Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the oft-called Savior of the wizarding world, the one whose shoulders carried the hopes of so many, sat numb at the kitchen table at 12 Grimmauld Place, staring at nothing. His eyes did not blink as his mind tried to grasp the significance of what Minerva McGonagall had just read.He was not alone in his silence. Remus Lupin sat at the head of the table, head buried in his aging hands. Harry's year-mate, Hermione Granger, was staring at the document, face looking betrayed by something she had always held very deep within herself.
Or by someone.
The document that everyone in the Order of the Phoenix held in their gazes lay on the table's surface, its narrow, loopy writing very clearly stating its contents, with no question as to what each individual word was trying to say. Vast amounts of the loopy writing were devoted to the effort against the evilest creature known to wizarding kind. Equal amounts were directed towards the new Headmistress of Hogwarts, instructing her of the many ways that the school could be kept open. It stressed the need to keep Hogwarts open for any who needed her in these dark times, that the idea that help would always be given to those who ask for it, no matter the faculty.
"It can't be true," Molly Weasley murmured, voice numb, for the third time since the last paragraph had been read. "It can't be."
"I'm afraid," McGonagall said wearily, taking off her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose, "that it is. However much we may argue, Professor Dumbledore made his wishes quite clear. We will simply have to accept them…"
Harry stopped listening to the other's voices, paying more attention to his memories of the last six and a half years.
He remembered the steely look in the Headmaster's eyes when Harry had questioned him…
I would trust Professor Snape with my life.
…has never been accused of any Dark activity since. No more has Professor Snape.
How the injured Headmaster had insisted for the Head of Slytherin over Madame Pomfrey. How he would entertain no doubts on the man's faithfulness to the Order or his loyalties. At great personal risk…
Slowly the pieces began to set themselves in his mind. At that moment, he wished for a pensieve of his own, to be able to move all the pieces around, like an old-fashion jigsaw puzzle on a tabletop.
…he would not want immediately to kill the person who reached his island.
Had it not been … for my own prodigious skill and for Professor Snape's timely action when I returned to Hogwarts…
It is…Professor Snape whom I need…Severus, I need Severus…
On that final night, how the greatest wizard of the age had begged Snape, not for his life, Harry Potter now realized with sorrow.
For his death.
Snape had hesitated. He had almost balked completely atop the tower. Had, now that Harry put it together correctly, done so once already. That one day…
I jus' heard Snape sayin' Dumbledore took too much for granted…Dumbledore told him flat out he'd agreed ter do it and that was all there was to it.
"All so Snape would be the closest to Voldemort," he whispered to the silent room. "Killer of Dumbledore, honored above all. To get the information needed to destroy him and his followers. His most trusted servant, the one he wouldn't dream would betray him."