looked out across the lake to the distant shore, silently hoping Dumbledore to reveal himself. Nothing moved in the darkness and panic took hold once again – what if the dementors came back? He pointed his wand and waved it authoritatively towards the hill he had stumbled down earlier. Soon a stretcher came floating down, Ron's limp body ensconced within. With another flourish of his wand, Snape conjured two more stretchers out of thin air. He lifted Harry and Hermoine into them and began floating the children back to the castle when a raspy cough echoed out to his right.

A surge of electricity passed through Snape as he realized what had made the sound – it was a mess of tangled hair and filthy robes. Severus forgot all about the stretchers and the dire state of children – he hesitantly tip toed towards the man lying on the ground. Sirius Black lay wounded and unconscious on the shore, completely unprotected. His robes were in tatters and deep slashes lined his chest. His breath was feeble, as if there was barely any air left in his lungs. Snape stood over the broken man, deciding.

Snape once again looked to the far shore for any sign of Dumbledore, but this time it was because he did not want to see the headmaster. Where had Dumbledore gone? Was he watching me now? Was it him who had saved us? Why had no one appeared? Where had the mysterious savior gone?

Snape looked back down at Black – the mass murderer who had taken so many innocent lives. Snape's hand tightened around his wand, the knuckles turning white. He kicked out at Black's head, the toe of his boot smacking a tangled knot of bloody hair.

It would be so easy to take this rotten life – right here, right now. Not just easy, it was the right thing to do. This man was a psychotic lunatic – he had killed, lied and betrayed his entire life. He had proven that not even Azkaban could contain him. He was an arrogant bastard, pure evil, he had made my life a ruined mess. If Black had never existed my life would be so different right now – I'd be happy and full, I'd be completely whole. Snape pointed his wand towards Black…it would be so easy.

Snape looked up once again. He stared off to the shore where the patronus had magnificently emerged from – he searched earnestly for any sign of movement among the trees. Nothing. He was alone.

I could blame the dementors or the deranged werewolf. I could say it was self-defense. I would be a hero…

…Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.

"The dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn't moved.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face.

"I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeated.

Snape took a step toward Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly.

Snape turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding.

Snape stomped down the hallway, alight with barely contained fury. Fudge had to break into a small trot to keep up with the furious potions master. Fudge spoke to him, but the Slytherin was in such a state of disbelief at Dumbledore's words that he didn't catch a word that the Minister uttered. A mutinous scowl wrapped itself around Snape's pale face and his eyes turned a troubling red – his teeth were clenched so tightly it seemed as though they might shatter at any moment. Fudge reached out and shook the angry man's shoulder.

"Huh – what?"

"Are you all right young man?"

"What? Yes, yes I'm fine…it's just that I…only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," Snape replied. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the Daily Prophet that we've got him at last. . . . I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape . . . and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the Prophet exactly how you saved him. . . ."

Snape gave Fudge a knowing smirk as they continued down the corridor.

"…come now, let's get downstairs to gather the dementors and explain the situation. We can then bring them up to administer the Kiss. Black's on the seventh floor, correct?"

"Yes, the seventh floor. In Professor Flitwick's office." Snape stopped suddenly and looked back down the hallway.

Fudge gave Snape a tight smile and squeezed his arm. "Amazing what you did today Severus, simply amazing. I promise you I'll do my best to make sure you receive all the proper recognition for the capture. Order of Merlin, First Class! That's what awaits you in the future my boy!"

Snape looked at the Minister of Magic with unfocused eyes, as if he were seeing him through an opaque veil. "What? First class? Oh yes, thank you." Snape turned back to the corridor behind him – directly at the closed door to the hospital wing. He then turned back to Fudge, his eyes burning with intensity. "Minister you must hurry. Go get the dementors at once! Time is of the essence!"

"Right you are Severus. Why don't you lead the – hey! Where are you going?!"

Snape had taken off down the corridor, headed for a large set of circular stairs. He sprinted up four flights without pause, knocking aside several bewildered students. An awful sense of foreboding filled him with each step, he could sense something was wrong – terribly wrong! Why hadn't he objected earlier to having Black kept up there all alone? Not even one guard? The maniac was able to escape Azkaban! A teacher's old office could barely contain misbehaving students!

Snape slipped as he reached the seventh floor, slamming his knee on the cold stone floor. He rose to his feet, ignoring the stabbing pain shooting through his leg. Eyes watering, Snape reached the door to Professor Flitwick's office and tried to wrench it open. It was locked up, tight as drum. He slipped out his wand and pointed it at the door knob – "Alohomora!"

He heard the lock slide out of place and then flung the door open. He limped into the room like a wounded, crazed animal – his wand raised and poised to fire at anything that moved. But the office was empty, only a gentle breeze flowing within. Snape followed the feel of the wind…it was coming from an open window towards the back of the office. Snape rushed across and stuck his head out into the night air, but not one trace of the murderer remained. Snape slumped to the floor in a crumbled heap, he had failed his Lily flower once again.

He wrapped his arms around his knees and hugged them tight to his chest, bowing his head and letting tears leak from his red eyes. How could I have let this happen again? Why hadn't I stayed at Black's side the entire night? Why did I continue to put my faith and trust in Dumbledore? What more must I do to prove myself to him? He believed that dim witted child's story over mine?! That insufferable child…Potter! Snape's head snapped up, a deep fury emanating from him.

…Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!"

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw —"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —"

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward…

…he blazed down the hospital corridor and through a long spiral staircase. It was like the red sea parting – the few students that were still up immediately moved out of his way, for the twisted look on the potions master's face was terrifying. Snape burst through the school doors and strode out into the dark night.

His head was spinning – how had Black escaped? Potter must've helped him do it, but how? It didn't make any sense – how had the child escaped the hospital wing…a broom perhaps? No! He used the invisibility cloak! But how did he get up to the seventh floor and back down so quickly? None of tonight's events made any sense! No explanation seemed plausible. I'm missing something, some crucial piece. What was it?! The old fool knows, oh he knows good and well what happened here tonight! That goddamn smile plastered all over his face back there!

Snape began running, not knowing where his feet were leading him, just knowing that he had to get away from the castle. He began releasing his mind and hot tears finally came, sluicing down his stony face. They were tears of anger and frustration, tears of hot shame. Can I do nothing right? Such a wasted and worthless life I've led. All my planning, all my suspicions and what did they lead to – nothing! I could've done more. I could've caught Lupin in the act earlier this year. I could've searched harder for Black!

Snape ran by the school greenhouse, past Hagrid's hut and into the Forbidden Forest. He wanted to encounter something dark and dangerous tonight – he didn't have a plan, just wanted something bad to happen. There were dangers hidden deep within the forest and tonight there was even a werewolf on the loose. Snape silently prayed to come across the beast, yearning to kill or be killed.

He heard a howl resound from deep within the trees and screamed with fury at it, "I'm here! Right here! You hear me Lupin?! I'm right here!"

Snape pushed deeper into the forest, thick weeds pulling at his feet and gnarly branches scraping his face. He could hear Hagrid behind him, but he ignored the game keeper's worried voice and pushed further into the enveloping darkness. Eventually his energy began to fade – the events of the night and the dead sprint through the night brush had taken their toll and sapped him of his strength.

Snape stumbled into a clearing and spied something in the shadows – what was that? He raised his wand and fired spells indiscriminatingly all around him. Streaks of red and green flashed from his wand and soared in the darkness, smashing into trees and the cold ground. Wood splintered from tree trunks and the ground erupted in an angry blaze of dirt and rock. Tonight Snape was the most dangerous and unhinged creature lurking about the Forbidden Forest.

Snape swayed on his feet, a delirious punch drunk fighter at the end of a 12 round fight – the highs and lows of the day, the concussive pain in his head, an overwhelming frustration of being denied justice. He threw his wand at an imaginary foe and sagged to his knees, welcoming whatever may threat might come his way. With a heavy sigh his eyes fluttered close, his arms fell listlessly to his sides and Severus Snape collapsed.

Once again Snape opened his eyes to find himself on cold ground, disoriented and unsure of his surroundings. His whole body ached, his head pulsed with waves of soreness. Snape licked his lips and tasted dried blood mixed with dirt. He pushed himself up to an elbow and looked around – only the quiet sounds of a sleeping forest and a white moon.

Snape collected his bearings and began searching for his wand – a wizard always felt naked and incomplete without it by his side. He began groping blindly along the ground, when a shifting in the trees drew his eye.

Dumbledore stood silently under the shade of a large elm tree, whispering to a large centaur. The centaur had broad shoulders a powerful body, rippled with hard muscles sculpted from hard years living in the forest. The man-horse had white-blond hair and a palomino coat. His eyes were an astonishingly vivid blue and alive with ancient intelligence. The centaur nodded as Dumbledore spoke, eyeing Snape with a mixture of curiosity and disappointment.

Snape spied his wand lying to his left, nestled in a soft mound of grass. He slowly reached for it and rose to his feet, rolling the wand around in his fingers as if he were examining it for signs of disrepair. Snape began to close down his mind and shut his pain away. In its place flowed smoldering hatred, warming him like hot lava. Snape slowly bent into a runner's crouch and then exploded towards Dumbledore.

He gave off a guttural scream and waved his wand wildly at the headmaster, firing continuous bursts of red light. Dumbledore waved away each red burst with casual flicks of his hand, sending the red streams harmlessly into the ground. Explosions rocked all around the clearing, echoing throughout the forest. The centaur began to whine and stomp his hooves in nervousness, slinking back into the shadows whereas Dumbledore's face remained as tranquil as ever.

Snape continued to let loose incoherent screams as he closed in on the waiting headmaster. When he was a few yards away, Snape threw his wand at Dumbledore in angry frustration. It whistled by Dumbledore's head and clattered into the brush behind him. Snape continued running towards Dumbledore and slid to a stop mere inches from the old man's face.

"I know you had a hand in his escape! I know it! How could you? How could you believe children over me? Why did you even hire me?! I'm done with this place, done with you! I'm not staying at Hogwarts another second longer!"

"Where would you go my boy?"

"Anywhere and everywhere. I'm going to spend my remaining time on this planet hunting down Lily's true killer!"

"Sirius is an innocent man. He was the victim of a horrible deceit Severus – we all were."

"Liar!" Snape jabbed an accusing finger into Dumbledore's chest. "You helped the traitor escape, didn't you? Didn't you?!" Snape grasped the collar of Dumbledore's robe and pulled the headmaster close to his face. Spittle flew from Snape's mouth as he screamed, "Don't lie to me!"

"I did."

Without thinking, losing total control and moving unconsciously, Snape reared his fist back like an angry viper and punched Dumbledore square across his face. His fist smacked into Dumbledore's cheek and powered through, slicing a deep gash. Soon the white beard was flaked with dark spots of red. The old man grunted and stumbled a step back, but otherwise made no acknowledgement of the attack.

Snape drew his fist back again – it hung heavy with hate and he stared into Dumbledore's blue eyes. His held his fist high in the air, like a waiting axe that could thunder down at any second. Dumbledore continued to meet Snape's gaze with a sad look.

Snape red eyes flashed back to black and he slowly lowered his hand, finally coming to his senses and controlling the frustrated anger that roiled within him. He stormed off from calm headmaster – "You've gone too far this time, letting that killer go simply because the boy said so! You take too much for granted Dumbledore. I quit! Find another peasant to carry on your lies!"

The centaur appeared back through the shadows and sauntered up to the headmaster, the pair of them watching Snape disappear into the forest. The centaur stooped low, picked up a pair cracked spectacles and handed them to Dumbledore.

"I believe this belongs to you."

"Thank you Firenze."

"I did not think it was my place to intercede."

"Right you are my friend, it was between us and no one else. Master Snape had every right to feel betrayed. I purposely kept him in the dark and misled him this evening."

"The man seems completely unhinged and dangerous, you would be wise to exercise caution with him."

"He has suffered extreme distress tonight."

"I don't care what took place, he had no right to put his hands upon you. If he had not just quit his post, I would've advised you to sack him over that pathetic display. The time has come for you to find a new potions master."

"I don't believe that will be necessary my friend."

"How so?"

"My brooding potions master quits at the end every school year, but I always refuse to accept his resignation."

"But why? You're too forgiving with your flock sometimes. Let him go headmaster. You think this troubled man needs you?"

Dumbledore gently stroked the back of the centaur's neck, which would have been a sign of extreme disrespect had it come from any other wizard on the planet.

"No my friend, I don't think he needs me at all. But I need him."