Something was wrong; very wrong. The sharp twinge behind his left eye, behind the lightening-shaped scar, hadn’t abated. In fact, it was worse, as was the trembling in his hands. Initially, Harry had attributed it to the stress, fear, and adrenaline of the final battle, not to mention bone-deep exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and hunger. But after eating his fill and sleeping nearly 13 hours, he felt no better. Even Ron and Hermione, who were torn between elation at defeating Lord Voldemort and despair over those who had died, had noticed something was wrong. Harry shook them off, not wanting to alarm them. Surely, whatever it was, would pass. Voldemort was dead; Harry Potter was free.

He had lost everything—respect, dignity, his inheritance—everything except his liberty. And although he hated to admit it, the only reason he’d been released from custody was because of Harry bloody Potter and his high-minded sense of fairness. The last person he’d ever thought would take the stand to testify on his behalf, in front of the whole Wizengamot no less, was Potter. The insufferable Gryffindor had saved him from a lifetime of imprisonment in Azkaban as an accused minion of the Dark Lord. Snape scoffed. He probably should have thanked the boy, but he didn’t have it in him. He’d done what he’d done for the memory of Lily Evans. That Dumbledore had twisted that loyalty from his one true love to her son was neither Snape’s choice, nor Snape’s concern. Both Lily and Albus were dead now, as was the Dark Lord. For once in his life, Severus Snape was free.

Severus Snape Eludes Azkaban

In a surprising turn of events, Severus Snape, notorious Death Eater and You-Know-Who’s alleged right hand man, has been acquitted of all charges by the Wizengamot.

“It’s an outrage!” says Dolores Karbin of Chelsea. “How can a dark wizard like that be allowed to walk free among innocent witches and wizards?” Ms. Karbin’s sentiments are shared among many in the Wizarding World.

Indeed, the shocking verdict has cast further doubt on the already tenuous reign of the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt refused to comment on the specifics of the case, stating only that the Wizengamot has his  full support and that, as head of the Ministry, he will continue to seek justice and peace for the Magical World.

As the Daily Prophet previously reported, Snape’s defense was largely based on the unsubstantiated claim that Snape had turned spy for a covert organization known only as “The Order,” which is rumored to have been founded by the late Albus Dumbledore.

“It’s preposterous,” says Giles McGinnity of Leeds. “If any such group existed, why didn’t we know about it? And why hide themselves now? It’s all just an elaborate cover story."

Many critics agree. If Dumbledore had created an army to fight dark forces, as some have claimed, it is highly unlikely that Severus Snape, known Death Eater, would have been a part of it. Others claim that Dumbledore, in his advanced age, may have fallen prey to Snape’s prodigious dark skills, effectively allowing Snape a gracious exit regardless of which side won the war.

The most intriguing question that remains unanswered, however, is what role Harry Potter played in the clearing of Snape’s name. To date, Potter has refused all requests to testify for or against suspected Death Eaters. Yet, Potter was seen being escorted into the courtroom by none other than the Minister of Magic himself. In a highly unprecedented move, the Minister of Magic then declared Snape’s trial closed to the public and media alike, claiming that Potter’s testimony contained sensitive information. Two hours later, Potter and Minister Shacklebolt exited, declining comment. The next morning, all charges against Severus Snape were dismissed.

“There was no love loss between Harry Potter and Severus Snape,” reports Pansy Parkinson, former Hogwarts student. “They hated each other.” Why, then, did Potter concede to testify on Snape’s behalf? And what information could Potter possibly have had that could convince the Wizengamot to drop all charges against a known Death Eater?

Rita Skeeter, contributor to the Daily Prophet and author of several books on leading witches and wizards, had this to say. “While Snape and Potter cultivated a boisterous animosity towards one another in public, one wonders what the true nature of their association really was. After all, they were the only two wizards known to be with Dumbledore at the time of his mysterious death. For more information on the secretive and complex relationship between Potter and Snape, see Chapter 3 of my new book, “Harry Potter: Hero or Hoax, The True Story of the Boy Who Lived,” which incidentally will be released next week. 

With Snape’s release, the Wizarding World is once again left to debate the wisdom of the Ministry of Magic as well as the leadership of the Wizengamot. As Mary Windamere of Brighton says, “How can we possibly feel safe if they are letting known Death Eaters go free?”

As a duty to our loyal readers, we will continue to follow this story and others like it in a continual effort to bring justice to Wizarding communities in Britain.

Damn the Wizarding World, and all those who didn’t believe he’d spent the last 15 years spying for the Order of the Phoenix. He didn’t owe anyone anything, and he certainly didn’t need to prove himself. He’d paid his dues. He’d had enough. He was tired of walking down the street to whispers and snickers. He was tired of the hatred filled glares and threats from family members of convicted Death Eaters to the fear and disgust laced looks of passersby. His name was, and likely always would be, tarnished. Not even Potter had been able to spare him that.

Sighing, he shook out the newspaper and studied the Classified Ads once again. The trial to prove his innocence had cost him nearly every knut he had. Lawyers didn’t come cheap, and his case had been convoluted to say the least. As a very private person, the last thing he wanted was to display his most intimate memories and reasons for his choices to the Wizarding World. Had Potter not intervened… Shaking his head, he brought his focus back to the present. He needed an affordable place to live. He’d already visited a handful of flats in London, but none had quite fit his needs. This one, though, looked interesting.

NOTTING HILL Flat Near 4 Tube Stops & Park

This private and secure two bedroom flat is on the second floor of a period building housing four other flats. Located on a very quiet street with its own communal garden, the flat is a 5 minute walk from Paddington, Lancaster Gate & Queensway, Bayswater, as well as Hyde Park and Westbourne Grove. Easy access to the Tube and many bus lines. Several major supermarkets nearby.

Second bedroom is separated from shared living, dining, and kitchen area and is fully furnished with plenty of storage space, a private balcony, and en-suite bathroom. I am looking for a quiet, respectful, and tidy flatmate who is willing to share the rent. Council tax and utilities included.

Snape walked to a payphone and dialed the number in the ad.

“Hello?”

“Ah, yes, I’m calling to inquire about the flat you have advertised in the Sunday Mail. Is it still available?”

“It may be. I had one bloke stop by yesterday, but I haven’t heard back from him. Want to come by and have a look?”

Fifteen minutes later, Snape was buzzed into an old, red brick two-story building. With the ease of experience, he let his senses canvas the area. No traces of recent magic lingered. Satisfied, he climbed the stairs to the second floor.

It galled him to have to move into Muggle London. He’d had to sell his family home to cover his recent legal expenses, and letting a flat seemed the only reasonable option. He’d chosen Muggledom as a means of ensuring his privacy. After all, being inconspicuous as opposed to infamous had its advantages.

Snape wound his way down a narrow hallway, and stopped at the door on the end marked 2A. He knocked once and waited, on guard for any hint of magic. A young man with a black nylon skull cap tied in the back, gold hoop earring, and a goatee answered the door. He wore a leather vest over a ragged white T-shirt, a pair of well-worn blue jeans, and brown leather sandals. Frowning, Snape met the young man’s piercing brown eyes, noting how they surveyed him with a look of shocked surprise. Snape returned the look evenly, wondering if the youth thought he was too old to be a viable flatmate.

Finally, as if making up his mind, the young man offered Snape his hand. “Perry Evans,” he said.

“Simon Smith,” Snape replied, shaking Perry’s hand. He felt the barest hint of familiarity and wondered why. Certainly he didn’t know this Muggle. And he was sure he was a Muggle; not a trace of magic lingered near the man, or anywhere around the flat. Shaking off the feeling of deja-vu, Snape entered the flat as Perry stepped aside.

“Have yourself a look around, Simon. It’s pretty basic. The room for let is down that hallway there, and to your left.”

Snape nodded, cataloging the off-white walls, dark wood molding, and polished wooden floors of the flat. Only a few pictures decorated the pale walls: non-descript items with muted colors and of no discernable theme. Although there were few windows, the ones present were large and let in a lot of light. Old-fashioned radiators lined the walls. He knew from his childhood that they hissed, spluttered, and clunked as they generated warmth on cold winter nights.

Drawing his attention back to the furniture, he took in the marred wooden table with four chairs that delineated the dining area. A few Muggle magazines and newspapers littered the surface, as well as a pile of textbooks. Through an archway beyond was a small, compact kitchen with white-washed cupboards over a stainless steel sink and built-in appliances. To the right of the dining area was the rest of the common living space, consisting of a black leather sofa and loveseat, TV, braided Persian rug, coffee table, and built-in bookshelves—which, Snape noticed with interest, were mostly empty. There was also a small alcove that housed a weight set. From the looks of the youth’s muscular biceps, Snape supposed the weight bench was put to good use.

“What do you do for work?” Perry asked, leaning casually against the archway leading into the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand.

“I’m a chemist,” Snape answered.

“Ah,” Perry answered with a knowing nod.

“And you?” Snape inquired.

“Student,” Perry said, taking a sip, and waving his hand toward the textbooks on the dining room table. “I’m taking classes at the university.”

Snape nodded, not all that interested, and wanting to see the parts of the flat that really mattered.

Two hallways lead off the living area, one near the kitchen, and one on the far end of the living room. The one nearest the kitchen had two doors—both of which were closed. The other hallway, the one Perry had said led to the second bedroom, had only one door, which was open. Sunlight spilled into the hallway, dappled shadows of leaves reflecting on the opposite wall. Snape made his way toward the light, ignoring the sensation of being watched. What was it that Perry found so interesting about him? He didn’t sense any threat from the youth, only curiosity. Snape wondered vaguely if he reminded the young man of someone.

Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, Snape was surprised by the massive window that took up nearly the entire west wall of the long, narrow room. It would be good for ventilation. Beyond the window, whose two tall panes opened outward, was the promised private balcony. It would be perfect for growing magical herbs in pots, as well as for receiving and sending parcels by owl—though he’d likely have to do that after dark so as not to draw attention to himself. On the wall to the right of the window sat an old roll-top desk with antique wooden chair. The desk’s blotter was littered with dark stains as if someone had once used a quill and ink on it. He wondered just how old the desk was. Next to the desk, was a large walk-in closet, nearly half the size of the room itself. It wasn’t grand by any means, but with its close-set shelves, it could work as a compact potions laboratory. The rest of the room was largely overrun by a double bed, surrounded by built-in storage cupboards which could easily hold his clothes, books, and other belongings. In the corner between the bed and window was a leather chair standing proudly upright, surrounded on either side by small wooden wardrobes that doubled as end tables. They could be used for storing vials of finished potions.

Beside the entrance to the room was the doorway to the private bath. The bathroom’s walls were painted a ghastly shade of mustard yellow, in stark contrast to the muted off-white walls of the rest of the flat. A simple white porcelain sink stood in the middle with a plate glass mirror above. A toilet of the same sickly yellow shade was positioned next to the sink. Across from that was a shower cubicle. Well, he could always paint the bathroom. And the private water supply would be both welcome and needed for his laboratory.

Snape stared blankly into the mirror, running the numbers through his head. How many potions would he have to sell on a monthly basis in order to afford living here? Fifteen, he thought, as he walked out of the bath and over to the window overlooking the balcony. He’d already garnered contracts with various pharmacies and mail-order potion houses. A few more and he should be set. He was also one of the few potions masters who could brew Wolfsbane, and that in and of itself had the potential to be quite lucrative.

Snape wrenched the window open, promptly realizing that the hinges needed oiling. Stepping awkwardly around the white-washed radiator and over the window sill, he dropped to his feet on the balcony, grasping the wrought iron railing for support. Like the rest of the flat, it wasn’t large, but it would suffice. Surveying the green space, he was pleased to see the brick wall that surrounded the property; any additional privacy was always welcome. Various ornamental trees lined the edges, providing blossoms crucial to some of his more complicated potions, as well as an inconspicuous place for owls to perch.

Off to one side was the communal garden plot. It looked as if someone had once cultivated a smattering of flowers there, but it had long since gone to seed. That would soon change, he thought. He could grow a basic supply of medicinal plants and herbs there, as well as some vegetables. The Muggles wouldn’t know the difference. Looking around he found the rest of the yard to be littered with a variety of lawn chairs, a couple of charcoal grills, bicycles, and what looked like a failed attempt at a bonfire.

Feeling eyes on his back, Snape turned around. Perry was standing in the doorway.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t fall off that balcony there. The window can be a bitch to open.” Stepping further into the room, Perry asked, “Does it suit, then?”