5: The Honorable Amendment

Hermione sat in the large, oval room anxiously. The Wizengamot sat regally along the front row in vivid purple robes, their notes in hand as they chattered to themselves softly. Not many others were present, which she was silently thankful for. She had expected a slew of people against his release, there to protest and give their testimony on his past. Things were most certainly looking good.

She settled into the seat quietly, and her hands folded in her lap serenely. She looked to be perfectly at ease, but she was in fact a nervous wreck. She was absolutely terrified that her work would prove fruitless; afraid that she had gotten the man's hopes up about being released and they would deny him. She swallowed hard, before checking a tiny, delicate pocket watch that hung like a charm from her wrist.

The proceedings were scheduled to start any moment now. She leaned forward slightly, eager to see it under way. She was eager to see the evidence presented, to see the outcome. The door high above her opened, and she turned to see who had entered. Her heart sank as she saw Professor McGonagall, still clad in her usual school robes. She made her way along the top row, not meeting Hermione's gaze.

This was what she had feared.

She was about to stand and approach the Headmistress, when the doors below opened. She turned back around quickly, her heart pounding as she watched Severus Snape being led into the room. She gasped softly, her brow furrowed as she caught a good look at him. They'd stripped him down to nothing more than a dingy gown-type garment that one wore beneath a robe. Around his neck lay a visibly charmed lasso.

Hermione frowned at their treatment, fighting everything in her not to demand that he be treated like a human being. She wondered if they'd transported him all the way from Azkaban like that.

Swallowing her anger, she took deep breaths as she waited for the hearing to commence. Snape's eyes flicked up to her, and she gave him a soft, encouraging smile. He looked a bit surprised to see her, which was hard to discern considering his unreadable expression. He was led to the center of the room, and to Hermione's horror, forced onto his knees. Her anger flared -- where was the standard chair? Why not the chains? This was an outrage.

"Severus Snape, you are here in accordance with our laws to review your case and plead pardoning, is that correct?" the Chief Warlock bellowed, his voice echoing around the room. Hermione leaned forward, trying to get a good look at the wizards, but failed. She didn't recognize any of them.

Snape's voice replied, soft but strong. "Yes."

"You are aware that the terms you were imprisoned under included murder of Albus Dumbledore? Use of Unforgivable Curses? Dealings with Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Another soft, strong, "Yes."

"Hermione Jane Granger!" the voice bellowed, but its owner not turning to survey the room. "Present?"

Hermione's eyes were wide as she stood shakily. "H-- here!" she called out, her voice trembling as much as her legs. Her hands clasped awkwardly behind her back. What on earth did they want with her?

"Do you attest here before these Interrogators that your actions involving this case were of your own accord, and that you were not acting on any other wishes, or an Imperius Curse?" he bellowed. She swallowed, his tone of voice quite frightening now that it was directed toward her.

"Y-- yes, sir," she replied, nodding despite the fact that he was not looking at her.

"Very well, you may sit," he replied. She obeyed happily, sinking back into her chair with a shaky breath. She looked down to Snape, catching his gaze on her again. She wanted to offer another smile, but she was a mess of nerves now. It was only when she calmed herself that she realized that she had partially lied to the Chief Warlock. In a way, she had been working on the wishes of others.

"Are there any here who would like to put forth testimony for or against this prisoner?" he called, pausing to let a silence fill the large room. The only sound that filled the quiet was the soft flickering of the torches along the wall.

"I would."

Hermione cringed. She knew this would happen. She turned, looking into the stern face of Minerva McGonagall. She was standing in the back of the room, her expression angry and filled with concern. Hermione shook her head slowly, feeling every ounce of hope leave her chest. She could almost hear the words the Professor McGonagall would say.

She would go on to tell the Wizengamot how she had been Dumbledore's confidant; his trusted right-hand woman. She would tell that he would have never put forth such a circumstance.

Hermione swallowed and sank into her seat, an expression of defeat coming over her.

"Headmistress McGonagall," the Chief Warlock said, sounding somewhat surprised as he finally turned in his seat. "Do go on."

McGonagall took a small step out from the aisle she sat in so that she stood in the main walkway, unobstructed by the rows of seats. "Professor Dumbledore was a brilliant man," she began, her voice wavering but strong. "I worked closely with him for many, many years. I knew of his plans, his studies, his past."

She paused, and Hermione thought she'd die of anticipation. She wanted to stand up and yell at her former Head of House, to tell her to spit it out, to condemn the man to a life sentence, rather than dragging it out.

"It's for this reason," she continued, voice breaking slightly. "That I trusted him more than I've ever trusted anyone. And I will say that whatever evidence proves Albus Dumbledore trusted this man," she stopped to gesture to Snape, her sleeve whipping out with the quick movement, "is enough evidence for me."

Hermione turned to stare at the older witch, speechless. McGonagall gave the men on the Wizengamot a small nod, before gathering her robes and sweeping silently out of the room. Hermione slowly looked back to the pit of the room, seeing Snape's reaction mirroring her own. Her heart was pounding as the members of the Wizengamot mumbled amongst themselves for a few moments.

"Severus Snape, if you are prepared to make your statement and amend your past transgressions, we will release you. The evidence that Miss Hermione Granger has presented to us is by far substantial, and it shows your overall dedication to the wartime efforts. Do you agree to these terms?"

The voice rang out in an echo for what seemed like an eternity as Hermione waited with bated breath. "I do."

She let out the breath she'd been holding, and swallowed hard. This was it. He was going to be freed, and she would have finished what she'd started to do. She'd succeeded. For Harry, for Dumbledore. For Snape.

Snape's voice continued, his words sounding lackluster and memorized. "I, Severus Snape, do publicly renounce my past crimes and apologize to all who suffered due to my decisions and actions. I hereby pledge myself here and forever more to the side of light. My loyalties lie with all those who promote Wizarding World Welfare, and nowhere else. My trust lies in the Ministry of Magic."

Hermione noted that bitter note in his voice as he said 'Ministry of Magic,' and she couldn't help but feel horrible for him. Forced there, on his knees, with a rope around his neck. Like an animal!

"Very well," came the loud reply. "Miss Granger!"

Hermione nearly squeaked as her name was called again. "Yes sir!" she cried, a bit quickly and fearfully.

"You will escort Severus Snape back to his home, as you are not only a Ministry official but are aware of this case. Is that understood?"

Hermione agreed, but looked down at her hands. She wasn't sure how she felt about this assignment. Part of her was glad that she'd have a chance to talk to him, to congratulate him on his newfound freedom. Yet, she also wanted to be done with this. To distance herself now that she was finished, and wash her hands clean of the entire ordeal.

She leaned back in her seat, contemplating the turn of events while the proceedings were closing. She finally decided that she would just keep it all as professional as possible. Do her job, be done with it all. As the bang of the gavel shook her of her thoughts, she leaned forward to see them letting Snape to his feet. She swallowed and headed down the aisle before turning and walking carefully down the steps into the pit of the room.

A guard at the bottom put out his arm, but she quickly flashed him the laminated badge that was clipped onto her lapel, and he nodded before dropping his arm and letting her pass. She approached Snape, and noticed that while the Aurors around them worked to uncharm the bonds he wore, no one had removed the vile rope around his neck. She frowned angrily and reached up without a second thought, snatching it over his head and tossing it away.

"He's not a dog," she spat, more to herself than to the Aurors. They, however, caught her vitriolic tone and exchanged a glance.

Snape looked down at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Congratulations on your freedom, sir," she said softly, giving him a smile and a nod.

He did not reply, did not smile; he merely inclined his head, his eyes intense upon hers as his wrists were released. He only looked away to observe his hands and arms, rubbing gently.

"Right," she said softly, nodding. "Well, let's get you out of here, eh?" She offered another smile before gesturing to the doorway, where another Auror held a basic black cloak. She walked ahead of him and took it, shaking it out and holding it for him to slip into. She was trying terribly hard to be polite, to put him at ease. It must have been strange, being let out and trusted so suddenly.

He allowed her to help him, but he did not thank her. As soon as the cloak was slipped on, he moved past her as he closed the small clasps. Hermione sighed and studied him for a moment before walking after him.

"There may be protestors outside," she advised as they made their way down the corridors. "Or simple observers. Don't pay them any mind--they didn't see the evidence, they're ignor--"

"I know, Miss Granger," he replied, his voice bored and monotone. He finished straightening the robes, not looking down to his former student. Hermione took a deep, quiet breath, and did not speak again. She merely guided him out of the building, and quickly pulled him down the side steps toward the alleyway on the west side. There were a few reporters milling about, attempting to look like Muggles on the busy street, but they didn't fool Hermione.

He let her lead him without the slightest hesitation or arguing. She wondered briefly if he was even all right; he was being so utterly complacent.

"I'm afraid we'll need to Apparate to my flat first," she said softly, shaking her head. "Unless you'd rather me send your belongings to you--either way, it's fine, really." She looked up as they stopped in the safety of the alley. She waited, wondering if he would just rather her escort him directly to his home. Surely he would. There was no reason for him to stand around, wait--

"That will be fine," he replied, staring at the wall behind her with those empty eyes.

Oh.

She nodded, then grabbed his arm firmly as she Side-Along Apparated with him. He wouldn't know where he was going if he'd Apparated, and furthermore had no wand. The familiar tug slowed, and they reappeared outside her flat in a small, enisled entry way by her door. It was three tall brick walls covered in moss and ivy, with only a side entrance that faced a large bush. It was her favorite place to Apparate to when returning home.

She noted how Snape observed his surroundings, with an expression somewhere between curiosity and the desperate need to know how to escape. She felt that small tug of pity again.

"Right, well, do come in," she offered as she unlocked and opened the door to him. She gestured inside, and then smiled as he accepted her offer. She followed him in, shoving her keys back into her pocket as she moved past him, heading up the stairs to grab his things. With a deep breath, she shoved his belongings back into the enchanted sack and turned around to head back down, holding out his wand.

She hadn't expected him to follow her, so when she saw him standing at the top of the stairs silently she gave a small jump. "You scared me," she confessed, smiling nervously. She fidgeted with the bag, watching him. He was so incredibly subdued; just standing there, looking around the upstairs of her flat.

"You have a nice home, Miss Granger," he replied softly, before turning and heading back down the stairs. She stared after him, somewhat shocked. Had he complimented her flat? She swallowed and quickly followed behind him before offering the bag.

"And your wand," she added, handing it over as well. He took the belongings and nodded solemnly, his hand wrapping around the wand as if he couldn't quite believe that he was holding it again. He gave another nod, but then looked to her again, his eyes narrowing just a touch as his lips pursed. She waited, sure that something was on his mind.

"When you entered my home, were there any wards in place?" he asked, head tilting back slightly so that he looked down his nose. She thought for a moment, then shook her head. She opened her mouth to give a more vocal response, but he swiftly grabbed her arm and she felt the tug of another Apparation.

They stopped, and she found herself in his sitting room again. She let out a deep breath, and steadied herself. "We could have been spliced if--"

"The wards were gone," he replied simply, letting her go and moving through his house, eyes observing everything with a fierce, critical gaze. Hermione stood awkwardly, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do now. She hadn't even planned on entering his home, and now there she stood. He moved through the house purposefully, his strides more energetic now than they had been before.

"Where is the box?" he asked, standing in the hallway with his hand on the smooth wall. "With the vials?"

She blinked at him for a second, noting that he finally looked to show some sort of expression. She turned quickly and moved to the coffee table, and knelt to pull the box from beneath it. "Ah, here," she offered, carefully setting it on top of the table. She gestured to the bag he'd set down. "Key's in there."

He nodded, moving swiftly from his spot in the hall to where she was. She still knelt on the floor, and she watched with curiosity as he fetched the bag and sat on the couch. Small puffs of dust clouded in the air, causing her to bat it away from her face. Hermione knew she should stand and head out, but she was intrigued, rooted to the spot.

He made no movement to shoo her away, nor did he glare at her for remaining. She decided to wait it out as long as she could. As he opened the box, she perked and looked over the coffee table for the envelope that had been in the Pensieve. Spotting it, she grabbed it and held it out with a soft smile before gesturing to the waiting Pensieve.

He looked to her, brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at her offering. She nodded, pushing it toward him gently. Despite all the aggravation and annoyance she'd felt over the past few months, she was finally being patient and understanding. He needed that right now; she had no right to be angry with him for his reluctance or distrust.

He took it at last and opened it without a word, his black eyes scanning over the page slowly. When he finished, his gaze was softer, and he cleared his throat. "Thank you," he murmured, pocketing the letter in his robes. Hermione gave a small nod, smiling at his change in expression. That was a start, she supposed. He continued on with what he was doing, and she watched with interest.

He sifted through the box, reaching in and grabbing vials at random before feeling along the sides. She thought about it for a moment, and then realized that he was looking for the memory with the notch in the glass. "It's this one," she said softly, reaching in and rummaging until she felt the small velvet sack that once held some of this personal items. "I figured it was one that you actually marked, so.."

She trailed off and shrugged as she pulled it out and handed it to him. He looked down at the sack, then to Hermione as if realizing she was there for the first time. He stared at her, silent, before gently pulling the drawstring open and reaching inside.

His long fingers held the vial for a moment, tracing over it until he felt the notch. She watched him, feeling sorrow and sadness for him. He'd been through more than she could fathom. She had been feeling so sorry for herself, weeping over the things that had happened--and he was far worse off than she'd ever be.

Snape didn't look at her again. He simply tipped the opened vial over the Pensieve and went about his business as he watched the memory. Hermione's throat was tight, knowing that what he was seeing must have been hard. She wondered how she would feel if she watched a memory of she and Ron? The thought alone made her take a deep, shaky breath.

She sat there, on the floor, waiting patiently. Part of her wanted to be there in case he was upset, in case he needed someone to talk to. That thought was a touch absurd, as she couldn't imagine Severus Snape ever needing to talk to anyone. And yet, she also had the slightest hope that she could ask him more questions about that particular memory.

It intrigued her, it made her want to know more.

When he finally pulled back, his expression was striking. He looked, for that moment, like her old Potions professor; lips pursed, brow raised, a look of sneering disdain on his face. He moved fluidly as he used his wand to pull the memory back up into the vial, not speaking to Hermione or even acknowledging her. With ease and a much more calm, calculating demeanor, he slipped the vial into the pouch and finally looked to her with a sneer.

"You're still here?" he asked, voice annoyed. "Your work here is done, Miss Granger."

He stood and strode to his front door, pulling it open to gesture for her to leave. It was obvious that he was quite tired of her company.

Hermione stood and followed, a look of confusion on her face. He had been unlike himself before, yes, but he had at least been somewhat pleasant! Now he was acting just as he always had! She frowned and turned to give him one last word in parting as she stood on his front step.

"You're--"

The door slammed in her face, leaving her staring at worn, old wood angrily.

"--welcome."