Spiral of Despair by Henna Hypsch
Summary: A year after Voldemort’s death, Harry and Snape have reached a brittle reconciliation with one another. Harry wishes Snape would speak more to him about Lily, but Snape is being stubbornly secretive and jealous of his private life. Harry’s own relationship with Ginny is getting shakier. Hermione has initiated a campaign in the press against Obliviating spells which will have unexpected consequences for Neville Longbottom, and the Auror Office is looking for Voldemort’s son, without really believing that he exists.

In the second part of “Spiral” Harry goes to medical school at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and lives at Grimmauld Place in London with Ginny, Ron and Hermione. As to Snape, he is a multitasking headmaster who seems to turn up ever so often in Harry’s life.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Arthur, Ginny, Hagrid, Hermione, Luna, McGonagall, Molly, Neville, Other, Ron
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 8 - Post Hogwarts (young adult Harry)
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Romance/Het, Romance/Slash, Suicide Themes
Challenges: None
Series: Spiral
Chapters: 23 Completed: Yes Word count: 98719 Read: 8384 Published: 28 Aug 2022 Updated: 27 Nov 2022
Chapter 21 Azcaban by Henna Hypsch

Approximately one week after Farrow’s capture, there was a lecture at St Mungo’s about basic organ supporting potions. While speaking to the class, Professor Snape’s gaze seemed to linger on Harry several times. On his way out, Harry hesitated whether to walk up to Snape or not. In hindsight, he had become increasingly self-conscious about what had happened after his collapse that night in Mrs Steadfast’s office, and he did not quite know how to behave in Snape’s presence. Finally, he opted for trying to sneak by and away, but was called back by Snape’s stern voice. 

”Mr Evans! A word please.” Harry obeyed, steeled himself and stepped up to the professor. He shot Snape a quick glance and looked away almost immediately.

“How are you?” Snape had covered them with a Muffliato spell.

“Fine. I’m okay, really,” answered Harry. Snape remained silent. Harry drew a deep breath. “I’m… I’m pretty embarrassed over everything that happened that night after the cave and the Relievings. Everything I said and…” Snape made an exculpating gesture.

“It was part of the disease, part of the side effects. Don’t hassle yourself…”

“Was it now?” Harry sighed, but continued in all honesty: “Anyhow, I’ve decided to take a grip on myself. And surprisingly – or maybe it’s not so surprising – my level of anxiety has sunk after that night. The discovery of Voldemort’s son has given me something else to think about, too. And if only I keep busy with work or with friends, I’m exhausted at night and I sleep better. Ginny doesn’t pop up in my head all the time. I might forget about her for several hours in a row sometimes… “ Harry blinked and swallowed.

Snape turned his head away, but forced himself almost immediately to look back at Harry.

“Everyone’s being very supportive,” Harry went on. “Ron and Hermione, Simmings and his friends… Tonight I’m going to Luna and Josepha’s place. Tomorrow I’m going with Ron and Dean to watch Quidditch – no booze afterwards, I promise. I’ve lost taste for it anyhow. It disgusts me. I must have drunk – what? - three quarters of a bottle that night when I had my attacks? Gross!” he exclaimed with disgust.

“You needed it,” said Snape promptly. “It’s not as if… But it’s wise of you to opt for taking it easy with the liquor. Drinking is a risky habit in general and a treacherous friend particularly in terms of soothing anxiety, because of the angst which will always come back to bite you afterwards,” said Snape.

“Why, yes, I’ve learnt the lesson,” muttered Harry. Silence fell between them again. It was Harry who broke it first. “I’m plucking up the courage to go and visit Neville to tell him that I’m glad for his sake that he got his mother back. I heard she was discharged from St Mungo’s. I really am happy for his sake and I’ll probably call on them this week-end.”

“Good… Good… You’re being brave. I suppose that with everything that’s going on you’ve not had time nor the peace of mind to concentrate on Ancient Magic, have you?” asked Snape tentatively. Harry looked away again.

“I’m afraid I haven’t had time what with needing to prepare in order to visit Farrow at Azcaban. I hate going to that place, having to dodge the Dementors all the time. I’m completely wrought out when I come back,” he confessed in a low voice. Snape frowned.

“Is it really a good idea for you to visit Azcaban? It seems to me you take too much work upon yourself!” Snape looked sternly at Harry. “Because on top of interrogating prisoners at far-off prison islands, you’ve started to do ordinary hours at the Emergency too - that’s what I heard from my colleagues here at St Mungo’s - working night shifts as well?” he said, failing to hide his disapprobation.

“Healer Sheno thought I was ready and cleared it with Healer Solomon,” Harry answered defensively.

“They didn’t observe you having your attack only a week ago. They’ve no idea what you’ve been through!” Snape burst out.

Harry shot him a dark look under his fringe, pressing his lips together.

“Yeah! I know - you don’t have to remind me again - I’m not your…” Snape snapped with darkened face, but checked himself in time. “Look, I’m not trying to interfere. I’m just concerned about your well-being,” he added stiffly in a more checked tone of voice.

“Well, I told you, I’m okay.” Harry tried to dampen his irritation. “And it’s important that I talk to Farrow, don’t you see?” he added.

Snape shrugged but managed to look disapproving all the same.

“I’ll let you know when I get anywhere with the work on Ancient Magic,” said Harry, conciliatory.

“Good,” said Snape, but he didn’t look altogether satisfied as he followed Harry with the eyes as he exited the lecture room.

***

Only a few days later, Harry visited Azcaban for the third time, in order to speak to Farrow. Compared to his initial visit to the prison, he now knew better what to expect, but it was still an ordeal to go through with it. Because of the Dementors, any visiting wizard or witch had their wand out at all times during their stay, having a Patronus conjured up, walking along their side. This wasn’t enough, however, as Harry had learnt during his first visit: Depending on how the Dementors were posted and grouped together, you needed to strengthen the magical energy going into the Patronus at certain intervals, otherwise you risked to have it dissolve and to be approached by the menacing cloaked figures. Any visit to Azcaban was made at your own risk; it was always brief and hurried, and totally unpleasant. Only trained Aurors and Ministry employees with a documented ability of conjuring Patronuses were generally allowed on the premises, even if students at both the Auror trainee program and at the Magical Law program were let in under the supervision of their teachers to practice interrogation techniques. Mrs Steadfast always made sure Harry had company when he scheduled his visits to Farrow. This time, Simmings was with him.

It struck Harry as he made  his way through the edifice, meandering first along the rampart, then along the long corridors of the prison, that Dementors were uncommonly patient creatures. Surprisingly, since nothing was so cold and so lonely as a Dementor, they seemed to prefer to be posted in groups, as if they somehow, regardless of how unsociable they were, needed each other’s company. Hanging very still and patiently in the air, evenly spaced from one another, waves of cold and discomfort emanated from them. Although they made shivers run along his spine, Harry found himself feeling sorry for them, sensing more than understanding that a Dementor represented a huge void - a powerful negative force which was in a way equal to the deepest, most sorrowful and out-of-all-proportions avid longing of a soul.

To his great surprise when Harry reached the entrance of the section where Farrow was kept, he came across Hermione in company with judge Tempatino.

“Mr Potter!” Judge Tempatino greeted Harry with a handshake. The small judge, who had been close to extradite Harry to France last year after his mortal duel with the older Burgess brother in a club in Paris, had gained Harry’s confidence during Snape’s trial late last spring, where the judge had made a complete turn and in the end defended the former Death Eater against almost the entire Wizengamot with his personal career at stake.

“We’ve interrogated Farrow Riddle,” said Hermione to Harry. “Mr Tempatino’s preparing his trial.”

“A difficult and extremely interesting case,” murmured the judge. “The young man didn’t answer in a single word to my questions.”

“Maybe he’s in a bad mood,” Harry muttered. “He usually says a little bit more to me.”

“Why don’t I go back inside with Harry, Mr Tempatino?” proposed Hermione. “I can observe and take notes and report to you should something useful turn up.” The judge shrugged but nodded his assent.

“I don’t see why not. We have extremely little to go on at present, so all information is welcome,” he said. Harry hesitated and glanced at Simmings who shrugged.

“I guess it’s okay,” Harry said slowly. “But we might end up speaking Parsel, you know.”

“It doesn’t matter - I’ll observe his manners. You don’t only speak Parsel with him, do you?”

“No, we go between the languages without really noticing. Well, I notice nowadays. I didn’t use to, before I got rid of… you know…” Because of Judge Tempatino’s and Simmings’ presence, Harry could not talk freely to Hermione about his old curse scar, since Harry and his friends had convened not to make Voldemort’s Horcruxes common knowledge. At the Ministry, only Prime Minster Shacklebolt and Mrs Steadfast knew of their existence, or former existence, because Harry and his friends had destroyed them all in the end, including the one attached to Harry’s soul. The removal of the Horcrux had had many beneficial effects on Harry, one of them being that his eye-sight was restored to normal, another that his concentration on intellectual tasks had ameliorated. It also meant, however, that Parsel was no longer a natural language to him; it was more like a foreign language that he had once learnt and could make use of.

“What has he told you so far?” Judge Tempatino wanted to know.

“Not much…” Harry confessed. ”I do most of the talking. Often he only sits there, as if unaware I’m even in the room. Obviously, he knows that I killed his father – well, I made Voldemort kill himself, strictly speaking… No one can have missed that Harry Potter is considered the conqueror of Voldemort, right?” Harry spoke with irony. “Everyone surrounding Farrow, everyone in his family, have been obsessed with Voldemort for years and they must have spoken of me with hatred. So, he can’t have missed it! Every time I step inside that room, I say my name. Yet, he hasn’t mentioned with a single word the fact that I killed his father. He was so upset about Meleonora’s death, but about Voldemort – nothing. So I don’t know what his thoughts are on the subject.” Judge Tempatino shook his head.

“Be careful young man,” he said. “You never know what’s going on in the head of someone like Farrow Riddle.”

“Well, that’s what I want to try to find out,” Harry answered with determination. “Last time, I told him I knew his father, and told him a bit about my earliest interactions with Voldemort. That seemed to catch his interest. He even responded in a few monosyllables. It turns out Voldemort was harsh with Farrow when they first met. He was only a young teen-ager then and Voldemort in his resurrected form… well… It must have been frightening, don’t you think? I can barely imagine… Anyway, I get the feeling Farrow respects me for having stood up to Voldemort.”

“That might be so… That might be so…” said Judge Tempatino. “But which is his own part in all this, I wonder? What has he done of his own accord that I can charge him with? That’s what I need to find out.”

“It’s a bit risky, Harry, isn’t it – you telling him about yourself? You don’t know what use he’ll make of it,” said Hermione. Simmings nodded emphatically. He had already lectured Harry about caution. Harry looked at Hermione.

“In a matter of fact, it’s risky going inside that cell at all. Are you sure you want to join me?” There was some kind of instinct telling Harry that he did not want Hermione near Farrow. But his reluctance only heightened her curiosity, and he recognized that defiant and determined look of hers from school when she had set her mind on something. Naturally, in contrast with her everyday studies, this was the real thing, and Voldemort’s son no less – of course she was eager to assess him herself. Sighing inwardly and trying not to let his worry show, Harry said farewell to Judge Tempatino and together with Hermione he went through the security procedures to enter the cell.

Farrow seemed duller and more morose than ever. He was slow in his movements and a trickle of drool run down his chin. Absentmindedly the young man removed it with the back of his hand. Harry introduced Hermione, and Farrow looked at her once without saying anything before sitting down, twisting his body so that he almost turned away from Harry, slouching over the side of his chair. Harry reverted to Parsel almost immediately, but nevertheless did not manage to draw one single word from the young wizard.

Harry was speaking of Voldemort’s Death Eaters, mentioning names in the hope that Farrow would betray some recognition as a proof that they had visited the farm and the Pleasure Temple at some time, but Harry seemed unable to provoke any reaction whatsoever.

Hermione who was seated a bit further away changed position on her chair and looked at Harry questioningly. Harry shook his head – he doubted they would get anywhere at all today with Farrow. It might be better to come back another time. He made a last attempt of reaching Farrow by talking about snakes, telling him about Voldemort’s Nagini and asking him if Farrow had met her. It seemed to him that the young boy stirred slightly at the mention of Nagini. Hermione also wriggled a little uneasily on her chair, but had her notebook out and was dutifully scribbling on it while it seemed as if Farrow was glancing at her under his fringe.

Thinking that Farrow might respond if he managed to provoke him, Harry told Farrow about the battle at Hogwarts and about how Nagini had been killed, and… Harry slowed down because Farrow seemed to be muttering something to himself, but the words were indistinguishable. Harry halted altogether and frowned; something was different about Farrow. Harry leant towards Hermione who was sitting to his left and bent forward in order to catch Farrow’s eye.

Suddenly, Harry drew a quick breath and rose with a hammering heart. He stared bewildered between Farrow and Hermione who looked at him with a questioning frown. Without Harry noticing, Farrow had transformed his appearance to his smarter self, and this subtle transfiguration sufficed to make Harry’s blood freeze, partly because of the resemblance to a young Tom Riddle, partly because that was precisely what Farrow had done just before attacking Snape the other day.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed horrified. ”Are you okay…? We must get out of here!”

Hermione looked confused and a little scared as she hesitantly rose from her chair.

“Harry, why…?”

“Get out! Now!” Harry barked while he unceremoniously Langlocked Farrow who in turn rose with fury in his eyes.

Simmings who had been standing guard by the other side of the door, noticed the commotion, and opened the door for them. Harry practically pushed Hermione in front of him out of the room.

“Harry, what in Merlin’s name…?” said Simmings.

“Harry!” exclaimed Hermione, annoyed and ready to launch into one of her telling-offs, but Harry gripped her by the shoulders and shook her gently, nailing her with his eyes.

“Hermione! He did something to you,” he exclaimed. “He was cursing you – did you feel anything?”

Hermione only shook her head, puzzled and a bit awed by Harry’s behaviour. Harry drew a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, bit his lip, looked away and then back at Hermione. He needed to get his suspicion confirmed.

“Hermione, are you pregnant?” he asked hesitantly.

Hermione gaped a little and stared at him, before she started to colour, a deep red all the way to the hair-line.

“But Harry, how do you know?” she said in a whisper. “It’s so early. Ron and I were going to wait at least another fortnight before we were going to tell. Ron’s been a bit taken by surprise by this – and me too, but… we have adjusted to the thought and…”

“You must have an examination, Hermione – he might have done something to your baby. Some kind of dark magic. We must call for Sever… Professor Snape, at once. Let’s go back to the Auror Office and get hold of Ron. Don’t you realize? You should never have entered that room. If only I had known. Didn’t Ron tell you what he did to that other baby? Didn’t Tempatino and you read up on it before visiting Azcaban?” Hermione lost all her colour in her face and stared at him.

“No,” she whispered apprehensively. “I know that Farrow Riddle was one of two secret keepers of that cave where the torture and the abuse took place, but Judge Tempatino didn’t give me enough time to read up on the entire file before the interrogation. I mean, I was mainly there to learn observation of body language. What has he done? Please Harry, what do you mean? Is our baby in danger? Did he do something? Why didn’t I feel anything then?” Hermione spoke with increasing panic in her voice.

“I don’t know, Hermione. Maybe I’m just overreacting, but let’s have you examined just in case, okay?” Harry tried to check the dread he felt, endeavouring not to scare Hermione even more.

“Tell me Harry, what did he do to that other baby?”

“Not now, Hermione, let’s go back.”

They hurried through the corridors towards the exit of the prison, nearly running into a group of Dementors which made Harry’s and Hermione’s Patronuses extinguish. Simmings saved them by egging his own Patronus on, leaving time for his friends to conjure up new protection. When they reached the court and the Apparition spot outside the entrance, they all felt drained and shaky.

“Are you allowed to Apparate when you’re pregnant?” Harry mumbled concerned.

“Don’t be daft, Harry – how do you think I got here? I’ve read up on these kind of things – I’m not a complete fool.” Hermione had regained some of her countenance. “I just didn’t think… I didn’t think…” Her voice bristled. “I didn’t want the pregnancy to interfere with my studies. I never had a second thought about going to Azcaban. It’s what we do when we study interrogation techniques and…”

“Later, Hermione, later. Let’s go.”

At the Auror Office, they stirred up a bit of a hullaballoo, before they got hold of Ron and of Mrs Steadfast who, however, was fast to catch on. She promptly sent one of her younger Auror colleagues to Hogwarts to fetch Professor Snape as quickly as possible.

“Tell him it has to do with a pregnant witch, and that Mr Potter needs his help,” she sternly instructed the young Auror who obeyed without questioning. “Not that I think you should worry too much,” Mrs Steadfast tried to console Ron who had his arm around Hermione and wore a frozen expression on his face.

Ron seemed both surprised and embarrassed by suddenly being the centre of attention, and genuinely worried about his girl-friend. Ron had not seen Meleonora or the cursed baby with his own eyes, but he had heard Harry talk about it when he suffered the anxiety attack after the events at the cave. Hermione knew even less, but Harry’s strong reaction had frightened her and the general commotion adding to it, she had actually started to cry.

Mrs Steadfast endeavoured to comfort her, all while asking her about the sequence of events at Azcaban, and the possible aggression which Hermione was not even sure had happened. Mrs Steadfast started to shoot Harry doubting glances when, suddenly, they heard Snape’s rumbling voice outside the office.

”Is it too much to ask when you come bursting into my class like that and demand my immediate assistance that you can give a reasonable explanation as to why I am wanted? All you’ve been able to tell me is that it has to do with Potter and some pregnant witch. Why on earth should I be mixed up with such matters? If Potter has got some girl pregnant, he’s old enough to sort it out on his own, isn’t he? You don’t have to go after me every single time there is something going on with Potter. I’m not his father for Heaven’s sake!” Snape slammed the door to Mrs Steadfast’s Office open. “Will someone tell me what all this is about?” he roared.

Snape stopped in the middle of the room and looked impatiently at the persons before him: Mrs Steadfast pulling a wry face, shaking her head, Ron staring frowningly at him, with his arm around a hunching Hermione with red rimmed eyes, and Harry glaring at him with fury. The young Auror who had fetched him at Hogwarts caught up with Snape and shut the door behind them, red in his face.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t know what information to give Professor Snape. I just told him what you said, Mrs Steady.”

“Severus, I don’t think that…” Mrs Steadfast started to say.

“I’ll remind you what it’s about,” Harry interrupted as he walked toward Snape and lifted his wand. Using the reverse Legilimency spell that Snape had taught him in the autumn, he forced the images of the tortured Meleonora upon Snape who, taken by surprise, took a sharp breath and vacillated backwards. But Harry held on, bringing forward the memories of the dead witch’s bulging belly and of the deformed, wriggling, evil-looking baby who sorted from it. Snape’s breathing accelerated, and his features grimaced in shock and disgust at the memory.

Mrs Steadfast tried to intervene by pulling Harry by the arm, but not until Hermione shouted: “Stop it, Harry, you’re hurting him!” did Harry withdraw his spell.

Harry looked terrible himself: angry and nauseated over the memories that he had forced himself to relive while Snape looked as if he was swallowing some bile. Hermione’s face was screwed up in anger as she launched herself at Harry.

“What are you doing, Harry? What are you doing to Professor Snape? You wanted him to help me.”

“He wanted to know what it was all about, didn’t he?” Harry breathed hard. “As usual, he made up his mind beforehand that I had done something rush and foolish and that we called for him without a proper cause. Never – never! - does he grant me the shadow of a doubt. Never does he trust my judgement!” Harry’s voice shook. Snape who had recovered started to defend himself.

“I wanted an explanation… I was torn away from my duty…”

“Well, now you’ve got your explanation!”

“Please, Harry, stop quarrelling. I want him to help Hermione,” Ron said in a hoarse voice. Harry looked at his friend.

“I’m sorry Ron. I’m sorry Hermione.” Harry forced himself to calm down. Without looking at Snape he continued: “Hermione and I were interrogating Farrow today, at Azcaban, and he started to curse her, in Parsel. He transformed to his other Metamorphmagus self, like he did before he attacked you in the arrest, and he whispered things. I didn’t hear him clearly, but I’m sure he was cursing her. Hermione says she didn’t feel anything, though. I didn’t know she was pregnant. It only dawned on me while it was happing… I have felt the last weeks that there was something different about her, I just didn’t know what it was. I took her out of there as soon as possible, but I don’t know what he did to her, if Farrow had time to finish it… if her baby is hurt… It’s very early in the pregnancy - what, Hermione, ten weeks, twelve?”

“Eleven weeks counted from my last period,” Hermione answered in a small voice.

“My apologies, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley. I was… preoccupied when I entered this room…” said Snape, arranging his features into his customary non-committal expression. “Er… First of all congratulations to you both!”

Ron and Hermione looked surprised but acknowledged Snape’s act of politeness with a slight blush.

“Of course I’ll try to help out, offering my expertise on Dark Arts curses, but I must say from the beginning that it might be difficult to produce a conclusive answer in this case. What will guide us mostly is how you feel, Miss Granger, and how the pregnancy evolves. My suggestion is that we go to St Mungo’s Hospital and that I examine you jointly with a specialist in Magical Issues of Pregnancies. Have you had your first pregnancy check-up yet?”

Hermione shook her head.

“You might have an appointment any day now, I suspect?” Snape said briskly, at which Hermione nodded mutely. “Well, do you agree to come with me? I suppose Mr Potter had better accompany us as well, since he’s the specialist in Parsel Magic.”

“That’s not true, I know very little,” Harry objected.

“The rest of us know even less, and at least you have some personal experience from this form of magic, so I’d appreciate it if you’d shoulder the role of expert and do your best without waiting to be pressed,” Snape said a bit waspishly without looking at Harry who recoiled and acquiesced with a nod of his head. He realised that what Snape said made sense in a way.

***

A couple of hours later, Harry, Snape and Mrs Steadfast returned to the Office. Ron and Hermione had left for the Burrow to tell Mr and Mrs Weasley about their expected baby and were confident to receive some comfort there. At St Mungo’s the healers had done their best to dampen the young couple’s apprehensions. The specialist in Magical Issues of Pregnancies had said that everything looked fine from the point of view of the mother’s health and that the baby was alive without visible deformities. To Harry’s fascination, an examining incantation very much like the one Harry had learnt to use last year in order to examine hearts, permitted the healer to visualize a copy of the small foetus outside the mother’s body and to inspect and diagnose it.

Harry had shown Snape - more gently this time - his memory of what happened at the cell in Azcaban as Farrow transformed, and Snape agreed that Farrow did indeed seem to be directing his attention to Hermione, and possibly be trying to curse her. When Snape examined Hermione, however, he moderated his misgivings and said that yes, maybe he felt a faint trace of Dark Magic having been used, but he could not say whether it had produced any damage. He stressed the point that it was a weak trace, but then the baby was very small. They would have to follow the baby up as it grew and see if the trace grew stronger. Harry played along and apologized to Hermione for giving her a fright, corroborating the fact that he felt something but that is was very faint. It was clear to him that even if the pregnancy was nothing that Hermione and Ron had planned, they very much wished for it to come to term, and they had already started to prepare themselves for future parenthood and even longed for it.

“Was I wrong to alert you and to alarm Hermione like that?” Harry went straight to the point, addressing Snape as soon as Mrs Steadfast had closed the door to the office after them. Snape frowned.

“No, you were right to react and to get her out of that room. He was obviously doing something to her and as we have seen the result of what he is capable of doing to unborn babies, I understand that you were frightened for her. The Auror might have waited until I had finished my class, but that’s a detail in the context and I’m sorry I flared up. I don’t like not being informed.”

“I take responsibility for that, Severus, I should have given more precise instructions,” said Mrs Steadfast.  

“It might be nothing!” Harry exclaimed with remorse. “I mean, I might have scared the wits out of Hermione and Ron for no reason at all! And we weren’t even able to say anything helpful to them. I realised you tried to calm Hermione down, Professor.”

“Regretfully we know very little, as you say, and my view is that they will only suffer more if they go about and worry for another six months. That’s why I tried to soften the medical implications… The future will show…” said Snape.

“I felt something,” Harry added miserable. “I felt something faint but clear all the same. There’s something.”

“Maybe you feel it more distinctly than me,” Snape said slowly. “Personally, I’m not so sure. Something has been sent at her, but was it finished, did it take effect? The boy tried to do something, but you interrupted him, didn’t you?” Harry shook his head in frustration and turned around and started to walk impatiently back and fro in the office.

“I know so little about Parsel Magic!” he exclaimed. “I have looked for books – but they’re literally non-existent! Do you know of any Parsel mouth wizard who is on our side, who is not evil?” Harry stopped and looked inquiringly at Snape and Mrs Steadfast.

“He stands in front of me.” Snape smiled faintly. Harry shook his head with a serious expression on his face.

“Another one, an experienced one that I could ask questions, who could teach me the principles. All I know, I have discovered on my own. I need some guidance, and for once you’re not able to give it to me…” Snape’s and Harry’s gazes met again. Snape hesitated before he spoke.

“It’s Dark Magic, Harry. It might be hypocritical of me, considering the amount of time I have myself devoted to studies of the Dark Arts in my days… but maybe you should leave it be?” Snape managed not to sound criticising.

“I don’t intend to use it for dodgy purposes!” Harry exclaimed. “You know that, right?” he added more calmly and Snape nodded. “But there’s Farrow and he practices Parsel magic,“ Harry continued. “Who else but me can check him, understand him? Stop him? What if he escapes Azcaban and starts going about cursing pregnant witches, transforming their babies to what we saw in that cave?”

Mrs Steadfast cleared her voice.

“I give you the assignment, as an Auror - as a trainee Auror on a special mission - to find out as much as you can about Farrow Riddle and about the magic he practices. And I’m the right one to tell you, I’m your boss. I take the responsibility upon myself,” she said.

Harry looked at her gratefully, and Snape eyed her with respect before making a small grimace.

“There is a wizard who lives in the south of France,” he said. “A Parsel mouth, who allegedly declined to collaborate with Voldemort during his first reign. But he did not fight him either. The Death Eaters spoke about it when I was young. I heard Voldemort refer to him with disdain on one occasion, calling him a coward. That wizard lives as an eremite in the Camargue area and I’m not sure that his turning Voldemort down necessarily means that he’s on the good side. He seems to have chosen to stand on neutral ground, or on his own ground, simply.”

“Let me do some research on him before you go and find him, Harry,” said Mrs Steadfast. She paused and they were all quiet for a while.

“Do you mind? I need a word with Soundy before he leaves the office for today? Wait for me, please,” said Mrs Steadfast. Harry nodded and fiddled absent-mindedly with a quill on the desk in the office. He looked troubled, devoid of his usual candour and youthfulness.

“I need to go back and see Hermione at the Burrow,” he said distractedly. “Strange thing as a healer to examine a friend…” he added.

“Something you should avoid as a rule, unless for minor trifling complaints, and in case it’s inevitable always make sure to do jointly with another colleague. Although, sometimes you have no choice,” Snape commented. A short silence followed before he cleared his voice again.

“Harry, we…” he started to say but at the same time Harry lifted his gaze towards Snape and interrupted him.

“What happened between Mr Hatch and you when you were young?” he asked. “We need to know everything about the persons involved around Farrrow and you haven’t told us everything about Hades Hatch - I know you haven’t. And Henna’s father strikes me as a very nasty figure. What did you do to him to make him hate you?” Snape stirred uneasily.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be forthcoming,” Snape said in a tight voice. “I truly don’t know why Hades Hatch hates me.” Harry frowned sceptically. “But whatever I did,” Snape continued reluctantly, “he got his own back. He got his revenge – for whatever he thought I had done- when he came back from France when I was in seventh year at Hogwarts.”

Harry frowned. Mrs Steadfast had told him that the research on Mr Hatch had only given a meagre result. It had shown that he was a pupil at Hogwarts for five years, three years ahead of Snape, one year behind Mrs Steadfast, and that he had left for France with his family to complete his education at the French school for witches and wizards, Beauxbatons. It was the same school his two sons, Marcus and Bellamy, by a pure-blood witch from a wealthy French family, Geneviève Burgess, would later attend.

“What did he do to you when he came back from France?” Harry asked cautiously. Snape hesitated. Harry held his gaze steadily, mutely urging Snape on.

“He turned up at Hogsmeade,” Snape said hoarsely. “I don’t have any proof, but his turning up coincided with certain rumours about me starting to spread… I’m sure it was he who initiated them. The rumours said that I had done things…” Snape’s voice faltered the least little bit, “… terrible things to women…” he tried to specify. “They eventually spread to the school and suddenly, it was all over Hogwarts. It was at the beginning of term when Lily and I were still going out, but when the rumours started to circle at school, not only I, but Lily, too, was questioned.” Harry looked appalled.

“She didn’t believe the rumours?” he said incredulously.

“No, I don’t think she did, really, but we couldn’t agree on how to deal with them. During sixth year we had kept our relationship a secret for the most part… which was problematic in itself. I was in Slytherin, she was in Gryffindor – the fact speaks for itself. She was a Muggleborn and was despised by my friends, whereas I was an odd figure fascinated by the Dark Arts and despised by hers. It suited me to keep our love concealed, but she hated the lying.” Snape drew a deep breath. He seldom talked much about Lily and Harry knew he had to be careful not to interrupt the moment of confidence.

“But those rumours broke you apart?” he asked without looking at Snape.

“I… I don’t know what happened,” Snape said falteringly. “I found myself unable to deal with them. I was angry but paralyzed. Ashamed by the mere accusation in a strange way. I just wanted to hide until it had all blown over. She wanted me to defend myself and she didn’t understand why I wouldn’t. At the same time, I suspect that James worked on her at the Gryffindor tower. I’m afraid to say that he was one of the students who passed the rumours about me on most fervently.”

Harry shook his head desolately and looked away again.

“Lily had always been drawn to James even if she pretended to be annoyed by him. The popular, charming guy who attracted all the girls, the bragging Quidditch player – that spoilt boy who had everything, but who was never satiated…” Snape spoke with vehemence, but managed to dampen himself. “James had his mind set on conquering Lily and she had resisted him for a long time, but when things became difficult between us…” Snape sighed and gestured with agitation. “I’m afraid I behaved irrationally. Lily took the ill opportunity to argue the point of throwing away my books of Dark Arts in order to show everyone that I wasn’t all bad – as if it would have helped remotely to do such a thing with those rumours going about - it would on the contrary only have served to confirm them I think – and I got even more frustrated with her. At the same time my friends taunted me for being bullied around by a Mudblood… All these instances of irritation mixed up catastrophically with my jealousy of James, which I was lousy at handling, I must add... She couldn’t stand it in the end and I do understand her. But we broke apart…” Snape looked miserable yet Harry could not help himself from pressing on.

“If Hades Hatch took pains to destroy your reputation like that, what had you done to him? He must have thought that you had done something to him?” he insisted. Snape took a deep breath.

“I don’t know!” he burst out. “It’s true! I don’t know.” Harry looked severely at him.

“What did you think it had to do with then? You must have wondered, you must have guessed something?” Snape’s breathing quickened.

“All those rumours about abuse and torture…” he said. “Naturally, they reached the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He couldn’t accept to have a student at Hogwarts who might have committed such deeds without investigating the facts and without deliberating to expel such a student, so I was called up to his Office and interrogated by the headmaster, together with an Auror from the Ministry.”

“And…?” Harry prompted him.

“And I couldn’t give them an explanation, as little as I can give one to you today,” Snape exclaimed. “Hades Hatch lived at Spinner’s End and was three years ahead of me at school. I used to play with him when we were younger. He was the only wizard kid in my neighbourhood that I knew except Lily. I’m vaguely aware of the fact that something happened the summer I turned thirteen, but I don’t remember any details at all – it’s a blank in my memory.  At one point in Dumbledore’s office, the Auror lost his temper and Legilimencied me. I hadn’t yet perfected my Occlumency skills, and I didn’t resist him.”

Harry looked searchingly at Snape who had started to look rather paler than usual, with small pearls of sweat on his upper lip. Harry had seldom seen him like this: Snape was usually cool and detached except for the occasional outbreak of rage - mostly directed at Harry - but this was something else, as if the professor was physically plagued by dwelling on the past events.

“The Auror said…” Snape grimaced and removed a strand of hair that had stuck to his clammy front. “He made Dumbledore understand between the lines, but I got it too, that he thought that someone had erased part of my memory – that’s to say I had been Obliviated. Well, they left it at that. They didn’t press on and I wasn’t expelled, but Dumbledore gave me a warning not to continue my studies of the Dark Arts.”

“You had been Obliviated!” Harry exclaimed. “But why was that? When you were only thirteen… Who did it? It must’ve been a grown-up wizard or witch who did it to you. Have you not tried to find out? Why have you not let yourself be Desobliviated?”

“Because…” Snape’s words came out with difficulty. “Because, I don’t want to know what it was all about!”

“You’re afraid you’ll find out you really did something bad?” Harry guessed. “But you were thirteen! Whatever you might have done, you cannot really be held responsible, and you cannot have possessed magic advanced enough at that age to do something really serious, can you?” Harry objected. Snape answered in a whisper, clenching his jaws.

“He… Hades taught me things. We did nasty things, playing with animals… I’m afraid we might have done something worse… I don’t know… I was so angry at times…” Snape’s voice trailed off. Harry saw before him the dark haired, dark-eyed boy with odd-looking, bad-fitting clothes, unhappy and neglected at home because of constantly quarrelling parents. He looked wonderingly and pityingly at Snape.

“You should try to have that Obliviating spell lifted from your mind or have it reversed in some way. Whatever it was, it’s better to know, isn’t it? And it happened more than twenty five years ago.” Snape shook his head vehemently and looked anguished.

“What if it was true?” he said hoarsely, not able to meet Harry’s gaze. “What if what Hades Hatch said about me was true? If we had done something together? Some act of…? I’ve never been able to watch tortured women without being extremely affected. Lucius always thought I was ridiculous about it. Especially if there was sexual abuse involved, I couldn’t stand it… It might be that I did something all that time ago…”

“Or you witnessed something… You were only thirteen,” Harry tried to remind Snape who had turned his back to Harry, unable to take in the arguments.

At this very moment, Mrs Steadfast came back, and although Snape quickly tried to turn away from her, she caught a glimpse of his anguished face. She turned with force on Harry.

“Haven’t you done enough for today, Harry Potter? What’s the matter with you? Severus is one of the toughest persons I’ve ever met, cool and imperturbable, does not back away from whatever dangerous commission, resists even Kingsley’s attempts of persuasion stone faced. Except for some impatience and fits of fury at times, no one – I repeat, no one – can put him in a state, except you. I think it happens a little too often for your own good. Why are you at him like that? I know he means to be your friend. Why do you plague him?” She spoke indignantly on Snape’s behalf and Harry looked miserable all of a sudden.

“My mere presence upsets him, so I might just as well put him some awkward questions…” he muttered bitterly. Snape had composed himself quickly and turned to Mrs Steadfast.

“Harry hasn’t done anything wrong, Audrey. It was the subject that upset me, not him,” he tried to defend Harry.

“He was mean to you beyond measure before…” Mrs Steadfast retorted, still frowning at Harry.

“I’m sorry I was so brutal with you before, Sever… Professor - I got angry. I was wrong to force those images on you, especially with regard to what you’ve just told me,” Harry said repentantly in a small voice.

“Never mind, Harry. I shouldn’t have presumed… I was wrong, too, to speak like I did. But what Audrey says is correct. You see, I’m quite determined that I would like to support you, and be a friend. Unlike what you said, your mere presence does not upset me.” Snape spoke with determination, and Harry looked at him with suddenly stinging eyes. It felt as if the events of the day were catching up with him, and he realised how much he wanted to believe Snape. But what about…?

“Forget about what I just told you, forget about my past for the moment,” entreated Snape. “Please,” he added as he read the wariness in Harry’s eyes. “Please, Harry, leave it be, and let’s actually try to do something about our mistrustful relationship instead. It doesn’t have to be like this.” Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

“How?” he asked.

“My suggestion is for us to resume our work on Ancient Magic. It seems important to me that you don’t abandon this work, especially because you have been forced to let Parsel magic assume such a large proportion of your attention. Would you not come to see me in my office like we did during the autumn, for us to resume our discussions? Please?”

Harry had not been to the Headmaster’s Office at Hogwarts since before Christmas when he witnessed Snape’s break-down at reading Lily’s note. The doubt and resignation showed in his face, and Snape sighed and averted his gaze but tried again.

“Do you want to come to Spinner’s End then, or do you want me to visit at Grimmauld Place?” he insisted.

“I… I could come to your place,” Harry said uncertainly and continued “Sunday if it suits you? On Saturday I have an appointment with Neville and his mother.”

Snape acquiesced. Mrs Steadfast kept quiet, but she seemed content with the outcome of Harry and Snape speaking composedly together, making a friendly appointment.

The End.


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