The Daily Prophet had two pictures on the front page the next day. The biggest one showed Harry and Snape side by side in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Harry looked so much like a young James Potter with his glasses on, posing with ease at Snape’s side, that it was almost comical. He reckoned Snape might not think so, however, and that to be pictured with a copy of his former rival at his side might not raise the headmaster’s spirits.

The other, smaller, picture was one of Jonathan Frankiss, healer at St Mungo’s Hospital, abducted the previous night by an organisation called the Shifting Successors, supported by the Death Eaters of Voldemort. The organisation had sent the same kind of black letter that Snape had received to the editorial office of the Daily Prophet.

The paper had previously reported from Snape’s inquiry with moderation and made a guarded interpretation of the event, as if cautious to prematurely pronounce the innocence of Snape. Now they presented two alternatives. Either Snape was the victim, targeted by the Shifting Successors, or he was their secret ally. Perhaps Mr Frankiss had changed his mind, or realised that what Dumbledore had said did not at all mean what he had thought it meant at first. If that was the case, and if Snape had learnt about his doubts, then Snape himself might be behind the abduction of Mr Frankiss.

The paper criticised Kingsley Shacklebolt for being so quick to support Snape, before the trial was over. They made it appear almost indecent that Kingsley and Snape would have held a ball at Hogwarts while a man was kidnapped, as if it had been a deliberate diversion to fool the Aurors. At this point in the article, the gullibility of Mrs Steadfast was also questioned, as was her collaboration with Snape.

Harry and Hermione shook their heads as they read the articles. The press was decidedly against Snape, even without the influence of Rita Skeeter, who was hospitalised at St Mungo’s with an inability to transform her lower body back from her damaged Animagus self. She had no legs and the healers did not think they were going to be able to Regrow them, according to Mrs Steadfast.

Why was the press still so hard on Snape? Things clearly looked bad for him. Harry and Hermione did not have much time to ponder upon this, however, as they needed to move on with revising for their exams. They had no choice but to plunge into work. Before the week was over, something happened that forced them to make a definite stand where Snape’s trial was concerned, however.

One morning, Hermione received a letter by owl from an anonymous source. It was not a black letter, but the content was as unpleasant as if it had been one, because she was threatened and exhorted to leave her position as Snape’s defender. Otherwise she might meet the same fate as Mr Frankiss, the letter said.

Ron was shocked and hit the roof with agitation. He thought that his girlfriend should step aside straight away, while Hermione’s instinct was to resist. You should not allow threats and violence to triumph over reason and truth, was her position. They argued so forcibly that neither Ginny, nor Harry was let into the discussion initially. Their first lesson was Potions with Snape and the argument continued under a Muffliato spell at the back of the classroom. Ginny stepped in sometimes on Ron’s side, sometimes on Hermione’s side. Harry did not say much and was the first to observe that they had drawn the attention of Professor Snape who had stolen upon them.

Snape simply lifted the Muffliato spell away, which Harry had until then thought impossible to do if you were not part of the Muffliated group. Harry was not surprised, however - because if someone should know how to break the magic, it would be Snape, since he was the inventor of the spell. Snape asked silkily whether they debated the properties of the granite pebbles or those of the quartz crystals. The Griffindors obviously did not debate anything at all any longer as they had all gone mute at his interruption. Ron looked like he longed to say something, but kept his lips pressed together.

“We wonder if we could have a word with you and Mrs Steadfast later today?” Harry finally asked and Snape frowned, slightly surprised.

“It can be arranged. I’ll let you know,” he said curtly and left them. After the lesson, Ron was furious with Harry, even if telling Snape and Mrs Steadfast had been his idea from the start.

“We don’t need to discuss the issue with them,” he said. “We only need to let them know that Hermione no longer can play the part of Snape’s defender. Why did you have to involve them in our considerations? We’ve always managed on our own and made our own decisions.”

“It doesn’t hurt to discuss things. Moreover, we’re not kids any longer. We need to start trusting some instances, collaborating with them. Mrs Steadfast might become your boss next year if you enter the Auror program, you know,” retorted Harry. Ron snorted, but calmed down.

After lunch, they were called into Professor McGongall’s office where they were joined by Snape and Mrs Steadfast.

“Did you receive an owl this morning, Miss Granger?” the head of the Aurors asked. Professor McGonagall flinched and Hermione gaped at Mrs Steadfast.

“How did you know?” she said.

“Several people contacted the Auror’s Office this morning. Persons who were on the list to testify about being rescued by Professor Snape’s Patronus. They’ve all received threats. Will you please show me your letter, Miss Granger.”

Hermione pulled a parchment out of her bag and handed it over.

“Hmm, yes, very similar to the others. Have you decided what to do?” asked Mrs Steadfast.

“We were discussing it this morning,” answered Hermione. ”We do not agree on how to act. I believe you should not yield to threats like this, but...”

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry was quicker.

“You cannot do it, Hermione. You must withdraw,” he said.

“But Harry, it’s you who...”

“They might go after your parents, have you thought about that? You went to great lengths to protect them when we fled Voldemort last year, you cannot risk them being harmed now.”

Hermione looked aghast at him.

“Do you actually think they would...?”

“They’ve learnt from Voldemort,” reinforced Harry. ”And they did not hesitate to abduct Healer Frankiss. All in all, they seem determined to bring about Professor Snape’s conviction, at whatever cost. I’m afraid there’s not more we can do, however. I’m sorry, Professor, we really wanted to help.” Harry spoke without looking at Snape.

“I believe it’s the safest thing to do,” Mrs Steadfast said cautiously. Snape cleared his voice.

“You’ve been extremely helpful, Miss Granger. I wouldn’t have allowed you to continue as my lawyer under the prevailing circumstances. I’ll do my own defence, speak for myself.”

“But Professor, you...”

“The evidence from the inquiry will be taken into account. There’s still the wand examination, which you arranged, Miss Granger. You’ve done quite enough, more than I could have asked for. I agree with Mr Potter that there is not more you can do.” Snape spoke courteously, almost lightly, while there was concern written on Mrs Steadfast’s face.

“We’ll find out where they’re keeping Mr Frankiss,” she muttered. “My whole squad is at the task, Severus.”

“People will be scared to testify, you’ll be quite on your own, Professor. And you’ll probably not even be allowed to use the Veritaserum.” Ron who initially had been adamant for Hermione to desert Snape, voiced his sudden realisation and looked at his headmaster with apprehension.

“Well, I’m kind of used to act on my own, Mr Weasley,” answered Snape a little dismissively.

“I... I have looked it up, Professor. No one can prevent you from using the Veritaserum, you know. There’s no law or regulation that will keep you from taking it. It’s just that it’ll be noted that it’s not approved by the Ministry. If you take it, it might at least allow you, if you are convicted, to appeal to the court, once it’s registered, to review your case later on.”

“He’ll not be convicted, Hermione,” said Harry sharply. “The court will know of the threats. They’re in themselves proof of his innocence so they’ll be sensible. Professor Snape will convince them.” Harry lifted his chin stubbornly.

“Exactly so,” Snape caught on in a light tone. “Mr Potter is absolutely right. I’ll do fine. I don’t want you to give it another thought. You need to concentrate on your exams – that’s more important now.”

“Severus, maybe I could testify. I’m old, they have nothing to threaten me with. I’m not afraid of...” Professor McGongall spoke.

“No!” said Snape with steel in his voice and continued in a milder tone: “You don’t really have any evidence to give, Minerva, except your faith in me, for which I am honoured.”

“Albus would not have wanted this... he would’ve been outraged. He would have found a way...” answered Professor McGonagall in a slightly shriller tone than her usual composed voice.

***

The four weeks leading up to the exams were unusually warm and sunny. Students could not resist going outside, although revising was less effective than in the library. The sun beams made them want to shut their eyes, lie down and listen to the singing of the wind in the trees. The loud chirrups of birds and insects distracted them from reading. The greenery invited to long walks. No one visited the dungeons any more. There were more inviting places for building love nests in the surroundings.

Harry and his friends frequently made excursions to the other side of the lake. For some reason, Harry had started to avoid the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where he had used to do his training sessions and he had not entered the forest since they had purchased the centaur hair before Easter. At the other side of the lake, he felt safe.

Harry did not know what to make out of his relationship with Ginny. On a superficial plane, they continued almost as if the events at Easter had never happened. There was a troubling tentativeness and an inevitable void between them, however, caused by the necessity to steer clear of sensitive subjects. They avoided to mention Fred, and they never spoke about Paris. Ginny ignored the fact that Harry woke up from nightmares, remnant of the horrid night, every now and again. Neither had she made any comments on his attack of claustrophobia during the school ball. Harry did not force the information upon her, but still could not help feeling a sting of betrayal because of her blatant choice to ignore everything complicated or disturbing. He told himself that Ginny, too, was a victim of the circumstances and realised that she was more affected than she was ready to acknowledge - a denial which, of course, was part of the problem.

Most importantly, her affliction showed when they made love. As Ginny was Harry’s first and only true girl-friend, he had nothing to compare with, but Ginny had had a couple of boy-friends earlier and was more experienced. Harry had been exceedingly embarrassed and only grudgingly flattered when they started school and he realised that Ginny secretly boasted about him in front of her closest friends. He had no idea how others were going about love-making but personally, he enjoyed giving - it was as simple as that, and Ginny repeatedly praised him, with that mischievous sparkle in her brown eyes, for being such a patient lover. Well, he enjoyed it, and it was the only way he knew, he thought defensively.

Since Paris, however, there was a high-strung quality and wild desperation to their embraces. It was intense to an almost insupportable degree. They made love as if it was for the last time before the end of the world, every single time. It was Ginny who pushed and rushed, driven by some primordial force of angst, while Harry endeavoured to slow her down, to soothe her. Ginny ended up a complete mess, exhausted and disconcerted, whereas Harry was in more control of the strange compound of pleasure and anxiety. Ginny refused to talk about the issue, however, and simply turned a deaf ear to Harry’s gently voiced worries. She ignored the problem in the same way she had handled her slip of tongue about Fred’s death.

Harry was not prepared to share his deepening concerns for Ginny with his friends - it was too private, so he simply added it to the list of matters he needed to sort out with Ginny during the summer. Because, honestly, thought Harry, he did not really have time to ponder upon it at the moment. There was the uncertain situation of Snape’s trial, there was the underlying current of threats from the Shifting Successors and the remaining Death Eaters and there were the upcoming exams.

Harry struggled with the last chapters of Arithmancy at the same time as he revised his other subjects. He had developed a personal method for revising, where he surrounded himself with quotes and formulas, magically suspended in the air that he would sort, move about, repeat and memorise. His friends and teachers watched him with surprise as he would at unexpected moments conjure up his three-dimensional memory charts and start revising, at breakfast, or in the corridor.

“It helps me remember things, to visualise them floating in the air and to colour code them,” he explained to Hermione who stuck to ordinary revising from books as she was good at memorising words and phrases. The teachers did their best to support the NEWT students and urged them on.

Snape made a practice of peppering the NEWT students for the first ten minutes of each lesson, both in DADA and in Potions, with all kind of questions which he claimed could all make subjects of the exams. Even if he still made his usual sarcastic comments, they did not feel that his object was to plague them, but that he had a sincere wish to have them succeed their tests.

Harry was not sure, but he got the impression that Snape targeted him in particular during these intense interrogations, to look for gaps in his education, which he had to acknowledge, had been least to say uneven during the past years. On more than one occasion, Snape pin-pointed something that made Harry go to the library to deepen his shallow knowledge of the same subject.

The interaction between Snape and Harry was limited to that in the class-room. They did not avoid each other entirely and exchanged a couple of words now and then, politely, but with much reserve on both sides. Snape did on a whole appear distant. His mood was even, but although there were no signs of defeat in his countenance, a certain resignation was discernible. There were times when Harry would catch Snape watching him with an inscrutable expression. Sometimes the dialogue between Snape and Lucius Malfoy that Harry had overheard at the Ministry would play in Harry’s mind and with the harsh words about James Potter echoing in his ears, Harry would grimace and shake his head.

The date for Snape’s trial had been set to the very last day of the school term. Hermione thought that Kingsley had once again intervened in Snape’s favour and delayed matters. Like this Snape would be able to supervise the course of the exams.

One evening when Harry and Ginny were on their way back from the library to the Gryffindor tower, they came across Snape and Mrs Steadfast in the Entrance Hall. Harry had not failed to notice that the head of the Aurors Office had become an even more frequent visitor of lately. She and Snape consulted each other with serious faces. Harry stopped on an impulse. He had something he needed to say to Snape and it was better done now than at the end of a lesson with other people around.

“Can I have a word, Sir?” he asked and Snape nodded. “Go on, Ginny, it’ll only take ten minutes, I’ll join you in the common room.”

“Okay Harry, see you.” But as she was about to climb the stairs, Ginny suddenly revolved with an anguished expression on her face, retraced her steps to kiss Harry ferociously on the mouth, only to back off from him again with a disturbed expression on her face.

“Ginny, I’ll be with you in no time,” said Harry, embarrassed in front of Snape and Mrs Steadfast and sounding mildly reproaching.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” she said with tears rising in her eyes and fled up the stairs.

“Nerve-racking, the upcoming exams, I guess,” said Mrs Steadfast. Harry still followed Ginny with his eyes.

“No, she doesn’t give a gnome’s toenail about the exams,” he replied. “She’s been like that since Paris. Like there’s a catastrophe lurking any moment, any place. As if I’m to die from her tomorrow.”

“Well, you did suffer that attack. She’s not imagining there’s a threat against you. Not so easy to live with,” retorted Mrs Steadfast.

“She says she’s not afraid, but it’s kind of physical... Like a subconscious bodily reaction... Despite her Obliviating treatment... or because of it. I wonder if she doesn’t suffer some side effects...” Harry shook his head.

Snape looked concerned, but said nothing.

“But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.” Harry steeled himself and drew his breath as he looked from Snape to Mrs Steadfast. “Not found Healer Frankiss yet, I guess,” he said to Mrs Steadfast as he exhaled. He knew they had not, and did not really listen to her negative answer. He bit his lower lip and felt his heart beginning to race. This was not as easy as he had thought it would be.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Steadfast, just a quick word in private,” he suddenly muttered and drew up a Muffliato spell around Snape and himself that shut Mrs Steadfast out and left her surprised and vexed. Snape stared at him. Harry started to speak very fast looking down on Snape’s shoes.

“I just have a couple of things that I need to say to you, please, Sir. Er... First of all I want to say that I really hope that you’ll be acquitted at the trial - that they’ll be just and sensible and listen to you. And I think there’s a fair chance after all. It might just be enough to... Anyway… In the case of your being convicted – you do have to prepare for that eventuality all the same, don’t you?”

Harry cast Snape a desperate look and tried to collect himself.

“You’ll excuse me, I’m just speculating, but... I don’t know if you’ve already had an offer from Lucius Malfoy to rescue you on the way to Azkaban in a similar way he arranged for himself…? Or if you expect to receive such an offer…? Yes? No? Anyhow, I regard it as not improbable that he would like to lay his hands on you and that you, quite understandably, will seriously consider such an offer, because going to Azkaban is not an alternative, not really...”

Harry paused and swallowed.

“If he were to help you with an escape, it will be a manoeuver in order to try to convince you to join the Death Eaters again, or because they want to revenge themselves on you... And I want to say that I think that you should on no account trust your old friends. Even if Lucius Malfoy might still want to include you in the gang, the younger fellows of the Shifting Successors won’t be duped. You have no chance of convincing them you’re one of them, I think. The spy at Hogwarts – who might be Mr Burgess - or someone else – will have attended the inquiry and no one who did can believe you to be a true follower of Voldemort. So to the next thing.”

Harry drew his breath.

“Anyone who sees you can deduce that Mrs Steadfast and you are planning something… Of course it might be anything… But, knowing you both… and after our discussion at Easter… I want to say that if Mrs Steadfast and you are planning that she shall facilitate a rescue action by the Death Eaters on your transport to Azkaban, and that you shall let yourself be captured by them, in order to infiltrate the organisation and become a spy once more - on Mrs Steadfast’s behalf this time - in order to try to find Healer Frankiss and find the remaining Pleasure Temple, I really think it’s an abortive enterprise... clearly abortive... You stand no chance...”

Snape who had been taken by surprise by Harry’s torrent of words opened his mouth to say something, but Harry lifted a hand to stop him.

“No, just listen, please, Sir. I might be completely mistaken in my assumptions. If that’s the case, just forget everything I’ve said. However... I do understand that an experienced wizard like yourself is bound to have thought out different alternatives and plans, but I just wanted to say that in case it doesn’t work out the way you want... if you need a place to hide... because I do insist that you shouldn’t accompany the Death Eaters to whatever headquarters they might offer... in case of an emergency, in short, I wanted to say that you’re welcome to go to Grimmauld Place, the old Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. You know the place. It’s still safe, hidden from Muggles and all, and protected by a Fidelius Charm. I considered going to live there on my own... so I updated the charm this summer. I’m myself the Secret Keeper and this is how you’ll get inside.”

Harry gave a small piece of paper to Snape who accepted it out of shear surprise and stared at it. Then he closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head.

“I’ve told you, Harry, not to be so trusting! For Heaven’s sake, that’s your safe place! You cannot just reveal it to me. What if I’m captured by the Death Eaters and I pass on the information? Then you’ll be in danger!” Snape was clearly upset and gritted his teeth in frustration at Harry’s naivety. “Admit I’m condemned to go to Azkaban and admit I manage to escape. You cannot protect a criminal.”

“Of course I can protect an innocent man! I helped Sirius when he fled the Dementors. I’m prepared to help you.” Snape stared at him with an outraged expression that turned into puzzlement.

“Why are you doing this?” he said in an almost faint voice. “Are you imagining you owe me something? You don’t - on the contrary, I... Why are you doing this?” Snape repeated more firmly. Harry squirmed.

“You would have done the same for me,” he said.

“What?” Snape looked the very picture of bewilderment.

“You said so yourself, when we were at the Ministry,” Harry reminded him. “You promised me that I wouldn’t have to go to Azkaban for the killing of Machivato. I don’t really know what you had in mind, nor if it was a realistic undertaking considering the state I was in after Paris, but you did seem to mean it. I guess you could’ve blasted a hole in the roof of the Ministry and taken off with me on a broomstick or something if they had decided to send me back to France.” Harry laughed softly, turning his head embarrassedly.

Snape let out a sudden chuckle as he lifted a slightly trembling hand to his forehead and shook his head once again.

“I meant what I said,” added Harry in a low, embarrassed voice. “I haven’t spoken to my friends about this, so it’s only you and me who know. And don’t tell her...” He gestured with his head towards Mrs Steadfast. “...because if you manage to escape on your way to Azkaban, she’ll have a hard time as it is to keep her job. She’s the head of the Aurors, you know - she shouldn’t be involved in this sort of things,” said Harry with reproach in his voice. “Of course, I hope it won’t need to come to this. Grimmauld Place is just a back-up, a last resort where you can hide. I sincerely wish you good luck with your trial, Professor.” Harry inclined his head politely. ”Oh... and I’m doing this because I truly believe that my mother would have wanted me to help her childhood friend.”

Harry spoke the last words quietly, but with a stubborn honesty, without looking at Snape, and he lifted the Muffliato spell as suddenly as he had drawn it and left precipitately up the stairs.

In the Entrance Hall, Snape literally staggered as Harry’s words sank in, and Mrs Steadfast let out an exclamation and grabbed his arm, clueless as to how the remarkably gentle and candid young wizard repeatedly managed to discompose the hardened and imperturbable former Death Eater.

***

They had revised so intensely, ruminating the same things over and over again, that the exams were almost welcome when at last the time came. The hour before stepping inside the hall and picking up the quill for the first exam was agonising, though. All of a sudden, Harry did not feel in the least prepared. His head only recalled things that he had not revised at all, and he nearly panicked. Hermione tried to remind him of his serene attitude towards the exams at the beginning of the school year when he had said that nothing could really affect him after what he had gone through with Voldemort and that to focus on school work and exams would be a privilege. Harry only groaned in response - it was clearly derisive to be reminded of that now.

Once the test started, though, Harry felt as if transported to the school library working on an unusually interesting piece of homework and he had no problem to let go of his nervousness. Every now and then he would raise his head and look about him in the air, visualising in his head the space maps he had been using for revision. The next exams did not provoke as much agony as the first and the whole week passed in an atmosphere of intense concentration and suspense, alternated by strong relief.

Every evening, Harry and Ron, Ginny and Hermione would sit on the balcony of the Gryffindor tower and watch the sun set over the forbidden forest. It would dive under the horizon just before the chain of blue mountains that was like a backcloth north of the Forbidden Forest. The peaked mountains were beautiful, but still gave a hostile impression and Harry thought of Hagrid who had stayed hidden there for months in a cave, together with his half-brother Gwarp, until the battle had brought him out of his hiding-place, only a year ago.

On the sheltered space of the balcony, they would speak about their feelings at the thought of leaving Hogwarts so soon. These were the last days as inhabitants of the castle and they could not even savour them properly because they needed to focus on the exams. Harry did not say much on the subject. He felt his chest tighten at the thought of leaving Hogwarts. More important to him than to the others, because this had been his home. He shook off the feeling of being about to lose his foothold and being launched into nothingness. He knew that it was not true. He had survived outside Hogwarts a whole year already and next year would probably offer better conditions than what last year had comprised. Maybe he would be studying at St Mungo’s. Maybe they would all be living at Grimmauld Place in London. The future was luring and frightening at the same time.

He had done well on his OWL exam of Arithmancy. The NEWT exam took place at the very end of the exam period, the day before the last day at school. Harry was again plunged into the same agony he had felt before the first exam. When it was over, he stood in the Entrance Hall, with red spots on his cheeks from the effort and a slightly feverish gaze, eagerly comparing answers with Hermione, shifting through the questions with slightly trembling hands.

“At least I did two of the tasks almost without fault,” he said uncertainly. “But I failed to do that circular sum you said you had to do on the fourth question and I missed...”

“It should only bring about minor deductions,” answered Hermione. They lifted their heads from the parchment as they suddenly became aware of a black clad presence in front of them. It was Snape who looked inquiringly at Harry.

“Fairly okay, I think,” Harry said hesitatingly in answer to the mute question. “I... I haven’t failed completely at any rate.”

“I think he has made it, Professor,” clarified Hermione. Snape nodded at her.

“Good. In case I won’t see you again, I wish you good luck with Medical School at St Mungo’s Hospital, Mr Potter,” said Snape and penetrated Harry with an intense gaze. Harry felt troubled, but before he could reply, Snape revolved and walked away from them.

“Snape doesn’t believe that he stands a chance,” said Harry to Hermione later that evening. “I think he’s resigned to fail at the trial.”

“If you believe the papers, there won’t be a single witness in his favour. All the Patronus witnesses have withdrawn or been told not to show up, out of precaution. I know that David and his father wanted to brave the threats and testify, but Snape wouldn’t let them do it.”

“Let’s just hope for the best.” Harry and Hermione looked gravely at each other. ”We’ve done everything we possibly could do.”