Chapter Two

HERMIONE

I know he suspected that I knew, and that I was covering up for him, and I knew he knew that I'd tell Dumbledore if we could reach him. Over the last couple of years we'd come to that sort of quiet accommodation of one another. I couldn't tell Harry, and I certainly couldn't tell Ron; both of them were likely to freak out. I waited until the two of them had gone out before I turned to him. His attitude when I asked him to sit down with me, the way he cast a fleeting look to Sirius, everything about him told me it was true.

'Is there any way I can help?' I braced myself for his scorn.

'I thought you knew,' he said quietly in resignation instead.

I took one of his cold slim white hands between mine; he didn't resist. I desperately wanted him to know that I was there for him, and even if I didn't understand or approve, I was there. 'When did he die?' I whispered.

'Yesterday ... when you were out.'

I watched him, trying to fathom out the enormity of what he had done. 'I've told Dumbledore,' I said. 'I suspected he was already dead yesterday, looks like I pre-empted it a bit. If Hedwig gets through, he'll know by now.' He just nodded in acceptance, and I went on. 'Does ... does he know?'

'Of course, I know. It's very bad form to speak of the dead when they're listening.' Sirius had opened his eyes.

'In that case the dead should learn not to eavesdrop on private conversations,' Snape said dryly to him. He sounded a little more like himself, and he drew his hand away from mine. 'Let us hope, Miss Granger, that Potter's owl gets to Dumbledore, and that he can get us back to Hogwarts ... very soon.'

'But ... what about you? What if anyone finds out?' I knew whatever he'd done was very Dark Magic and would carry a heavy price tag.

'I suspect I shall be looking for alternative gainful employment, in another continent.' He let his eyebrow rise in the way he used to, just before deducting fifty points from Gryffindor; that gave me a little hope.

'But how do we get him back?'

'I have not worked that out yet.' He gave me as near to a real smile as I'd ever seen from him. 'If that brain of yours comes up with any solution,' he said, 'be assured that I shall look favourably upon the suggestion.'

'You can't leave here can you? Not without him, or both of you will die.'

'Hermione,' Sirius said, in a way that I found very disconcerting, 'one of us is already dead.'

*****

HARRY

'How's he doing?' Ron asked as we swapped over guard duty; it hardly seemed necessary now but I didn't feel like taking any chances.

'Not bad. If anything it's Snape who doesn't look well.'

'You can tell?' He gave me a smirk.

I knew what he meant; Snape's pallor and testiness were so much his trademarks that it was difficult to know whether he was ill or not ... but something was wrong; I knew that. I couldn't remember when I'd seen him even stand for the last few days, that, coupled with the fact that Hermione seemed constantly to cast worried looks at him, made me very uneasy. I began to wish that Hedwig would get back very soon; something I didn't understand was happening. Oh, I know I could have asked, but I wasn't awfully sure I wanted to know what it was.

We'd been in the shelter for almost ten days, and the last three it had rained incessantly. No matter how hard we tried, Ron, Hermione and I found ourselves bringing water in with us, on our cloaks and boots, adding to the drips that managed to find their way through the thick screening of fir we'd used as a roof. Hermione had almost given up on sealing spells; it was as though the rain didn't much care for her dominion over it. The atmosphere was so tense that I knew Ron hadn't even had the heart to point out her magical inadequacy; I suspect he might have filed it away for future reference though.

Hedwig had been away for three days and I was fretting, not only about our situation, but for her safety too. I was only going to give it another day before I took the step I had been forbidden to take until told it was safe, that of Apparating to Hogsmeade; it was either that or walk. When Dumbledore Apparated to us that afternoon I could have fainted with relief. This last couple of days it had become that we were all too scared to even look at one another, in case someone asked a question no one seemed to want an answer to. Only Sirius seemed bright, and yet, there was something about him that didn't feel right. He didn't really look at anyone, anyone except Snape, and sometimes he just sat looking into space. It was a little creepy, as though his mind were somewhere else ... something was scaring the living shit out of me and I couldn't think what it was.

Remus and Bill Weasley followed immediately after Dumbledore. I couldn't understand it; none of them gave much more than a fleeting glance to Sirius, except for Lupin, and he just stared at him for a few long moments without saying anything. I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise as Dumbledore looked gravely at Snape.

'Severus ... what have you done?' he said in what I could only describe as shock. 'This ... this is not permitted.'

Snape held his eyes; he looked frighteningly intense. 'Permitted? After what we have done over the past two years to survive, who is to say what is permitted?' He stood in the middle of the shelter as though he'd placed himself between Sirius and the others, in an unconscious act of defence. It was Bill Weasley who went to him; he put an arm around his shoulders, talking quietly and urgently to him. My brain was watching something unfold, which it couldn't comprehend.

'What's wrong? What's he done? He was only helping Sirius.' I looked to my godfather, as some level of me began to understand the inexplicable. 'Tell them, Sirius; please tell them.' I knew my voice whined as I watched him sitting there looking slightly away from ... from everything. He turned his head slowly to look at Snape as though he hadn't even noticed the newcomers.

'He can't, Harry.' Hermione had begun to cry, I suspect in relief that she could now say it. 'He's been dead for days.'

'What?' Ron jumped back; he looked stricken with the shock I felt. 'We've been talking to a corpse? What do you mean?'

'No ... you've been talking to him, but only through Severus. I'm not sure I completely understand.' She turned away and Lupin hugged her. I wished it had been me; I could have done with a hug about then.

I turned to Dumbledore, I suppose looking for the hope he always inspired in me. 'What's going to happen? I mean he's kept Sirius alive. That's got to be good. We can help him now ... at Hogwarts, can't we?'

'I do not know what will happen, Harry.' He gave a look to where Snape had sat against the back wall with Sirius again. Sirius was talking to him; I heard him laugh and watched him grin, it was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen. Bill and Remus watched on, their faces pitying masks of concern, as I began to realise another thing; Severus Snape wasn't completely sane. Dumbledore dragged his gaze away from them. 'Severus will stand trial if he is deemed fit...'

'Trial? For what?' I exploded in my confusion. 'For keeping someone alive?'

'No, Harry, for not letting them go once they have died. It is a grievous crime against nature and involves deepest Dark Magic.' He nodded slowly and I could see he was struggling to come to terms with things himself. 'As for Sirius ... Sirius has been dead for some time, about three or four days I suspect ... and once Severus moves from his side he will slip away, as is fitting.'

'No ... he can stay with him; that must be what he wants anyway,' I shouted my denial.

'What Severus wants is not the issue. We are not here to deny the wishes of Mother Nature; we are neither the Creator nor the Grim Reaper, we only have a say in the bit in between.' Dumbledore turned to Snape. 'Severus, we must go now, my boy,' he said, gently but firmly, 'back to Hogwarts.'

Snape closed his eyes, and when he opened them he'd brought a cold shutter down on his feelings. 'And what, may I be permitted to ask, is going to happen to Black?'

Dumbledore nodded to Bill Weasley. 'Bill will travel with you both. Remus, you will go with Ron and Harry ... and you, Hermione, you will come with me. I need to speak with you, my dear.'

Snape nodded his acceptance as I stood at the doorway, staggered at the extent of what had happened in front of our eyes ... and we hadn't even noticed, except Hermione, of course.

*****

DUMBLEDORE

I stoked Fawkes as I waited for Kingsley to arrive; all the time my heart begged one thing while my brain pulled rank with another. I had permitted Severus to stay with Sirius's body in the Infirmary last night and maintain whatever status quo he had reached, as long as someone else was with them at all times. Bill and Remus had no hesitation in volunteering. So far so good; it was kept amongst the few of us who had been present in the shelter.

I knew that with the potions and Dark Magic and help from other wizards that he could get here that Severus could indeed keep Sirius alive, and in fact restore him to himself. He had done the hard bit; he had closed death's door. In fact it was more than that; he actually held Sirius's death inside him, a concept even I struggled to understand. I knew he was certainly powerful enough and knowledgeable enough in the Dark Arts to do the rest.

I had been so tempted to just allow it to happen; what was one little dabble in the Dark Arts, after all? My head overruled that; it was the road to ruin, probably every Dark Wizard since time immemorial had said the same thing at one time. And yet, that wasn't really what stopped me. I knew that Severus Snape was no more likely to become another Voldemort than I was; it was his sanity and his future I feared for. I knew he had kept Sirius alive out of some deep love for him, even as I knew that if Sirius were indeed returned that it could well be that he had no such reciprocal feelings for Severus ... where, I wondered, would that leave us?

I was a deeply troubled man as the Minister walked in.

'You're fully up to date with what has happened, Kingsley?'

He nodded, and his earring glinted, giving him a cavalier look. I suspected it would take a while for the more staid members of the Ministry to get used to him, so much the better, in my opinion. He seemed a lot more at ease than I was as he sat in front of my desk in his flamboyant red silks, and helped himself to a cup of my tea.

'There was always something between the two of them, wasn't there?' he said as an opener.

I nodded. 'I suppose so. Of course, I have asked you here to discuss what we do from now.'

'Do?' He seemed surprised. 'Do you have reason to suspect evil intent, Albus?'

'No, indeed not. I have many concerns, but that is not one of them.'

'Well, what's one little dabble in the Dark Arts? He's as likely to become another Voldemort as you are, Albus.'

His brown eyes were laughing at me. I hadn't known that Kingsley Shacklebolt was such a skilled Legilimens.

He let his smile fade, and I realised he had been thinking as deeply as I had, but unlike me he had at least come to a decision. The fact that he had travelled to Hogwarts alone made me at least grateful that he wasn't going to drag Severus off in chains today.

'How many others know?' I asked, searching for an opening of my own.

'Very few,' he said. He steepled his long black fingers and seemed to be arranging his thoughts, as though he had placed them in his mind in a certain order and it would only do if they were explained in that same order. 'I spent all of last night wrestling with, not only my conscience, but also what I suspect would be representative of the conscience of the decent world as a whole.'

I felt better already; whatever decision he had come to, had been made with the compassion and clear-headedness that had made him what would be the finest Minister of Magic we had ever had. 'And have you come to a assessment of the situation?' I asked.

'I need your help, Albus. I need to know I am not romanticising this.' He waited for my nod and went on, sipping at his tea as he did so. 'The Wizengamot is there to ensure that justice is meted out and that laws are adhered to for the greater good of wizardkind. And it is this word, justice, that I have laboured on. The word justice ... righteousness, fair dealing, whatever you want to call it, is the essence of my argument,' he said, and I felt him gauging my reaction. 'What do we gain by trying this man? Do we live in a better world if we put him away in Azkaban? Are our children safer in their beds, or our consciences more at rest? Or have we merely bound ourselves by convention, because our way of doing things was not strong enough, and in so doing leave tomorrow a poorer place by making a hero, two heroes in fact, the scapegoats of our own inadequacies?'

He was romanticising, of course he knew that; he was justifying himself and his own conscience. I had neither the need nor the desire to let him know that I knew that, but I found myself misquoting ancient text to him, for devilment, I suppose. 'Why should it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul?'

Kingsley smiled; he knew we had already avoided an impasse. 'And why should a man lose the whole world just because he has profited a soul?'

We hadn't made him Minister of Magic for fun.

We talked on for a while. Kingsley had arranged for the legal assessors from St Mungo's to come to Hogwarts, those two old men who dispensed their opinions on the delicate balance between evil intent and temporary insanity; I suspected he had already arranged their verdict too. He had come here on the pretext of telling me that Severus would probably not stand trial, and to have me back up his judgement if it ever became necessary, but we both knew he had really come to set my own conscience free to do as it truly saw fit, in the knowledge that he would back me ... if it ever became necessary.

*****