Hating Hagrid

Disclaimer: All recognisable Harry Potter characters, settings, situations etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this work, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter two: Hating Hagrid

Severus found himself lying on his back on the cold, hard ground, looking up at a dark sky filled with bright stars. The air was clear and cool and permeated with the smell of the damp earth.

He heard himself groan as he gathered enough strength to stagger to his feet. He was feeling stiff and sluggish, still weak and nauseated, after the ordeal in the Shrieking Shack. Uncertain where he was, he looked around and found himself standing between the Forbidden Forest and the borders of Hogwarts grounds. Everything was silent and had a deserted feeling to it. The eerie silence worried him and he reached for his wand, only to realise that he didn't have it anymore. As daunting as that was, he would have to make do without it.

He started to brush the dirt and leaves from his robes while considering his options. He could simply vanish, and try to build a new existence somewhere else, or he could try to find out what had happened: two possibilities and in reality no choice at all. He hadn't come this far to give up. He was going into the castle. If the Dark Lord had won the war, Severus would terminate Bellatrix – or whomever the Death Eater sitting in the Headmaster's office was – then he would attempt to find and contact the surviving members of the Order.

It didn't escape him that his decision was very much the same as a certain boy would have made, and Severus could only hope that, at the very least, he would manage to do this with a little more caution and a lot more discretion than Potter usually demonstrated. Escaping from Gringott's on one of their dragons, indeed. Not even Albus could have staged anything so flamboyant. Severus snorted at the thought.

He found himself hoping that Bellatrix had indeed become the Headmistress. He liked the thought of using his bare hands to kill her. The way a Muggle might kill. He didn't think she would appreciate it, or even see the poetic justice in it, but on the other hand he didn't intend to leave her any time for philosophical reflection, either. He wanted her dead and he didn't care whether or not she knew that he was her killer.

He turned and looked up at the castle. Everything seemed calm enough; the fight was obviously over. The building was damaged in several places, but it looked like some extensive repair work had been done already. Spirals from the magical repairs wrapped the castle towers in a haze of silvery dust that reflected the moonlight.

The surrounding grounds, pitted with holes, were charred in several places. The destruction had been devastating, but work was obviously progressing. The battle must have ended some time ago, Severus deduced, since grass had started to grow even in the places where the ground had burned.

He turned to look towards the lake where the white marble tomb that was Dumbledore's last resting place glowed in the darkness. From this distance he couldn't discern if it was still broken, but it was promising that it was still there. If Death Eaters had been in residence, Dumbledore's grave would, without a doubt, have been the first thing obliterated.

His gaze returned to the castle. It appeared that Potter had won, but Severus needed to be sure. There were also his former colleagues to consider; if they were still at the school, they posed a very real threat. Meeting Filius or Minerva by accident wasn't at all appealing, since both of them were very apt at duelling and neither one of them would hesitate, even for a fraction of a second, to inflict serious damage on a perceived threat. Caution was required when entering Hogwarts, especially considering that he had lost his wand in the chaos of the Shrieking Shack.

The biggest question, however, was how Potter had managed his victory, if he had indeed won. Severus hadn't succeeded in giving him the necessary information, after all. Knowing Potter, the boy had probably placed himself in harm's way and got himself killed by the Dark Lord, and thus inadvertently won.

Moving stealthily, Severus advanced towards the castle, when heavy footsteps suddenly closed in on him, and a moment later he found himself hanging by the scruff of the neck, dangling above the ground, staring into the hairy face of Hagrid.

"We've had enough o' the likes o' yeh!"

They were now nose to nose, and then Hagrid hesitated.

"Who are yeh, anyway? Yeh look familiar."

Hagrid narrowed his eyes, now looking bewildered. "Yeh look like some'un ... " His voice trailed off into nothing, before he added, "Yeh look a bit like Professor Snape." And then Hagrid was back to roaring at Severus again. "We've had enough trick'ry from the likes o' yeh! I'm takin' yeh to the headmistress!" He shook Severus, not unlike a dog reprimanding a disobedient puppy, and then strode towards the castle doors, dragging Severus along in his wake.

Severus was furious over the way Hagrid was manhandling him. The fact that he, through the years, had stood by, smirking, while an assorted collection of students had been

treated the exact same way – among them the Weasley twins – did nothing to improve his temper.

"Hagrid, I am Severus Snape. Put me down so I might at least attempt an explanation."

Hagrid threw Severus a quick, threatening look.

"Yeh messed up the potion, yeh did," Hagrid said and continued walking. Severus's boots were dragging the ground, and even if he scrambled to get a foothold, it turned out to be impossible.

"What are you talking about?" Severus said, half choked by Hagrid's firm grip.

"The Polyjuice Potion, o' course. Yeh think yeh'd do a better job, bein' dark wizards an' all," Hagrid said. "Yeh look like a kid, yeh do. I don' know wha' yeh lot did wrong, but yeh look much too young to be Professor Snape," Hagrid said. "But yeh could'a been him 20 years or so ago, I give yeh tha'."

"I am Severus Snape, and if you do not let me down I will – " His rant was interrupted by several firm and rather painful shakes that made his teeth rattle.

"Yeh'll behave now. " Hagrid said, and his continuous shaking made Severus realise that the best course of action would be to keep quiet for the time being. He just hoped that the headmistress, whoever that might be, was more receptive to his explanations.

Being caught by Hagrid was, in its own way, good news. At least he now knew for certain he wouldn't find any Death Eaters at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

***

Hagrid gave the gargoyle the password. The gargoyle slid aside, and the staircase brought them up to the Headmistress's office. Hagrid knocked, but as there was no answer, he opened the door, stuck his enormous head into the office and called out, "Headmistress McGonagall? I've got a bit o' trouble here ..." With another firm shake and a stern, "Now, yeh behave!" he gave Severus a hard shove that sent him stumbling into the office and followed him inside.

The room seemed devoid of human life, the only living creature being a tabby cat sleeping in front of the hearth. A fire warmed the room, the flickering lights adding to the pleasant atmosphere. Ignoring Hagrid, Severus approached the cat, carefully reaching out his hand to touch it.

"Minerva?" Severus said, careful not to scare her.

He wasn't careful enough. The cat woke with a start and, with a screeching meow, she sank her claws into his hand. Severus was very impressed with the speed with which his old colleague transfigured back into her human self. She was holding him at wand-point within a fraction of a second and, even worse, Hagrid was once again dangling him by the scruff of his neck a foot off the ground.

Trapped in Hagrid's grasp, Severus grimaced while rubbing his bleeding hand. "Minerva, while I knew that my arrival might be less than welcome, I did not expect you to scratch me. Quite unladylike of you," he said. "Perhaps you'll at least afford me the opportunity to explain my actions? If you would tell Hagrid to let me down."

Minerva was staring at him. "Who are you?" she said, voice hard. She was aiming her wand at the middle of his chest, while giving him an assessing look.

"Minerva." Severus closed his eyes. He had hoped Minerva would accept him looking like his younger self. "You don't recognise me at all, do you?"

"Recognise you?"

Minerva's voice was shrill. "I can see who you are trying to impersonate. Who are you, and why are you here?" she said, stepping closer, and pushing the point of her wand under his chin, forcing his head up.

Still in Hagrid's firm grip, Severus raised his hands, palms out, and tried again. "If you would order Hagrid to put me down, I might be able to explain," he said, keeping his voice low and level.

"Hagrid, put him down." Minerva's voice was even colder now, and she didn't take her eyes off him, even for a second.

"Are yeh sure?"

Hagrid hesitated. "What if he's a Death Eater in disguise?"

"I'm sure. I am still more than competent with my wand and I suspect he's bright enough to know I'll hex him where he stands if he attempts anything. I fail to see how he could do much harm."

She stepped back and removed her wand from underneath Severus's chin. With a nod, Hagrid obeyed. "Thank you," said Minerva.

Hagrid frowned, looking worried.

"Are yeh sure?" he repeated.

"Quite sure. No need to worry," said Minerva.

Hearing that, Hagrid gave Minerva a troubled look, and Severus a threatening one, before nodding and leaving.

"Sit down," she said as the door fell shut.

Then she walked straight at Severus, jabbing her wand into his chest. A small spiral of smoke rose from Severus's robe where the point of Minerva's wand was lodged. The pain was severe enough to make him realise that he was on the verge of getting a burn mark on his chest.

In this way, she backed him into an armchair where he hurriedly sat down and started to tell his story.

***

"Your story is unbelievable, to say the least." Minerva's lips were pursed, and her hesitance to believe him was evident. She was seated opposite Severus in a straight-backed chair, and even though she had laid her arms on the armrests, her wand was still pointing straight at Severus. Surprisingly, she was looking wistful, even sad, and she did seem willing to listen.

Step one was to prove who he was. Step two would be harder. Convincing her that he wasn't the traitor everyone supposed him to be would be challenging and, most likely, he would be forced to turn over some of his memories. Returning Minerva's direct gaze, Severus leaned back in the comfortable armchair where he was seated, and crossed his legs. She didn't believe him, and proving his identity wouldn't be all that easy without Legilimency. At this point, exhausted as he was, he didn't care to allow anyone into his head.

"Very well," he said after a long pause. "You bought Potter his Nimbus 2000, his first year. I still view that as cheating."

He smiled at her, keeping his lips firmly closed when he did it. "Cheating on two accounts, no less. You bought the broom, and you got him on the team his first year, contrary to the school rules." Severus examined the nails of his left hand. "I could have used Draco that year, you know," he added with a shrug.

"Are you, of all people, accusing me of cheating? I talked to the headmaster ... I ... I ... you ...", Minerva was almost incoherent and red blotches were erupting on her neck and cheeks.

Severus curled his upper lip, just to annoy her a bit more. "Albus was biased, and you know it," he said. "I didn't realise you would be this easy to convince, though. Surprising. I always knew you to err on the safe side of caution."

Minerva straightened in her chair and pressed her lips together. "I'm in no way convinced. Pray continue." Her wand arm had risen and was no longer in contact with the armrest of her chair.

"Duelling club," he said and snorted with disdain, refusing to respond to Minerva's threat. "Not even Filius was willing to embarrass himself by being Lockhart's partner, but the only thing that saved him from such a distasteful endeavour was the fact that I owed him a favour. I also wanted an opportunity to hurt Lockhart ... preferably, a lot." Minerva's mouth twitched, as if on the verge of smiling, and her wand sank.

"I also happen to know that you were at the back of the room when I blew Lockhart off the stage. You enjoyed my performance, didn't you?"

He looked at Minerva as her expression went from amusement to obvious embarrassment. "However, I will not divulge that little bit of information to anyone, since you and I were in agreement as far as Lockhart was concerned."

"I also know that Hermione Granger, aided by you, got permission to use a Time-Turner in her third year. She worked herself into utter misery, didn't she?"

Minerva, was now developing a deep blush. "That was a bit of a mistake on my part," she said, looking pained at the memory. "The girl was so convincing and ... "

"Eventually, the strain got to her," he interrupted, "and she more or less told Trelawny to go to the devil, didn't she?"

He smiled at the memory of Trewlany's indignation when she had complained about Miss Granger. "I almost forgave her for being friends with Potter when I heard."

"I am also willing to wager that the Time-Turner was somehow connected to the escape of one Sirius Black and that hippogriff." Severus threw a malicious look at Minerva. "That cost me an Order of Merlin, Second Class, perhaps even First Class."

Glaring at him, Minerva cut him off, making a dismissive gesture with her wand.

"Do stop it. If I had Severus Snape here in front of me, I would tell him that coveting such a silly token was beneath him. I would also inform him that he now has an Order of Merlin, First Class, albeit posthumously." 

He sat, still as a statue realising he still didn't know when it was.

"It was the second of May – the day of The Battle of Hogwarts. What is today's date? Bellatrix claimed she would send me into the halls of Hogwarts. She failed. She also intended to send me into the future. Did she succeed with that objective?" he said.

Minerva looked at him, eyes narrowed, hesitant to answer, but then she gave him a curt nod and answered, "Today is August the twenty-ninth, 1998."

Hearing her answer, he couldn't help himself; he needed to know, and he was, for once, incapable of hiding it.

"What happened during the Battle?" Severus said, his body moving forward in the armchair – an involuntary movement that made him feel ashamed of himself. He could hear how eager, even greedy for information he sounded. He hated that he was giving away how uncertain he was. It was also a tactical mistake.

Minerva's face turned stony and he could see something in it very close to triumph. Her grey eyes bored into his. "I will not tell you anything, unless I am convinced that you are Severus Snape," she said, the words clipped, and her wand was again ascending.

The miserable old crone. He was exhausted and he was developing a headache. The effects of everything he had been exposed to were weighing him down, and now – now Minerva was being Minerva: stubborn, imperious, and so very single-minded. He wanted to hex her, hurt her, and make her suffer, for not believing. He wanted his wand back, so he could meet her as an equal. He hadn't been Bellatrix's equal in the Shrieking Shack, and in a way he felt just as exposed here, with Minerva.

He bit down on his cheek, as hard as he could, to counteract the painful headache and the descending misery. When he finally felt the metallic taste of blood, he continued.

"Mad-Eye," he said, keeping his voice level while he watched her.

Severus didn't have to use Legilimency to see that Minerva hadn't expected Mad-Eye's name to come up. He found that very satisfying. It was a rare treat indeed, to have her really, truly off balance.

"Mad-Eye was special to you, wasn't he? If I had turned Potter into, let's say, a terrier – the only creature in the animal kingdom as annoying and tenacious as the boy himself – and bounced him around the school yard, there would have been hell to pay, Minerva. You would have made it your personal business to get back at me." He enjoyed seeing Minerva's cheeks burn, her discomfort obvious.

"What did you do to Mad-Eye when he turned Malfoy into the amazing, bouncing ferret, as one Mr Ronald Weasley very succinctly put it? I will tell you: you did nothing. After the tournament, when you nursed the real Moody back to health, I became sure that you cared for him. You cared for him quite a lot. Taking his scars, whirling eye, paranoia and all into account, that really gives us other ugly bastards hope of finding love," Severus added, his voice acidic.

Minerva's wand arm was now resting peacefully on the armrest of her chair.

"And then the Ministry sent us Umbridge. A low blow even for them. She administered Veritaserum to the children, but you knew that already, didn't you? I actually ran out of stock."

He was leaning forward in annoyance. "Know this – if she ever enters Hogwarts again, I will show her exactly what a Potions master administers to his victims if he is in a bad enough mood, and it will not be anything as benign as Veritaserum, I assure you."

Severus closed his eyes and leaned his head back in the chair. His temples were pounding and the nausea was increasing. A migraine was coming on. This time he had to force himself to continue.

"Teaching Potter Legilimency – that, Minerva, was a dreadful experience indeed," he said, voice hoarse with pain and fatigue. "Did you know I hid some of my own memories in that Pensieve?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut even harder than before. "I hid them for both my sake and his, no matter what you might think. I didn't want him to witness some of my more humiliating, frightening and damaging memories, on the off chance that the boy could get into my head."

He opened his eyes again, looked at Minerva and added, "His father was not at his best in one of those particular memories." Severus paused. "Not that he ever was," he said in resignation. "There was a disturbance outside my quarters, and as soon as I left to see what was going on, Potter dived straight into the Pensieve, the nosy brat. I found him there when I came back. When I pulled him up, he had discovered that his father was not the saint he thought him to be."

Minerva was looking straight at him, and he knew she was starting to believe. Her wand was now drooping, pointing at his leg rather than his midriff or face.

Then her eyes narrowed again.

"And what about your year as headmaster?" said Minerva. He could see the fury in her eyes and for a fleeting moment she looked just as vindictive as Bellatrix had in the Shrieking Shack.

Severus wasn't interested in recalling the past year. It had been a long, bitter journey through horror, misery and death. All his energy had been spent keeping his promise to Dumbledore, trying to protect the idiot students of Hogwarts, and walking on eggshells around the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. He closed his eyes, only to open them again, trying to avoid the memory of the battered and bruised children that the Carrows had dragged into the Headmaster's office after punishing them. Expecting him to praise them, expecting him to enjoy it, expecting him to give them his support with the Dark Lord.

"The Carrows. I don't think Hagrid ever understood. Neither did you. I thought you both would realise eventually," said Severus. "They were terrified of him. Mixed blood. Giant. And a wizard, no less. I was able to keep him on staff by telling the most horrendous lies about how he treated the students. It ... appealed to their tastes," he said and looked away.

"When the Carrows became too vicious in their punishments, I sent the students to Hagrid instead. I knew he would help them, if for nothing else, just to spite me." He smiled a self-deprecating smile, looking at Minerva again. "Longbottom would have ended up like his parents, if I hadn't had the option of sending him to Hagrid. You know that, too, Minerva, don't you?"

Minerva was almost persuaded now, he could see it. Then she hesitated, and slipped right through his fingers.

"You are convincing," Minerva said, her voice almost pitying, "but it is not enough. "

Severus closed his eyes, and shook his head in dismay. He didn't want to do this anymore. He was tired, he was worn out, and he wanted none of it. He silently cursed Bellatrix. That sadistic, vicious bitch. Why hadn't she just ended him. He was supposed to die in the war, one way or the other. He wasn't supposed to be forced to live on, in the miserable half-life that was his, and he didn't want to either. He was supposed to be free by now.

The silence stretched between them. Then he remembered, and decided to make a last attempt, the very last one. If this didn't work, he would do something drastic, and force Minerva to act so he would finally get to rest.

"Minerva, do you remember my Sorting?" Severus said, his voice gruff and tired. "My first day at Hogwarts?"

He looked down at his hands and let his hair fall forwards to cover his face.

Since Lily's death, this was a memory he had pushed away, a memory that always triggered unwelcome reflections of what might have been. It made him consider choices already made, something he avoided since they were useless to dwell upon.

"Do you remember what you whispered to me when you gave me the hat?" he said, and then looked up, through the tangles of his hair: he could see that it was filthy and matted with blood. "I hope you will join my house," he quoted her, and then looked down again.

"It is you," Minerva said, her voice an incredulous whisper and then she was standing in front of him, wand lowered, "It is you. It really is you." She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. "I am so, so sorry, Severus. I should have known."

Severus rose from his seat and held up his hand to stop her. "I did everything I could to make you think what you did." He didn't succeed in keeping the bitterness from his voice.

Minerva's eyes were filled with tears. "I duelled you," she said, fumbling in one of her pockets and pulling up a handkerchief.

Severus bared his teeth in an attempt to smile, he suspected it came out as a grimace; he didn't know. "Actually, you are the only person who has ever bested me in a duel. You had an unfair advantage, though. You fought to kill, and I couldn't do that, could I?"

Minerva started to sob. Hard, dry sobs that seemed to get stuck halfway out. Then she did the unthinkable – she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce embrace.