It was the coldest place he had ever been.  When his shuddering breath left his body he saw the mist.  He had huddled himself into a corner, hugging his legs in a desperate attempt for warmth.  He shivered uncontrollably as he sat on the cold stone surface of the floor.  His eyes had lost their strength in only one night in this terrible place.  In Azkaban Prison.  Severus froze every time a Dementor drifted before his cell door and inhaled.  Even when he slept his mind was tortured with his worst memories.  He heard them all over again.  Every single one.  He tried shutting his eyes against them, tried to occlude his mind from reliving them, anything he could think of.  His muscles were weak from the tense position in which he remained since he was brought into this horrible place.  His stomach was longing for food, and his throat was in need of even the tiniest drink of water.  Nothing had been given to him except for the striped, threadbare prison uniform that was forced upon him at his arrival.  He rested his forehead onto his knees, hoping that he would not be forced to stay here for long.  Hopefully someone was lobbying for his release.  But who possibly cared enough for him now?  Everyone who ever would have...was dead...Weren't they?

As he was pondering the answer to this question, he heard human footsteps approach the direction of his cell.  He did not think it would come for him, not when there were others who have been in this prison far longer than his single day of imprisonment.  Against his hopes, the footsteps halted in front of his door.  He heard the sound of a wand tapping along the multiple locks on the other side of the entrance before the heavy door slowly opened.  In the doorway was a wizard guard and behind him floated a Dementor.  In rare cases did Severus Snape ever show his fear, but since his sleepless night in the company of Dementors, he was not ashamed to show that he was frightened of them.  He skittishly scrambled as far away from the Dementor as he could.  As the wizard guard entered his cell, so did the Dementor, inhaling as it floated.  Again, his worst memories were forced to the surface of his mind.  As he shut his eyes against them, he found his body restricted again with bindings.   He was levitated again as he was taken from his cell.  It was during this terrible trip that the guard spoke to him for the first and last time, "Someone's had the nerve to defend you in a trial.  I would say goodbye, but you'll be back here soon enough.  No Death Eater's ever been released from Azkaban." 

Albus Dumbledore was slightly nervous.  He paced outside the doors to the Trial Offices of the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  He did not know if his plea for Severus would be taken seriously or as a complete hoax.  He was determined to succeed.  He had received several colorful threats from Professor Flitwick if he should return to Hogwarts without Severus.  He had no other choice but to wait until he was called into the room.  He hoped that they would not be cruel to Severus.   He knew that Severus had enough traumas in his life to even last for long against the powers of a Dementor.  Had he been held in the Ministry last night, or did they actually take him to Azkaban?  He supposed he would know when he saw him. 

Finally, the door opened and a rather young secretary called to him.  "The trial is about to begin, Headmaster."  Without waiting for him, she went back into the room.  Dumbledore prepared his mind for what he may see when he entered the room for Severus's trial.  Gathering himself a final time he stepped over the threshold and into the Trial of Severus Snape. 

The first thing he noticed when he walked into the room was the cruel looking mechanism in the center of the room.  It resembled an ancient torture device.  It was a tall, slender cage with vicious spikes pointing inwards.  This cage with its fierce spikes limited the movement of whoever was unfortunate enough to be confined within it.  The person suffering this misfortune was the Head of Slytherin House, Professor Severus Snape.  His wrists were still bound in front of him.  His long black hair hung like drapes on either side of his clenched eyes.  His slender figure shivered in the striped prison uniform as the shadowy memories dragged to the surface by the Dementors continued to torment his mind. 

There were a large number of wizard officials in attendance in the tiered seating that surrounded the restrained prisoner.  The individual that faced the trembling Severus was the Head of the Department of Magical Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch Sr.  He was a weathered man with a moustache the width of his nose.  His dark hair was beginning to grey and thin.  His eyes were perpetually squinting yet had a clever glint in them.  He sat in his place wearing the traditional black robes of official business, especially during times of trials or other court business.  His hair was mostly hidden by a relatively tall square-shaped hat, giving him the look of authority.  The white cuffs of his undershirt stuck out of the sleeves of the black robes. 

The man next to him was dressed identically.  He seemed to be an aid of some sort.  Other members making up the people of the Ministry were also dressed the same with the exception of the cap.  To the left of this section of gathered officials were members of the press.  To the right and seating also behind the accused were members of the public who wished to watch the proceedings in the trial about to take place. 

Just behind Bartemius Crouch was a former student of Dumbledore's, a student that once shared the same House as the trembling young man in the center of the room.  Lucius Malfoy.  He held himself proudly, as he whispered into the ear of Bartemius.  What he was saying, Dumbledore had no idea.  Most likely he was blackmailing the Ministry official about something.  He was sometimes rumored to be near professional in his blackmailing schemes. 

Taking his eyes from Lucius Malfoy, Dumbledore walked into the round room and took his place in the seating for the public.  He felt a firm hand land on his shoulder and a gruff voice say, "Who do you suppose would defend this wretch?"

Dumbledore turned his gaze upon the person gripping his shoulder familiarly.  He saw a face he knew well, an old friend.  "Alastor Moody," he greeted.  "It has been a long time."

"That it has, my friend," the other man said.  He had a face that looked as patched together as a scarecrow's face, with scars running in many directional slashes, healed over to look like the separation of fabrics.  His eyes gleamed in playful twisted delight.  They were of a soft blue color and they twinkled in a similar way to Dumbledore's own eyes, except where the older wizard's held mischievous delight Alastor's twinkled with perverted, twisted glee.  They slid to Severus Snape, who still stood trembling inside the spiked cage.  "So, who in the room do think is foolish enough to save this one's arse?"

Dumbledore hesitated a moment before answering his long-time friend.  "I am, Alastor." 

The hand on Dumbledore's shoulder withdrew as though burned.  "You?  Merlin, Albus, of all people, you should be able to see that darkness pours from the boy!"

"It is the wishes of my staff that I manage to defend him." 

"Even if I had the entire staff of the Aurors' Office telling me to convince the Ministry of Snape's innocence I would not make a move towards it."

Dumbledore was silent a moment.  "I feel that Severus has a purpose yet, and that we will need him before the end." 

Moody snorted and leaned back in his seat as he spoke.  "For your sake, I hope that turns out to be true.  Wouldn't want to free a Death Eater for nothing, now would we?"

"Of course not, Alastor," Dumbledore replied. 

At that moment, the bang, bang, bang of Bartemius Crouch calling for order sounded, prompting those gathered to be silent.  The trial was about to begin.  Dumbledore did not fail to notice that Lucius Malfoy was nowhere to be seen in the room.  Had he imagined the other man's presence?  The very question slid from his mind as soon as Bartemius began speaking. 

"Severus Snape," Mr. Crouch began, firmly.  "You have been brought from Azkaban Prison by the request of Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.  This is a privilege not usually given, but considering his service to the Wizarding Community, the request was granted.  He wishes to defend the charge put against you of being found a loyal servant to...You-Know-Who...and a Death Eater.  Do you have anything you wish to say?" 

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, Severus's eyes looked frantically about the room as though he were an animal seeking its owner to beg for life instead of being put to sleep.  When his eyes focused on Dumbledore, his mind lost focus of everything else in the room, such was his surprise at anyone coming to his aid.  "Mr. Snape!"  Severus focused his attention again on Mr. Crouch.  "I asked you if you had anything to say."  Severus's mind whirled in desperation to come up with something beyond the standard plea of innocence. 

Finally, after what seemed an eternity for the caged man, Dumbledore rose to his feet and spoke.  "May I speak for him?"  Bartemius Crouch looked to the older wizard for a moment before gesturing his consent.  "Thank you," Dumbledore said as he stepped down into the open area surrounding Severus and in front of everyone seated.  "He was in the service of Voldemort," he began before he was overwhelmed by the sounds of outrage by those gathered.  Mr. Crouch screamed for silence immediately.  Dumbledore continued.  "But it was in the period of time just between summer and autumn that Severus came to me expressing his grief over the path he had chosen.  He asked me for guidance on what course he should take.  I advised him and he settled on a very dangerous path.  He turned from Voldemort and instead chose to gather information of his intentions.  He would inform me of these and he thus began his path as a spy for us in the fight against Voldemort, risking his life by attending every Death Eater meeting to which he was summoned."

"You say a spy?"  Mr. Crouch asked, in a skeptical tone.  "Is it not known that once one becomes a Death Eater they remain so for the rest of their lives?"

"That is usually the case, unless and until something dear to you is threatened."  Severus drew in a quick intake of breath when Dumbledore said this.  He promised! 

To the shock and dismay of Dumbledore, his old friend stood from the seating and in a booming voice demanded, "I say we use Veritaserum on Snape to see if what Dumbledore claims is true!"

Dumbledore and Moody glared at each other for a moment, daring each other to back down.  Unfortunately, their silent battle was brought to an end when Bartemius Crouch spoke.  "The Department of Magical Enforcement concurs with Auror Moody.  Veritaserum will be used on Mr. Snape to determine the truth of this matter.  If there is any indication that he is a loyal Death Eater, he will be returned to Azkaban.  However, if there is a unanimous count among all officials here to his innocence, then Mr. Snape will be immediately released and permitted to reclaim his position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Does this suit all in attendance?"  At that question he glanced significantly at professor Dumbledore, who nodded gravely.  Mr. Crouch nodded.  "Very well, send for a vial of Veritaserum." 

"Might as well make it a large one, sir," said Alastor Moody.  "I hear Snape can resist the usual dosage of Veritaserum, seeing as he is familiar with brewing it himself.  If it were me, I'd pour an entire vial down his throat rather than the standard three drops."

"Alastor!  Is that necessary?" Dumbledore boomed. 

"It is when a Death Eater's being questioned." 

Dumbledore huffed again, growing more and more nervous by the moment.  An assistant rushed from the room to fetch the Veritaserum.  During the time in which this person was gone, Mr. Crouch vanished the cruel cage from around Severus Snape.  Instantly, Snape's upper arms were grabbed roughly by two Ministry officials as he was taken away from the center of the room where the cage stood moments ago.  With a second wave of his wand, Crouch caused a heavy throne-like metal chair to appear in the place of the torturous cage.  The Ministry officials forced Severus to sit in this chair, roughly pushing on his shoulders, giving his knees no option but to buckle and slam his body down on the seat of the chair.  His wrists were released from their restraints for only a moment before each arm was slammed onto the armrests and held down until manacles snapped over his bruised wrists restricting the young wizard once again.  His ankles were also then released from their bindings and fastened in the same fashion but to the legs of the chair.  By this time, the assistant returned with a tall, slender vial of dark-colored liquid.  It was delivered to Mr. Crouch, who, with a signal to the outspoken Auror, turned it over to Alastor Moody.

"Questioning of the accused will be conducted by the Auror Alastor Moody," announced Mr. Crouch.  "You may begin whenever you wish."

Moody accepted the potion with a nod.  He walked directly to the wide-eyed Severus who stared nervously at the approaching Auror, trembling in his restraints.  Alastor looked upon the young man for a moment before stopping directly at the man's right side.  He removed the cork of the vial.  Without warning or indication, he grabbed Severus's long locks and jarred his head back, causing a pained cry to escape from Snape's lips.  At the instant his lips opened, Moody stopped the sound by tipping the vial, spilling the entire contents into the young wizard's mouth.  Severus closed his eyes as he began to choke on the amount of liquid being forced into his mouth.  Alastor threw aside the now empty vial and forced Severus's jaw closed, pinching together his nostrils giving him the choice to either swallow - and suffer the effects of the potion - or to suffocate.  Once he felt Snape swallow, Moody released him.  Severus's head fell forward, his ragged breathing clearly heard in the now silent room. 

"What is your name?" Alastor began.

"Severus Snape," he answered instantly, as though by reflex.

"What is your current employment?"

"Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." 

"Are you a Death Eater?"

"I was a Death Eater, until-"

"There!" declared Moody, triumphantly, turning to face Mr. Crouch.  "You see?  He admitted to being a Death Eater!"

At this point Dumbledore spoke up.  "I believe, Council, that Severus was about to say additional information before he was interrupted.  May he be allowed to speak before we jump to conclusions?"

There was a moment of silence before Bartemius Crouch nodded.  "Very well.  Auror Moody, do not interrupt the accused in the midst of his statements."

"Certainly, sir."  With a hardened glare, Alastor Moody turned to face Severus again, whose head was now slightly raised.  His hair framed his eyes, giving him a slightly sinister look.  "What were you going to say?"

Severus glared a moment at Alastor.  "Until the life of someone whom I cared for was threatened."

"And what did you do when this...person...was threatened?"

"I sent an owl to Dumbledore requesting him to meet me at a place of his choosing.  He agreed and sent a reply telling me where and when to meet him.  I arrived at this destination before he did, and...once he appeared I begged him to...swear that he would help me, that he would give his protection.  I did not care how it was done, but I knew that he was the only one that could protect anyone or anything of importance from...the Dark Lord." 

"And did he give this protection?" Mr. Crouch asked, genuinely interested in this testimony, overruling Moody's procedure.

"On one condition."  Severus hesitated as though he were lost in his thoughts.

"And this condition was?" Moody urged. 

"That I give him something in return." 

"And," Mr. Crouch interrupted Moody's questioning again, "what was this...thing you gave in return for Dumbledore's services?"

Severus raised his head and looked directly into the eyes of Bartemius Crouch.  "That I report to him on all of the activities of...the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters, and any of his other followers."

Moody leaped on the opportunity before Crouch could say anything else.  "And did you do this?"

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, another voice chimed in.  The voice of Dumbledore.  "Without Severus, we would never have known that Voldemort had targeted the Potter family-"

"But the result of that were the deaths of all of the Potters!" Crouch roared.

"Which was also the downfall for Voldemort himself!"  Dumbledore shouted.  There was a pregnant silence after that statement.  Severus's eyes were clenched shut, his expression pained.  Dumbledore stared hard at Crouch, who returned the glare.  Alastor remained near Severus, focusing on Mr. Crouch.  "Surely you cannot consider that the man who, in a way, brought about the downfall of Voldemort as a loyal Death Eater.  Granted, it is a roundabout logic but because of him we were able to ensure the end of Voldemort." 

There was another silence.  "I will ask you again, Severus Snape, when did you supposedly turn from the Death Eaters?"

"I transferred my loyalty from the Death Eaters when I overheard that the life of someone of whom I cared for was in jeopardy.  This was near the end of August of this year.  From that point on, I swore to myself and to Headmaster Dumbledore that I would never again be loyal to the Death Eaters or to...him, and that I would do everything I could to disrupt their activities.  Therefore, I gave the Headmaster reports of all of the activities discussed at the Death Eater meetings, at least those which I was able to hear."  He smirked at this point.  "You may have realized that in September and October there were many more successes for the Auror Department and their apprehending Death Eaters than before.  I believe you managed to capture even the famous dueler Igor Karkaroff, yes?"  After a moment of arrogance, his expression collapsed.  "My only regret is that my efforts could not save some people from...horrible fates."  He became silent and contemplative. 

The members of the Ministry of Magic and all others gathered were silent as they gazed upon the silent accused man shackled to the chair before them.   The long silence was broken by Mr. Crouch's slow speech.  "This session will go into recess during which time the Council will deliberate as to the fate of the accused, Severus Snape."  With a sharp banging sound the Trial of Severus Snape was halted, and the chattering of all in attendance began with two exceptions:  Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. 

The evening meal was in full swing at Hogwarts.  Where there had recently been only one chair vacant, now there were two.  Professor McGonagall remained in her usual seat, which was between the two empty chairs, making her stand out.  She raked her eyes across the House Tables.  The Ravenclaws were discussing with each other, their heads clustered together as though the knowledge they shared with each other was extremely rare and very secret.  The Gryffindors were as loud and animated as usual, arms flailing in their wide gestures, laughs booming and echoing throughout the Great Hall.  The Hufflepuffs were talking amongst themselves but not nearly as deafeningly as the Gryffindors nor as secretive as the Ravenclaws.  When she looked upon Slytherin House her eyes took them in with a twinge of pity.  They moved sluggishly, with slow, deliberate, soundless movements to reach for a helping of vegetables, or to grip their goblets.  Not a single one spoke.  The table was silent, even as they ate, not a sound was heard from the Slytherins. 

McGonagall reached towards her own drink, which she managed to arrange for a dry red wine that night, and took a long sip.  She looked to her fellow Heads of House, noticing that she was not the only one who was not feeling as well as every other day.  Professor Flitwick constantly seemed to be dabbing his face nervously with a handkerchief between each bite.  Professor Sprout, on the other hand, was running a record for having the most dinner table disasters in one night.  She had spilled the peas onto the floor when she had tried to serve them onto her plate at the beginning of dinner.  She managed to rip her napkin that she had been twisting and pulling ferociously in her lap.  As she reached for her goblet - also of wine that night - she accidentally knocked it forward and to the ground, spilling the red liquid onto the dais on which the staff table rested.  Luckily for Professor Sprout, she was spared the humiliation of the student body looking at her mishap by the doors to the Great Hall being flung open. 

The headmaster walked slowly into the Great Hall.  This was not what caused all of the gathered students to stare silently.  It was the figure walking unsteadily beside their headmaster.  He looked exhausted, like he did not wish to be in the large room, and as though all of his weight was being supported by the headmaster.  When he felt the eyes of everyone on him, Dumbledore looked out at the students and raised his voice.  "I wish you to welcome back Professor Snape, who was found innocent of the charges against him this evening.  His classes will resume starting tomorrow and he will continue to serve as the Head of Slytherin House."  At this announcement, there was an assortment of responding noises.  Some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs applauded, though very few of the Gryffindors showed any support for their Potions Professor.  It was the Slytherin table that erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, most of them smiling to some degree.  Severus looked up at his House, meeting as many of their eyes as he could while he was reluctantly escorted to the staff table, feeling like he was on display.  The chatter of the other tables resumed almost instantly. 

Once he reached it, some members of the staff acknowledged his return, while others simply looked at him.  Once he got to his seat, Severus found himself staring at a fresh and full plate of food summoned with reflexive speed by his neighbor, Professor McGonagall.  "Thank you," he greeted her.  She nodded in response.  Professor Sprout summoned him a goblet and drifted it over to him, which he took from the air, unintentionally showing his discolored wrists.  Immediately, Professor Flitwick jumped from his chair and scurried over to his former student. 

"Severus, dear boy, let me see your arms."  Without question, he obeyed, baring the bruised flesh.  Flitwick let out a squeak of alarm before brandishing his wand.  "Relax, now.  This won't take a minute."  The little wizard muttered some simple sounding phrases as he gently pressed the tip of the wand against Severus's wrist.  The color began to fade receding until the usual skin tone appeared.  He did the same to the other wrist before inspecting his work.  He giggled merrily.  "There, now.  At least you won't have to visit Madam Pomfrey this time." 

Allowing himself a small grin Severus replied, "Yes, and you know how much I hate it in there." 

"Quite, quite," Flitwick responded.  "I will say this, Severus, you need to get as much rest as possible tonight.  If I am correct, you start the morning with the Gryffindor and Slytherin third years, yes?"

Severus rolled his eyes and sighed.  "Merlin help me, yes.  I do not understand why the headmaster continues to put rival Houses together."  He took a long drink from his goblet of wine, his face showing his approval of Professor Sprout's choice. 

Flitwick spoke low so that none other than the two of them could hear.  "We both know that rival Houses can find deep comfort and peace with each other."

"That was an exception, of which no one else must know," Severus responded.

"And so it shall remain, but I hope this secret does not destroy you, Severus."

"I hope so, too."  Flitwick turned and began walking back to his seat.   Severus got his attention again.  "Professor, would you please come to my quarters soon?" 

"Is tonight suitable?"

"It should be." 

Flitwick nodded.  "Then tonight it shall be.  Nine o'clock."  He turned and continued walking to his seat.  Severus took another look at the Slytherin table, some of the students still looking at him as though not believing he was there again.  He schooled his expression as he lifted his fork and, for the first meal since before returning to Hogwarts, speared a morsel of food and chewed it, appreciating the cooking of the House Elves as much as he did as a student on the first dinner of every new term.