Author's note:
I would like to thank excessivelyperky for giving me the idea for this chapter, and for her kind and very helpful input.
Conversation with a Portrait
A few sunrays pierced through the purple evening clouds, tinting the castle walls with an orange glow. They flooded through the thick latticed windows of the Headmistress' office.
Still somewhat stunned by what she had seen, Minerva got up from the heavy wooden armchair behind the desk on which the Pensieve still stood. Before leaving, Harry had retrieved the memories and kept the flask. The Headmistress pondered whether he was holding on to it because of the precious images of his mother it contained, or whether he intended to use its content anyway. She started pacing the office, feeling unusually agitated. Displaying a man's most intimate secrets publicly felt wrong, yet letting him risk a sentence in Azkaban was terrible, and she had half a mind to call the youngsters back and tell them to go ahead and use the memories. Of course, Kinsley Shacklebolt had vowed to get rid of the Dementors guarding the wizard prison, but so far, he still had not fulfilled his promise. Besides, with or without Dementors, Azkaban was a bleak place, not one she would wish on the tormented man she had had a glimpse of in the Pensieve. Yet, she knew Severus well enough to realize he would absolutely hate having his feelings for Lily Potter used as evidence. Despite herself, she wringed her hands, letting years of repressed anxiety resurface. Not only students, but also members of staff were constantly looking up to her for advice, yet without Albus, who had always seemed in control of everything, she felt somewhat lost, and questioned every single decision she made. No doubt she had relied on him for too long.
"Ahem."
Minerva startled at the sound and looked up. Albus Dumbledore was looking down at her from his portrait, one eyebrow raised. He had a malicious glint in his eye, as if he were about to play some clever trick. The witch felt slightly irritated.
"Is it altogether possible, Minerva, that I may give some clarifications on the matter you just discussed with our young students?"
"Of course," she sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, Albus. There has been so many things to think of, between ensuring the students were recovering from the traumatic year they went through and the repairs to the castle, that it simply did not cross my mind to enquire of you."
"Dear Minerva," Dumbledore smiled from his gilded frame. "You are forever trying to do everything your own way without consulting those who could help."
"Well, I had a very good teacher in that respect, did I not?" she said airily.
Portrait Dumbledore chuckled. "Touché, Minerva, touché."
"Albus, this is no laughing matter. I fear that in the current climate, the Wizengamot will not be magnanimous. There is a bit of a – pardon the expression – witch hunt going on. Therefore, I need to know: can you confirm that what I saw in the Pensieve is all true?"
"My dear Minerva, I am in no position to confirm or infirm anything. I did not see those memories, after all."
Minerva rolled her eyes – even dead, the man could be infuriating.
"You understand perfectly well what I am asking. Is it true that Severus Snape was loyal to you from the moment he came to warn you about Voldemort's interpretation of the prophecy? And is it true that you requested that he'd kill you so young Draco would not have to do it?"
"The answer to both questions is yes, Minerva."
"Well, can you provide anything that could corroborate it? Did you leave written instructions for Severus, or write things down in a diary in this very office?"
"Merlin's beard, no. I could not risk any documents to be discovered by Death Eaters and thereby blow his cover as a spy."
Minerva tapped the desk impatiently with her thin fingers. "A letter, perhaps? Something to be opened after your death, explaining why Severus had to act the way he did? Help me out here, Albus."
The portrait sighed. "Ah… I am afraid, Minerva, that the fight against Voldemort was my only preoccupation. I did not think of leaving anything of the sort. Moreover, as I said, I could not risk exposing Severus."
"In that case, we may not have any other choice but show these memories as evidence," Minerva mused.
"Could you explain in more details what you saw, Minerva? You seem to imply the memories were rather personal."
"Well, rather personal, indeed! I saw memories from Severus' childhood and his time at Hogwarts, Albus. I saw how he pined for Lily Evans the whole time, private conversations they had together, as well as the bullying he endured at the hands of James Potter and Sirius Black – some of it was quite humiliating. I know Severus well enough to realize he would dislike having such intimate things on public display, so to speak, which is why I told young Potter not to use them."
"Quite, quite," the portrait assented.
"Yet," the witch carried on, "based on this conversation, I take it you would advise us, on the contrary, to hand them over to the Wizengamot, as evidence to prove Severus' loyalty? After all, we have nothing else we can use."
"I am saying nothing of the sort, Minerva. On the contrary, I would like to point out that Severus himself asked me to keep his love for Lily a secret. Therefore, I think we should respect his wishes, and not mention it at all, nor use those memories. If Severus wants to explain himself, I believe he is articulate enough to do so."
Minerva sighed.
"May I mention our discussion, at least? I simply cannot stand by and let them sentence Severus to Azkaban, Albus."
"That you may indeed! After all, as the supposed victim, am I not the best witness you could produce?"
Minerva was doubtful. The portrait, although it talked and behaved the way Albus would have, was nothing more than an enchanted object. Yet, she kept her misgivings to herself.