The path I’ve walked is soaked in blood,

Barely I escape the slashing of claws.

The path before me, bathed in tears,

Narrowly I escape the snapping of jaws.

Those I once led just stare and jeer.

Those I revered just glare and sneer.

SsSsSsSs

Nightfall, May 1, 1998

Snape watched the indigo sky above the castle grounds as it fell to darkness. There was a feeling of finality in the way the brightness died, as if the sun would cease to rise.

No, he would not permit himself to contemplate failure. A breeze blew by and the hairs stood on the back of his neck. His eyes stung as he seemed to hear the sweet voice of Lily singing a lullaby. For that moment of solace, however imagined or construed, he was grateful.

Then a burning erupted on his left forearm. Of course, not a moment’s peace. Yet the sensation lacked its usual pull. Not a summons. A signal then. That meant Harry Potter was spotted and would soon be coming to Hogwarts.

Snape whipped around and reentered the Headmaster’s office. Striding over to the desk, he whipped out a piece of parchment and scrawled a message on it. He paused, tilting his head back and forth, and scribbled the rest of the words. That would have to do; there was no time for eloquence.

“What’s that you’re working on?”

Nosey old coot.

“Not for you to know.” Snape was not about to gamble away his final move and last piece with the chess master. Even from that portrait Dumbledore would manage to pull his puppet strings.

“Harry’s on his way.” It wasn’t a question. Dumbledore had also somehow maintained his semblance of omniscience even in death. “You must find a way to tell him—“

“I’ve got it under control,” Snape barked as he stuffed the scroll into his sleeve. He then approached the pensieve and cast an intricate series of spells.

“Need I say, Severus, if there’s any doubt that you—

"Silencio." Snape whipped around and with a jab and tap of his wand, Dumbledore’s portrait was no longer to be seen or heard, and fortunately not able to see his face flush; the headmaster had still held his respect somehow. But he would not regret his actions, for it was nothing compared to what Albus had done to him, and he couldn’t risk the old man meddling in his plan, not now that the end was near.

Gathering his robes, Snape grabbed the Sorting Hat by the tip and it let out a yelp. “Easy there!”

Snape just looked at it and strode to the door. Hand on the doorknob, he paused for one final look around the office, then snapped it shut.  He had to get to Harry Potter before it all went to hell. With a grimace, he decided to try the Gryffindor Tower, glad at least that the students should be in bed at that hour.

As he strode through the halls, an assortment of memories arose, from walking with Lily to apprehending Potter in his nighttime escapades to the night he escaped after killing the headmaster. And now, his most recent memories were of nothing but fearful students marching and close calls with the Carrows and glares from the other staff.

When he rounded the corner, his heart lurched as he saw Minerva coming his way. It was extremely uncomfortable being around her now, but there was no turning back. Perhaps he could make the most of this encounter.

“I didn’t know it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva.”

Minerva stopped, leaving quite a bit of space between herself and Severus. She looked like she wanted to get the conversation over as quickly as possible.

“You have some objection?”

“I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour.” Was she out just to protect students or had she somehow heard of Potter’s arrival in Hogsmead?

“I suppose you’ll be taking points? A Gryffindor out of her bed…”

“This isn’t about stupid house points!” He wished he could make her understand.

“Oh? And I suppose you’re the authority on inter-house tolerance these days?”

He knew he should retaliate to keep up his image, but he couldn’t take his mind off the sense of urgency churning in his stomach.

“Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist—”

“No,” she said, eyes wide. She turned and started heading back to where she came from.

“Minerva…” Severus’ heart thudded as he waited to see if she’d turn around. She did, and he looked into her eyes, perhaps searching for something, anything but fear, scorn, or worst of all, disappointment. Knowing he would unlikely ever get the opportunity to regain her trust felt perhaps even more painful than having lost it in the first place. “Tell the ones...” Snape clenched his jaw and shook his head.

Minerva waited a second with her eyebrow raised, and then, seemingly giving up on him, turned down the hall.

“All-school meeting in the Great Hall in thirty minutes,” he called out.

SsSsSsSs

Gasps and whispers. The energy of the crowd had gone from sullen to volatile, and suddenly Harry Potter was in front of him. How could Harry Potter reveal himself in front of the whole school, with two real Death Eaters flanked on each side? The scene swayed before Severus as his heart pounded so intensely he was sure all could hear it, yet he kept his face stone still.

“It seems despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster.” The title couldn’t have been said with more loathing, though he deserved ever bit of it. The doors to the hall swung open as the Order stepped in. “And I'm afraid it's quite extensive.” How could he speak to Potter with all these eyes on them?

“How dare you stand where he stood. Tell them how it happened that night! How you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him!” The boy who had lost everything yelled at him; the boy who he'd told life wasn’t fair. The one from whom he’d taken his closest mentor; the boy he was supposed to protect. Who he may or may not succeed in protecting. It was now or never. He looked to where he’d placed the Sorting Hat on the platform behind him; it was one meter away.

As Snape made a move toward the hat, Minerva stepped forward, brandishing her wand and pushing Potter aside. Snape instinctively raised his wand in defense, but was then struck by the situation. He had dreaded it would come to this. For a moment, wanting so badly to give up and turn himself in rather than fight his former mentor--the only one still alive--Snape started to lower his wand. No! He told himself he must see the plan through. With renewed resolve, he raised his wand again, ready to fight for a chance to make everything right. 

Minerva cast her spell with such force he barley blocked it, stumbling backward into the steps. Curses came in rapid succession as he fought to block them. As Minerva drew fire from the torches, the room darkened.   

"Traitor! Murderer!" The crowed hollered and jeered, like roaring lions, and they mocked and they scorned. Shielding the curses in haste, Snape was forced to step back again and again. 

"Dishonor! Disgrace!" The Order made it’s way down the aisle, moving up behind Minerva, and Snape was nearly backed against the window. He knew he was out of time.

The next burst of fire that shot towards him, he deflected towards the Carrows without a chance to confirm whether he’d hit his mark or not. He then made his move to switch the hat out with the scroll.

"Expelliarmus!"

Snape’s wand flew out of his hand and soared through the air into Minerva’s hand. The crowd erupted in cheers. Snape twisted and leapt through the window and heard Minerva’s one last cry, "Coward, COWARD!" rising over the breaking glass.

HpHpHpHp

Professor McGonagall restored the light to the torches. Snape was gone!

But Harry’s feeling of elation ended when a sharp pain struck his scar, bringing him to the ground.

“Harry, Harry!” Minerva reached out to him, crouching by his side. Thunder crashed in the sky and screams rose from the crowd as an awful hissing filled the room.

“I know that many of you will want to fight. Some of you may even think that to fight is wise. but this is folly. Give me Harry Potter. Do thissss and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.”

“What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!”

The scene was so chaotic, Harry thought for a moment the crowd would turn on him, but soon he was surrounded by his friends and Professor McGonagall had the Slytherins escorted away.

“I presume you have a reason for returning, Potter. What is it you need?”McGonagall asked.

“Time, professor, as much as you can get me.”

“Do what you have to do. I’ll secure the castle.”

Harry nodded and turned to leave.

“Potter,” she called after him. “Nice job taking out the Carrows.” she gestured to the two fallen bodies.

“The Carrows? Those two Death Eaters? I thought you took them out, Professor.”

Professor McGonnagal scrunched her eyebrows. “I didn’t”.

“One of the Order members, then.” Harry said.

“Surely, Mr. Potter.” Her brows still knitted, she twirled a black wand in her hand—Snape’s wand. Harry thought it funny Snape failed to defend himself against a simple Expelliarmus since it had been him who taught it to them in the Duelling Club.

Harry pressed his lips together and nodded, but just before he left, he asked “What about the Sorting Hat?”

“I don’t know, Harry. Right now, there’s not much we can do about it. But perhaps,” McGonagall sighed, “perhaps it’s for the best, with all the mess house rivalry has caused…and I don’t see how Snape could make any use of it, with the hat having belonged to Godric Gryffondor himself.”

Harry grinned and nodded. The hat would certainly not serve Snape as it did Harry when he was in need. Only a true Gryffindor… Professor Dumbledore had said.

Harry looked over to the spot where that hat had been, and noticing something lay in its place, he headed over. It looked like a bit of parchment.

“Harry!” Hermione and Ron called out as they hurried toward him. “What happened, are you okay?” Hermione’s eyes searching Harry’s face.

“I’m fine. Snape was sacked.”

“Awesome,” Ron said. “What’s that you got there, Harry?”

“I don’t know, a spare bit of parchment. It was under the Sorting Hat—which Snape swiped.”

“That bastard!” Ron punched the air.

“What would he want with that?” Hermione said.

“Who knows, but he can’t be up to any good,” Ron said.

“Well—and Professer McGonagall agreed—whatever creepy business he’s trying to pull isn’t going to work because the Hat will only aid someone with the courage and honor of a true Gryffindor.”

“—and Snape’s anything but,” Ron said.

As Harry and Ron were carrying on, Hermione took the parchment and turned it in her hand. “Aparecium”.  

Nothing happened at first. Then the letters HP formed on the page.

“HP…Harry, do you think…? You try.”

“Aparecium,” Harry incanted as he tapped the parchment. A spidery script unfolded and Hermione began to read it aloud.

They won’t do you good,

those silly lemon drops;

my wings shall remain closed,

if you dare try acid pops.

Immortal twin of Wormwood,

Persephone’s sacred flower,

is what you need propose

for access to this tower.

The parchment then burst into flames and disintegrated, its glowing ashes gliding to the floor.