Chapter 38
The Golden Library
To say that the first day of the new term was a bit manic was probably going to be the understatement of the year. And considering that they were only one week into the new year, that was really saying something, Harry noted wryly.
Admittedly, he was partially to blame for getting back so late from supper “ but he had purposely risen early enough the next day to complete all those tasks he had left undone the night before. After a quick breakfast, he made a point of contacting Dobby, the house-elf, to wish him a belated happy Christmas.
“You do not owe Dobby any special favors, sir,” the elf announced in his usual formal manner. “Dobby is here to serve.”
“I consider you my friend, Dobby,” Harry reminded him kindly. “And friends remember each other during the holidays. I apologize that I was unable to complete my shopping in time to give you this earlier. But, well, hope you like it.”
He thrust the small package that Hermione had wrapped for him towards Dobby. Inwardly, he intoned a few extra words of thanks to her for managing to find just the perfect gift in London.
Dobby unwrapped the gift hastily and then gasped appreciatively. He held up the miniature taffeta dinner jacket that Hermione had found in a children’s specialty shop. The fabric was a pastel checkerboard pattern that might have looked appealing in a tablecloth, but was definitely too effeminate for boys clothing. Harry had been instantly certain that Dobby would love it!
Dobby looked up at Harry adoringly, his bulging eyes filling with tears of joy. “It is too much, too wonderful! Dobby does not deserve such a beautiful gift from kind Harry Potter,” the house-elf simpered.
“Don’t be silly, Dobby. You’ve helped me out of so many scrapes I could never thank you enough. Try it on, will you? I’m dying to see if it fits.”
Fit it did, perfectly and garishly, on the elf’s diminutive form. He twirled around happily in front of Harry’s tall looking glass so that he could admire himself from all angles.
“Dobby will be the best dressed elf in all of Hogwarts castle!” he declared joyously. “How can Dobby ever repay you, sir?” Then his face fell and his bat-like ears drooped as he added, “Dobby did not get Harry Potter a present in return, sir.”
“That’s of no importance, Dobby. It pleases me to see that the jacket has brought you joy. But I could use your assistance with another matter, a confidential matter that I cannot entrust to anyone else.”
“Harry Potter has but to ask, sir!” Dobby replied, practically jumping up and down with delight.
“I have a small object in my possession,” Harry began, cupping his hands to show the approximate size of the bundle that contained the locket Horcrux. “A dangerous object that needs to be properly stored so that it does not harm those that come in contact with it.”
Dobby nodded gravely. “Dobby has felt the vibrations from such an object when he has cleaned Harry Potter’s room. A cursed object, it is.”
“You can detect these objects just by being in the same room with them?” Harry inquired with great interest.
“Not always, sir, but the vibrations from this object were especially strong. Harry Potter was storing it in a special section of his trunk, no?”
“Yes, Dobby. You didn’t handle it, did you? It has many terrifying and hidden properties.”
“No, no, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby would never presume to delve into another’s private possessions. The vibrations were strong enough that the object’s location could easily be established; that is extraordinary in itself.”
“Yes, well, it is a remarkably dangerous object that I’m studying as part of my lessons. But Dobby, I need a lead-lined box so that I can store it safely. The vibrations are so strong that they have begun to affect nearby objects, drained them of their magical powers in some cases. Can you obtain such a box for me? I haven’t been allowed to do any of my own shopping since early November.”
“Dobby understands, sir. The headmistress is wise to keep Harry Potter safely within the gates of Hogwarts school. The entire castle was in an uproar over the attack on Professor Lupin and yourself, sir.”
“Thank you for your concern, Dobby. Both of us have made a full recovery. But, yes, the situation has limited by freedom significantly. Do you think you can find a box like I require? I can provide you with galleons, if you need to purchase one.”
“Dobby can easily go to Dervish & Banges in Hogsmeade village, sir. Dobby will let you know the amount when he returns later this afternoon. Is that agreeable with sir’s timetable?”
Harry smiled broadly in return. “That is excellent, Dobby. You’ve kept me out of the fire again! I will be busy with research most of the day today and then have a late afternoon lesson with Professor Lupin, so would it be all right if we waited until after supper?”
“Dobby agrees, sir.” With a deep pastel bow, Dobby Disapparated.
With one very important item completed from the day’s agenda, Harry glanced at the mantle clock and saw that it was still relatively early. Neville’s door was open, indicating that he had already left on his duties but the closed doors to both Ron’s and Hermione’s rooms demonstrated that they were still both asleep.
Harry poured himself some cider from the cold cabinet and settled to do a bit of private research on the Horcruxes at one of the study desks in the common room. He retrieved the leather-bound notebook that he was using specifically for his Horcrux notes and the book that he had last been reading at the Burrow. Both had been very thoughtful Christmas presents from Hermione who had come up with a wealth of Muggle books mentioning Horcruxes by using a search engine at the cyber-café. Her mother had been kind enough to forward them to the Burrow so that they would not be searched in the same manner as incoming packages sent directly to the school.
Of course, using books intended for a Muggle audience meant that Harry had to separate a lot of conjecture from fact, but it was surprising how much of the details attributed to superstition dovetailed rather precisely with facts in the wizarding world. If only Muggles knew, Harry thought for the hundredth time.
At the unmistakable sounds of Ron awakening, he turned to watch his friend wander incoherently in search of a morning shower. Harry was not surprised when Ron ignored the good morning wave he sent in his direction. Experience had taught him that Ron would be returned to a much more humanlike demeanor when he emerged from the bathroom.
Returning his attention to the book before him, Harry started making notes on the alleged beneficial attributes of Horcruxes. According to this less than reliable source, these were longevity (cheating death would qualify here), prolonged beauty (doubtful), power (as in preventing heirs from taking over), and the ability to foretell the future (even more doubtful). A longer list of negative properties followed; although it was specified that only one, or maybe two, qualities would apply to each Horcrux receptacle, and that many exhibited none of these side effects. Disorientation, insanity, dehydration, insomnia, blindness, indigestion, skin ulcers; the list read like a compendium of the complaints of mankind. Any kind of malady could have been attributed to a Horcrux based on this listing. No wonder these items were known as cursed objects.
Shaking his head at the amount of useless verbiage before him, Harry’s attention was arrested by the words of the subsequent paragraph.
Despite the extensive menu of negative consequences that have been attributed to Horcruxes throughout the ages, there is overwhelming evidence to suggest that, by far, the most common result of prolonged exposure to such an accursed object is forgetfulness. Tragic forgetfulness, in many cases, where persons forgot their names, their destinations, the desire to eat, even the need to sleep or to awaken in the morning.
This sounded exactly like those instances where he had assumed he had just fallen back to sleep after turning off the alarm clock! Added to that was the instance when he could not remember the headmistress’ password. He certainly had no trouble conjuring up ‘Black Watch’ from last night. As far as he knew, the locket was still in Hermione’s possession for safekeeping and she had not stirred this morning!
Spurred to immediate action, Harry grabbed a still-dripping Ron as he emerged from the bathroom toweling his hair.
“Blimey, Harry!” Ron complained. “Give a bloke a chance to properly wake up in the morning!”
“Ron, this is important!” Harry cried. “Do you know what time Hermione is to meet with the headmistress today?”
“Haven’t a clue,” Ron returned sheepishly. “Are you suddenly her social secre--” Ron’s quip died in his throat as he saw the urgent look in Harry’s eyes. “What’s happened?”
“I left the locket from Grimmauld Place with Hermione for safe-keeping. I just discovered that prolonged exposure to it can cause extreme forgetfulness. As in forgetting to wake up, Ron! Think of all those instances last term when I kept oversleeping!”
Ron dived into his sweatshirt and jeans and joined Harry outside of Hermione’s door. Harry reported no response to his knocking and shouting.
“I’ve tried the knob. It’s locked.”
“I’ll break down the door if I have to, Harry!”
“Let me try a spell first,” Harry desisted. “If I get zapped, so be it! I doubt that the hex is strong enough to cause unconsciousness.”
“I wouldn’t put it past the headmistress,” Ron warned.
“Then you’ll still be unaffected and can run for help,” Harry reasoned. “At all costs, Ron, we cannot afford to have anyone else involved in this. Not Lupin, not the headmistress, not Madam Pomfrey. Not even Neville. I promised Dumbledore that no one other than the three of us would know about the Horcruxes!”
“I understand, Harry,” Ron nodded insistently. “I’ll just think of some ruse if I have to call on anyone else for help. Just try the spell, for Merlin’s sake!”
Harry pointed his wand at the lock and pronounced, “Alohamora!” Nothing happened. He tried again with similar results. After the third attempt, small wisps of bluish smoke could be seen curling from the edges of the brass doorknob.
“Careful, it might be hot!” Harry jerked Ron’s hand away.
Ron responded immediately by throwing off his sweatshirt and wrapping it around his hand in order to touch the metal safely. It was difficult to get a good purchase on the knob in order to turn it, but he urged the door to give way by hammering on the wood with his other hand until he felt it start to respond. At the last minute, he jumped back to keep from falling through the doorway into Hermione’s room.
Picking himself up from the floor, Ron exclaimed, “Didn’t want to risk that doorway without a shirt on. Ruddy thing might have zapped me twice!”
From their vantage point in the common room, Harry could see that Hermione was still sound asleep in her bed. They called her name repeatedly, but there was no response. Ron shrugged back into his shirt and made to cross the threshold, but Harry pulled him back.
“No, if anyone’s going to do this, it will be me,” Harry maintained. “Not only was it me that entrusted the locket to her in the first place, but I’m a lot more likely to engage the emergency override. You have too much of a history with her, Ron.”
“Let’s try something else first,” Ron urged and returned from his room with an armful of Decoy Detonators. “Hopefully, the smoke from these will wake her up.”
Harry quickly aimed another alohamora spell in the direction of the window lock so that Crookshanks could enter and create some ventilation for the room. Perhaps the sudden draft of frigid January air would help wake Hermione as well. Not wishing to be part of this bizarre morning ritual, the cat escaped through their legs into the common room.
Ron activated the first Decoy Detonator and positioned it just on the outside of the doorjamb. The tiny man walked forward for a few feet on tottering legs before collapsing on its side and shooting off silver firework stars. As the stars dissipated, a thin layer of smoke hung over the bed like a fog.
“I don’t think that was such a good idea, Ron,” Harry admitted. “People have been known to suffocate in smoke, some without even waking out of their sleep. Do any of those detonators made a loud noise? That’s what we really need!”
Peering carefully at the boxes, Ron located one that was supposed to emit noise and set if off across the threshold. It traveled a bit farther than the first figure and then raised a miniature horn to its lips and sounded a mighty klaxon. The sheer annoyance factor was so great that they saw Hermione begin to stir in bed.
Before she had a chance to just roll over and go back to sleep, Ron yelled, “HERMIONE! WAKE UP! PLEASE, HERMIONE!”
Hermione turned a bleary-eyed face in their direction then sat bolt upright in bed, clutching the lacy neckline of her nightshirt to her body in shock.
“What are you two doing! Can’t a girl get some sleep around here without someone playing a juvenile prank?” She caught sight of the time on her bedside clock and went into overdrive. “Oh, no! I’m supposed to meet with the headmistress in three quarters of an hour. I’ll never make it!” She grabbed her dressing gown and dashed into the bathroom without looking back.
Ron made as if to grab her in a hug as she whisked by him, but he missed. “I’ll catch her on the way out,” he declared with conviction as Harry just laughed in relief.
“I’ll accompany her to the headmistress’ office, Ron,” Harry offered. “I’m sure she no longer has any idea what the password is.”
Harry was organizing the items in his book bag when Hermione dashed out of the bathroom, wet hair flying in all directions.
“I can’t remember the bloody password!” she bemoaned. “This is turning into a nightmare…”
“Got your back, Hermione,” Harry replied calmly. “Professor Lupin gave me the password last night so that I could do a bit of research in the headmistress’ library. I’ll walk with you as soon as you’re ready.”
“You’re a lifesaver!” Hermione exclaimed as she snatched Harry up in a quick hug. “I’ll just go change quickly.”
“Hey, hey!” Ron intoned as he grabbed Hermione by the wrist and drew her close for a much more passionate embrace. The surprise was evident on Hermione’s face as she slowly broke away from Ron’s arms.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked with a smile.
“I’m just glad that you’re all right,” Ron gushed, suddenly embarrassed that he had acted so spontaneously in front of Harry.
“It’s a long story, Hermione,” Harry supplied. “I’ll fill you in on our way to the headmistress’ office. You’d better hurry and change into your school robes!”
Hermione had still been in a flustered state when they arrived at the headmistress’ office a short time later. Professor McGonagall was sympathetic and suggested that they have a spot of tea in her private garden before they got started. Her response to Hermione’s profuse apologies was filled with calm assurances. Now that she had delegated a considerable portion of her more ponderous tasks to the deputy headmistress, she explained, the midday hours of the day were totally at her disposal.
“I’m sure you took considerable care in preparing your assignment, dear,” McGonagall remarked with a smile. “There is really no need to rush through your presentation. I find that a more relaxed atmosphere is more conducive to the sharing of ideas. Isn’t that the way that your lessons with Professor Lupin are structured, Harry?”
Caught unawares, Harry nodded dumbly and mumbled, “Yes, Headmistress. We often have rather lively discussions.”
“Professor Lupin is a great believer in interactive methods,” the headmistress acknowledged with a nod of approval.
If only she knew the truth of the matter, Harry thought to himself, then wondered if she would even be surprised. There was much to suggest that she, herself, had shared a friendship with Lupin during his student days.
Turning to Hermione, McGonagall suggested, “Why don’t you take a moment to show Harry to the library, dear, while I go see about the tea? You can join me in the garden when you’re ready.”
Hermione led Harry towards a small set of double doors that were practically hidden in the shadows beneath the great curving stairs. Grabbing both doorknobs at once, she opened a portal into a room of such breath-taking beauty that Harry was momentarily stunned. It was a long, curving area in fitting with the contours of the headmistress’ circular office. The facing wall was nothing but floor to ceiling windows that provided a majestic view of the snow-capped purple peaks beyond the lake. Every other available surface was covered in bookshelves, their gilded edges seeming to capture the soft winter sunlight and reflect it tenderly in the direction of the pale wood tables that filled the center of the room. It was a room that inspired lofty ideas from great minds, Harry concluded.
Showing him where the Daily Prophet archives were to be found, Hermione whispered that she would return later to show Harry the copying spell. In the meanwhile, he should just stack the materials that he needed to one side.
Remembering that Snape had been in the same class as his own parents, Harry began his search with the year of his own father’s birth. He did not find a birth announcement for Severus, but that was hardly surprising considering that the man’s father had been a Muggle. Virtually all birth announcements in the Prophet were for pure-blood offspring, Harry noted.
He was soon lost in the world of old newspapers even though he had found nothing so far that pertained to his assignment. There were occasional familiar names, most notably Albus Dumbledore, but mostly his impression was that it had been a relatively calm time with little suspicious dark activity “ at least according to the news stories. Knowing how one-sided the Prophet had shown itself to be in current times, Harry did not think that his impressions were necessarily accurate. Voldemort must have already been amassing a secret army of Death Eaters during this time.
His attention was piqued by an article that declared that the Shrieking Shack had been accorded the dubious honor of being named the most haunted building in all of Britain. Harry smiled, thinking how Lupin was single-handedly responsible for that accolade. The article was also an indicator that he had arrived at the time period when Snape was a student at Hogwarts. As he continued his research, it became apparent that the effects of Voldemort’s first bid for power had soon escalated to the point that they could no longer be ignored by the Prophet’s correspondents. Articles about unexplained disappearances began to appear more and more frequently even though they were often buried at the bottom of the pages.
Counting back, he concluded that he had now arrived at the autumn of the year when Severus would have begun his N.E.W.T. level classes in his sixth year. Disappearances were now being featured in more prominent sections of the paper, alongside stories about strange happenings among the Muggle population as well. Things must have been really getting serious for the wizarding press to start noticing Muggle events, he noted wryly.
Turning to an issue from January, Harry was arrested by the banner headline that read: ‘Hogwarts Student Detained in Connection with Muggle Attack.’ The picture below showed a teenaged Snape being forcibly dragged away from a sobbing woman who was identified as his mother. Harry’s eyes devoured the article below.
The countryside surrounding the northern town of Leeds was rent with the agonizing screams of Muggle, Tobias Snape, as he was repeatedly victimized by the Cruciatus Curse in the early hours of 29 December. Magical Law Enforcement authorities arrived on hand to find the victim’s son, Severus Snape, 16, who was home for the holiday break from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, standing over his father’s still writhing form with a hardened expression on his face. Expressing no remorse for his actions, young Snape was removed immediately for further questioning by Ministry officials.
When reached for comment, Mafalda Hopkirk of the Improper Use of Magic Office, indicated that while the Decree for Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery allows for magic to be used under extraordinary circumstances, the severity of the curse employed has rendered this case unique. “We have no precedents by which to judge young Snape’s actions,” she admitted. “He apparently feels justification, but can offer no evidence that his own life was being threatened directly.”
Qualified Obliviators were summarily dispatched to the scene to deal with the numerous Muggles in the immediate area. What initially appeared to be a daunting task turned out to require only minimal modifications to those who had come in direct contact with the members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. An Oblivator who requested to remain off the record, had this to say, “The neighbors were so accustomed to hearing sounds of fighting and abuse coming from the Snape residence at Spinner’s End that the events of 29 December did not seem out of the ordinary in the least.”
One neighbor, who agreed to speak with this reporter only if guaranteed anonymity, states, “Sure, we all know that Toby liked to rough up his wife a bit, ‘specially after a night of fierce drinkin’, but we never saw nothin’ more serious than bruises on her body. It’s not like he ever caused any permanent damage such as broken bones and the like. And that strange son of his was never touched, far as we could see.”
In the modest Muggle community where the Snape family has lived for the past twenty years, it is not common knowledge that Eileen Snape, née Prince, mother of the accused, attended Hogwarts School herself and that her only child, Severus, inherited her magical abilities. Neighbors describe the mother and son as very private, reclusive even, and not prone to socializing among others in the community. Co-workers from the nearby textile mill, where Eileen has managed to maintain employment despite almost continuous cut backs, describe her as very quiet and shy. None were able to provide any personal data even though they worked alongside her for more than a decade.
It is unclear at this writing whether young Severus will be permitted to return to school when the next term begins in a week’s time. Although Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster at Hogwarts, declined repeated requests for interviews concerning his notorious pupil, Ministry officials reported that he had appealed to them directly to remand Severus into his custody so that the lad could continue his education without interruption. At issue is whether the remainder of the student body will be endangered by Severus’ return, even if he were given private classes.
The volatile situation at Spinner’s End has prompted officials to temporarily entrust the care of young Severus to the family of Walden Macnair, a classmate with whom he shares a dormitory in Slytherin House.
Due to the complexity of the legal issues involved, the disciplinary hearing has been postponed until 6 February to allow both sides to prepare their arguments.
Harry marked the page and set that particular issue of the Daily Prophet aside for later copying. The sensationalism of the reporting had left him with an uncomfortable desire to wash his hands. At least when an acknowledged tabloid such as The Quibbler ran unsubstantiated stories about fantastic beasts, no one’s name was being dragged through the mud. Despite their long-standing animosity, Harry felt the first stirrings of sympathy for Snape. To have a less than ideal family life was bad enough, to have it become the subject of headlines had to have been sheer agony.
Follow-up stories were numerous as every extra tidbit was held up for scrutiny in the public eye. The lack of any records to indicate that neither Snape nor his mother had ever sought the assistance of a Healer or even a Muggle doctor was trumped up as evidence that the allegations of abuse were unfounded. Their arguments that they did not have the resources to pay for medical treatment, that they had simply mended broken bones themselves with hastily learned healing spells, that to bring undue attention to their predicament would surely have guaranteed a fresh round of beatings were totally discounted. That Snape’s mother had an exemplary record of attendance at work also belied her claims of abuse. To Harry, it seemed just one more indicator that they had needed the income so badly that the woman had not had the luxury of admitting the pain “ even to herself.
That Snape would be exonerated in the end was so blatantly obvious to Harry that all the arguments and innuendos contained within the newspaper stories seemed like only more attempts to maximize on someone else’s tragedy. Despite the reporter’s obvious bias, the truth leapt from the page. Snape had been defending his poor, abused mother from his drunken father; it had been a clear act of defense. Considering the routine nature of abuse they had endured, that Snape would employ a Cruciatus Curse as an object lesson made perfect sense. It also spoke of endurance that had reached its limit.
The sounds of the library doors opening brought Harry’s thoughts to the present. Hermione returned in high spirits after having received the headmistress’ generous compliments on her presentation. She was brought short by the immensity of the documents that Harry had amassed for copying.
“Have you been working all this time, Harry?” she asked in a concerned tone. “It’s long past lunchtime in the Great Hall. Let me ask the headmistress to order you some sandwiches.”
Professor McGonagall sympathized with the grumblings of Harry’s stomach and kept him company in the garden while he consumed his late lunch.
“You would have never made it through your lesson with Professor Lupin,” she chided him. When she saw that Harry was prompted to apologize for inconveniencing her, she added, “I have often forgotten to eat while working in that room myself. But I guarantee you that your inspiration will plummet when your body collapses from lack of nourishment.”
Returning to the library, he found that Hermione had a neat stack of copied documents ready for him and was engrossed in an account of Snape’s actual disciplinary hearing.
“We have official copies of the legal proceedings of the Wizengamot, in case you weren’t aware,” she explained. “Not run-of-the-mill disciplinary hearings, mind you, but cases that were serious enough to be tried by the full court. Since Dumbledore was a member, he was accorded special privileges.”
“Hermione, the hearing I was subjected to over those dementors that Umbridge dispatched to Little Whinging was tried by the full court.”
“But that’s very unusual, Harry,” she replied, her interest obviously piqued. “That’s only done in matters of grave importance, life or death, or when they think the case will set a legal precedent.”
“See that’s what I don’t understand. Despite the vastly different circumstances, the legal arguments in Snape’s case are almost identical to those in mine. Umbridge was obviously seeking to railroad me, she admitted as much. But I don’t see what would make Snape’s case so unusual “ other than the Prophet’s desire to rake up as much dirt as possible.”
“I noticed that, too,” Hermione admitted. “But as to your preliminary concern, why don’t we compare the proceeding from both cases and see what the legal differences were?”
In a matter of moments, they had identified the disparity: the exceptional circumstances clause had not read the same in Snape’s youth. There was a provision for self-defense in the case of personal endangerment of the underage witch or wizard themselves, but not for others present at the same time.
“Under these guidelines, I would’ve been convicted,” Harry whispered, his mouth suddenly dry. “It would have been a crime to defend my cousin, Dudley!”
“I think, then, that it’s safe to say that Snape’s case set the precedent for yours,” Hermione surmised. “Here, let’s copy these two pages so that you can illustrate these findings to Professor Lupin, as well. I’ll walk you through the spell.”
The sheer magnitude of the information available was staggering. Harry selected to present the bare bones of it to Lupin today and then, as Hermione suggested, he would request additional time to revisit it in more detail. To his surprise, the legal battle was turning out to be fascinating; the words springing to life from the pages of the transcript as if he were present in the court room himself.
“It’s often like that if you know the personalities involved,” Hermione confessed. “It’s as if you can hear the voices in your head as you read the transcript.”
“It certainly does make it less dry,” Harry admitted.
“The fact that you were involved in a similar battle makes Severus’ circumstances touch you in a much more personal way,” Hermione added knowingly.
“How did you get so caught up in it, then?” Harry asked abruptly.
“You know me, I can always find the story thread in just about anything. I suppose that’s what makes me so good at school assignments. I can always find an angle that makes it relevant to me.”
“Thanks for all you help, Hermione.”
“Glad to do it,” she replied with smile. “Before you go any further, though, let me show you a spell that Professor Lupin perfected to speed up your research time. He claims that it’s the magical equivalent to the Internet search engine.” She added with a small giggle, “I think my visits to the cyber-café inspired him.”
Feeling like he knew everyone (including Hermione) a little better, Harry made his way briskly towards Lupin’s office. A glance at the nearest clock showed that he was running a few minutes late for his appointment. Hopefully, the weight of his completed research would be enough to exonerate him; not that Lupin was so hard-nosed about things anyway “ not when it was just the two of them.
Finding the door unlocked, Harry let himself into the room to find Lupin’s desk was empty. Although there was no answer to his soft knock on the door to the inner office, Harry found that it was also unlocked as he boldly turned the knob. Lupin was dozing so soundly in his favorite chair by the fire that Harry’s instinctive reaction was just to tiptoe back out again.
Instead, he tried closing the door behind him sharply, hoping that the resulting sound would cause Lupin to stir, but it was to no avail. Removing the stack of copied documents from his book bag, Harry set them with a resounding boom on the sturdiest of the side tables.
To his relief, Lupin started awake when he realized that he was no longer alone. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” Lupin offered as he ran his fingers through his hair self-consciously. “I just closed my eyes for a moment…”
“Forgive me, Professor, I’m the one who’s running late for our appointment,” Harry replied immediately. Then sitting down on the nearest footstool, he searched Lupin’s face more carefully and added, “You look like you hardly slept last night, Remus. Would you prefer to cancel for today?”
“I’m really all right,” Lupin replied as he stifled a yawn. “I could do with a bit of tea, though.”
“Here let me get it,” Harry suggested, sneaking another surreptitious glance in Lupin’s direction while the man’s back was turned. His posture suggested an exhaustion so profound that Harry wondered yet again whether the treatment that Tonks and Madam Pomfrey had undertaken was truly well advised. Not that it was any of his business, to be sure, but he couldn’t help but be concerned.
Harry adjusted the tea to Lupin’s preference and handed the steaming mug to him with a warm smile. “I’m sorry if I kept you too late last night.”
“Now you sound like me, taking on everyone else’s burdens,” Lupin noted with a dry chuckle. “Please, Harry, it was not so terribly late when you left. I was the one who stayed up way beyond that listening to Tonks go on about Minerva’s party. I always lose track of time when I’m laughing.”
“But, Remus, you were there yourself!”
“I know, but it’s so much more entertaining when Tonks retells it. She does have a gift for telling a funny story.”
Harry smiled fondly at the recollection. “She does at that. Do you think she’ll share that version with the Hufflepuffs on Wednesday evening?”
“I bloody well hope not!” Lupin exclaimed. “I’d sure hate to have to start repacking my trunk so soon… Please tell me I’m not going to have to hire a spy to make sure that she confines her stories to our holiday trip to Africa. She certainly has enough material there.”
“I thought her comments about her father being more concerned about your political leanings than anything else were particularly amusing,” Harry added with a grin.
“I’d actually rather she didn’t retell that story, either.” Seeing the puzzled look on Harry’s face, he added, “It’s all right when we laugh about those things among ourselves, Harry, but there are things about which it’s best to not remind other people. Just let them forget…”
“Do you ever forget, Remus?”
“No, but I’d very much like to be able to do so,” Lupin responded candidly. Then noticing Harry’s stack of documents, he deftly changed the subject. “I see you’ve been busy with your research today.”
Harry took that as his cue to outline his recent findings concerning Severus Snape. Lupin listened intently, nodding in many places to indicate his familiarity with the subject.
“Was Snape allowed to return to Hogwart’s at the start of winter term? The stories in the Daily Prophet skip those facts entirely, as if there were too mundane for their readers,” Harry asked, eager to piece together the story.
“Absolutely, Dumbledore saw to that personally. Despite what the Prophet implied, not a single student considered themselves to be in any danger from attending classes with Severus. Like you said, the situation was so clear cut that it seemed almost ludicrous that it spawned one of the most heavily argued court cases in recent memory.”
“So Dumbledore never gave him any private classes?”
“Not in the way that the article implied. Severus’ presence was required at the trial naturally, so it did result in numerous absences from class. But as far as I could tell, Dumbledore accompanied him in each instance, and the other teachers made allowances for him to catch up the work that he missed. Despite the Prophet’s best attempts to turn others against Severus, the situation had quite the opposite effect. Just about everyone was willing to forgive his previous surliness and offered him their consolation and, in many cases, their friendship. As for the Slytherins, they welcomed him as an unsung hero in their midst.”
“How did he react to everyone knowing about his family situation?” Harry was prompted to ask.
“There had always been rumors about an abusive situation, but Severus had just ignored those. I think he found it intolerable that everyone was now aware of the truth. He pretty much rejected everyone and retreated even more deeply into himself, if that was possible. In contrast, he became closer to his Slytherin friends as they had been the only ones who had welcomed him into their fold prior to his notoriety.”
“But, Remus, that was to be expected after Voldemort argued on his behalf before the Wizengamot--” Harry began.
Lupin’s attention arrested, he cut across Harry, “How does Voldemort figure into this?”
“He presented himself as having legal credentials from Blackfriars College, Oxford, and argued Severus’ case before the Wizengamot,” Harry repeated. “It was those pleas which ultimately swayed the minds of the members of the court.”
“I always just assumed Dumbledore had acted on Severus’ behalf,” Lupin admitted quietly.
“He did,” Harry explained. “But Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Voldemort, showed up to steal his thunder. It appears that he also stole Snape’s loyalty in the bargain. I have a portion of the court transcripts right here.”
“You have the actual transcripts?” Lupin was awed.
“I only copied a portion of them in the interest of time. But, yes, the full transcripts are available in the headmistress’ library. As a member of the Wizengamot, Dumbledore was always provided with a copy of the court transcripts for his own use.”
“I never knew this,” Lupin commented thoughtfully. “There’s is a lot more to this issue than I initially thought “ a darker, more insidious thread indeed.”
“Hermione suggested that I request additional time to follow up on some of these other aspects,” Harry suggested.
“Tell me, Harry, does this issue interest you?” Lupin asked with a kind smile. “Be honest.”
“Actually, it does, much to my initial surprise. Legal issues between his case and mine are strikingly similar. Both cases even share a disturbing manipulative aspect: Umbridge pulling the strings to get me expelled and Voldemort orchestrating the events so that Snape would see him as his true savior.”
“Here’s what I propose that we do then,” Lupin suggested. “Firstly, you should obtain two copies of all the additional documents that pertain to this issue, including the full transcripts. One copy is for you, the other is for my use. I give you until Friday to complete this part of the assignment “ with the understanding that if you run into any snags or delays, you will notify me so that the deadline can be adjusted.” He paused to make sure that Harry understood.
“Right, you want a copy of all of my discovery documents.” Harry nodded.
“You’re familiar with the legal term?”
“My Uncle Vernon is a great fan courtroom dramas “ at least when he can wrestle one of the television sets away from Dudley, that is. What’s the second part of the assignment?”
“We’ll discuss that in more detail on Friday. Right now, let me make a copy of what you’ve obtained so far so that I can start reviewing it myself.” Lupin quickly assembled a slightly taller stack of blank parchment sheets next to Harry’s documents then with a curious swirling and stabbing motion of his wand, the data was transferred onto the blank sheets.
“Where did you learn that spell?” Harry demanded.
Lupin smiled wryly. “It’s one that I developed on my own. But I’d be glad to teach it to you if you would find it useful. The key issue is to always use more blank sheets than you think you’ll need so you don’t end up with some missing documents or with some data that is inadvertently superimposed upon others.”
The spell turned out to be somewhat devilish and Harry decided that it was definitely simpler to just make two copies of each document initially. Lupin assured him that all he needed was a bit of practice.
“By the way, Harry, that was a phenomenal bit of research you presented today,” Lupin added with a broad smile. “Twenty points to Gryffindor.”
“Thanks, Professor,” Harry replied as he gave Lupin a quick hug in parting, “but your words mean much more.”