Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed.
I make no money, I mean no harm.
Patchwork
Misdirection
So this is Privet Drive, Snape thought as he scanned the street. He was aware of the street's name and it's general position on the map, yet he never bothered to visit. Until now.
He contemplated the elf standing beside him. He looked a mess; Petunia would surely love it. Once he lifted the Disillusionment Charm.
"Come, it's this way." He started towards the house and the elf trailed behind him, looking around curiously. Snape noticed a woman peeking over the hedge around her garden, looking up and down the street, clearly intrigued by the sound of Apparition. She looked at Snape suspiciously and he realised he could have covered himself with the charm as well, after all Muggles rarely dressed in robes as he did. He scowled at the woman and she hastily retreated inside her house.
Petunia must have been really busy doing whatever it was she did these days, because it took her over five minutes to answer the door. When she did, she frowned at Snape in disgust.
"You," she spat instead of a greeting.
"Hello, Petunia, nice to see that you remember me," Snape answered as pleasantly as he could. "Shall we come in? We won't keep you long." And he moved past her, motioning for Kreacher to follow.
"How about you go out right... WHAT IS THAT?" Petunia screamed. Snape had dropped the Disillusionment Charm and Petunia saw Kreacher for the first time, a somewhat dirty tiny being standing on her immaculate carpet.
"That is Kreacher, a house elf. Harry inherited him with his house and now, well..." Snape found it hard to find the right words but Petunia didn't seem to notice.
"Harry! Where is he? What happened to him?" she interjected.
"He died," Snape said bluntly. Hearing that, Kreacher plopped down on Petunia's carpet, not caring she probably wanted to keep it immaculate, and started crying again, wailing, "Master Harry," and, "poor Kreacher," in between sobs.
"He... he died?" Snape did not expect Petunia to not know and he didn't expect her to care much, either, but he seemed to be wrong on both counts. She stumbled backwards, clutching her heart, and hit an ugly vase with her elbow. The vase fell to ground and shattered, which in Snape's opinion significantly improved the room.
Petunia, however, looked down at the broken shards with sorrow.
"Oh, Kreacher can fix that for you," Snape said nonchalantly, and the elf sprang up.
"Yes, Kreacher fixes that for Master Harry's aunt!"
"No, don't touch that, you filthy thing!"
"Kreacher fixes!" the elf cried happily and clapped his hands. The shards flew up and swirled together to form the vase again, and it landed softly on the spot from which it had fallen. It was still ugly, but elves can only do so much, Snape mused.
Petunia gingerly touched the vase with a tip of her finger and quickly drew her hand back.
"I said don't touch it," she whispered and backed away from it as if the vase could come to life and attack her.
"Kreacher, how did you do it?" Snape asked abruptly.
"Kreacher did basic housekeeping spell." Petunia stood at the wall and looked from one another in bewilderment, apparently content with being forgotten.
"No, I mean - she said not to touch it. You cannot disobey your mistress."
"Master Harry's aunt is not Kreacher's mistress, Master Snape."
"But she's Harry's... well, who is your new Master, then?" Snape asked irritably.
"Master Malfoy." Snape could kick himself.
"Draco Malfoy? Barely of age, blond, son of Narcissa?" he asked to be sure. How Potter's inheritence befell a Malfoy was a mystery and at this point Snape wouldn't be surprised to find that there were more Malfoys to deal with.
The elf nodded.
"What a waste of time! Come, he's at Hogwarts." Snape gestured for the elf to get closer.
"Wait! Snape... Severus, wait... please!"
He turned to face Petunia again. She, as much as the elf, seemed different in a way he could have never anticipated.
"You said... Harry died? He's dead?"
"Yes, indeed," he confirmed.
"But... what happened? Harry was so young."
"He stood up to a homicidal warlock who had been trying to kill him and dominate the world for years at the time. Surely the idea that he might lose his life in the process crossed your mind? Or didn't you bother to ask what was happening to him?" Petunia didn't answer. Her face displayed pain and fear, so Snape continued generously: "Do not worry, though. Harry sacrificed his life but the fight was won. You are safe." She recoiled as if he had slapped her.
"Kreacher, we are leaving," he added impatiently as the elf was sobbing again.
"You says it so nicely," the elf croaked. "Good-bye, aunt of Master Harry!" And Kreacher bowed to Petunia and grabbed Snape's hand. This time the elf took lead in the Apparition and the last of Number 4 Privet Drive Snape saw was Petunia waving her arms trying to stop them from leaving.
Snape looked from the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory to Kreacher and back.
"Your master has been upgraded from the student accomodations," he said finally. "Follow me." He spun and led the way up to the Veterans' place, hoping that Draco would be in. Which he was not.
"Hello, Professor," Granger said as she answered the door. "Kreacher! What are you doing here?"
"Master Snape is taking me to see my new master," the elf answered and bowed curtly.
"I didn't think it wise to leave the elf on his own," Snape added quickly. "Where is Mr. Malfoy?"
"Oh Kreacher - oh, Merlin!" Granger exclaimed and covered her mouth. "I'm so sorry I didn't come to see you! I can't believe I didn't think of it!" She moved as if to touch the elf, but stopped herself, and the elf appeared overcome with emotion yet again.
Snape scowled and gritted his teeth. The day did not go as he had planned at all. Instead of procuring one inexpensive book, he was touring the British Isles with a house elf prone to crying.
"Miss Granger, I would very much like to get this elf to Mister Malfoy, so that he could try to remember what happened to the books from Black Manor. I'm nearly certain one of them was Spells that Defy Snitches," he said forcefully.
"Oh, we moved all the books to Regulus' room, we made a study there. In his honour," she added with a quick glance at Kreacher, who beamed. Snape could swear the elf had a switch between extreme happy and extreme unhappy and just flipped it every now and then.
"You did," Snape said feebly, realising he could have saved himself a trip if he had remembered that Granger had spent nearly a year at the house and probably had gone through all the books there.
"But that book wasn't there, I would remember that," she continued. "Draco is on the Quidditch field practising with a friend, I think. I don't know how he plans to pass Transfiguration this year if he never studies."
"I study enough, thank you very much," Malfoy rebutted to Snape's relief. "Are you really a Gryffindor? You never do anything fun. Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be fun, Professor?" He stopped himself and dropped the playful demeanour as he realised he was talking to Snape.
"Excellent, Mr. Malfoy. Let us take this inside." Snape pushed through the door and gestured for the blond to sit down in the armchair. Granger sat back down on the sofa in front of a pile of, presumably, Transfiguration books and notes.
"Mr. Malfoy, it appears that you inherited Kreacher here," Snape said before anything else could delay him. "Along with, I believe, Black Manor and some other assets - Miss Granger might be more familiar with the details on what that entails."
"Inherited from whom?" Malfoy asked incredulously.
"From Harry, of course!" Granger supplied. "But how did that happen, Professor? Did Harry leave a will?"
"I do not know how," Snape answered. "But house elves know when the ownership passes and to whom, and we may safely presume that either there is a fairly detailed will, or that Mr. Malfoy here simply inherited everything." Snape paused to think for a few seconds. "Perhaps there is a relation between Potters and Malfoys?"
"If there truly was no will, the manor would go back to the Black family," Granger said. "We found some records that indicated spells were put on the property to prevent it from being owned by Muggles, even by passing through another wizarding family - that was a concern at that time - so maybe you inherited it through your mother?"
Malfoy shook his head.
"Aunt Bella would inherit it first. Unless the spells excluded her because she's in Azkaban?" This time Granger shook her head.
"No, nothing like that. That's weird."
"Anyway," Snape said sourly, "I am leaving the elf here and you can figure out the rest without me. What a waste of a morning that was." And he left, looking forward to a few hours of peace. He could grade the second-years' essays, he mused, they were bound to be filled with inane mistakes. A joy to read a hundred of them.
After Snape left, Draco looked at Kreacher who was staring at him expectantly.
"Well, erm..."
"Kreacher," Hermione said helpfully.
"Yeah, I know, I was staying with you for two weeks, remember? Anyway, Kreacher..." The elf perked up.
"Yes, Master Draco?"
"Do you know if Harry left a will?"
"Kreacher knows nothing about a will," the elf shook his head, flapping his ears. Draco sighed.
"Well, that's about as far as I got. Any ideas, Hermione?" The witch shook her head slowly.
"Professor Snape was right, though," she added, staring at the elf. "Kreacher shouldn't stay alone. It's not good for his mental health." She pointedly looked at Draco.
"Oh, that's right." Draco leant forward. "Kreacher, you stay with the Hogwarts elves for now. I will call you if I need you, and in the meantime, help them out to keep yourself busy."
"Yes, Master! Kreacher will work at Hogwarts again, very good!" He bowed to him and also to Hermione, although not as deeply, and disappeared. Draco looked at Hermione curiously.
"Again? When did he..." Draco trailed off. "Are you okay? You look... tired?" he asked carefully.
Hermione shook her head and shut the book she was reading.
"I need a moment," she said and Draco was nearly certain she was going to cry. She fled to her room, leaving all her work behind. Draco himself was feeling like crying. He contemplated calling Kreacher back and ask him for some hot cocoa, that was what his mother would...
He bit his lower lip, forcefully. The memory of his mother bending to feel his forehead came back to him vividly and he blinked to hold back the tears.
Then he decided to stop being stupid, curled up in the armchair and let the tears flow.
Lizzy joined Robert and Eddie in an unused classroom on a third floor. She propped up her broomstick next to the door and pulled a chair to the desk the boys were sitting at.
"So, how far have you gotten?" she asked matter-of-factly.
"We have this," Eddie pointed at a parchment with several bullet points, "and also this," he pointed at another parchment, this one with more erratic scribbles and a few diagrams. Lizzy looked at the latter.
"What is that? Did you find out all about the cold thing in just an hour?" she exclaimed.
"Er... no..." Eddie looked at Robert.
"I had an idea for a card game of mixing potions," Robert started. "You play each ingredient, see, and if the cauldron explodes, you lose!" Lizzy shook her head.
"You boys," she sighed dramatically. "Let's see about the cold thing." She inspected their notes. "So, it lurks below ground level, and it doesn't usually get close to people if they are not alone, except for Robert and me. And it doesn't attack anyone, only the two of us." The boys nodded at that. "It's cold and scary, and I mean really scary," Lizzy continued. "Like the masked killer from the movie."
"Exactly like him!" Robert exclaimed. "That movie was scary, I couldn't sleep properly for... for a week." Eddie looked at him with disdain.
"I thought this movie thing wasn't real?" he asked.
"It's not real, but it's made to look real."
"I just wonder why this thing looks like something a wizard never heard of," Eddie mused. "Is it a Muggle thing? Do you have such things?"
"No," Lizzy shook her head. "Well, in movies and such, sometimes, but no, it's not a Muggle thing. It has to be a wizard thing. But let's put it on the list." She took a quill and added, "familiar to Muggleborns, unknown by wizards, why?" at the end of the list.
The children mulled over the cold thing list for ten more minutes, but being unable to come up with anything new, the discussion died down.
"Well," Robert started slowly after a minute or so of awkward silence, "can we now try to make the game for a bit? I think it'll be fun."
"Okay. So, you play a card and it what, explodes the cauldron?"
"See, each card is an ingredient. You play it to add it to the cauldron, and some things make the potion go boom." Eddie giggled.
"But there will be cards to empty the cauldron or skip your turn," Robert explained. "Otherwise you have to play your card. So it gets more difficult as there are more ingredients in the cauldron."
"And you have to remember what's in there," Eddie added.
"And you have to know what will make it explode, no?" Lizzy asked.
"Yes! It's a fun way to learn Potions!" Robert beamed at his friends. They didn't seem as excited as him about the idea. "Well, maybe there is a spell to, you know, check what's in the cauldron and what the reaction would be. Because it could get boring if the players had to check the textbook every ten seconds."
"Who's going to make the cards?" Lizzy asked.
"We should do them!"
"I don't have any crayons..."
"Maybe in the Room of Requirement?"
The three quickly gathered their notes and headed to the staircase. Eddie peeked around the corner and hushed the other two.
"Filch ahead," he whispered.
"We're not doing anything bad, are we?" Lizzy asked nervously.
"Take care with the broom, or he'll make you sweep!" Robert said. They giggled and took a moment before they walked around the corner at a slow pace, not to be accused of running. They rounded the corner and saw Filch several meters ahead with his back towards them. He was talking to Mrs. Norris as they both, very slowly, moved towards the staircase.
The children stopped. In order to get to the staircase, they'd have to pass the caretaker and his cat, a prospect they were not keen about. Lizzy shuddered as he remembered how he had dragged them from the Astronomy tower.
Eddie grabbed his friends by elbows and tugged until they all retreated back around the corner.
"Let's go back this way, there's another staircase there," he whispered. This time they ran, certain that it would not get them in trouble since Filch was behind them.
"Oi, what's the hurry, children?" one of the portraits shouted behind them, but they didn't stop. The staircase they were headed for was rarely used and led only to fifth floor before turning away into one of many Hogwarts turrets, but they were able to go through another unused corridor back to the main staircase. Two stories lower, they could still hear Filch talking to Mrs. Norris, and they giggled as they realised how fast they went around them.
Once in the correct place, Lizzy walked swiftly back and forth along the wall, summoning the door. The room they found was brightly lit with a wide, slightly tilted drawing table.
"Crayons," Lizzy laughed and raised the box. "Now, what style do we want on the playing cards?"
As Snape exited the staircase, he looked along the corridor to his office door and saw a little girl standing there. He cursed under his breath and headed over. There go his few hours of quiet, he mused sourly.
"Professor!" the girl cried. She looked distressed.
"Miss Moorgreat," he replied calmly and looked her over. No visible injury, no disfigurement, just a first-year who was frightened by something... Snape perked up. She may have encountered the shadow. "What seems to be the issue?" he asked.
"We have been poisoned, Professor! Me, Astoria, and I think a few others!" The girl grimaced and clamped her stomach. "Oh, it's horrible."
"Poisoned?" Snape couldn't decide whether to feel alarmed or content that at least the issue sounded interesting. "What are the symptoms?"
"I've had these cramps and then... I started... bleeding."
"Bleeding? Did it stop already?" Moorgreat shook her head.
"I can still feel it," she whispered and Snape stopped short.
He looked at the little girl again. Her father, while (probably) a Death Eater during the first war, escaped Azkaban after the Dark Lord disappeared, only to be arrested several years later for unrelated reasons. By then, he had a son and his wife was expecting again, so she moved in with her father-in-law, who was a misogynistic, small-minded individual. Snape never met him, but he would read his letters to the Daily Prophet for entertainment. It was clear from the letters that his wife had a good reason to leave him. His daughter-in-law would probably leave as well, if she had someplace to go to, but in the end she died shortly before Moorgreat Junior was released from Azkaban. It was not at all clear what she died of; in fact, Snape mused darkly, there was certain suspicion, but no evidence. And the Ministry was already in chaos by then.
In any case, Miss Moorgreat was raised by her grandfather, her father having been broken in spirit by his incarceration. Raised by her women-hating grandfather, who would not tell her, now would he?
Snape sighed.
"So you had cramps in your lower belly and then you started bleeding from... your belly?" he clarified carefully. Moorgreat's eyes grew big.
"Do you know what poison it is, Professor?" she asked, wiping away tears.
"It's not a poison at all. Let us go to the Hospital Wing and Madame Pomfrey will tend to you." And explain everything in more detail than he was comfortable with, Snape thought. "Can you walk or do you need a stretcher?"
"I can walk." The girl sniffed and followed him as he led the way back to the staircase.
They reached the Hospital Wing in silence and Snape led Moorgreat to a bed in the back of the room.
"Wait here," he instructed and turned to fetch Madam Pomfrey. But there was no need, she was already hurrying towards them from her office.
"Oh dear, what happened to you?" she exclaimed.
"I was..."
"Miss Moorgreat has, apparently, started her first period without knowing what it was," Snape said abruptly. "I trust that you can solve both her problems with ease." The matron huffed as if offended.
"Of course I can! Poor dear," she muttered and turned to the girl, her expression softening somewhat. "Are you in pain?"
Snape turned and left, heading straight back to the dungeons. Approaching the staircase, he ran into Peeves terrorising some first-years.
"Get lost," he barked at the poltergeist impatiently. Peeves cackled, but bounced off the corridor. "You too," Snape added darkly as the students seemed to want to say something. They fled upstairs.
"A joy to behold as always, aren't you, Snape?"
"And to what do I owe this particular pleasure?" Snape measured Mad-Eye with a cold stare. The former auror answered that with a sneer.
"I suppose you crawling up from the dungeons did that. You've been busy today, haven't you?"
"Why yes. I have students that need assistance from me, as a Head of Slytherin." Snape puffed up a little. There was pride in being responsible for one's house. "What is that to you, Professor?" Mad-Eye scoffed.
"Just watch your step, Snape," he mumbled. Snape turned and went on his way.
Mad-Eye, in the meantime, headed for his office. Seeing Snape made all his senses tingle. His suspicious high again, he shut and locked the door and pulled an old pensieve out of the lowest drawer in his desk. He paused to set up protection spells on the door and windows, then conjured a hairy purple spider and let it crawl around the room. As it re-entered his wand, he finally relaxed, satisfied with his safery measures.
He prodded the surface of the liquid in the pensieve with his wand. The silvery liquid swirled as the memories reorganised and Mad-Eye dove in.
He was standing at the Headmistress' office again. Only this time, it was still Dumbledore's office, and Dumbledore himself was sitting behind the desk. He seemed so ill he could have been already dead, but Mad-Eye knew he had been alive at the time. Yet.
He followed Snape, who berated the older wizard angrily, and watched closely for any sign of manipulation. But there was none; as Dumbledore calmly asked Snape to kill him, Mad-Eye flinched.
"What curse was it?" he mumbled, and with a twirl of his wand, he rewound the memory back to the moment when Dumbledore raised his blackened hand to inspect it. He studied it alongside with him, then turned his attention to the ring.
"Would you like me to do it now? Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?" Snape asked Dumbledore and Mad-Eye shuddered.
He moved on to the next memory. Dumbledore and Snape were walking close to the Forbidden Forest. It was dark and the grounds were deserted save for the two men.
"After you have killed me, Severus..."
"You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me!"
Mad-Eye again scrutinised the memory for any sign of tampering. Weird lines around the men talking? Nope. Blotted out picture? None. Scenery out of focus? Well, it was dark, but... no.
"Come to my office tonight, Severus, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you..."
The scene dissolved and Mad-Eye stood once more in Dumbledore's office, the windows dark.
"There is one more thing," Snape said.
"Yes, Severus?" Dumbledore replied kindly, if a bit wearily. He seemed tired, and Mad-Eye thought perhaps Snape had fought him on his plans before the beginning of the memory.
"After your death, we all become the secret keepers for the Fidelius Charm. I may be expected to reveal the whereabouts of the Order's headquarters then." Dumbledore looked at Snape's profile before answering.
"That should not be a problem. Several Order members are aware of how the charm works, as does Miss Granger, who has already read up on the subject, I heard."
"I was thinking we could plant some fake information for Death Eaters to find. That should help us in the long run."
"The house belongs to Harry," Dumbledore retorted. "We should not use it like that without his knowledge and approval - and he of course cannot know about our plan." He thought for a bit. "But the idea is very good. Let's set up fake headquarters for the fake information - I know just the place."
The memory ended and Mad-Eye found himself on a snowy plain. A simple house, seemingly abandoned, stood nearby, surrounded by gnarled trees. The moon was nearly full and the bare branches cast distorted shadows on the sides of the house. The memory seemed to be black and white, except for Dumbledore, whose brilliantly green and turquoise robes peeked out from his deep burgundy coat.
Snape himself, clad in black robes and cloak as usually, seemed to be a mere caricature.
Mad-Eye watched as Dumbledore and Snape prepared the house, transfiguring random old junk into chairs, even placing protection spells. This was all genuine; he had visited the house with Tonks back when Snape first surrendered the memories and found everything as expected, down to damage caused by Death Eaters who had ransacked the place a little earlier. He emerged from the Pensieve, not at all satisfied. The memories seemes undoctored, yet something was bugging him.
He returned to the Pensieve and chose two particular memories: Snape and Dumbledore talking near the Forest and then later that evening in Dumbledore's office. But was it the same evening? He watched both memories. Dumbledore was wearing different robes, he realised.
Mad-Eye looked out of window to see the sky but it was cloudy. He returned to the first memory but the sky was dark, too, so he took in as much detail from his surroundings as he could. But as he looked out the window of Dumbledore's office in the later memory, he realised there was not much there that could not change in a few hours. Finally he looked for a clock in Dumbledore's office. There was none traditional, but surely there was something... yes. A weird, hard to interpret device, but it was a clock and it showed a few minutes before eleven.
"It's not the same night," he muttered to himself. "But why? What are you hiding, Snape?"
He emerged from the Pensieve and started pacing his office. What did Dumbledore say or do that night to ensure Snape's continued service? Why didn't Snape include that memory? Certainly it was favourable to him. It must have been some sort of flattery to pull him back in line.
"What does this prove?" Mad-Eye said aloud. "What does this prove? That Snape lied - well, not lied, he never claimed the memories were of the same night, but he's hiding something..." He stopped to follow a student passing his office with his magical eye, then tapped his cane on the floor sharply. "So he agreed to kill Dumbledore but what was the price?"
Suddenly Mad-Eye deflated and sat down. "Why do I believe Dumbledore asked to be murdered all of sudden?" he exclaimed, irritated with himself. "That's what he wanted, isn't it? To confuse me."
He stood up and opened a cupboard. He pulled a tray with empty jars on the desk and carefully removed the memories from the Pensieve one by one, separating them. Then he labeled the jars, and for good measure, charmed the labels to cover the true meaning with a little picture. Finally, he put away the Pensieve and removed all the security spells on his office.
He checked his watch; there was still time to grade some essays before dinner.
A/N: It is my belief that when Snape gave Harry his memories in canon, he wanted more than just to pass on the message from Dumbledore; he wanted to be understood. The choice of memories wasn't fully conscious. Here, he had the time to pick the memories he wanted to share, and he chose those that offered evidence that he was still loyal to Dumbledore. He can't share the one Moody is after because that would be the one where he is told Harry must die, and that information was not to be shared yet.
