Tragedy Revealed and Avenged

Chapter Ten

Tragedy Revealed and Avenged

Snape turned away from the sight before him. Madam Pomfrey shifted aside, thinking he was going to leave the room. But he forced himself to stay. Something had to be done about this. At Dumbledore's words, he forced his eyes back to the hospital bed in which Malfoy lay, looking ridiculously like his name should be Coco, or some such thing.

"And you saw no wands at all?" Dumbledore was asking.

"No, but they've had lots of practice, haven't they? They could have hidden them by the time I realized I'd been hexed." Malfoy's voice was grating even at the best of times, but when he added that nauseating whine, it was all Snape could do to listen.

Dumbledore's eyes met Snape's, and nodded imperceptibly. It had been Tanya. There was no longer any doubt. Only Tanya could have done this without using a wand.

Madam Pomfrey had not been able to lift the charm that had turned Malfoy into a clown. She hadn't even been able to reduce it, and neither could the two visiting mediwizards imported for the occasion from St. Mungo's. Draco's skin was now milk-white, with his eyes and mouth an exaggerated red, with the pink, fuzzy hair and the huge comical feet. All the mirrors in the hospital wing had been removed, in case Malfoy might be provoked into hurting himself with broken shards of glass.

"Any word from Narcissa yet?" Snape asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, but she didn't seem too sympathetic. I had rather anticipated protest from Lucius, in spite of his outlaw status. After all, he's usually coming to rescue his son from one misfortune or another."

"Perhaps if it were something endangering his life, rather than his pride," Snape suggested.

"I'm more concerned at the motivation behind this, Severus," Dumbledore continued. "I feel perhaps there is a reason she chose this action, as opposed to something else."

"We may be reading too much into it, Headmaster," Snape suggested. "Perhaps this is just her way of telling Malfoy that she couldn't take him seriously. It wouldn't be surprising to find out that he was hurling the usual insults her way."

"We'll need to ask the three of them some questions, of course."

"Yes, Headmaster. I'll summon them immediately."

He turned to leave the hospital wing, heading for the Gryffindor Tower. He mentally checked a list of where Weasley, Potter, and Tanya might be at this time of day. He glanced at the clock tower, and decided that dinner must be ending right now, and changed his route to pass by the Great Hall.

He cut a path through the thronging students, searching over the heads of the crowd for the three. The doors leading into the Entry Hall were wide open, and students were heading in and out of them. He'd better take a quick look out there, knowing that Tanya wouldn't be inside if she had a choice.

His hunch was right on the mark, he noted with satisfaction, as he saw Tanya, Potter, Weasley, and Granger walking toward the hall. Judging from their casual clothing, they were just returning from Hagrid's cottage, where she liked to spend most of her time these days. How she had managed to talk the others into accompanying her, Snape didn't know, because he knew for a fact that the creatures Hagrid was currently breeding were something quite less than docile.

Before he could address them, there was a commotion outside the grounds about halfway between the forest and the main gate. A great ball of grey smoke, accompanied by a huge popping noise effectively cleared the grounds. Some students scrambled up to the Hall, causing something of a traffic jam near the top. Simultaneously, the great doors slammed shut, locking, and the sound of doors and windows slamming shut all around them could be heard above the frightened voices of the students caught outside.

A form was appearing in the middle of the grey smoke, and as some students scurried as far away as they could, and some more reckless students fought to get a better view of the smoke, the figure became clearer, more defined.

Snape felt a nasty sense of deja vu, half-expecting Voldemort himself to appear. But the figure didn't look like Voldemort. The hair wasn't black, but silver-white, and the clothing wasn't long, black, and flowing, like Voldemort's robes. As the purple robes became clearer, Snape realized with a start that it was Lucius. The one and only Lucius Malfoy, and he looked angry.

So, he comes to avenge his son, Snape thought snidely. At risk of being apprehended and returned to Azkaban, where the Dementors were once more back in force. As a matter of fact, they were even worse than before, seeming to need to show the Ministry that they were sorry for their temporary disloyalty. Apparently, Voldemort didn't deliver whatever he'd promised them for their services.

Lucius arrogantly strolled into the grounds, smiling snidely as Dumbledore joined the crowd gathered. Snape noticed Tanya circling for a close-up look, and he moved to stop her. She simply shook off his hand from her shoulder and continued on, Potter on her heels. At least Granger and Weasley had the sense to keep their distance.

Tanya continued pushing through the crowd until she was standing face-to-face with Lucius. He looked down his nose at her, sneering. "Ah yes, the little gypsy girl Draco's told me about. Charmed." So, Malfoy had indeed known how to contact his father.

"Do you not remember me, then," Tanya said, to Snape's surprise. When had they ever met?

Lucius must have had the same thought, peering more closely at Tanya. "And where would I remember you from?" he asked. "Surely we don't move in the same circles."

Tanya ignored the implied insult. "We met eight years ago. Let me refresh your memory." She turned quickly and made a graceful move of her arm. There was now a scene from a green hillside in place of the air above the Quidditch field. There were people on that hillside; some busy with chasing children, some were cooking beside a campfire, some were dancing.

"Do you recognize this campsite?" Tanya asked Lucius. "Do you recognize any of the faces, or did you never look at them?" Lucius didn't reply, a vacant expression on his face. Snape realized she must have rooted him to the spot somehow.

As they watched, the peaceful hillside began to change. It became darker somehow, although it was still obviously daytime in the scene. People were screaming now, running away. There were explosions, people falling down where they stood, some falling to their deaths, some falling to twitch and scream. Victims of Crucio, most likely.

There was a shift in the angle of the scenery, and the crowd on the grounds gasped as they saw Lucius Malfoy's face, it's traditional sneer in place, wand in hand, shouting out curses in every direction.

Another shift in angle, and a green light from Lucius' wand had cut a path through long grass, hitting and throwing aside a small girl. Snape's heart went to his throat as the girl picked herself up and faced her attacker. Tanya. A younger, more innocent Tanya, bleeding profusely from her neck, the blood saturating her clothing, choking her. Yet still she came toward where her attacker stood.

Snape locked his knees to keep from falling to the ground. He forced himself to continue watching.

"Do you remember any of it now? Do you dare to lie to me now? Can you convince me that you don't relish this memory even eight years afterward?" Tanya's voice was quiet, commanding. Snape had never heard this tone coming from her before.

Snape looked back up into the Tanya-fashioned film screen to see the little girl she once was coming forward to Lucius, seemingly unafraid and horribly enraged. Lucius, standing on the grounds of Hogwarts, made a move as if to flee, but Tanya was too quick for him. She raised her arms and sent something powerful out, powerful enough for Snape to feel its force as it swept past him on its way to Lucius.

Lucius was picked up to a height of about six feet from the ground, held there, bound by nothing anyone could see. "You were trying to earn points with Voldemort by destroying the gypsies!" she threw at him. "He had been destroyed, so everyone thought, but you were still looking to be his golden boy!"

She turned and waved to the scene in the sky. "Do you recognize anyone now? Do you see that face there?" There was a lovely young woman lying on the ground on the destroyed hillside, bleeding from a pole that had impaled itself into her chest. "My sister!" The scene shifted to an old man that had been crumpled to his death as if by a huge, invisible fist. "My Greatpapa!" She kept showing different bodies, different screaming victims, calling out her relationship to them.

Finally, the angle shifted once again to the little girl coming up the burned path toward the memory of Lucius. The girl raised her hand, and the green light that had been emitted from Lucius' wand headed straight for her. Snape tried to close his eyes; he didn't want to witness Tanya experiencing Crucio; but his eyes refused to close.

The girl blocked the green light with her hand, sending it directly back to Lucius. Lucius screamed, writhing in agony, looking as though 2000 volts of Muggle electricity were running through his body. The scene in the sky began to fade.

Now Snape remembered the three months that Lucius Malfoy had spent in St. Mungo's all those years ago, allegedly with no idea of what had happened to him.

He turned his attention to the view around him. Everyone stood riveted, looking to where Tanya and Lucius were facing each other, Lucius still hanging in the air, Tanya stopping before him.

Tanya lifted her hands, concentration creasing her forehead as she spoke quietly to Lucius. "Annullo cervico altera cervico tertius cervico quartus."

Snape watched, horror-filled, as Lucius screamed, the veins in his neck stretched out in agony. At the end of the seemingly-never-ending scream, Lucius fell silent, his body relaxed, but still being held by an unseen binding. He was slowly lowered to the ground and his limbs fell limply askew, as if the bindings had been removed.

For what seemed an eternity, no one moved; no one spoke. Snape looked at Tanya, and found her staring at Lucius, and he couldn't read the expression on her face. But the peace was shattered as Draco came around the side of the castle to where his father lay, broken and unconscious on the ground.

It would have been pitiful enough to see Draco screaming for his father, but since he looked so much like a clown, it was worse somehow to hear muffled laughter from the crowd around them. Dumbledore at last found his voice. He ordered the prefects to make sure everyone got back to their common rooms. His tone brooked no argument, and the sound of the great door at the Entrance Hall could be heard opening once again.

Tanya made no move to leave, so Dumbledore didn't bother telling her to stay. He waved Potter away, but the boy stood his ground, glaring at Dumbledore. The old man merely shrugged and turned his attention back to the suffering mass that was Draco. Professor McGonagall made to pull Draco away from his father, but he pulled away and threw himself down near his father's feet to wrap his arms around his legs and rock to and fro in his misery.

When the last of the students had entered the castle, Dumbledore looked down at Tanya, who had not moved from her position near Malfoy.

"Tanya," Dumbledore started, waiting for her to look at him. "What have you done to Mr. Malfoy?" His soft question invited her to answer honestly, which Snape was sure she would have, anyway.

"I pulverized a couple of small bones in his spine," she said without inflection. "He's paralyzed now from the neck down."

"Why? I must admit, if I knew you were going to throw a curse his way, I would have expected you to kill him."

She looked back at the inert bundle that was Malfoy. "I don't want him to die," she said simply. "I want him to be alive, to be able to think; I want him to feel the helplessness, the hopelessness he made me feel."

"But why paralyze him? Surely the mediwizards will be able to repair the damage you've done to him."

"You mean like they're able to remove the hex I put on Draco?" she asked maliciously.

That made Dumbledore stop to think. It was true; none of their attempts were able to lift the curse from the boy. He was still walking around looking like Bozo.

"You're telling me that we won't be able to lift this, aren't you? Either of these curses."

"Aye. Even I won't be able to reverse this one." She lightly pushed her foot against Malfoy's leg, watching it fall back into place limply.

Dumbledore sighed, closing his eyes as if in pain. When he opened his eyes, it appeared to Snape that he had aged twenty years in as many seconds. "Tanya, was this my mistake? Was this the sole purpose for your petition to enter Hogwarts?"

She finally looked up to meet his eyes. "No, Professor." Her eyes proved that she was being truthful. "I didn't know Malfoy had anything to do with Hogwarts until after I'd met his son."

Dumbledore considered her words, and coming to a decision, nodded thoughtfully. "The Ministry is going to send someone to investigate. I had sent for Cornelius as soon as I realized it was Lucius Apparating. I ask you to return to your room and keep yourself available to answer questions that will no doubt arise from this incident."

Tanya nodded, looking down at Malfoy Senior once again. Then she turned on her heel and headed back to the castle. After a brief moment of indecision, Potter followed her. Snape was still rooted to the spot, his mind backtracking over every conversation he'd ever had with Tanya. In no memory was there any indication that she was tracking down a wizard for revenge. So this was why she kept straying to Azkaban in her travels when she was supposed to be following Pettigrew. He never made the connection. Who would? She had been so secretive about the tragedy of her past.

Lucius was regaining consciousness. As his eyes registered where he was and who was surrounding him, Snape watched the different thoughts that must have been coursing through him and showed up in his eyes. Apparently, he'd discovered that he couldn't move his hands to grab his wand. Snape knew that Lucius' magical powers had never extended to the point where he wouldn't need his wand.

Since words wouldn't help him, there seemed no point in hanging around. Let Fudge deal with him. And his snotnosed son as well. Snape headed back to the dungeons. He needed quiet and solitude to process all he'd learned today.

*******************

Tanya walked up the stairs toward the Tower, not even acknowledging Harry's presence on the steps next to her. He left her to her own thoughts, because he was still trying to make sense out of what he'd seen. He'd recognized her from that vision, of course. She was the little girl that had taken a glancing blow from Malfoy's wand. He felt sick as he remembered all the blood, marveling that she could have lost so much of it and still keep walking.

It had come from her neck. All the blood had come from the injury at her throat. By now they had reached the top of the staircase, and Harry took her arm to stop her progress down the corridor. She stopped, looking at him as if she'd never seen him before.

His eyes strayed to her throat. No school robes in the way. She'd dressed this morning in a zip-up sweater, which displayed however much of herself she wanted to show. It was modestly zipped, but still, she'd needed the necklace to hide what Harry knew must be there.

Before she could stop him, he pulled hard at her necklace, breaking the fine chain and laying bare her throat. She gasped and lifted her hand to her neck in an oddly out-of-place femininity, but not before Harry saw the scar. The lightning bolt shaped scar right at the base of her throat. How had he never seen it before? How could she never have told him about this significant happening in her life?

When Harry thought of the times he'd mentioned how uncomfortable he was when people stared at his own scar, he was hurt that she never offered this information to him, if only to share his misery. He'd have done the same for her, wouldn't he? She'd allowed him to go on and on about this dark curse he'd survived, and how he hated the notoriety that went with it, but never mentioned that she, too, had that unique scar. She, too, had survived a dark curse. Was everything they'd shared a sham? Had she just been amusing herself with him? He had thought they'd achieved a closeness, an intimacy that invited secrets to be shared. Hadn't he told her of very painful memories he had at the hands of his cousin? The losses he had with his parents, his godfather, and a schoolmate who had only wanted to help him?

"How could you have kept this from me?" he asked angrily. "How could you let me go on about my scar, when you had every opportunity to tell me about yours? You intentionally hid all this from me. Would you never have shared this part of you with me?"

She was still covering her scar with her hand, and Harry roughly pulled it away. The scar looked raw, as if the meeting with Lucius had irritated it. That made sense to Harry, as his own scar began to burn whenever Voldemort was near.

"Are you able to read his emotions through your scar?" he asked. Had she known Lucius was coming?

She said nothing.

"Everyone must have been right. Never trust a gypsy." He turned away from her, knowing there would be hurt in her eyes but feeling that she didn't have the right to be hurt at his words. He felt his stomach muscles clench up, but didn't break his stride. He had a feeling his stomach would be hurting for quite a while. That would be good, he told himself. Better the physical pain than the mental pain.

He slammed into the common room after growling the password at the Fat Lady. He was dismayed to see all the Gryffindors milling around, waiting for news from the outside. He didn't feel up to telling them anything.

He strode over to the corner and slammed himself down onto the couch. He made sure his body language told everyone not to bother him. Slowly, the room began to clear, some muffled grumbling mingling with footsteps on the stairs leading to the dormitories.

He felt the presence of someone next to him. Hermione. "I really don't want to talk, Hermione."

She sat down in the armchair next to him anyway. "Where's Tanya?"

"I don't know. More importantly, I don't care."

"Oh, my," Hermione said. "You think she was wrong to attack Lucius that way?"

"Don't you? What sort of monster cripples a man like that? And lures him here by making a living fool out of his son?"

"Perhaps someone whose family he'd cruelly wiped out eight years ago. Would you feel this way if it were Voldemort instead of Mr. Malfoy?"

"That's different," Harry insisted. "Voldemort was a threat to the whole world. Malfoy was in hiding. He wasn't threatening us."

"He was in hiding only until such time as he could make his move," Hermione argued. "Voldemort killed your parents. Wouldn't you like to see him dead?"

"She didn't kill Malfoy, she crippled him!" he spat out. "Like a cat toying with a mouse! It would have been more merciful if she had killed him!"

"Who are you to judge her?" Hermione's voice was rising to match his. "He didn't just kill her parents, he killed everyone she knew and cared about! She was left orphaned and alone from the age of seven! At least you'd been delivered to relatives. There was no Dumbledore to look out for her; she had to do it herself!"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about it anymore. But Hermione was still studying him.

"What's that in your hand?"

Harry didn't know what she was talking about at first. He opened his hand, surprised to see Tanya's necklace still there, broken chain and all.

"It's the necklace Tanya always wore to hide her scar," he said bitterly.

"What scar?"

"Didn't you see that memory? Malfoy's Avada Kedavra curse hit her, but she survived it. That's where you get the scar." To illustrate his point, he pushed his hair off his forehead and pointed to his legacy from Voldemort. "She has one at the base of her throat. She kept it a secret, using high collars and this necklace." He tossed the offending piece of jewelry to the table.

"Well, what do you expect?" Hermione shot back. "Do you think she should have made announcements? 'Hello, I'm Tanya Relke, and this is my scar.' I would have thought you'd understand about scars. You, of all people." She shook her head in disgust.

Harry looked up at her. "She didn't have to make any announcements," he persisted, through gritted teeth. "She could have told me, though. She knew all about my scar."

"Oh, Harry, everyone knows about your scar. Would you wish that sort of fame on her? I thought you cared about her. Or do you think you own her and her memories just because you've had her in bed?"

Harry looked at her, flabbergasted. "We have not been to bed, Hermione."

He waited for his face to heat up in embarrassment, but he must have been too emotionally spent for that. He sat, saying nothing. Hermione clearly decided he wouldn't see the light on this day and stood up to leave him to his thoughts. "You'd better not leave that necklace there," she told him, "as it probably won't be there in the morning. And perhaps you'd better have it repaired before returning it to her."

As if. Harry looked at the necklace as Hermione's footsteps faded away. Tanya probably would appreciate having it back, seeing as how it's the only thing she had left of her sister.

He thought about the time Tanya had told him how her father had tried to marry her off to that old gypsy. She'd mentioned going back to the encampment just before leaving for the States. That's when Lucius must have shown up there. If she were a day later, or even earlier, she wouldn't have that scar. But she'd still be missing her family. Lucius didn't seem to care who was there when he wiped them out; clearly he hadn't taken count.

But then Tanya had stopped her narrative. She'd purposely decided not to tell Harry about Lucius' devastating attack. Yet she'd shown no compunction about letting the whole school in on it today.

It was hard for Harry to realize that she must have planned for this, or she wouldn't have bothered to curse Draco. She'd used the boy as bait, and she probably wouldn't even lose sleep over it.

He heard the portrait open, and he turned to watch Tanya enter the common room. She glanced at him, but without breaking stride, continued to the stairway up to her room.

He was glad; he had no more words left for her. He scooped up the hated necklace and headed up to his own bed.

Ron was sitting on his bed, looking as confused as he ever did. "Do you want to talk?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, but smiled to let Ron know he appreciated the company even so. He opened his fist and considered the necklace. He put it down on his bed, straightening out the chain and adjusting the pendant to where it would hang, hiding her scar. The chain had broken near the clasp, and he tried a simple Reparo charm. It worked. He opened and closed the clasp again, and turned the pendant over to make sure everything was good.

He didn't want to see her long enough to return it, though. He put it into a small box and addressed it to Tanya. He'd give it to Hedwig in the morning, with instructions to deliver it when she was alone. No note. None would be necessary. He had no doubt that Tanya knew how he felt about her now.

As Harry pondered his breakfast next morning, he watched as Tanya made her way into the hall, and listened to the instant hush that fell over the crowd inside. Good, he thought hatefully. Let her see what it feels like to be the subject of whispering. It was about time she paid her dues. He voiced this thought aloud to Hermione and Ron. Ron said nothing, as his mouth was full of porridge, but Hermione protested.

"Honestly, Harry," she objected. "You are so self-centered. Don't you think she's spent her life paying dues?"

Tanya didn't seem to notice the others' reaction. She headed to a seat at the Gryffindor table, not reacting when the other couple of students nearby suddenly sought to be elsewhere when she sat down. Harry watched her pour herself a cup of juice, and then he glanced up at the head table.

Dumbledore was watching Tanya, a concerned look on his face. Everyone else seemed to be looking for something interesting in their breakfasts. All except Snape. He was looking intensely at Tanya, as if willing her to look up and make eye contact.

At the sound of the owl post flying in the high windows, Harry remembered the necklace. He was dismayed to find Hedwig heading toward their table; he'd specifically ordered her to deliver it while Tanya was alone. Hedwig must be upset with him. Either that, or she interpreted alone to mean metaphorically, instead of physically. Because it seemed that Tanya was definitely alone. Yesterday's incident seemed to put renewed fear of gypsies back into everyone's mind.

He watched Hedwig drop the package in Tanya's hands, then drop to the table to drink from the juice cup Tanya poured for her. He kept his eye on her as she opened the package, and she looked directly up at him, not giving him time to look away. He was caught in her eyes, but he couldn't read them. It could have been his imagination, but he thought he saw her nod. Whether she was thanking him for returning it, or she was acknowledging that she was indeed persona non grata with him, he told himself it didn't matter.

As the level of conversations around them went back to normal, Harry turned at the noise of Hagrid entering the Great Hall, on his way to the Head Table. He stopped when he reached Tanya, leaning down to speak to her. As Tanya nodded, Hagrid stood up and Harry caught his last words. Apparently, he'd started a new project, probably breeding fire-breathing dragons, and Tanya had just received her day's assignment as his new apprentice.

As people began leaving the Hall, stomachs full, Harry reached for his bookbag, which he'd stashed under the table. He saw Tanya pass by him, her legs recognizable because she chose not to wear robes. Her new status as a non-student, and her choice in career entitled her to wear civilian clothing. He was relieved that she didn't stop to speak to him. He wasn't ready to face up to the cowardly way he'd avoided her in returning the necklace.

Before she could exit the Hall, Dumbledore had cut her off, placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning to speak into her ear. She nodded, and stepped out of the flow of student traffic to accompany him to the rear of the Hall. Harry watched the two of them disappear through the back door, where staff normally entered and left the Hall, and wondered now what was happening.

With a glance at his watch, he grabbed his books and sped off to Potions, wondering when Dumbledore would decide to let the student body know what was happening.

The strangeness that had permeated the school for the last twelve hours continued in the Potions classroom. They were supposed to be brewing a medicinal mixture to assist those unfortunate souls who had been hexed with Crucio, but Snape didn't seem to care about their mistakes. And, judging from the fumes and clouds of vapor rising from the various cauldrons, no one had gotten it quite right. It was supposed to be a very viscous potion, with red smoke at this stage, but Harry only saw pink, white, and in Millicent Bulstrode's case, black smoke.

Snape was pacing back and forth at the front of the class, occasionally trying to sit at his desk. But a second later, he would be up and pacing again. He only seemed this agitated where Tanya was concerned, so Harry assumed Snape was also curious about why Dumbledore pulled Tanya aside this morning, stopping her from going out to Hagrid's. He forced his mind to the task at hand, telling himself to let the others care about what was going on; he had more important things to do. If this potion drew a failing grade from Snape, he could kiss his future Auror career good-bye.

Snape catalogued all the samples his sixth years had turned in, intending to test them later. His mind was too far removed from the potions work to be able to determine safely if they were even fit to remove the stoppers from the bottles, let alone decide whether or not they were properly brewed. He warded the classroom and took off for Dumbledore's office.

The gargoyle allowed him entrance, but the office was empty when he arrived. Dumbledore's meeting with Tanya was concluded, then. He decided to seek her out rather than Dumbledore, since there were only a few places she was likely to be, this time of day.

He had just decided to head to Hagrid's cottage, knowing that's where she would most likely be, when the door opened again to admit Dumbledore. The headmaster didn't seem surprised to see Snape, and conjured up a kettle of tea and some biscuits. Inviting Snape to sit down and relax, he poured the tea and settled in an armchair opposite Snape before the fire.

"Well, before you ask, Tanya's gone with Fudge and a few others. She went quietly, with my assurance that we'll do everything we can to help."

"She went where?" Snape asked, knowing the answer before the old man could supply it.

"Azkaban. She'll be there pending a full investigation. She'll have to meet before the Panel, once they've had the chance to check out the story."

"Why couldn't she have stayed here to await the hearing?" He didn't want to think of Tanya sitting in a cell in that awful place, Dementors hovering over her. Anyone but her; he'd gladly take her place if it meant she could stay here.

"They felt she was a flight risk. Especially now that she's an accomplished Animagus, and one that flies, they wanted to make sure she was where they could keep an eye on her."

"That's entirely unnecessary!" Snape protested. "She's no more a threat to anyone here than you are. She did them a favor, dealing with Malfoy. And no one should have to go to Azkaban unless they're sentenced there. It's not meant to be a temporary holding cell. They have already decided on her guilt, haven't they?" The last question was asked in almost a whisper, Snape desperately hoping Dumbledore would contradict him.

"I fear so."

"Well, you told her we'd do everything we can. What does that mean? What can we do?"

"We can make sure her side of the story is known. We can make sure they understand that she poses no threat to anyone except Malfoy, and she's already expended her rage upon him. She could have killed him; she didn't. That must work in her favor. And we are allowed to visit her at Azkaban; being she hasn't been sentenced yet, she's allowed at least that privilege."

"How was she, when she left?"

"She didn't say anything. She didn't fight them. She went stoically."

"She's given up! If she had any hopes for the future, they never would have been able to take her."

"We'll have to make sure she knows she's not alone. We'll go see her there, and begin to plan some sort of defense. There must be leniency because of the extenuating circumstances, after all."

"Do you really want to rely on that? On the compassion of that Panel?"

"I don't know what else we can do."

Snape looked steadily at Dumbledore. "You've given up as well, haven't you?"

"I must admit," the headmaster replied, "that I have some doubts as to her loyalties. I'm wondering if her sole purpose in coming here was to exact her revenge on Lucius. If that's the case, the Ministry is not going to look too kindly upon her."

"She could have done this without having anything to do with our world. She came here because she wanted to be a part of us. She wanted, needed to belong to a world, somewhere. The gypsies won't have her because she's too gaje, and the Muggles won't have her because she's a gypsy. And now, she'll lose whatever place she's carving out for herself here, because we're afraid of her power? What about what that power can do for our world? Are you forgetting the confidence you had when you first found out what she could do?"

"But does she really care if Voldemort lives or dies? What's important to us is not necessarily important to her. She's done what she came here to do. What further use for us does she have?"

"That's not what's happened," Snape argued. "She didn't know Lucius would come here. It couldn't have been planned."

"But then why did she put that hex on young Malfoy? A hex that she still hasn't removed, by the way. Poor Malfoy won't come out of his room."

Snape had no answer to this. But he knew Tanya. And except for her blind spot where the Senior Malfoy was concerned, she didn't wish ill on anyone. There had to be a way to get her out of there, give her back her freedom.

"With all due respect, Headmaster," he said with steel in his voice. "If it were Potter in Azkaban, you would, no doubt, have already managed to secure his freedom. Why is it any different for Tanya?"

"Because I never had doubts about Harry. I'm having doubts about Tanya. With her talents, she could stop Voldemort before he could actually gather enough power and followers for the upcoming war that I'm sure will take place. But will she?"

"So that's what it boils down to, then, is it? If she agrees to destroy Voldemort once and for all, we'll rescue her from Azkaban?"

"It won't be a trade, Severus," the old man said. "I fully intend to get her out of there. But we'll need her help. She'll have to confirm or deny whatever allegations are made. And right now, I don't think she has any intention of cooperating. She's not answering any questions at all. She's climbed into her own little world, and I'm afraid we won't even be able to reach her. Especially after she spends much more time in the company of the Dementors. They're bound to affect her more than the average prisoner, because she's had more tragedy in her life than they had. We'll need to act quickly. I want you to accompany me there in an hours' time. I have been asked to wait until then to allow the prison to process her. Get her in a cell, establish a schedule of sorts. Then we'll see what her frame of mind is. She'll have to remain strong to fight this. If she appears mad, they'll never let her go."