Voice of Truth by Ginny_W
Chapter Notes: OotP quote from chapter 13: “You look really angry about something.”
A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed this so far. I really appreciate it.
“Oi, what’s going on in here?” came a voice near the doorway. Harry and I both look up to see Ron and Ginny standing there. “You all right, Harry? You look really angry about something.”
I can’t help but to roll my eyes at the obvious statement. I’m not surprised that the pair have found their way into this room. I was certain that they had seen Harry and I leave, and if anyone could break through my wards, it would be one of them. They know me so well.
Opening my mouth to comment, I am cut-off by Harry before I can utter a sound.
“Ron, Ginny, come in and have a seat. Hermione, here, is getting ready to tell us exactly how well she knows our old Potions professor, Severus Snape.”
Of course, both redheads are slightly taken aback by Harry’s announcement, but they quickly conjure their own chairs, perch themselves on the edge of their cushions, and wait for me to continue my story. While I mentally adjust to telling my other two friends the rest of my tale, Harry brings them up-to-date.
Carefully thinking about my word choice, I wait until Harry tells them everything. There is no reason for me to divulge that once I had Severus’ book and the information from Dumbledore I soon began obsessing about the man. He was no longer the slimy git that I knew in school. He was a living, breathing individual with his own story to tell. I wanted to know what made him who he was and what lay beneath the surly exterior.
I’m surprised that Harry isn’t shouting when he tells our friends that I first spoke with Snape four years ago. Once Ron and Ginny are duly surprised at the secrets I’ve been keeping, I continue on.
“Miss Granger,” a silky voice drawled in her ears.
Hermione struggled to keep her breathing under control. Expecting a wand to be pointed at her, she carefully turned around.
“Give me your wand,” the dark-haired man demanded. This request was not unexpected; Hermione had thought that if she were in his position she’d demand the same thing. She fumbled through her robes for her wand and quickly handed it over to him. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked.
“We’re going someplace else?” Hermione asked, surprised.
“This is hardly the place to carry on an in-depth conversation, Miss Granger.” He paused, looking at her intently. “You have no reason to fear me, unless you intend to double-cross me,” he hissed.
“No, of course not,” she asserted.
Nodding curtly, Snape lifted his wand and cracked it soundly over her head. The Disillusionment Charm ran down the length of her body before he cast the charm on himself. While they were standing still, Hermione could tell that someone was standing there, as soon as he moved, he was nothing more than a blur. If anyone was still around they would simply think that any movement they saw was nothing more than wind.
She startled as she felt his hand grasp her elbow. “So you don’t get lost,” he said quietly. “Now, come.”
They walked quickly and silently through the cemetery towards the gates. Hermione had to force herself to hold her tongue. She desperately wanted to ask where they were going. They passed a few stragglers, though most were lost in conversations with others to even notice the Disillusioned figures. However, Hermione caught a glimpse of Hogwarts’ Headmistress and could’ve sworn that the older witch nodded slightly to them.
Once outside the gates of Hogwarts, he kept a firm hold on her arm, and they Disapparated.
“You make it sound like Professor McGonagall knew that you both were there,” Ginny interrupted.
I nod. “I think she did. Ever since that afternoon, she’s given me a few odd looks and has made comments like: It’s a pity what happened to Severus. I think that if someone just took the time they may be able to help him.”
“She’s actually said that?” asked Ron in disbelief.
“Yes, she has… on more than one occasion.”
I look to Harry who seems to be lost in thought. He finally meets my gaze and asks, “Where did he take you?”
“To his childhood home.”
Harry nods. “I’ve been there,” he acknowledges. “We thought we picked up his trail a while back, and we went to that house. He wasn’t there, though. There wasn’t any evidence that he had been there for quite some time.”
“He doesn’t live there,” I admit. “At the time, he wasn’t about to take me to where he was hiding.”
Harry nods again. “What happened while you were there?” he prods.
“Simple. I pulled out all of the notes that I’d taken, and the research that I’d done over the last year. We discussed my findings, he answered my questions, and filled in the gaps that I’d had.” Leaning forward in my chair, I eye Harry again. “Everything that I wrote in my report to you, Harry, all came from that meeting with him. Well, most of it, anyhow. There was still the evidence to gather. However, everything that I turned in to you a few weeks ago was carefully written, obtained, and verified.”
“Hermione, that’s not the sort of information that can solely be verified in an afternoon,” Harry states.
“No, it isn’t. After that afternoon, we made arrangements to meet again in two weeks. By the fifth meeting, I think it was, he began to trust me.”
“Good morning. Shall we go?” a deep, smooth voice asked.
Hermione turned abruptly around and faced the dark-haired man. His skin was still rather pale, but not nearly as much as it had been when she’d been a student. Instead of his normal black cloak and billowing robes, he was wearing a long Muggle trench coat.
She gave him a soft smile. The walls that they both had built around themselves slowly began to slip away, as they began to build an awkward friendship.
“What? You’re not going to take my wand?” Hermione replied. She was standing close to the water in front of Peter Pan’s statue in Kensington Gardens when he had approached her.
“No, I am not,” he answered simply, matching her grin with a sly smirk. “Are you ready?”
Eagerly, she placed her hand in his, and they walked towards the shelter of trees so that they could freely Disapparate.
“Where did you go?” asked Ginny. She seemed almost as giddy and excited as she had as an adolescent.
“We went to the Gaunt home where Dumbledore had found that first Horcrux,” I reply. “I needed to find the traces of magic that had affected Dumbledore. He wasn’t lying, Harry, when he’d told you that he was on death’s doorstep when he’d returned from that trip. Severus had worked very hard and was barely able to save him.”
“Yeah, just so he could kill him a few months later,” came the sardonic reply.
“Did you even bother to read my report, Harry?” I finally ask, silently cursing myself as my eyes begin to water. “Or did you just skim and look for damning evidence to help you in your hunt? I went to painstaking efforts to ensure that everything… EVERYTHING in there was researched and accurate. Did you send the report on for anyone else to read? Or were you afraid that someone else would see the thoroughness of the documents and be forced to acknowledge that it was strong evidence to acquit Professor Snape!” I rail. “I know how much you lost, Harry. I’m your friend, remember? Dumbledore was that last thread that you had to hold on to… that last link to your parents, but you can’t go on blaming an innocent man.”
“An innocent man’s face does not contort with hatred and rage. An innocent man does not mean it when he shouts an Unforgivable,” Harry scathes.
“How do you know what he meant when he cast the Killing Curse, Harry? Can’t even the smallest part of your brain comprehend that maybe the thing that he hated was that Dumbledore was forcing him to kill him? That Severus hated the role that he had to play and wanted nothing more than to back out of it?” I counter. “I know he’s innocent. I TRUST him.”
“He killed him!” Harry shouts.
“Dumbledore was already dead! The curses that his body was afflicted with were eating away at him during our entire sixth year. The poison that he drank that night was the final straw. He wasn’t calling for Snape to save him. He knew that no one could. He was calling for Snape to kill him, to fulfill a vow. All of this, so that Snape could stick around and save your bloody hide when you went after Voldemort!”
Both redheads are entranced by the rally that Harry and I now have going on. Though rightfully so, both seem to be somewhat cautious, for fear that one of us may hex them.
Harry asks with his voice laden with hurt and disgust, “Just how many meetings did it take before you started shagging him?”
He’s caught me off guard with that question, and I stammer. “I”I… erm…”
“You… erm… what?” Harry mocks.
“It wasn’t like that, Harry,” I assert. “We became friends. The two of us were working together, spending our free time together. Severus and I…” My voice trails off as I begin to wonder if they would ever be able to comprehend my decisions. Tears were again threatening to spill.
I jump slightly when I feel someone’s arms come around me, pulling me into a fierce hug. Ginny rubs my back soothingly and mutters soft words of comfort. Sniffling to hold back the tears, I pull back from my friend. She gives me a soft smile before sitting back in her seat next to me. Her strong show of support is enough to help me to say what I need to say.
“I love him,” I mutter softly, but firmly. “I have spent the last three years trying to help him. I had hoped that I could get that final bit of evidence from you, Harry, so I could ensure his acquittal.”
Harry glares at his wife, obviously upset with her because she’d offer me comfort ” especially after such a startling confession. “There is nothing in Dumbledore’s gadgets that could possibly clear Professor Snape,” he responds. “They are nothing but odd, spurting, twirling knick-knacks. What could there possibly among them that I haven’t yet seen?”
“A Pensieve memory,” I reply confidently.