Chapter 24: In Defense of Severus Snape
Clad it suits and ties, Harry and Ron waited outside the fishbowl glass conference room in the Ministry of Magic. The boys nervously fidgeted with their shirt collars and cufflinks. From around the corner, a clacking of heels could now be heard, announcing Hermione as she now appeared, crossing the obsidian tiled floors that came from just off the Ministry atrium. She looked very well put-together in a creamy business suit with matching skirt.
"Hi," she greeted breathlessly, reaching up to kiss Ron softly on the lips. "Am I late?"
Harry made a show of glancing at his watch. "As punctual as ever, poppet." Hermione attempted a half-hearted swat at him in offense of his cheek, though she was smiling.
Ron slid an arm about her waist. "As pretty as ever, too, I should say." Hermione blushed pink at his praise.
Gawain Robards now emerged from the conference room and took in the Golden Trio. "Ah, Miss Granger. Lovely. We're just about to start; if you young people would please follow me…."
Harry and his friends followed the Head Auror into the conference room. Seated at a long, mahogany table were the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Interim Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Headmistress of Hogwarts Minerva McGonagall. Everyone shook hands in turn, with Hermione hugging her Head of House warmly.
"Enjoying spring break, my dear?"
"Just fine, Professor; I've been splitting time between Ron's and my parents…."
"Oh, please, Minerva, dear. You're nearly a graduate."
Hermione grinned. "I can't believe it…." Harry couldn't really either. Hermione and Ginny both seemed to be gripped with spring fever, as the anticipation of leaving Hogwarts for good marched steadily closer to reality. The girls were spending more and more weekends at home now, unless there was a Hogsmeade visit that Saturday week or a Quidditch match where Ginny and Gryffindor were playing.
"Don't waste away the weeks, my girl," McGonagall was telling Hermione. "They go by fast enough already…."
"If we're all ready to begin…." Robards called the meeting to order. The Golden Trio took seats across from the high-level government officials. A portly looking wizard who Harry believed was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement now passed a group of files marked CLASSIFIED in Robards' direction, sliding them down the conference table.
"Right…. as you all are no doubt aware, the 1st anniversary of the singular event now being referred to as the Battle of Hogwarts is approaching in a matter of weeks. Since the morning of the 2nd of May last year, there has been a consensus that some form of a commemoration should and shall take place." There was a moment as Robards paused for effect impressively. "To that end, my team and I, in conjunction with the Minister for Magic's office, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Hogwarts staff, have been formulating a proposal to hold a day of mourning on that date, the second of May, from now into perpetuity. Survivors and their families have been surveyed for their ideas on how best to do this, and we think we have now come to an appropriate consensus." He now took several copies of file folders and began passing them out, sliding the files up and down and across the conference table. "If you all would please refer to the first page in these packets…"
Harry, Ron and Hermione opened the files. There was only a moment or two of silence before Ron, his eyes scanning the document, turned away and began to sob quietly. Hermione wordlessly rubbed his back.
Robards watched his one subordinate with a sad smile of sympathy. "After a nearly year-long investigation, we have verified the names of every brave wizard and witch who died a soldier on the field of battle, under the banners of either the Order of the Phoenix, the Order of Mercy, or the student guerilla group known as Dumbledore's Army. The lattermost, of course, which shall be henceforth referred to as an official branch of the Ministry of Magic which acted in both its defense and its name."
"You're taking the credit for the DA?" Harry frowned, surprised.
"Not as such, Mr. Potter – naturally, the credit for the Army's founding will be regarded for history as going solely to you, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. We are merely conferring upon the DA its due status as an Army acting on behalf and in defense of the Ministry of Magic. These…. brave soldiers rightly saw the enemy, formed a wizarding armed force, closed in on them, and attacked the enemy and destroyed him in the finest tradition of the Armed Forces of the Magical and Wizarding Realms. As such, any and all members confirmed to have ever been affiliated with Dumbledore's Army shall be granted automatic Orders of Merlin, Second Class, with the possibility of promotion to First Class depending on actions taken, and either living or posthumous ranks in the same said Armed Forces of the Magical and Wizarding Realms. That includes many of the Names of the Fallen you see listed here…"
Ron's eyes suddenly gleamed. "Does this mean DA members will be getting their own Chocolate Frog cards?"
Robards seemed to barely refrain from rolling his eyes. "Yes, Weasley, all wizards and witches awarded an Order of Merlin, First to Third Class, are immediately put into consideration for their likenesses to be on a Chocolate Frog Card."
"Brilliant!" Ron grinned. Hermione took the liberty of rolling her eyes on Robards' behalf.
"While we are on the subject," Robards continued, "My office and I are opening a separate, internal investigation to determine whether the actions of you three warrant an Order of Merlin, Class yet to be determined, and with that, possible likenesses on a Chocolate Frog Card. Be advised that the verification process may take some time – years, even, perhaps. We pride our system on its careful discernment, similar to how Catholics are awarded sainthood, or how Medal of Honor recipients are recommended and chosen in the States. It's a very exhaustive process that will require character references from witnesses and the like. I ask that you each be patient as we resolve this matter."
Hermione was quietly wiping at her eyes, overwhelmed. Carrot top of red hair bent into his file folder, Ron was scanning line by line, now counting the names of the Fallen quietly.
"I…. bloody hell, these tears…" He wiped at his eyes also, trying to see well enough to count. "How many are there?"
"Fifty on the nose. Counted them myself," Robards relayed gravely.
Hermione let out a shuddering breath. "I honestly was expecting higher…"
"One loss is too high a price, Miss Granger, let alone fifty," Kingsley opined solemnly.
Ron had now paused over one name in particular. At first, Harry assumed, he was staring at his brother Fred's name, but then he noticed the bitter, almost angry expression on Ron's face.
"I still don't see why Snape's ruddy name is on here…"
"Which brings us to the next item on the agenda," Robards segued. He fixed his stare upon Harry as he passed a glass vial over to the boy. Harry noted with relief how the strands of liquid memory within still glistened, never able to evaporate nor be absorbed by the glass. "Upon encouragement from the likes of Mr. Potter and a few others, I opened an investigation to account for the actions of Severus Tobias Snape taken before and during the Second Wizarding War. After nearly a year of investigation, my office and I have come to the following conclusions: Mr. Snape shall be appropriately commemorated and claimed as one of our dead; as such, his name shall be read aloud at the Battle Commemoration ceremony on every May 2nd forthwith. In addition, his name shall be inscribed in gold, along with the other names of the Fallen Fifty, on a plaque which shall hang in the castle Entrance Hall. Mr. Snape shall also be awarded an Order of Merlin…. First Class…." (Harry grinned, pleased; Ron balked, grumbling) "…. for his now-confirmed actions as a double agent serving our side during the same Second Wizarding War."
Harry sat back, satisfied.
"However," Robards held up a finger. "Upon further, and impartial review, the Wizengamot and all other parties involved have hereby ruled that we shall not recognize Mr. Snape with, nor confer upon him, the title and rank of Hogwarts Headmaster."
Harry blinked. "What?" From either side of him, he could feel both Hermione and Ron staring at him, bristling, but he ignored them in favor of gawking at Minerva McGonagall, who now had her head bowed and her eyes averted. "But…. all due respect, Mr. Head Auror, but this is outrageous! It's unfair!"
"To the contrary, Mr. Potter, I would say these conclusions are very fair," Robards countered firmly.
"So when our children open up their Hogwarts: A History texts decades from now, who shall they see listed as Headmaster from 1997-1998? Will it just be a blank picture? The year skipped over?"
"The Magical Historical Society has put forward a recommendation that no person or persons shall be formally recognized as having held the post of Headmaster during that year," Robards explained.
"No persons?" Harry lifted an eyebrow. His gaze turned to McGonagall. "Not even you?"
"Harry!" Hermione hissed, shocked and mortified at the hard edge she detected in his voice.
This time, McGonagall did not back down. "Severus did not fulfill his oath to preserve, protect and defend our magical children against all enemies, foreign and domestic. He allowed insurgents to occupy our sacred space and commit acts of domestic terrorism and violence upon innocents. There has never been a greater betrayal by a Headmaster of Hogwarts, or anyone laying claim to the title, of his oath of office."
"He fulfilled that oath in ways that you don't understand, and in some ways which might never be fully known!" Harry shot back, hotly.
Ron tugged on Harry's suit coat sleeve. "Mate, McGonagall's right. Why are you defending the greasy git?"
"Because it's the right thing to do!" Harry rounded on Robards. "So what is to be done about the tradition of hanging previous Headmasters's portraits in Dumbledo – the Headmaster's office?"
"Naturally, Mr. Snape's shall not be among them."
"Well, I object!"
"Duly noted," Robards grunted.
Harry all but glared at the representatives across the table in turn. "Reverse this decision. Declare that Snape's portrait shall be hung duly in the Headmaster's office as having been a previous occupant in the role of Headmaster."
"Or what?" Kingsley challenged.
Harry's mind raced for a card to play. He found one, and played it. "Or I walk from the Auror Program." Robards didn't appear in any way moved. "And I will not endorse the commemoration proceedings as laid out."
That got most of them; even Ron and Hermione appeared offended. A muscle in Robards' jaw rolled. "Remember your place, boy."
"I am and I do," Harry stared back firmly, unbowed. "I don't like to wield the power I have, but when it is necessary, I shall wield it."
Robards stared, incensed. "Who do you think you are? Newt Gingrich?"
"Nay, Mr. Head Auror. I'm no obstructionist. I'm just the Boy Who Saved All Your Arses." Harry ignored Hermione and McGonagall both letting out gasps of dramatic horror at his language. He rose, pushing back his chair deliberately while placing both hands steadily upon the conference table. "I fight for what's fair. Even where others think fairness need not be pursued. If we don't act impartially, we're no better than the Death Eaters. We must act with charity for all and malice towards none except those deemed evil enough to truly deserve it. At present, I still do not believe that the actions Mr. Snape may have taken against us rise to such a level as to warrant this slight." He paused. "If there is nothing further to discuss, then I say good afternoon to you, ladies and gentlemen."
He swept from the conference room. After a beat in which they looked at each other, astonished and horrified, Ron and Hermione awkwardly scrambled after him.
"Harry… HARRY!"
Harry ignored Hermione's almost scolding calls of his name, only pausing long enough for his friends to catch up to him before they all held hands and he pulled them into Disapparating.
Harry dropped his friends' hands the second they arrived at the Destination point, beginning a long walk along the fields and rolling hills of Devonshire back to the Burrow. Though he could hear Ron and Hermione whispering heatedly at his back, neither made a move to speak to him.
As the Trio passed by the Rook, standing tall and proud in the distance, Ron jerked his head towards it. "So, what did Gin say happen between Lu and our Neville, anyway?"
Hermione sighed tiredly. "Apparently, Luna is leaving on magical zoology safari with her father after graduation. They'll be gone for an entire year."
"She broke it off with Neville – a top man – because she'll be out of the country on safari? For an entire year?" Ron ogled. "Seems right insane, if you ask me."
Hermione smiled primly. "Relationships don't always work through a separation, especially one long distance."
"We were separated for a time, long distance, and we made it work," Ron pointed out.
Hermione let out an affronted little snort. "If you're referring to the time when you left your best friend – when you left me – on the Hunt, even though I understand now that was not entirely your choice, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, love, but that doesn't count! There was nothing to break off. You and I weren't together then!"
"Oh, bollocks!" Harry scoffed, not quite under his breath.
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, you heard right. You may not feel that you were together, but you lot damn sure acted as though you were!"
"When?" Hermione demanded, her timbre somewhere between angered and amused.
"At Bill and Fleur's wedding. Viktor Krum actually asked me if you and Ron were together, and I had to say sort of!"
"Sort of?" Ron stared at his best mate. "You either are in a relationship, or you're not!"
"All right. You were, then."
Hermione snorted. "Not according to me. Or Ronald. And those, my dear Harry, are the only opinions that count!" There was something in her tone that seemed to suggest she wasn't just talking about the precise origin point of her and Ron's relationship status. Harry flinched, looking hurt. Was this what it was like to be a third wheel? When your best friends fell in love and became romantically involved? Thrilled as he was for Ron and Hermione, Harry wasn't sure he altogether liked where that left him.
The Trio prowled into the kitchen, where Ginny was waiting to greet them.
"Hey, how was the big meeting?" she inquired. Her brother answered by way of a grunt. "That bad, really?"
"Ask this bleeding-heart tosser!" Ron pointed the finger at Harry. Ginny turned to her boyfriend, hands on her hips.
"What did you do now?"
"OI! Whatever happened to standing by your man?"
"That depends on what my man did," Ginny bantered back prissily. "Now what did you do, Potter?"
"He threw a tantrum because Robards wouldn't allow the Greasy Git's portrait to hang in the Headmaster's Office," Ron explained casually.
Tense silence. Ginny's expression seemed clouded and stormy. Her eyes narrowed at Harry.
"You what?" she whispered, the softness of her voice doing nothing to belie her rage.
"Gin…. It's what's right!"
"Oh, so having that monster's portrait stand with the likes of Dumbledore and McGonagall and Armando Dippett is right?!" Ginny blasted. Her body was brimming with pent-up energy; she looked as though she wanted to lash out physically. Punch a wall. Punch Harry. "He was never a Headmaster, and so help me Merlin, I will never recognize that man as such!" Her voice shook with righteous fervor.
"Ginny…."
"I THOUGHT YOU UNDERSTOOD!" Ginny blasted, near tears. "What Neville and Lu and I and all the others went through!"
"I do!"
"Do you?" Ginny bit back acerbically. "Then explain to me why you're advocating that someone who showed such dishonor to the office he supposedly held should now be officially recognized by history as having had that honor!"
Harry paused, weighing his words. "Because it's the right thing to do."
Ginny gaped at him. "…. Is that all?"
"Yes," Harry said grimly, honestly. "What else do you want me to say?"
"Oh, gee, I dunno. How about, 'I'm sorry, love; I understand your feelings'?"
"I do, Ginny…. But don't pretend as though your feelings are the only ones that should count." He glanced pointedly back at Hermione, who seemed stunned at having her own words appropriated in use against her. "Severus Snape did many terrible things, things that were known and seemed to be…."
"Seemed to be….? They were terrible!"
"…. Seemed to be in service against our cause! In the service of evil!" Harry talked over Ginny. "Just as there were also good actions he took, many of them in secret and at risk to his own life, to protect you students, even you, Ginevra." Ginny blinked upon hearing the use of her full name. "My interest now is to make sure that those good things Snape did do are appropriately honored and not lost to history. He needs to have a fair accounting of the things he did and didn't do, as a double agent." He studied Ginny, trying to be compassionate. "You only saw the evil side of him, and I'm sorry that you had to go through that." (Ginny wouldn't look at him, glowering). "But someone can hate him for what he did, just as someone else can praise him for what he did, the risks he took. It all comes down to a certain point of view."
"A certain point of view?" Ginny whispered, bewildered.
"Ginny, you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view."
"So now you're quoting philosophy," Ginny sniffed, scoffing.
"Actually, he's quoting some Muggle galaxy movie – Star Trek."
"Nope, wrong answer," Harry muttered.
"Space Balls," Ron tried again.
"Space Balls is the parody, Ron. The movie is called Star Wars!"
"Yeah, and it's right daffy! Can you believe it that someone decided to make three of those things, and a fourth apparently due out month after next? Just one was more than enough!"
"If you're quite finished!" Harry snapped impatiently. He turned back to Ginny. "My point of view is different than yours. And that's fine. But one point of view should not be given greater deference at the expense of another."
Ginny ogled him. "Except that's exactly what you're aiming for! You think that your opinion should be the one that carries the day over mine, or Neville's, or Ron's!"
"An opinion always has to carry the day, Ginny – that's democracy."
Ginny stewed. "You're just mad that the opinion that carried the day today wasn't yours."
Harry bristled at this, even as he had to admit that on some level, Ginny was right. He couldn't help but admire his girl's intellectual dexterity. She could debate with the best of them. "I'm just trying to do the right thing – see from all sides. Make a full accounting of history. We can vilify Snape for what he did wrong, while also praising and honoring him for what he did right…. even if we can't always see the Forbidden Forest for the trees." He paused. "You know… I can't help but think of my father at this moment…"
"How are your father and Snape in any way comparable?" Ginny spluttered. "Your father was a great man!"
"My father was also a bully," Harry countered. "He, Sirius and Pettigrew knocked about other students weaker than they were, including and especially Snape. I have the Pensieve memories to prove it, and when I confronted Sirius and Remus about it, they didn't deny it! Hell, my mum wouldn't even agree to go out with my dad unless he grew up! They didn't get together until their seventh year."
Ginny hugged herself, though the revelation about Harry's dad seemed to shock her. "What does this have to do with Snape?"
"Everything. Insomuch as where both he and my dad are concerned, I can now see the full picture of who they each were as people: flawed men who did some good things, but also made mistakes, same as anyone else." He laid a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "For what it's worth, it took me some time to come around and accept the darker side of my dad. I know it will take you so time to see the goodness in Snape, and I'm more than willing to give it to you."
Ginny snorted. "You'll be waiting for a long time…." she muttered.
Harry smiled at her patiently. "Time, I have." He brushed past his girlfriend and headed for the stairs, leading up to his and Ron's shared room. He could feel the vial of Pensieve memories bouncing about in his breast pocket in the same way that voices now bounced around in his head:
My father was a great man!
Your father was a swine! …
Crossing Ron's room, Harry ignored the piles of his clothes set aside and about, the half-open suitcase in one corner. He was making preliminary sweeps at packing for when he would soon be moving out to Grimmauld Place. His goal was to have everything sorted over there in time for Ginny's graduation in June, when she would hopefully still join him. After the argument downstairs just now, Harry wondered if she still would. Just the same, he would have to find a way to properly thank Molly and Arthur for letting him stay more than past his welcome.
Opening the closet, Harry watched as a stone basin slid out of it.
McGonagall had gifted Dumbledore's Pensieve to Harry soon after the war. The Headmistress had claimed that Albus would have wanted him to have it. Procuring the vial of memories, Harry deposited them safely back into the swirling basin, where they belonged.
Then he plunged his head in.
All of Snape's memories which he had seen the night of May 2nd were played back, interspersed with some other memories that Harry knew he must have also seen that night, but which hadn't registered in all the shock of his point of view being so inverted – at least, not until later. He had only extracted the recollections he felt would be most relevant to Robards and his investigation.
One such new memory now showed Snape – who couldn't be older than fifth year - in the Slytherin Common Room, slouching and sulking and initially ignoring whatever the younger classmate before him had to say.
"Not in the bloody mood, Urquhart…"
"You'll want to hear this, Snape!" Urquhart's eyes gleamed. "There is to be a Dueling Contest on All Hallow's Eve, and Potter and his Marauders are fixing to win it!"
Harry watched. So this had to have been before Severus and his mother had their falling out, which wouldn't occur until the following spring. Severus lifted his head, interest piqued. "Go on…."
"And then there's the rumors about that Mu…..ggle-born," Urquhart grinned lasciviously, ignoring or more likely not registering how Snape's form rippled with barely restrained indignation, even after the other boy had in the nick of time corrected himself. "Evans. They say she's going to give a snog to the winner!..."
Severus's eyes gleamed. "A snog to the winner?"
Urquhart smirked. "You thinking of registering?"
Severus shrugged. "The suggested reward seems but a pittance," he lied. Then he grinned wickedly. "But the chance to show up Potter and his pack of baboons? Priceless."
The scene shifted. There was now a dueling ring set on platforms in the Great Hall, similar to the one on which Snape and Lockhart, and then Harry and Malfoy, had faced off in Harry's second year. Harry now observed as a near carbon copy of himself save for the eyes and a young Snape now faced off against each other, their wands slashing the air. Both boys' faces were grotesque in their snarls; it was clear they were fighting to kill.
"Sectumsempra!" Snape bellowed, gouging a gash into Harry's father's cheek.
James Potter came roaring back with an answer. "Stupefy!" A red bolt of light caught Snape square in the chest. James came at him again. "Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"
Again and again the red bolts of light rained down on Severus's unconscious body, keeping him that way so that he wouldn't have the chance to get up, much less come to, for a while. Cheers rang out from the students as a smug James was proclaimed the winner of the duel, a ref lifting his fist on high. Then more cheers could be heard as a herd of students shepherded Harry's mother, flushing red with embarrassment, up to the stage. Lily's first instinct was to ignore the winner completely in favor of running fearfully to Severus, bending over him.
"Sev….?"
"Oi, Evans!" Potter hollered. "Leave him be! Where's my snog, eh?"
Lily's auburn curls danced like tongues of flame as she whipped around to glower at her future husband hatefully. "I'd sooner kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt, Potter! And anyway, I'd never snog someone who didn't win fair and square!" James looked deeply hurt at the insinuation that he had in any way dueled dirty.
Lily now helped a rousing Severus to his feet. "Come on, love…. On your feet…." The pair of best friends hobbled away.
The memory shifted yet again, this time opening on an empty room, which Harry thought may have been the Room of Requirement. Harry started at the sight of his mother, naked and embracing and kissing an equally bare Severus. From where he spooned her from behind, Lily took Severus's palm and guided it to amorously cup the swell of her bare breast. She kissed, snogged him hungrily and the pair of best mates now took on the tenor of lovers as they fell back onto the soft bed.
Swinging her legs over Severus's hips as she moved to straddle him, Lily spread her legs for the man, who was shaking with wonder and awe beneath her, perhaps thinking he was lost in some sort of dream. Lily bent over Severus and whispered in his ear:
"For the true winner…."
She made love to him. No doubt she took the bloke's virginity, as the pair moaned and rocked against each other, having passionate sex. After Lily had cum, and Severus brought to orgasm along with her, the lost and ugly duckling Slytherin told the beautiful Gryffindor witch that he loved her.
Lily didn't say it back, though something in her green eyes seemed to betray otherwise. A sadness, almost. Severus's palms winding about her to grip her bare shoulders, she went down on him again….
Harry rose up out of the Pensieve with tears in his eyes, oddly moved. The memory of seeing his mother having relations with a man who was not his father should have disturbed him. If even a few things had gone differently, Harry suspected Lily might not have married James, thereby ensuring that he, Harry, would never have existed. Never been born. As it was, he could now see Snape's memory from that day by the lake more clearly, with a new and added context. The parting of ways between Harry's mother and the future Death Eater had been more painful than he had known.
Harry locked the Pensieve carefully and moved it back into his and Ron's closet. He would have to find some way to transfer the basin to Grimmauld Place, as probably one of the last things to be moved, before he officially made the jump in his address.
Dragging himself to bed, an exhausted Harry collapsed across the mattress and fell into a deep sleep.