Chapter 68
The end of Harry's long rant was met with silence. Lupin looked overwhelmed, as if this were far too much for him, and belatedly Harry remembered that they didn't really know each other nor were close enough as to go burdening him with all his troubles. He felt suddenly insecure, and stupid, and vulnerable, a nagging voice at the back of his brain whispering that he wasn't anything but a former student to Lupin. The man was nice, and showed interest, but he had been the same way with everyone last year, he probably had invited any number of students to have tea with him in his office and would have given private lessons against Dementors to anyone else who had asked. The fact that he had been a friend of his parents didn't mean that he had the obligation to care about Harry, and he plainly didn't want to get personally involved, else he would have tried to get in touch with him years ago —unlike Sirius, he had always been free to write or visit. Lupin hadn't even told him that he had gone to school with his father until that night in the Shrieking Shack, all through last year he had pretended not to have any personal connection with him, and he hadn't made contact last summer when he had gone to Privet Drive on Sirius' behalf to check that Voldemort wasn't around. Harry had the strong suspicion that he had not intended to make contact now either, that if he had not been forced to reveal himself Lupin would have just turned around and resumed his way to the castle without even saying hello —it had sounded like the intruder was trying to sneak away when Harry had attacked him. He probably had only stayed to chat because he had wanted to ask about Sirius. That's who Lupin cared about, not Harry. Sure, the man had said that if he had known about the tournament and Harry being a champion he would have tried to help him, but that just made him one more person who only cared about keeping him alive because he was Harry bloody Potter...
Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him from his bitter thoughts, and he tilted his head to watch Fleur fly by in a silver blur. Probably checking in on him, like Krum had done five minutes ago. Honestly, it was as if they had forgotten that nothing could seriously harm Harry while that bloody thing was active.
He turned his attention back to Lupin, and saw that the man was looking at him with plain pity in his kind eyes.
"I think there are a few things about Severus that you need to know, Harry," he said. "Perhaps if you understood everything that you represent for him it would be easier for you to make sense of his behaviour, and if you knew where his anger comes from perhaps you could find the way to forgive his unfair treatment and try to be the bigger person."
Harry wasn't sure he wanted to keep talking with Lupin —he very much rathered be mocked and called a pathetic moron by Snape than be pitied by someone who didn't really care about him—, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know more about Snape either —part of him wished he could forget everything Dumbledore had told him and showed him in the Pensieve, since it made a lot harder to hate the bloody bastard—, but in the end his curiosity won out so he resisted the urge to fly away in Fleur's broom and waited expectantly for the man to continue.
"First, though," said Lupin, "I would like to address a few misbelieves or misconceptions you seem to have. Starting with your assumption that Severus despises Hermione because she's a Muggle-born. I'm pretty sure that her birth has nothing to do with it, Harry. I heard him rant and complain often enough last year during staff meetings to know that Severus dislikes her mainly for professional reasons."
"She's the perfect student," said Harry in disbelief, "what valid reasons to dislike her could he have?"
"Hermione is an excellent student, but she's not perfect, Harry," said Lupin calmly. "I do not condone Severus' mistreatment of students, of course, but I have to agree with many of his criticisms. It is true that Hermione is too rigid and competitive, and that she resists to acknowledge her mistakes and accept information that differs from the textbooks. She submits much longer essays than required, reacts badly when someone receives better grades than her, likes to draw attention to herself in class, and in her eagerness to earn points and correct people's mistakes she often robs her peers of the opportunity to answer questions and figure out problems on their own."
Lupin's mixed expression of fondness and exasperation as he spoke of Hermione reflected how Harry felt about her most of the time. She was brilliant, but it was true that she could be too competitive and occasionally narrow-minded, and Harry had already noticed that he learned more when she wasn't constantly trying to help and hoarding the teachers' attention. Lupin's policy last year of giving everyone a chance to reason out questions and participate was probably why Harry had enjoyed his classes so much, and despite his frustration earlier this year he was now also secretly enjoying the Goblet restriction that prevented Hermione from commenting on his academic decisions or supervising his homework. He felt like he was doing his own thinking and giving his best for the first time since he had come to Hogwarts, and he knew it was partly because he had stopped relying on Hermione's brain —and partly because he had stopped hanging out with Ron.
"Snape doesn't just dislike Hermione, though," said Harry, anger burning inside him at the memory of how the bastard had sneered at her after the incident with the overgrown teeth. "He despises her."
"Well," said Lupin cautiously, "you also have to consider the fact that she's your friend, Harry. Severus tends to hate people by association, that's why he hates you in the first place. And Hermione was in the Shrieking Shack last year too, don't forget. She was one of the three students who attacked him and got away with it, I can't imagine Severus not holding a grudge for that."
Harry frowned. Of course he knew all that. Snape had been a lot more vicious since the incident in the Shrieking Shack, and he had other personal reasons to hate Hermione too, like the theft of Polyjuice ingredients —which apparently he knew about— and the fire she had set on his robes back in first year —which Harry hoped Snape didn't know about. At this point the greasy git had valid reasons to hate Harry as well, for that matter, but that was because he had started the whole thing by hating Harry unfairly.
"Hermione wasn't always my friend," he argued, "and she hadn't yet given Snape any reason to dislike her in our first potions class, and yet he looked down on her since day one, not letting her answer any questions nor giving her a single point no matter how perfect her potions were. It's still that way, and it's not just because she's my friend or a Know-It-All or a Gryffindor. Snape smirks and pretends not to hear when Malfoy calls her Mudblood, and Cedric said he also shrugged it off when Harper called Colin Creevey and his brother that word, so you can't say he doesn't have a bias against Muggle-borns."
Lupin was shaking his head.
"Colin Creevey also annoys Severus for reasons completely unrelated to his birth," he said with certainty. "He's too enthusiastic, too cheerful, and he worships you, that's more than enough for Severus to intensely dislike anyone regardless of their blood or House affiliation."
Harry wanted to argue against that, but Colin and Denis annoyed him for the exact same reasons so he couldn't really defend them.
"Of course Severus must have agreed with some of Voldemort's ideologies at some point, if he joined him," said Lupin after a pause, "but he probably just went along with others to win acceptance or as a matter of self-preservation. I don't know if you know this, but Severus is a half-blood."
Harry nodded in response to Lupin's inquiring look, still finding that discovery as mind-blowing as the knowledge that Voldemort was a half-blood like him too. It just seemed wrong that both the Head of Slytherin and the Heir of Slytherin were less pure than the purebloods that sucked up to them, and it didn't make sense at all that they put so much stock in blood when they were living proof that it was complete bullshit. Voldemort would even classify as muggle-raised, having grown up in a muggle orphanage, which in theory —and if they weren't all a bunch of hypocrites— should make Malfoy despise him almost as much as Hermione.
"As such," continued Lupin, breaking through Harry's contemptuous thoughts, "as a student he was always looked down on and treated as a second class wizard by his own housemates, not the least because he didn't have any wealth nor social connections to make up for his muggle blood. That's one of the reasons why I always hesitated to believe Severus had become a Death Eater: I wasn't certain he would have been admitted in such circle, having nothing but his skills to recommend him. It doesn't surprize me that he managed to get in, considering his flair for Potions and the Dark Arts, but I imagine he had to work harder than any pureblood to prove himself to Voldemort and win the respect of other Death Eaters."
"He killed his own muggle father to prove himself," said Harry in disgust.
He had expected —or perhaps hoped— Lupin to be revolted by the dark revelation, but the man's eyes were shadowed by sorrow instead.
"Are you certain of that?" he asked gravely.
"Not certain," admitted Harry reluctantly. "Apparently Snape was never suspected or charged for the murder, but his father was killed in a Death Eater raid and Skeeter suggested in her article that he might have been required to 'prune his contaminated family tree' to be accepted in Voldemort's ranks."
Lupin sighed.
"Well, that wouldn't really surprize me," he said sadly. "It's the kind of sick thing Voldemort would demand from a half-blood, and Severus wouldn't have had any choice about it if he wanted to join or even just survive. He might not even have known what would be asked of him until he was standing in front of his father surrounded by Death Eaters instructed to kill him if he refused. Or he might have been convinced that it was an admission price worth paying. Voldemort had a way to twist people's minds, to corrupt them and turn them against their own families and friends, making them do things they would have never done otherwise."
Lupin's eyes got lost in the blue flames for a moment, and Harry guessed by his mixed expression of sadness and anger that he was thinking about Pettigrew. On his part, he was thinking about Snape, trying to imagine how it would have felt to be in a situation like Lupin had described, forced to kill one's own father to prove that he hated Muggles. Harry had assumed Snape would have done it gladly, but maybe he hadn't. Maybe he had realized eventually that Voldemort had screwed with his mind and turned him against his own family, and that's why he resented Voldemort so much.
Maybe it had been his father's murder what had been tormenting him during his trial, and he regretted the mistakes that had led him to it.
A sigh from Lupin made him raise his own eyes from the flames.
"What I'm trying to say, Harry, is that not everyone that joined Voldemort did so because they agreed with everything he said or did. True fanatics and brainwashed people might have shared his beliefs, but many more joined out of fear, like Peter, thinking that he was too powerful to resist, or seduced by promises of power, or revenge, or social rights... Voldemort always knew how to exploit people's weaknesses, what to offer to each person or creature to tempt them to his side, and I dare say a majority did not realize what the price to pay was until it was too late. I can only speculate about the reasons Severus might have had for joining, or about what his ideologies might have been in the past, but I highly doubt he ever truly believed Muggle-borns are inferior —no one intelligent can sustain that belief after witnessing first-hand how extraordinarily powerful witches like your mother or Hermione can be." Lupin sighed again. "Of course what ultimately matters is not what a person believes, but what a person chooses to do, and whatever Severus believed he chose to join a bloodpurist organization that advocated against Muggle-borns. But he also chose to betray Voldemort, which must have been an extremely dangerous thing to do, and he did it when Voldemort was at the height of his power. While Peter and plenty others were rushing to join who seemed to be the inminent winner of the war, Severus went against his survival instincts and joined the losing side —we truly were losing, Harry, until you stopped him—, and for what you say he made that choice to protect a Muggle-born and her half-blood child."
Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. It always made him uncomfortable when people looked at him as if he had saved them from an eternity of darkness. Even though he had been just a baby and he hadn't even eliminated Voldemort permanently. He was also tired. All this talk was making him wish he could go back to a time when he didn't know anything about Voldemort, Death Eaters or pureblood supremacy. To a time when he didn't know anything about Snape except that he was a greasy git who hated him. Everything had been more simple then, less conflicting.
"It seems to me that Severus chose his side, Harry," said Lupin, "and it's the side that advocates for the rights of people like your mother and Hermione. If he seems to currently look down on Muggle-borns and condone the use of the word 'Mudblood', I think you should consider the possibility that he's just pretending to still be ideologically aligned with Voldemort as part of the Death Eater act. Probably on Dumbledore's orders, if the plan is to infiltrate him again as a spy."
It was really exhausting —and distracting, in a time when Harry couldn't afford distractions— to be constantly trying to make up his mind about Snape. It was driving him mad, to have the cruel bastard he knew and the tormented man he had seen in the Pensieve constantly clashing inside his head, making hard to decide which was the real Snape or whether they could both somehow coexist inside the same person. The remorse that the Death Eater had displayed in his trial had been genuine, he was certain, but it was really hard to believe that that remorse still existed somewhere inside the spiteful bat he dealt with every day, or that the man might be faking his prejudice against Muggle-borns. Snape seemed to have chosen the light side, sure, but just as that didn't mean he was now all light and flowers it also didn't necessarily mean he had abandoned his Slytherin ideas about blood purity.
He supposed it was possible that at least part of the git's nastiness was just an act, though. Dumbledore had said that Snape was excellent at deception, after all, and that he had kept up the pretence of still being a true Death Eater all these years in case Voldemort returned. And Snape had explained to Harry that part of his job as a spy was to convince other free Death Eaters, like Karkaroff and probably Lucius Malfoy, that he was on their side, which no doubt would be hard to do if he seemed to have a problem with the word Mudblood.
Of course it was still wrong the way Snape treated Hermione, but it would make a huge difference if he loathed her for personal or professional reasons instead of because of her blood, even if he had to pretend to despise her and other Muggle-borns for that reason too. Just as it made a difference to know that Snape was capable of remorse —assuming he was still capable of it.
Harry could feel Lupin's eyes on him, but he didn't feel like meeting the pitying gaze just now, so he let his eyes wander into the night while he thought about remorse and choices. It was too conflicting a subject too dwell on, however, so soon he found himself searching the starry sky and wondering instead whether Krum would fly back to claim his share of the biscuits. He scanned the dark grounds when he couldn't spot any of his fellow allies up in the air, and felt a little annoyed when his eyes finally discerned two tiny sources of light on the opposite shore and he realized that they had decided to continue practicing without him. He knew he had no right to complain, though, not when he had deserted them. If anyone had a right to be annoyed, it was his fellow champions, not Harry. They had had a Patronus session planned for tonight, and that was the one thing the others were counting on him to teach them, so Harry definitely should be on the opposite side of the lake right now, carrying his own weight on the alliance, instead of here eating biscuits and idly chatting with Lupin about non-Tournament stuff.
His unjustified bitterness had already been completely extinguished when he saw a third tiny spot of silvery light appear in the distance, to flicker and die a moment later. Cedric, he thought with a pang of guilt. Krum and Fleur had already gotten the hang of it and could now irregularly produce and sustain corporeal Patroni that lasted more than a few seconds, so they were fine practicing on their own, but Cedric... Cedric was still having trouble, and being Harry closer to him than the others and more familiarized with that sort of struggle he really should be there trying to help him, even if he was actually at a loss as to what might be blocking the perfect Hufflepuff. Of course it was beyond unlikely they would run into any Dementors during the Third Task, so making sure they all mastered the Patronus Charm wasn't a soul-threatening priority, but they were hoping to be able to use their silver guardians to communicate inside the maze —after much research and practice Harry had finally figured out how to make his stag carry messages to other people, and he was waiting for his allies to succeed in producing stable corporeal Patroni with some consistency so he could teach them how to do it too.
He glanced at Lupin, but averted his eyes again when the man raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. It would be great to get some advice from Professor Lupin on how to help Cedric with his Patronus, but of course the damned Goblet would not allow it, so better not to even ask. He wondered if Snape would be able —and willing— to offer him some useful insult on the subject. Maybe if Harry said something really stupid within his earshot? The man could never resist the temptation of calling him a moron and giving him a scathing lecture on why he was pathetically mistaken. Although it was a question whether Snape knew anything about the Patronus Charm, and an even more interesting question whether he was able to cast it. Could dark wizards use magic so light? Someone so bitter and sour as Snape probably was incapable of genuinely happy feelings, but maybe a Patronus could be fuelled by sadistic glee instead?
Lupin cleared his throat.
"I would also like to clear up a misconception you seem to have about Dark Magic," he said when Harry had turned his attention back to him. "That branch of magic has a bad reputation and is not taught at Hogwarts for a reason, but you should know that it's not necessarily evil, and that wizards who practice it aren't necessarily evil either. What makes something or someone evil is the harmful intent, and while due to its highly corruptive nature Dark Magic has traditionally been used to harm there are many other uses for it that cannot be morally condemned and that are even legal. The traces the Aurors found in Severus' wand might be from some private ritual he performed, or from some potion he was working on that required a little extra power. Or he might just have been trying something he found in a book. Severus was always studious and curious, he liked to experiment and push boundaries, and he's a very disciplined person so I expect he can handle dangerous magics without being corrupted by them. It might not be good for his health, but as long as he doesn't harm anyone but himself I don't see any reason why he should be censured for it."
Harry sighed. Krum had said something like that. He had explained things about Dark Magic and the Dark Arts that Harry had not known and that were frankly unsettling, like the fact that Dark Magic could be used to protect and heal as well as to harm. In fact Snape had used it to protect Harry once, in first year —according to Krum, brooms could only be interfered with by Dark Magic, and Dark Magic could only be countered with Dark Magic, which meant that the counter-curse Snape had been muttering that day to save him from Quirrell had been dark. Krum had also taught him many curses that weren't technically Dark Magic but were definitely Dark Arts, and Harry had to admit that they felt a lot more powerful than ordinary hexes and that it would be stupid not to use them just because they were labelled as dark. It was also true that the simplest charm could be used to harm, and that people didn't need to be dark wizards to be evil, so classifying things by the harmful intent made more sense.
And Snape had said in his trial something similar to what Lupin was saying, about it being his own business what he did if he only hurt himself. Of course it was highly unlikely that he hadn't hurt other people during his time as a true Death Eater —Harry didn't need confirmation to be thoroughly convinced that he had killed his own father, at the very least—, but it seemed like he might have paid for whatever he had done with loads of remorse and made up for some of the damage working as a spy.
He sighed again.
"I know Dark Magic isn't necessarily evil," he said, running a hand through his hair. It still made him nervous to speak about such things out loud, part of him always fearing Ron or Rita Skeeter might hear him and decide he had gone definitely dark. "And that even Dark Magic that is evil because it can only be cast with harmful intent, like the Killing Curse, can be used by non-evil people..." Harry hesitated, not really sure whether it could be said that he hadn't been evil when he had killed the dragon, "or by people who are not evil most of the time, at least," he amended. "I know Dark Magic can be used for good, too; Snape actually used it to save my neck once, when Quirrell was trying to kill me in first year, so I guess I'm glad he knows so much about it. And I know that if he had been doing something illegal when Crouch died the Aurors would have arrested him instead of just frowning at him, so I don't really mind whatever he was doing that day."
Lupin was staring at him with mouth slightly open, clearly not having expected Harry to be so reasonable and open-minded discussing such a controversial subject as Dark Magic. His reaction was a little insulting, but Harry supposed it was deserved, considering how much he had resisted to consider Krum's explanations at first.
"I'm not so sure about Snape not being corrupted by it, though," he went on, his voice hardening enough for Lupin to snap his mouth shut and focus serious eyes on him again. "Nor about him not being evil. Snape might only experiment or play around with Dark Magic in his free time, but he used it to harm when he crucio'd Sirius. And he really enjoyed breaking his bones and leaving him chained to the floor trembling in pain for two hours." Just remembering the sound of Sirius' bones breaking made his insides twist and burn in rage and powerlessness all over again. "That was plain evil, and I'm certain he doesn't feel any remorse over it, on the contrary."
Lupin sighed.
"It does sound like Severus might have given free rein to his darkest impulses during his last brush with Sirius," he conceded. "You saw last year how our mere proximity unhinges him, Harry, he can't think straight when one of us is around, and Sirius in particular makes him see red. Something that must be said about Severus, however, is that he doesn't attack without provocation. No doubt he wished to kill Sirius that night in the Shack, and the Ministry far from objecting would have given him a medal for it, but as long as Sirius didn't provoke him into it he was willing to deliver him to the Dementors instead-"
"That's worse!" exclaimed Harry. "Snape knew that Sirius would be given the Kiss, he was happy about it, and he hoped they'd suck your soul too!"
"That's beside the point," said Lupin. "What I'm trying to say is that Severus, unlike Sirius and I, was willing to deliver his prisoners to the correct authorities instead of taking vengeance into his own hands, but only because neither of us gave him a reason to torture or kill us on the spot. For what you say, Sirius wasn't nearly as wise this time." Lupin shook his head. "He really should have known better than to provoke Severus by showing up in Potions class with you after having bitten him."
"Dumbledore had said that I could take my hostage with me everywhere," said Harry defensively.
"And no doubt that's part of the reason why Severus is angry with the Headmaster," said Lupin. "It must incense him to see Dumbledore covering for Sirius over and over again, allowing him to get away with everything, while he's forbidden to expose the truth despite the continued provocations. It happened when we were students, and last year-"
"Last year Snape was trying to get him kissed by Dementors even though he was innocent!"
"Last year Severus didn't believe that Sirius was innocent, in his mind he was dealing with an escaped mass murderer who was trying to kill you. It sounds like he might have accepted the truth since then —probably Dumbledore showed him the memory I provided of Peter's survival to convince him—, but at the time it must have felt for him like a repetition of the past: Sirius once again attempting to murder someone in complicity with a werewolf, a Potter celebrated as the saviour of the day, and the Headmaster covering up the truth. And then this year Sirius bites him and flaunts Dumbledore's protection all over the dungeons... No wonder Severus snapped. It's not surprizing either that his hatred towards you might have intensified after that incident, if you and Sirius goaded him together just like James and Sirius used to do. It must be harder than ever for him not to see your father when he looks at you now."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out so he closed it again. Lupin was turning everything upside down inside his head, putting things in a way that made it sound as if Sirius and Harry had been the ones at fault the day of the broken bones —even though it had been Snape who had tortured a person in class—, and as if Snape had been in the right that night in the Shrieking Shack —even though he had been raving about sweet revenge, refusing to listen about Pettigrew and trying to get two innocent men kissed by Dementors. And while Harry's first impulse was to argue to death against any defence of the git's actions on both occasions, some part of his brain understood what Lupin was trying to say and couldn't really refute it. Because he knew that Snape had truly believed Sirius was guilty and Lupin his partner in crime that night in the Shack, and that he had believed the rest of them confunded or deceived, in need of rescue. Snape had been deranged and unreasonable, yes, more interested in revenge than in justice, but it was true that unlike Sirius and Lupin he hadn't been planning murder, and that in his mind he had been saving Harry from a crazy murderer and his werewolf accomplice. He had been trying to protect three students, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had attacked him for his trouble.
Standing up to the greasy git last year in the Shrieking Shack had been the right thing to do, the only way to save an innocent man, but Harry could see that in his own misguided, vindictive way Snape had also been trying to do the right thing that night. He couldn't forget either that it had been Snape who had carried them all to the Infirmary when the Dementors were gone, and suddenly he couldn't help wondering if despite his fury the man had been concerned about Harry's health when he had found him out cold by the lake. Harry —his time-turned version— had been watching from the opposite bank when Snape had conjured stretchers for everyone, and from that distance he hadn't seen the man visibly fussing over his unconscious body, but he wondered if under the surface Snape had been freaking out the way Krum said he had after the near-drowning. The thought was ridiculous, but Harry had been unable to shake off the suspicion since he had begun to connect the dots after Crouch's death; the suspicion that Snape had always been concerned whenever Harry's life had been in danger, but had masked his worry with fury and vitriol every time. Harry had always thought that Snape's increased nastiness after each of his dangerous adventures was due to the fact that he had survived and avoided expulsion, but he was beginning to suspect that what truly made the man rabid was that Harry insisted on doing reckless or risky (or stupid, in Snape's terms) things that made harder to keep him alive. Things like going after a Troll, or flying an enchanted car across the country, or consorting with a mass murderer, or jumping into a lake without knowing how to swim.
It made Harry feel weird to think that Snape might have been genuinely worried and maybe even afraid on those occasions, especially when he got there too late, when Harry had already taken the risks and almost died. To think that it might have been out of concern that Snape had been waiting to catch them when they had crashed against the Whomping Willow in second year, worried that Harry had not arrived in the train, and that his malevolence over their breach of the Statute of Secret might have been proportional to the fright Harry had given him with his aerial car accident. To think that Snape might have been specially nasty last year when Harry had gone to Hogsmeade without permission because there had been a murderer after him and Harry hadn't taken his own safety seriously (Snape had practically said, that day in his office, that he worried about his safety, but Harry admittedly had only paid attention to the aspersions on his father's character). To know that Snape had volunteered to referee that Quidditch match in first year so he could protect him from Quirrell up in the air; that despite going against all his principles and making his blood boil when Harry got away with breaking rules he had encouraged him to do so this year if he needed to fly; that he had given him Dreamless Sleep and Calming Draughts when he had needed them, healed his face when Ron had punched him, let Sirius chew his arm while he slid a bezoar down his throat...
When he looked at all those bare facts, he realized that Snape had always been there, watching over him in his dark, poisonous way. The man had done a lot for him, and how had Harry repaid him? He had suspected him of trying to steal the Philosopher Stone for Voldemort in first year, and helped Hermione steal from him in second year. He had attacked him in the Shrieking Shack and made him look like a deranged fool in front of the Minister of Magic. He had yelled at him for being a Death Eater, called him a moron to his face, and accused him of not really caring if Harry drowned that night in the Infirmary. He had attacked him again after Crouch, believing him a murderer when Snape had only been trying to get close enough to check that he wasn't hurt.
And he had let Sirius come to Potions class with him. That had been a poor way to repay Snape for the bezoar, or, in Sirius' case, to show that he was truly sorry about the pain he had caused him with his teeth. Snape had behaved like a nasty Death Eater in that awful class, yes, spreading pain and fear around with cruel satisfaction, but maybe Lupin was right in that Sirius and Harry had been the jerks that day. After having helped Harry with his breathing problem and almost lost an arm in the process the day before, Snape had deserved at least some consideration; instead Sirius had invaded his territory and Harry had flaunted his Champion privileges by taking his hostage with him to the dungeons, a provocation that clearly had been too much for Snape, the last straw that had made the already stressed out spy snap and give free rein to his evilness.
Harry buried his head in his hands. When he thought of things and Snape that way, he couldn't help feeling uncomfortably ashamed and ungrateful, because not only he had never thanked Snape for anything, he had repaid him with disrespect, inconsideration, mistrust and outright violence. The man was such a bastard that Harry usually felt more inclined to curse him than to say thank you or sorry, but he definitely had things to thank him for, and things to apologize for, and it was conflicting to feel that perhaps he should acknowledge those things.
But then he remembered that Snape was, in fact, an evil bastard who had hated him unfairly since day one and who never wasted an opportunity to taunt him and denigrate him. Thanking him for anything would be like thanking the Dursleys for letting him sleep in a cupboard and giving him scraps to eat while they all insulted and punished him just for existing. His aunt and uncle had kept him alive, sure, but just like Snape they had done it hating him so much that it was also a mystery why they had taken him in as a baby instead of driving him to the middle of nowhere and leaving him to die. It was true that Snape seemed more interested in keeping him alive and sane than the Dursleys, but that didn't mean that he cared, he was probably only doing it out of some sense of obligation or just to spite Voldemort. The concern that Krum claimed to have seen in Snape's dark eyes that night in the Infirmary most likely had been just an act or a product of Krum's imagination. Even if there was true concern, that didn't mean that the mask of utmost loathing he wore to cover it was just a mask. Snape truly hated him, that was the one thing about the man that Harry was absolutely certain wasn't an act.
And while at this point Harry didn't really doubt Snape was on their side, he couldn't completely discard the possibility that Moody might be right to mistrust him. After all, Dumbledore himself admitted that Snape was excellent at deception and capable of lying with his mind not only to Voldemort but to him as well. Dumbledore trusted Snape because he had shown 'true remorse', but what if the man had faked that? Harry had seen Dudley faking remorse plenty of times, to earn forgiveness and sympathy when he was caught doing something that not even Aunt Petunia could easily shrug off, and Harry himself had fallen for his act a few times when he was little. What if Snape's supposed change of heart and allegiance had been a long, complicated plot to earn Dumbledore's trust and be well positioned as a spy when Voldemort returned?
He shook his head to himself. Whether Snape's remorse during his trial had been genuine or not, it seemed beyond dispute that he had betrayed Voldemort fifteen years ago. And while it was possible that he might have changed sides again and that he might have only been protecting Harry to keep Dumbledore fooled, the fact that Snape seemed to be working behind Dumbledore's back to help Harry spoke against that possibility. Of course Harry couldn't be sure that Dumbledore didn't know about things like the Dreamless Sleep or the useful insults, but he had the strong suspicion that Snape was acting on his own accord this year, leaving the Headmaster out of it because he was a judge, and that McGonagall was some sort of accomplice of his. He was even considering the possibility that Ginny might be right about Snape and McGonagall being romantically involved, mind-blowing and revolting as that would be, and that Snape might be helping Harry as a favour to her.
Harry shook his head again. This whole thing was really screwing with his mind. It wasn't even supposed to be possible for anyone to help him this year, it was just a crazy suspicion of his that Snape and McGonagall might have been using loopholes in the Goblet's restrictions to slip Harry hints or advice or potions without anyone the wiser. More than simple loopholes, actually, since Harry had verified that other non-champion people couldn't pronounce the same useful insults that Snape sometimes could, and he knew that Fleur had been denied Dreamless Sleep by both Madam Maxime and Madam Pomfrey when she was having horrible nightmares after the Second Task. He also knew that Hermione had despaired trying to give him books about merpeople, to no avail, and that Sirius had not managed to send him a Christmas present because he had wanted to give him something useful, and yet someone had been able to send him the fairy tale and the swimming trunks for Christmas. After the incident with the Gillyweed Harry had thought maybe Dobby had sent those gift-clues too, but that possibility didn't feel right, it didn't quite fit. Dobby would have given him the gifts personally, like he had given him the mismatched socks and the Gillyweed, and besides if the elf had tried to help him at Christmas the Goblet would have reacted back then too and Harry would have received a warning for cheating two months earlier. And if it hadn't been Dobby, then who? Harry's initial suspect had been Dumbledore, but the old wizard had been very serious about not interfering with the Goblet of Fire the night of the warning, and it seemed like a real risk that the judges might die if they allowed a champion to cheat, so Harry no longer thought Dumbledore had had anything to do with any sort of help he might have received this year.
That left Snape and McGonagall, who were the only ones (besides his fellow champions and Dobby) who had managed to say or give him anything helpful this year. Or more exactly Snape had been the only one. McGonagall seemed to be like an intermediary, someone who couldn't help directly but made a point of calling Snape when Harry was hurt, or when he needed Dreamless Sleep, or when there was a good opportunity for the man to give him detention, set him insulting lines or just snarl useful criticism at him. Harry even had the suspicion that McGonagall had sent him outside the night of the Yule Ball, after Ron had punched him, in hopes that he would stumble with Snape in the gardens, perhaps knowing that the man would be able to heal his face without risking a trip to the Infirmary. And she had cleared the first aid tent when Harry was recovering after the Second Task, sending everyone away except Snape and Madam Pomfrey, as if to give the angry git a chance to yell at Harry about the Gillyweed and about his 'stupid hero complex' in relative privacy.
It sounded like a delusional conspiracy theory, yes, and it should be impossible, but Harry could not ignore the facts, and it was a fact that Snape had done things this year that no one else seemed to be able to do —things like shutting close his Golden Egg or disarming him in a duel, in addition to giving him ideas and potions and possibly a book about mermaids. Knowing that the man had used Dark Magic to protect him in the past, and that he seemed to be currently using Dark Magic for something, Harry couldn't help wondering if the sneaky bat could be doing something to the Goblet, or to himself, or even to Harry, to make possible to affect or help him in ways subtle enough to escape both the Goblet's and Dumbledore's notice.
"Harry?"
Harry looked up, and found Lupin watching him with deep concern, as if he feared Harry might be losing his mind. Which he might. Harry snorted at his own delirium and shook his head again, but he couldn't shake off the feeling in his gut that he was right. His theory was crazy, but it made sense. It made everything fit.
And it made him feel stupid for not having realized before. And pissed off, because if he was right, then why the hell hadn't he been told? If Snape had found a way to help him, why hadn't he called him to his office months ago and told him straight? Why not giving him advice directly, instead of driving him crazy with all those cryptic insults?
He knew why, though. The secrecy also made sense, unfortunately, too much sense. If it had been only Snape, Harry would have been sure the bastard had kept him in the dark precisely to mess with his head, and that he chose to deliver advice in the form of insults simply because he enjoyed insulting him. McGonagall's involvement suggested there had to be a non-sadistic reason for all the sneakiness, however, and not only Harry could guess what that reason was, he had to reluctantly admit that they had probably been wise not to let him know or suspect anything too compromising.
Because Dumbledore could read minds.
Harry met Lupin's eyes again, and suddenly he wanted to kick himself. Lupin had come to Hogwarts to meet with Dumbledore. Dumbledore, who was a judge and could read minds.
Use your brain, Potter!
It was too late, though. He could almost hear Snape telling him this was exactly why indiscreet brats like him couldn't be trusted with delicate information. Harry had not shared all his suspicions with Lupin, since he had only pieced all the clues together and come up with a proper conspiracy theory now, but he had told him about the Dreamless Sleep, and about the useful insults, and about Snape advising him to ignore the Headmaster and break any rules that worked against him. Would that be enough to make Dumbledore suspect, if he read Lupin's mind? Maybe not. Snape insulting Harry was normal, after all, and the man was the Potions Master so Dumbledore might expect him to be able to give Dreamless Sleep or Calming Draughts to Harry even if he was a champion, just as apparently nobody had found strange that he could help Harry with the bezoar. And Dumbledore almost certainly knew that Harry was sneaking out to fly and seemed fine looking the other way, so perhaps that particular piece of advice Snape had given him was not a secret; the Headmaster might even have been counting with Snape telling Harry that he was an idiot for asking a judge for permission to fly the moment he walked out of Professor McGonagall's office that day.
At least Harry was almost sure that he hadn't said anything about the Christmas presents, which were the most solid piece of evidence he had that someone else besides Dobby had tried to help him cheat. If Dumbledore found out about that and suspected Snape had been behind it, he would probably send the man away too, like he had sent Dobby on forced vacation to keep him from further interference, and then not only Harry would lose any possibility of extra help before the Third Task, Snape would be seriously pissed at him for getting him sacked or at least in trouble with the Headmaster. McGonagall would also be cross if Harry screwed everything up, and she might get in trouble too if Dumbledore suspected she was Snape's accomplice.
Of course there might not be really anything to suspect and Harry might be turning more paranoid and delusional than Moody —who also suspected Snape was hiding something from Dumbledore, by the way—, but just in case his theory was at least partially correct he should keep his mouth shut and stay away from the Headmaster. As to Lupin...
The man was still looking at him in concern, his silence appearing to be voluntary patience rather than Goblet-induced speechlessness. Harry considered asking him not to tell Dumbledore anything of what they had talked about and particularly nothing about Snape, but he feared that might make things worse. Lupin might be willing to keep the secret, but would he be able not to think about it? Harry didn't know how that mind-reading thing worked, but if it could only be read what one was thinking at the moment —the way Dumbledore had only seemed to see Dobby and the Gillyweed in his mind because Harry had been thinking about that— then it might be better not to tell Lupin anything that might make him think more about the suspicions Harry had stupidly blurted out.
Maybe it was better if the man had his head filled with other things when he went to see Dumbledore. Harry definitely should stir the conversation in another direction, although he shouldn't be too obvious about it...
He tried to remember what they had been talking about before he had lapsed out and lost himself in the land of conspiracy theories. Something about Sirius flaunting Dumbledore's protection all over the dungeons, and Snape being angry because the Headmaster always covered for Sirius despite the continued provocations, and...
Something that Lupin had said suddenly sank in, driving everything else to the periphery of his mind.
"You said last year that Sirius had played Snape a trick when they were students," he remembered out loud. "That it had been a joke. But you just said a moment ago something about Sirius attempting to murder someone again with a werewolf. That makes it sound as if..." Harry hesitated, an uncomfortable feeling in his gut suddenly making him wish he hadn't brought this up. "You said it had been a joke," he repeated, unable to drop the issue now that doubt had settled in his stomach. "But you just said attempted murder. Was Sirius... was he trying to kill Snape with that prank?"
Lupin ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't think it was murder in his mind," he said slowly, "but Sirius knew that Severus would die if he met me when I was fully transformed."
Harry felt cold spreading through him. He had known that Snape had almost died that night, and that Sirius had told him how to freeze the Whomping Willow to follow Lupin on the full moon, but somehow he had failed to connect the dots and realize that Sirius had knowingly lured Snape into a deadly trap. What troubled him the most, though, was that Sirius had thought it would be amusing, and that last year in the Shack he had said Snape had deserved it. Even if Snape had been a prat at school, following the Marauders around and trying to get them in trouble like Malfoy had done in first year with Norbert, he couldn't have deserved to be torn apart by a werewolf, right? No doubt that's why his dad had intervened and saved Snape, but it made Harry uncomfortable to think that Sirius wasn't even remorseful for what he had done.
"James saved his life that night," continued Lupin as if he had read his thoughts, although somehow Harry knew that the man hadn't actually read his mind, "but I'm certain that Severus never considered it a life debt, since James had been mostly saving Sirius and myself from the consequences that killing a student would have had —Sirius might have been able to avoid Azkaban, but I would have been executed without a second thought. It actually enraged him that not only Sirius wasn't expelled for almost killing him, as perhaps he should have been, but afterwards James bragged about having saved his life while Severus had been forbidden to talk about what had really happened that night." He sighed. "Dumbledore covered it all up to protect me, but the whole situation was very unfair for Severus."
Something began to crumble inside Harry. Sirius had tried to kill Snape, laughed about it, and gotten away with it. And his father... ever since Dumbledore had told him in first year that his dad had saved Snape's life, Harry had pictured him as a noble hero, he had even thought Snape was an ungrateful bastard for hating him after that, but if his father had done it to protect his friends instead of because it was the right thing to do...
Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Snape's mocking words resounded inside his head. There was nothing brave about what he did.
Harry felt disappointed. And confused, because if Snape had not really owed his dad a life debt, then why had Dumbledore told him that in first year?
What really bothered him, though, was that his dad had bragged. That didn't fit with the image of his father that Harry had in his head, but it did fit with the image Snape had insisted on painting for him since day one.
Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers.
"What happened that night was traumatic for Severus," said Lupin regretfully after a quiet pause. "He almost died, and the fear... the fear that a werewolf inspires is not like any other. It buries itself too deep inside the victim, if by some chance the victim survives, and it never goes away. Severus will always have to live with that fear, and I doubt he will ever forgive either Sirius or me for marking him so deeply."
"And my father?" couldn't help asking Harry. "Dumbledore said that Snape never forgave him for saving his life. That he couldn't bear to be in his debt and that's why he protected me from Quirrell in first year."
"Well, like I said, I doubt Severus ever felt indebted to James, on the contrary. He did hate to be saved by him, because that made James look like a hero, but I think what he hated the most was that James saw him so afraid. Severus always kept a strong facade, no matter the situation, but that night..." Lupin trailed off, haunted eyes glazing over as he stared into the night. "I remember it from the wolf's perspective, of course, and at the time he was just a tasty prey for me. But I remember smelling his fear, and when I review it with my human mind the memory is that of a frightened child. Just a child, terrified." The man sighed and seemed to return to the present, his eyes filled with sorrow and guilt. "Even now, two decades later, Severus' first reaction to the sight of me is always fear, although of course he pretends otherwise."
Harry looked closely at the werewolf sitting in front of him, trying to discern the creature inside, but he could only see a normal, apparently harmless person who would have a hard time giving anyone a fright. He had seen the creature last year, but the memory didn't trigger any particular fear, and he didn't remember having felt too afraid at the time either —he certainly hadn't been nearly as terrified as he had been facing the basilisk or the dragon. Perhaps what made the difference was that he hadn't been alone with the werewolf, and that he hadn't had time to begin to fear for his life before Sirius had jumped forward and driven the beast's attention away. He still thought that dragons and basilisks were more scary, but he probably would have been just as scared trapped in a dark tunnel with a vicious werewolf as he had been in the Chamber of Secrets or during the First Task.
Could Snape really be afraid of Lupin? It was hard to imagine the ruthless bat of the dungeons being afraid of anything, but it would fit with Harry's latest speculations about Snape using anger and vitriol to mask his worry or fear. Was that why Snape patrolled almost every night instead of sleeping? Were his dreams haunted by werewolves instead of dragons? Had he ever had nightmares bad enough for him to need Dreamless Sleep too?
"That incident is probably the most visceral reason why Severus hates Sirius and me," continued Lupin, "and he hated James for saving him and bragging about it, but there are plenty other reasons why he hates all of us and James and Sirius in particular. Unfortunately there was no shortage of ugly incidents during our school years." The man took a deep breath and seemed to brace himself for something bad. "I'm afraid that you might have the wrong idea of how things were between Severus and your father and godfather, Harry. Severus was never a saint, but as a student he wasn't the Slytherin villain you probably imagine either, and James and Sirius... they weren't the noble Gryffindor heroes you probably imagine either, not at your age." Lupin made another pause, clearly reluctant to say whatever he was about to say. Finally he took another deep breath and carried on, "James and Sirius treated Severus abominably when they were at school. They mocked him and taunted him all the time, played cruel pranks on him, stole and hid his belongings, ambushed him in empty bathrooms or deserted corridors, hexed him and humiliated him in public... Severus tried to fight back, but they ganged up on him, two —or three, when Peter got involved— against one, so he usually ended up pretty bruised, mortified, and angry to the point of tears."
Harry stared for a long while at the sincere face of his most reliable source of information on this suddenly nightmarish subject.
He could almost hear the sound of his most fundamental role model being shattered to pieces inside him.
And he could almost feel the Goblet of Fire's sudden uncertainty as to what name should come out of its flames if once again it had to pick a hostage for Harry Potter to rescue.