Conspiracy Theories

A soft, tentative knock on the door jolted Severus out of his musings. Malfoy, Goyle and Zabini were standing there, faces hidden by their cloaks. Behind them stood at least a dozen other students, most of whom, Severus was dismayed to notice, were in the fifth and sixth years.

'Malfoy, what are you playing at? It is four o'clock in the morning!' Opening the door a little wider, he sighed resignedly. 'You had better come in. All of you. Hurry up.'

The students stumbled into Severus' office, cloaks pulled up around their faces as if they thought that could disguise them.

'Oh, well done,' Severus sneered, looking them up and down. 'This is your romantic idea of how spies and conspirators dress is it? You do realise that you will not be able to skulk around tomorrow? We will have to smile and pretend nothing is amiss or we will be detected instantly.'

He stopped abruptly. He had just realised what he had said. He had just committed himself to the plan. Well, he had known what Malfoy wanted him to do when they talked this afternoon. He had known when he got up an hour ago, that he was going to agree to it – it was just that he had only now admitted it to himself.

Draco was delighted. He had thought he would have to talk Snape round again, but the professor seemed to have done that himself.

'Draco, a word.' Severus took hold of Malfoy's arm and steered him, forcefully to the other end of the office. He gestured to the fifth and sixth years. 'You expect me to work with children?'

'I expect you to work with whoever I provide seeing as I've done the recruiting.'

Severus' eyes narrowed. 'May I remind you, Mister Malfoy,' he spat, 'that while you may be overage, for one more term I am your teacher, and you will show me some respect. Without me to give your plan some credibility, you and your little friends will find yourselves heading straight for Azkaban.'

Draco looked suitably chastened. 'They'll help us, sir. All their families are in Azkaban. Despard Mulciber's brother was expelled by Dolores Umbridge, sir. I thought we could use him as an excuse to see the Headmaster tomorrow... you know... ask for Ruthven's expulsion to be overturned at the feast.'

'We should swear an Unbreakable Vow, sir,' suggested Goyle. 'So none of us can back out.'

Severus' expression darkened. 'Do not be ridiculous, Goyle. You have no idea of what such a vow entails. If any one of you is insufficiently committed to this enterprise, then leave now. Only those who cannot be trusted need swear vows. Our motives are for the best and I, for one, need no other incentive.'

'Are we only going for Dumbledore, sir?' asked Zabini. 'What about Harry Potter?'

'Good idea, Blaise,' Malfoy agreed. 'Get rid of Dumbledore's pet at the same time. He might be dangerous otherwise – got ideas above his station after his triumph last year.'

'No,' Severus said sharply. 'We will have enough blood on our hands, Malfoy; I will not take part in a bloodbath. Believe me, I take no pleasure in this. We are doing this for the good of the community, not for revenge. Killing The Chosen One will hardly be considered compatible with that. Besides, Potter is just Dumbledore's henchman. He will be no use to anyone once Dumbledore is gone.'

Malfoy didn't look convinced, but knew better than to start another argument with his Head of House. 'Tomorrow then, sir. We'll meet just before the feast and go to the Great Hall to ask Dumbledore to pardon Ruthven Mulciber.'

Severus nodded. 'Go now, all of you. The last thing we need is for you to be caught out of bed tonight.' As a precautionary measure, he performed Disillusionment Charms on all of them before ushering them out of his office and breathing a sigh of relief.

A creak of wood behind him caused him to turn round sharply.

The door to his living-quarters had opened to reveal his wife, Alina, looking pale and scared in the candlelight.

Alina had come back to Hogwarts four years ago as a research student. As her main subject was Potions, she had been assigned as assistant to Professor Snape. Unlike most people here, she had the same wry sense of humour as him. This, coupled with a far calmer, less volatile temperament than his, had enabled her, gradually, to become his confidant, but never anything more.

She had been astounded therefore, when, immediately after the final battle, he had suggested they get married. He had said it was time he made a decent woman of her, that the students (and probably some of the teachers) were gossiping. There was nothing to gossip about, but you couldn't convince teenagers of that. She had thought there was nothing more to it than an overdeveloped and slightly misguided sense of honour, but surprisingly he really did seem to care for her.

'Severus?'

'Alina! Go back to bed. You shouldn't be wandering around at this time of night.'

'Nor should you.' She shut the door behind her, crossed the room to him and put her arms around his neck. 'I'll go if you come back with me.'

He shook her off impatiently and went to sit at his desk.

'What's wrong with you, Severus? You were like this all yesterday; I couldn't get a word out of you, and now you won't let me near you.'

In fact, when she'd tackled him about his behaviour last night, he'd ignored her and eventually walked out on her. There had even been one heart-stopping moment when she'd thought he was going to hit her. She was well aware that her husband terrified the students, but he had never given her cause to be afraid of him. Of course he could be moody and taciturn, but she'd always been able to coax him out of his bad moods.

He had had secrets before; she'd known early on that he was doing some specialised work for the Order and had found out pretty quickly what, after the tragedy at the Triwizard Tournament. He had also, eventually, explained about Lily Evans, an explanation that had involved a highly uncomfortable trip into the Pensieve. She knew all that, and she'd accepted it, but she couldn't cope with the prospect of him shutting her out for days on end. Suddenly, she was hit by the overwhelming feeling that she did not recognise him at all.

'You're not normally like this with me, Severus. Please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong.'

He put his head in his hands. 'I am not well. That is all.'

She pulled up the chair opposite his desk, the one he normally reserved for misbehaving students on detention, and leaned over the desk towards him.

'I can't believe that, Severus. You're the Potions Master. If you were ill, you could heal yourself.'

He raised his head and glared at her. 'That is exactly what I am trying to do. Now leave me alone.'

'You're not ill, Severus. I know you. If you are ill, then you're ill with worry. I heard you talking to people in here just now. Who were they? If you tell me what's going on, I can help you.' She took his hands and pressed them to her lips, willing him to open up, to confide in her. 'Severus, I'm your wife. You can talk to me. It's my job to help you.'

He simply glared at her, and suddenly something inside her snapped. She was at the end of her tether with him, and she felt a childish urge to lash out, to hurt him as much as he was hurting her.

'Or am I just here to do what you want in bed? Is that why you married me? Well, if that's the case, you might as well have taken up with Bella or Cissy or any one of the Death Eaters' whores!'

He stood up abruptly, knocking the chair over with a resounding crash. 'Do not be vulgar, Alina. You are my wife, and I love you.'

It was a rebuke, not an endearment, but he said it so rarely that she decided to take it on face value and use it to her advantage.

'Confide in me then! I may not be as clever as you; I may not be a professor of anything, but you can trust me. You know you can. I've kept your secrets before.' She looked directly into his eyes. 'Severus. Please.'

He seemed to be fighting some sort of internal battle, but eventually he nodded curtly.

'All right. I will tell you everything.'

He put his arm around her and led her back to their rooms, hoping to Merlin he was doing the right thing.

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A/N There is no record of Umbridge expelling anyone. Nor of Mulciber having children, but I needed a Slytherin name for Umbridge's victims. Ruthven and Despard are the names of the evil Baronet brothers in Gilbert & Sullivan's 'Ruddigore'.