Of all the teas Severus had with Dumbledore, this was by far the strangest. Dumbledore had originally called them all to his office to hear the details of Umbridge’s behavior and the long list of illegal behaviors perpetrated by the Auror office. Dumbledore who had returned as though he had never left, had been talking rapidly into the fireplace on and off for the past hour. Now, Aurors were on their way to escort Umbridge off the grounds and Dumbledore had conjured a variety of multi-coloured puffs and plates of sandwiches to make up for them all missing dinner. It wasn’t as abhorrent as it could be, but given the fact he was still sore and had only hours ago been rescued by Neville Longbottom, Severus was eagerly waiting for the moment to make his exit.

 The students were all talking cheerfully, and Dumbledore was intently listening to Luna’s explanation of Dirigible plums. Ernie, whose head was still wrapped in a bandage, nodded along with Luna. Since he knew Ernie to be a serious and talented student, Severus assumed that the head injury was to blame for the boy’s behavior. After a moment, Luna felt Severus’ eyes on them and turned to him with a smile.

“Finger sandwich, Professor?” asked Luna. She held a plate of sandwiches out to Severus. This interaction seemed to catch the interest of the rest of the students and Dumbledore who seemed to be trying to hide a smile.

“Thank you,” muttered Severus too hungry to deny the sandwich based on awkwardness alone. Harry was talking to Sirius who, though still pale and shaky, was smiling at whatever Harry was saying. Ron was stuffing his face with what had to be his twelfth or thirteenth sandwich while Hermione looked on in revulsion.  Severus had just bit in to his sandwich when the door flew open without pretense.

“Arrest them!” snapped Cornelius pointing dramatically but still vaguely. It was unclear if he was talking about Dumbledore, Sirius or any one of the children. Severus got to his feet with Dumbledore, but Sirius stayed seated, staring sightlessly at Dumbledore’s rug. The two Aurors with Fudge advanced rapidly on them. Severus pulled his wand.

“You are not arresting anyone Cornelius,” said Dumbledore, managing to sound both angry and gentle at the same time. One of the Aurors advanced on Sirius and grabbed his arm.  Sirius didn’t resist.

“Hey!” exclaimed Harry pulling out his wand. Severus was just about to beat Harry to casting a curse, when Dumbledore raised a hand and caused the Auror to fly clean across the room. The children all gasped. Sirius jerked his head up and stared at Dumbledore in shock.

“Dumbledore! That man is a criminal!”  yelled Fudge. Sirius stared wordlessly at the floor, as though he couldn’t hear the words being said about him. Harry’s eyes flickered between Dumbledore, Fudge and Sirius so rapidly he looked like a muggle cartoon.

“There was no trial!” exclaimed Ernie, jumping up in indignation.  The colour drained from Ernie’s face with alarming quickness. Wondering if all the students at Hogwarts were plotting to give him an anxiety attack,  Severus pushed the boy back to his chair.

“Calm down, Macmillan,” Severus said sharply, getting a sheepish smile in return.

“But he’s right, sir.” Hermione said, turning back to Cornelius. “The accused has the right to speak in his own defence.” Severus, who was attempting to restrain Hermione from speaking with a variety of stern pointed looks, scowled at her. The last thing these kids needed to do was piss off the Ministry even more.

“You’re all confounded!” Fudge grumbled, not at all happy at being educated in civics by a group of injured fifteen-year olds. Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Severus, assuming that the boy’s comment would be neither as eloquent nor polite as Granger’s, cut in.

“All of us?” asked Severus, raising an eyebrow. “Dumbledore, all these children, me? You are so certain we are all mistaken that you will send this man to Azkaban without further trial?” Cornelius’ eyebrows jumped to his receding hairline in shock and indignation. Harry who had remained silent in favor of observing Sirius brood, blinked up to Severus in surprise.

“You?! You said that Sirius Black attacked these very same children only two years ago! You proposed the kiss,” sputtered Cornelius, looking slightly desperate now that someone he thought for sure was an ally was turning against him. Severus felt a squirm of discomfort. That was admittedly not his finest moment. Ernie looked scandalized, and Luna observed him as though he was an extremely complex puzzle.  

“I was mistaken,” Severus said with simple finality. Harry continued to stare at Severus. There was something in the boy’s eyes Severus could not identify, but it was surprisingly not accusatory.

“Children, I think it’s time you head back to your houses for the evening,” said Dumbledore smoothly, cutting in to save Severus any awkwardness. The children obliged immediately, with the exception of Harry who stood up then paused to look back at Sirius. Sirius stopped staring at the floor long enough to give Harry a playful wink and an encouraging nod, which was all Harry needed to leave. As soon as the door shut behind Harry, Sirius returned to glaring moodily at the floor.

“You have the wrong man, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore tiredly “And I’m afraid I won’t allow you to take him again.” Fudge started to sputter incoherently.  “Gentlemen, Severus would you give us a moment, please?” The Aurors were clearly happy to retreat from the room. Severus nodded and was about to leave, but Sirius looked up from the floor and met Severus’ eye. Something that looked close to fear and panic flashed across Sirius’ face. With a jolt, Severus realized that Sirius didn’t want him to go.

“I’ll stay,” Severus said with enough confidence to cover his uncertainty. Sirius gave him a faint, half-smile, then returned to staring at the ground. There was a look of surprise in Dumbledore’s eyes that left as quickly as Sirius’ fear had, but he nodded his assent. Since he was now staying, Severus felt the need to contribute.

 “I made an assumption based on the information I had. My facts were incorrect. It was Peter Pettigrew who attempted to harm Potter and his friends.” Fudge’s jaw dropped comically.

“Pettigrew – Pettigrew is dead,” said Fudge, almost whimpering now. Severus closed his eyes and placed a wand to his temple. He drew out a long strand of memory.

“This is Pettigrew contacting me about rejoining Voldemort.” Severus said, placing the only memory  of Peter that did not make himself look like a Death Eater in the pensieve.  

“The memory is indeed a year old and may be hazy, but it clearly has not been tampered with,” said Severus calmly. In order to store a high-quality memory, the memory had to be clear in a person’s mind. The more time passed, the less dramatic the memory, the less clear the images were.  Peter, being a sniveling piece of garbage, was hardly worth recollecting perfectly, but Severus was confident it would be good enough.

“Let’s see for ourselves, shall we Cornelius?” said Dumbledore. With an air of great disgruntlement, Cornelius walked over beside Dumbledore, and they both put their heads in the swirling water.

Sirius continued to stare at the floor from his seat, looking alone and somehow frail as he waited on his chair for Dumbledore and Fudge to work out his fate. Severus walked across the room and took the chair beside him. The despondency radiated off of Sirius, and Severus racked his mind for something reassuring to say. There was nothing, or at least nothing that Severus had the nerve to say, so Severus just sat, waiting with him.

Moments later, Fudge and Dumbledore removed their heads from the Pensieve. Fudge was pale and shaky and his stared up to Dumbledore’s calm face with disbelief.

“I take it you understand now, Cornelius?” asked Dumbledore almost kindly. Fudge looked at Sirius who hesitantly raised defiant eyes. Something in Sirius’ face, undoubtedly the hollow despair that still occasionally lurked around his eyes, caused Fudge to look away and fiddle with his bowler hat.

“I must get back to the office,” he muttered, stepping towards the fireplace. He looked as though he might have wanted to say something else to Sirius but guilt and pride proved stronger than remorse and compassion. He disappeared into the fireplace. Sirius turned to Dumbledore who looked rather pleased. 

 “So, I am not going back to Azkaban?” asked Severus. His attempt to keep his tone light was not completely successful.

“Of course not, Sirius. I wouldn’t have allowed that to happen, regardless of what Fudge said. I’d like to think you know that.”  Dumbledore said, the joy of victory fading fast from his face. Sirius raised his eyes from his lap, looking almost skeptical as he assessed Dumbledore’s sincerity. As always, Dumbledore was capable of softening even the most stubbornly independent of men, and Sirius apparently saw whatever it was he was looking for on Dumbledore’s face. The tension drained from Sirius’ face and he nodded.

“Now I believe you have a project to get back to,” Dumbledore said raising his eyebrows. Severus rolled his eyes. The “project” had taken up the better part of Severus’ last few days. Still, a joyful glimmer returned to Sirius’ eye and Severus could hardly feel bitter.

“Alright, thank you,” Sirius said with a genuine smile. “Both of you.” Severus gave a tight uncomfortable nod.

“You don’t owe me any thanks, Sirius,” said Dumbledore, looking suddenly old and sad. Sirius swallowed and copied Severus’ short nod before heading into the fire and vanishing. For a few moments, Dumbledore watched the fire crackle, deep in thought. Severus was about to take his leave when Dumbledore turned to him and fixed him with a shrewd look.

“Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Before the words were even fully out of Severus’ mouth he could feel the tell-tale warmth of a diagnostic spell. Dumbledore sighed.

“Sit down, Severus,” said Dumbledore tiredly, making Severus feel a twinge guilty and embarrassed. Severus did what he was told, and Dumbledore peeled Severus’ sore arm away from his side and vanished half of his sleeve.

“Do you mind!” Severus said indignantly. Those robes were new. Dumbledore summoned a deep, purple cream Severus hadn’t seen before and started to apply it liberally.

“If you were honest about your injuries when you went to see Poppy, I wouldn’t have to vanish your clothing now, would I?” asked Dumbledore, sounding a trifle more testy than usual.  Despite his snark, Severus had expected pastiche of comforting words Dumbledore always gave when Severus was injured. The uncharacteristic sharpness made him feel stung and insecure, even if the pain in his arm was receding.

Without preamble, Dumbledore shone a bright light in Severus’ eye. The brightness caused a flare of pain in Severus’ head, and he pulled back from the light.

“You have a concussion,” said Dumbledore in a business-like tone that was more suited to Severus than himself. Two pain-relieving potions zoomed across the room and Dumbledore caught them with surprising agility. “Drink.”

Severus scowled and took the potions. Such a diagnosis was usually met with fussy concern and offers of candy and company. Severus wasn’t sure if he was angry at Dumbledore for his sudden coolness, or angry at himself for getting used to the comfort and expecting to be coddled. Severus learned long ago that he didn’t elicit tenderness and compassion in others and hadn’t needed either for a long time. Still, he felt a surge of hurt and humiliation.

“I do not try to fail, you know,” Severus spat out. Dumbledore, who had been prodding at one of the deep bruises on Severus arm fixedly looked up, surprised.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, genuinely bemused for possibly the first time since Severus met him.

“Potter. I do try and stop these things from happening to him. He just –“ Severus trailed off, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He did always have a flare for the dramatic. If Dumbledore was this upset and angry, it had to do with Potter.  To his surprise, Dumbledore sighed and looked even wearier than before.

“I know you do, Severus, and you do a great job.” Dumbledore stopped abruptly and looked at Severus in the eye. “It is not you that has failed me. I have failed you.” Taken aback, Severus raised an eyebrow.

“How have you failed me?” asked Severus. Dumbledore continued to walk to the Headmaster’s office silently for a few moments. Despite his burning curiosity, Severus stayed silent, allowing the man to collect his thoughts.

“You’re in pain,” said Dumbledore with a sigh. “Something I try to prevent at all times of course, but something that I swore would never happen while you were at Hogwarts. After all I ask of you, I couldn’t do that one thing for you.” Dumbledore lapsed into silence again and Severus felt extremely wrong-footed. As always, his discomfort expressed itself with rancor.

“I do not need protecting,” Severus said indignantly. Dumbledore looked at Severus and smiled, his former twinkle returning to his eye.

“We all need protecting, Severus,” replied Dumbledore. “That is why we have family.” Severus did not know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. Dumbledore was straightening Severus’ fingers, trying to determine if the arm and hand were still in working order. They were fine. Severus knew a fair amount of healing magic, and he knew when things were bad. He could take care of all this himself. Still, it did feel nice to have someone else want to do it. The thought embarrassed him.

“I’m fine, Albus. I can do this myself,” snapped Severus.

“It’s done, Severus. Sit still and have some tea,” said Dumbledore pointing his wand at the tea set lying forgotten on his desk. It immediately started to boil, and Dumbledore prepared the tea, remembering to scoop and unconscionable amount of sugar into Severus’ cup. The sweet hotness made the tension and pain recede. Severus relaxed further into his chair. They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

“No word from Voldemort?” asked Dumbledore. A little taken aback, Severus raised his eyebrows and put down his tea.

“I think you would know,” said Severus with a wry smile. Dumbledore did not find the humor in the statement and stared at his lap.

“That rat going through your floo…you did not act like a Death Eater,” said Dumbledore with a pinched expression. “Faye will report that to her uncle.” Severus shrugged with more confidence than he felt.

“I say I act as your agent while at Hogwarts. He as always accepted that,” replied Severus. Dumbledore eyed Severus warily.

“But now he doubts you.” Severus nodded tightly and looked away. Dumbledore reached over and squeezed Severus arm gently. He found it didn’t hurt anymore.