Ron found himself on the far side of the door to the Headmaster’s office, dazedly descending the staircase. He still wasn’t sure quite how it happened that he was still enrolled in Hogwarts.

Once it had become clear that he had made an enormous, gigantic, inexcusable mistake, he had been sure his life was over. Everyone knew that Snape held grudges like a goblin. Once he knew Ron had been responsible for the explosion in his class – not to mention all the threats, hexes, and insults the boy had hurled at him – there was no way he would rest until Ron was expelled in disgrace.

So what had just happened?

Ron couldn’t quite figure it out. He’d figured his parents and maybe even his Head of House would plead for mercy, and he’d been more than ready to grovel and abase himself as well. But he’d assumed that it would be Dumbledore at whom he should direct his begging, because it was absurd to hope that Snape would be moved to pity by beseeching pleas… Amused by them, yes. Affected, no.

But in the end, it had been Snape himself who had raised the possibility of salvation. Ron hadn’t even considered that as a remote chance. He wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that the possibility of a free helper could be all that appealing to the dour man. It wasn’t as if Ron could provide that much assistance. He was pants at potions, and they both knew it. So what could the man want? He hadn’t even bound the boy to him with a magical oath, though to be fair, Ron would probably have acquiesced to being his slave, if that’s what it took to remain at Hogwarts.

So what was in it for Snape? Did he plan to humiliate Ron at every opportunity? Well, he sort of did that anyway. Short of stripping him of his trousers in the middle of class, there wasn’t much else Snape could do to make him feel worse than he already did. And frankly, if Snape had demanded the right to administer a pants-down spanking during dinnertime in the Great Hall, Ron had a feeling his parents would likely have agreed, once they were apprised of his actions. Now, though, with no one else being the wiser about the explosion in Potions or the encounter in the Infirmary, Snape wouldn’t be able to be any worse to him than usual, at least in public. Dumbledore and McGonagall wouldn’t allow anything that they thought was excessively harsh treatment – even if Ron knew it was secretly deserved.

So why in Merlin’s name would Snape willingly forego the opportunity to increase his power over Ron? To rid himself of an annoying student? To humiliate the entire Weasley clan? Ron chewed his lip. There had to be a reason. It was the equivalent of being within a move of checkmate and then letting your opponent win. There was no way it was an accident. Snape’s words made it clear he knew he held all the cards, but he’d still offered Ron a way out. Why? Snape was way too canny to do anything without a reason.

Ron thought furiously. Why did Snape do anything? Well, because he wanted to. But he wouldn’t want to do anything nice for Ron. Quite the reverse. It was clear that he detested the boy. If it were Draco in this position, then sure, Snape would bend over backwards for the little ferret. But he liked Draco. Okay, so if he weren’t doing it to be nice, could he be doing it so that he could be very, very nasty? With a trapped and submissive victim?

Well, no. As easy as it was for Ron to imagine the dark bat gleefully wielding a whip in the dark recesses of his dungeons, he’d made it clear that he wasn’t keeping Ron around for a little torture session or two. First off, there was no way that the offended fury in Snape’s eyes when he’d figured out what Ron was thinking had been feigned. Nor had Ron missed the look of horror on Snape’s face when he saw Harry’s injuries. Surely if Snape liked to hurt people, he would have enjoyed seeing Harry like that. And besides, if Snape were really into torture, he’d have done a much better job of making Ron writhe in the Headmaster’s office. So that was out.

Snape also did what Dumbledore told him to do. But that didn’t fit this case either. It was clear from the Headmaster’s own words that he didn’t know about Ron’s actions, so he couldn’t have ordered Snape to overlook them. The same held true for McGonagall – not that Ron really thought she had the same authority over Snape that Dumbledore did, but even if she would try to intervene on Ron’s behalf, she couldn’t have done it in this case, since she too was ignorant of the events.

So why was he standing here trembling in a dim hallway, rather than packing his bags and waiting to see his parents’ devastated faces? What had made Snape relent? Why would he --?

Ron’s breath caught in his chest. Who else did Snape listen to? Ron could think of only one other… person… that Snape had ever willingly obeyed. What if his oath of allegiance to Voldemort wasn’t as dead as Dumbledore thought? What if he were still working for the Dark Lord? If that were the case, wouldn’t he be on the lookout for other potential Death Eaters? Wasn’t that why he was so tolerant of his Slytherins’ misbehavior? You only had to look at Malfoy to see a Junior Death Eater in training. What if Ron’s behavior had convinced Snape that he too had a Dark side? That with the proper coaching and encouragement, Ron could be brought to worship at Voldemort’s feet?

Ron thought he would sick up then and there. That was it. It was the only thing that made sense. Snape had protected him and kept him at Hogwarts, so that Ron could fulfill his destiny of becoming a follower of Voldemort. Who else among the students had ever attacked a professor? And an innocent one at that. Or mouthed off to Dumbledore himself? Even Malfoy hadn’t ever done anything that evil. No wonder Snape had such high hopes for him. He might even be grooming him to be Voldemort’s heir.

Somehow, Ron managed to stagger to his dormitory. He was Marked now, and unlike Harry whose place in the prophecies had been none of his own doing, Ron was tainted because of his own actions. He vaguely wondered if this was why Trelawny always sneered at him – had she Seen all this? Not even realizing that he had, for the first time in his life, accorded his Divinations professor respect for her alleged talent, Ron fell into bed. Despite the whirling thoughts that tumbled through his mind, the events of the day caught up with him, and he slept.