FIC for:Deianaera
Title: Subtle Shades of Grey
Recipient: Deianaera
Characters: Snape, Harry, Remus, Kingsley
Fic or Art: Fic
Warnings: None given
Summary: None given
Notes: The image of Snape dressed Muggle came from Rickman in Love Actually. The ref to him being arrested while buying groceries is a reference to V for Vendetta.
A scream shot through the still night air. Harry stumbled toward the sound. The moon and stars were blocked by menacing, stormy clouds. Harry couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him. The ground was covered in what felt like logs. He stopped. The screams continued, but he couldn’t move. The logs were not logs, they were bodies. A cold sick feeling crept into his stomach, turning his insides to jelly. He ran, tripping every few feet over the corpses. The screams drew nearer. A bright green flash shot through the darkness, barely missing him. Harry reached for his wand, but it wasn’t there. The next burst of light was coming straight at him.
BANG!
Harry jerked awake to find himself on the floor of his office. He had dozed off doing paperwork and fell out of his chair. The dream lingered on the fringe of his mind, evoking memories of the war. He shook his head to clear it and clambered to his feet. His hand rubbed fitfully at his scar, an old habit he couldn’t break. It never hurt anymore, not since the night he killed Voldemort. That had been nearly ten years ago.
He felt for his wand and, on finding it exactly where it should be, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The papers on his desk were scattered and a few had drool on them. He had just finished tidying them when Kingsley let himself into the office. It had been his before the promotion to Head of Magical Law Enforcement.
“Not interrupting you am I, Harry?” Kingsley asked.
“No, sir. What can I do for you?”
“I just came to tell you that we finally caught him.”
Harry stared at Kingsley.
“Where? When? How?” Harry felt his throat tighten. He had hoped, in the darkest part of his mind, that this day would never come. His ears were ringing, and he realized it was because he had stopped breathing. He sucked in the cool office air, letting it slow the pounding of his heart. Kingsley watched him with no small amount of concern.
“Blair and Turner picked him up just outside of Dublin. He was buying groceries, and a witch who had him for a teacher recognized him and reported it. He’s in an interrogation room downstairs. Harry, are you all right?”
“Fine. Can I be in the room when he is interrogated?”
“Well, it would be hard for you to question him otherwise.” Kingsley tossed a thick manila folder on Harry’s desk and walked out.
Harry flipped open the file to find a lengthy arrest report and a full history, as well as the charges/allegations sheet. He took a deep breath and began making a note of questions he had to ask based off the sheet.
Severus Snape is
Charged with; based on:
Aiding and abetting a group dedicated to organized crime/organized malicious acts; testimony of members of this group: G. Goyle, V. Crabbe, N. Malfoy, L. Malfoy, D, Malfoy, R. Lestrange, P. Parkinson, M. Bulstrode, A. Rookwood, W. Macnair
Being a member of a group dedicated to organized crime/organized malicious acts; in possession of an easily visible tattoo (left forearm) indicating membership and testimony of above list of known members.
Creating, using, and teaching others to use potions and spells that were not approved by the Ministry; testimony of above as well as H. Potter, H. Granger, R. Weasley, N. Longbottom, L. Lovegood, G. Weasley, F. Weasley, N. Tonks, R. Lupin, K. Shacklebolt (other testimonies from numerous verified sources)
Accused of; based on
Murder of Albus Dumbledore; testimony of D. Malfoy and H. Potter
Murder of countless individuals during The Great Battle and while in the course of activities preformed by the group mentioned above (known as Death Eaters); testimony of all individuals listed above and others (see records for full list)
The sheet was shorter than some. Most of the Death Eaters brought in were accused of murdering specific victims. Harry finished his notes and went down to the detainment wing. He tried to keep his mind free of the personal thoughts that would cloud his judgment. The last thing he needed was to act like a teenager while he was questioning Snape.
The guard on duty let him into the correct room-at least he thought so. The room had a long table sitting directly in front of the door, with chairs on either side. One chair sat empty, waiting for Harry.
The man sitting, chained, on the other side of table was not Professor Snape, the Potions Master. This man’s hair was short, fluffy and light brown, not greasy jet black. He had a light tan, like someone who worked in their garden a few times a week. His eyes were closed behind his square black spectacles. The glasses made his nose seem much smaller. The heather blue cardigan he was wearing, over a red plaid, button-up shirt, hung, baggy around his arms and shoulders, but stretched across his plump abdomen. His khaki slacks stopped just above his ankles, revealing charcoal and red argyle socks. He had on tan tassel loafers. This man had to be a Muggle; he couldn’t be Snape.
The door clicked closed behind Harry, and the man opened his eyes. They were nearly black, and Harry recognized them instantly. How often had he stared into those eyes while he was in school? Harry settled himself in the chair opposite the man.
“You are Severus Snape?”
“Obviously,” came the cool response from Snape. The voice had lost some of its melody over the years, but it still cut through Harry. He shifted uncomfortably and avoided looking at Snape.
“Do you know why you are here?”
Snape made a disgusted noise in his throat. “Do you, Potter?”
“You are accused of murder, which I know you to be guilty of, and being a Death Eater, which you cannot deny.”
“So disappointing. After all these years I would have thought you would have acquired some intelligence, but now I see that is impossible. You really are just like your father. You are a murderer as much as I am, but just as when I was younger, the Potter goes free and I am punished.” Harry met his eyes. The calm in Snape’s features was an eerie sight. There was no malice in those eyes, but they burned with a self-righteous fire.
“You are given the option of confessing your crimes and victims for a reduced sentence and leniency in your trial. Do you wish to confess?”
“No.”
“Noted. You will go on trial for the murder of Albus Dumbledore and murderous acts against victims unknown. Is there anything you would like to have presented to the Wizengamot on your behalf before the trial?”
“No.”
“Noted. You have already been convicted of being a Death Eater and a supporter of the Death Eater organization. That sentence will be held until the trial for your other crimes. Where you informed of this?”
“I was.”
“Noted.” Harry looked back at Snape. “Now, I’m going to ask you questions concerning the illegal potions you brewed on behalf of Voldemort.” Snape gave a curt nod, pursing his lips. “Were there antidotes created for any of them?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Snape snorted at the question. “Why? Why do you think the Dark Lord wouldn’t want antidotes to poisons he had made to use on his victims?” Snape’s voice lowered to a hissing venom. The woman who had recognized him must have heard this voice. It took Harry back to Hogwarts and the hours spent in the dungeons with this man.
“Are you really that inapt?” Snape spit the words at him. “Your fame is the only reason you keep this job. Did you request to question me, or was it assigned to you? You requested it, and it was handed to you, just like everything else. Why don’t you ask me your real question, Potter? The reason you’re really here with me. Even with your thick skull, you must know deep down that what you saw on that tower was not cold-blooded murder.”
Harry felt the fury bubble in him. “You killed him. I saw it. Malfoy saw it,” he shouted.
“Not all things are black or white, Potter. Some are a subtle shade of grey, but you always were a blunt idiot. You never concerned yourself with details; those were the worries of lesser mortals.”
“FINE!” Harry yelled, leaning across the table into Snape’s face. “Tell me how you were the victim. How Malfoy’s mum forced your hand. You can’t make me feel sympathy for you.” They stared at each other, neither daring to blink. Snape growled.
“My hand was forced, but not by Narcissa.” His voice was steady and almost a whisper. Harry sat down, but his eyes never left Snape’s. “Dumbledore made me kill him. We had agreed at the beginning of the first term of the year that if his health should continue to fail, I should kill him. The fight at the Ministry early that summer had left him weakened - and destroying the Slytherin ring had added to that. He was running out of Elixir and-”
“You mean the Elixir of Life. But I don’t understand.”
“A simpleton like you wouldn’t. He had been alive for many years longer than he should have been because of that elixir, and it was running out. He was dying, Potter. Whatever happened to him while trying to get the locket-” Harry started to interrupt. “Yes, I know what you two were doing. He told me everything about it, because he expected the locket to affect him just as adversely as the ring had. I was the one helping him to stretch the elixir. I was keeping him alive. What he went through in that cave was torturing him. You were there, Potter. He begged me to kill him.”
“No, he tried to get you to stop,” Harry shouted vehemently.
“Have you ever actually paid attention to anything in your entire life that didn’t involve people flying around, chasing balls?” Snape glared. “All of that was right in front of you and you saw nothing.”
“I saw everything, and you are going to pay for killing him.” Harry stormed out of the room.
He paced in his office. His mind was full of hate, anger, and a lingering doubt. He kicked the desk and debated on going to see Hermione. She would be busy. He thought about it for a minute…and it came to him. Professor Lupin wouldn’t be busy. McGonagall had made him DADA teacher again and he was on winter break. Harry flooed his office.
“Hi Harry. What’s wrong?” Remus asked his face twisted with concern. Harry told him everything. He didn’t care if he did get in trouble for it - besides, he knew Remus wouldn’t tell anyone. When Harry had finished, Remus was unreadable, lost in thought.
“Harry, I hate to say this, but Snape was never one to tell an outright lie. What if everything he says is true?”
“But we can’t know that. What should I do? I’m the one whose testimony could get Snape imprisoned. I think he belongs there, but not if it’s something he didn’t do.”
“What you say could get him Kissed. Harry, I know you hate him, but if I were in your shoes I’d make sure what he told you today is heard at that trial. At least then what happens to him won’t be entirely on you.”
“Thanks, Professor.”
***
Mercy or Murder?
Luna Lovegood
This is what the Wizengamot asked themselves as Severus
Snape stood before them. “He was a menace to his students
and a Death Eater to boot,” says Neville Longbottom, 28
of Lewiston. “I didn’t expect this to be that hard of decision
for them to make.”
But it was a hard decision, and after months of debating,
they have finally reached a verdict. Severus Snape will
receive twenty years in prison for assisted suicide, aiding
and abetting murderers, and the creation and use of illegal
potions and spells.
Harry Potter, Auror, spoke both for and against Snape
and was instrumental in ensuring that he would be given the
opportunity of parole after just five years. This is much
sooner than would be normal in a case such as this, but Potter
assured the Wizengamot that if Snape were paroled he would
personally keep watch over him.
Recipient: Deianaera
Characters: Snape, Harry, Remus, Kingsley
Fic or Art: Fic
Warnings: None given
Summary: None given
Notes: The image of Snape dressed Muggle came from Rickman in Love Actually. The ref to him being arrested while buying groceries is a reference to V for Vendetta.
A scream shot through the still night air. Harry stumbled toward the sound. The moon and stars were blocked by menacing, stormy clouds. Harry couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him. The ground was covered in what felt like logs. He stopped. The screams continued, but he couldn’t move. The logs were not logs, they were bodies. A cold sick feeling crept into his stomach, turning his insides to jelly. He ran, tripping every few feet over the corpses. The screams drew nearer. A bright green flash shot through the darkness, barely missing him. Harry reached for his wand, but it wasn’t there. The next burst of light was coming straight at him.
BANG!
Harry jerked awake to find himself on the floor of his office. He had dozed off doing paperwork and fell out of his chair. The dream lingered on the fringe of his mind, evoking memories of the war. He shook his head to clear it and clambered to his feet. His hand rubbed fitfully at his scar, an old habit he couldn’t break. It never hurt anymore, not since the night he killed Voldemort. That had been nearly ten years ago.
He felt for his wand and, on finding it exactly where it should be, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The papers on his desk were scattered and a few had drool on them. He had just finished tidying them when Kingsley let himself into the office. It had been his before the promotion to Head of Magical Law Enforcement.
“Not interrupting you am I, Harry?” Kingsley asked.
“No, sir. What can I do for you?”
“I just came to tell you that we finally caught him.”
Harry stared at Kingsley.
“Where? When? How?” Harry felt his throat tighten. He had hoped, in the darkest part of his mind, that this day would never come. His ears were ringing, and he realized it was because he had stopped breathing. He sucked in the cool office air, letting it slow the pounding of his heart. Kingsley watched him with no small amount of concern.
“Blair and Turner picked him up just outside of Dublin. He was buying groceries, and a witch who had him for a teacher recognized him and reported it. He’s in an interrogation room downstairs. Harry, are you all right?”
“Fine. Can I be in the room when he is interrogated?”
“Well, it would be hard for you to question him otherwise.” Kingsley tossed a thick manila folder on Harry’s desk and walked out.
Harry flipped open the file to find a lengthy arrest report and a full history, as well as the charges/allegations sheet. He took a deep breath and began making a note of questions he had to ask based off the sheet.
Severus Snape is
Charged with; based on:
Aiding and abetting a group dedicated to organized crime/organized malicious acts; testimony of members of this group: G. Goyle, V. Crabbe, N. Malfoy, L. Malfoy, D, Malfoy, R. Lestrange, P. Parkinson, M. Bulstrode, A. Rookwood, W. Macnair
Being a member of a group dedicated to organized crime/organized malicious acts; in possession of an easily visible tattoo (left forearm) indicating membership and testimony of above list of known members.
Creating, using, and teaching others to use potions and spells that were not approved by the Ministry; testimony of above as well as H. Potter, H. Granger, R. Weasley, N. Longbottom, L. Lovegood, G. Weasley, F. Weasley, N. Tonks, R. Lupin, K. Shacklebolt (other testimonies from numerous verified sources)
Accused of; based on
Murder of Albus Dumbledore; testimony of D. Malfoy and H. Potter
Murder of countless individuals during The Great Battle and while in the course of activities preformed by the group mentioned above (known as Death Eaters); testimony of all individuals listed above and others (see records for full list)
The sheet was shorter than some. Most of the Death Eaters brought in were accused of murdering specific victims. Harry finished his notes and went down to the detainment wing. He tried to keep his mind free of the personal thoughts that would cloud his judgment. The last thing he needed was to act like a teenager while he was questioning Snape.
The guard on duty let him into the correct room-at least he thought so. The room had a long table sitting directly in front of the door, with chairs on either side. One chair sat empty, waiting for Harry.
The man sitting, chained, on the other side of table was not Professor Snape, the Potions Master. This man’s hair was short, fluffy and light brown, not greasy jet black. He had a light tan, like someone who worked in their garden a few times a week. His eyes were closed behind his square black spectacles. The glasses made his nose seem much smaller. The heather blue cardigan he was wearing, over a red plaid, button-up shirt, hung, baggy around his arms and shoulders, but stretched across his plump abdomen. His khaki slacks stopped just above his ankles, revealing charcoal and red argyle socks. He had on tan tassel loafers. This man had to be a Muggle; he couldn’t be Snape.
The door clicked closed behind Harry, and the man opened his eyes. They were nearly black, and Harry recognized them instantly. How often had he stared into those eyes while he was in school? Harry settled himself in the chair opposite the man.
“You are Severus Snape?”
“Obviously,” came the cool response from Snape. The voice had lost some of its melody over the years, but it still cut through Harry. He shifted uncomfortably and avoided looking at Snape.
“Do you know why you are here?”
Snape made a disgusted noise in his throat. “Do you, Potter?”
“You are accused of murder, which I know you to be guilty of, and being a Death Eater, which you cannot deny.”
“So disappointing. After all these years I would have thought you would have acquired some intelligence, but now I see that is impossible. You really are just like your father. You are a murderer as much as I am, but just as when I was younger, the Potter goes free and I am punished.” Harry met his eyes. The calm in Snape’s features was an eerie sight. There was no malice in those eyes, but they burned with a self-righteous fire.
“You are given the option of confessing your crimes and victims for a reduced sentence and leniency in your trial. Do you wish to confess?”
“No.”
“Noted. You will go on trial for the murder of Albus Dumbledore and murderous acts against victims unknown. Is there anything you would like to have presented to the Wizengamot on your behalf before the trial?”
“No.”
“Noted. You have already been convicted of being a Death Eater and a supporter of the Death Eater organization. That sentence will be held until the trial for your other crimes. Where you informed of this?”
“I was.”
“Noted.” Harry looked back at Snape. “Now, I’m going to ask you questions concerning the illegal potions you brewed on behalf of Voldemort.” Snape gave a curt nod, pursing his lips. “Were there antidotes created for any of them?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Snape snorted at the question. “Why? Why do you think the Dark Lord wouldn’t want antidotes to poisons he had made to use on his victims?” Snape’s voice lowered to a hissing venom. The woman who had recognized him must have heard this voice. It took Harry back to Hogwarts and the hours spent in the dungeons with this man.
“Are you really that inapt?” Snape spit the words at him. “Your fame is the only reason you keep this job. Did you request to question me, or was it assigned to you? You requested it, and it was handed to you, just like everything else. Why don’t you ask me your real question, Potter? The reason you’re really here with me. Even with your thick skull, you must know deep down that what you saw on that tower was not cold-blooded murder.”
Harry felt the fury bubble in him. “You killed him. I saw it. Malfoy saw it,” he shouted.
“Not all things are black or white, Potter. Some are a subtle shade of grey, but you always were a blunt idiot. You never concerned yourself with details; those were the worries of lesser mortals.”
“FINE!” Harry yelled, leaning across the table into Snape’s face. “Tell me how you were the victim. How Malfoy’s mum forced your hand. You can’t make me feel sympathy for you.” They stared at each other, neither daring to blink. Snape growled.
“My hand was forced, but not by Narcissa.” His voice was steady and almost a whisper. Harry sat down, but his eyes never left Snape’s. “Dumbledore made me kill him. We had agreed at the beginning of the first term of the year that if his health should continue to fail, I should kill him. The fight at the Ministry early that summer had left him weakened - and destroying the Slytherin ring had added to that. He was running out of Elixir and-”
“You mean the Elixir of Life. But I don’t understand.”
“A simpleton like you wouldn’t. He had been alive for many years longer than he should have been because of that elixir, and it was running out. He was dying, Potter. Whatever happened to him while trying to get the locket-” Harry started to interrupt. “Yes, I know what you two were doing. He told me everything about it, because he expected the locket to affect him just as adversely as the ring had. I was the one helping him to stretch the elixir. I was keeping him alive. What he went through in that cave was torturing him. You were there, Potter. He begged me to kill him.”
“No, he tried to get you to stop,” Harry shouted vehemently.
“Have you ever actually paid attention to anything in your entire life that didn’t involve people flying around, chasing balls?” Snape glared. “All of that was right in front of you and you saw nothing.”
“I saw everything, and you are going to pay for killing him.” Harry stormed out of the room.
He paced in his office. His mind was full of hate, anger, and a lingering doubt. He kicked the desk and debated on going to see Hermione. She would be busy. He thought about it for a minute…and it came to him. Professor Lupin wouldn’t be busy. McGonagall had made him DADA teacher again and he was on winter break. Harry flooed his office.
“Hi Harry. What’s wrong?” Remus asked his face twisted with concern. Harry told him everything. He didn’t care if he did get in trouble for it - besides, he knew Remus wouldn’t tell anyone. When Harry had finished, Remus was unreadable, lost in thought.
“Harry, I hate to say this, but Snape was never one to tell an outright lie. What if everything he says is true?”
“But we can’t know that. What should I do? I’m the one whose testimony could get Snape imprisoned. I think he belongs there, but not if it’s something he didn’t do.”
“What you say could get him Kissed. Harry, I know you hate him, but if I were in your shoes I’d make sure what he told you today is heard at that trial. At least then what happens to him won’t be entirely on you.”
“Thanks, Professor.”
***
Mercy or Murder?
Luna Lovegood
This is what the Wizengamot asked themselves as Severus
Snape stood before them. “He was a menace to his students
and a Death Eater to boot,” says Neville Longbottom, 28
of Lewiston. “I didn’t expect this to be that hard of decision
for them to make.”
But it was a hard decision, and after months of debating,
they have finally reached a verdict. Severus Snape will
receive twenty years in prison for assisted suicide, aiding
and abetting murderers, and the creation and use of illegal
potions and spells.
Harry Potter, Auror, spoke both for and against Snape
and was instrumental in ensuring that he would be given the
opportunity of parole after just five years. This is much
sooner than would be normal in a case such as this, but Potter
assured the Wizengamot that if Snape were paroled he would
personally keep watch over him.