Susan and Draco's engagement went ordinarily. The magic didn't give us any strong sensations—a pity, but logical, no one's planning to make an heir right now. For three seconds magical bracelets flashed gold on the betrothed couple's wrists and absorbed into their skin. You couldn't tell from Narcissa whether she approved of Susan or not, no wonder Suze was timid. But I think if she didn't approve, she would have let her son know. Malfoy Manor had already been restored, but part of the artworks and portraits of relatives were lost forever. And there are no white peacocks now, the Death Eaters killed the birds, and Narcissa doesn't plan to get new ones in the near future.
I spent the night at the Malfoys', and the next morning I woke very early, before six. I decided not to waste time and went to explore the library, since yesterday they'd offered me to make myself at home. Maybe I'd make copies of some books.
I had just reached to pull a book about soul migration from the shelf when I heard some sound behind me. I quickly turned and saw a person who definitely wasn't Narcissa, Suze, or Draco, my wand jumped into my hand by itself, and I cast Stupefy before I could think. The stranger fell. On closer inspection, it turned out to be Theodore Nott. Hadn't he heard me come in? Though I'd unconsciously tried to be quiet, since it was still very early. Now it's clear why Snape visited Narcissa after Voldemort's death. He wanted to protect his student from Azkaban. I try to summon Nott's wand with Accio, but nothing works. I cast Enervate on him.
Nott jerks, instinctively reaches for his holster, then remembers something and looks at me angrily.
"Granger! What the hell are you doing up so early?!"
"Good morning to you too. Sorry, no one told me the library was off-limits in the mornings."
At this Nott decided there had been enough talking, and that he could handle it without a wand, and rushed at me. I had to bind him and levitate him into a chair.
"And what were you planning to do? Kill me as an unnecessary witness?"
"No! I'm not a murderer! But they want to lock me in Azkaban for life! I just wanted to erase your memory with your wand," Nott fidgeted.
"Does Susan know about you already?"
"..." Nott tries to master the ancient technique of killing with a look.
I see, the conversation can't continue like this. I sigh:
"Actually, I'm not planning to turn you in. You don't deserve lifelong torture by Dementors just for pointing a wand at Dumbledore for a few minutes. Or did you manage to kill a bunch of people after that?"
"I didn't kill anyone," Nott mutters. But he averts his eyes. Either he did kill after all or did something else bad. Unlikely of his own free will.
"How about you promise not to attack me, and I'll untie you?"
After a minute of silence, Theo grimly promises, though there's no guarantee he won't try. I'll untie him, but I'll be on guard.
"If you didn't kill, you should hire a lawyer too. Yes, you were a Death Eater, but you can't say you really had a choice."
"Don't you understand?! I wanted to kill the greatest wizard of modern times! I participated in planning his murder! I'll never agree to appear in court! The lawyer might not succeed, and then straight from the courtroom I'll end up in the Dementors' hands!"
"Snape will be tried without Snape himself."
"Didn't Draco tell you how much that cost them? And Snape's already with them! In my case no amount of money would be enough."
Yes, probably he's right. In his case it would be more correct to leave the country and get plastic surgery, sealing fresh stitches with star anise extract. He could even get married, taking his wife's surname. Then he could even swear by magic that he's Theodore with a different surname. Complete truth isn't needed for a magical oath, the main thing is to believe yourself that you're telling the truth. Otherwise many wizards would get backlashes just because they were wrong about something or misunderstood. For example, a wizard gives his friend an oath that he'll help his son. And implies that if necessary he'll protect, heal, give shelter. That means it's precisely in this that he must help, so as not to break the oath. If he doesn't help his friend's son get Outstanding on his O.W.L.s and get a job at the Ministry, there'll be no backlash. The friend's son at that moment may think that help should consist of a tidy sum monthly, and if not—the oath is broken. But what difference does it make what he thinks, he wasn't the one who swore. He wasn't the one who put intention into the words.
It's impossible to get a backlash if you sincerely believe you haven't broken your obligations. I suspect it was precisely on this sincere belief that Dumbledore held on. He, as headmaster, took on certain obligations, and in canon even for the basilisk and petrified children nothing happened to him. That means he convinced himself he'd done everything right then.
Therefore in business agreements, contracts drawn up by lawyers are most often magically sealed. Many clauses and sub-clauses. You can break them, but for that you need to be able to manipulate your own consciousness at the level of Dumbledore himself, most wizards can't do that.
Theodore isn't my friend, they'll tell him about possible options without me. Probably.
"Planning to hide at the Malfoys' your whole life?"
Theo bristled.
"What else can I do? Draco promised to convince his fiancée to keep quiet. I planned not to show myself for a couple more days while he prepares everything. And what the hell brought you to the library?!"
"Pff, if I wanted to turn you in, I would have immobilized you and traveled with you by Floo straight to the Ministry. Right now the exit Floo isn't blocked."
Nott deflated all at once and plopped into the chair. I sat in the neighboring one. And what should we talk about?
"I wish I knew where my brother is now? What's happening with him?"
"Edward's healthy. Good thing at that age children don't understand anything yet. He's fine," I say carefully. Edward is with Andromeda now, but I'm not sure that's worth mentioning. Later they'll find him another family anyway, because Andromeda is planning to live with her daughter for a while, and Nymphadora doesn't want to see Edward.
"Fine? I doubt it, with such a mother!" Theo answered with hatred.
"Do you think you'd behave differently in Nymphadora's place and love the child with all your heart?" I said aggressively, "you have no idea what she had to go through! And you have no right to judge her. In any case, Sirius Black promised that the child won't need anything, he has Black blood in him, no one will abandon him to fate."
"I could take care of my brother myself."
"But for that you'd have to prove your innocence in court. How else do you imagine it?"
Nott turned away. Apparently, not at all.
"You'll probably still have a chance to meet your brother later, when everything settles down. Don't worry, no one will hurt him."
Theo grumbled that that wasn't a fact and Potter was proof. Interesting, how does he know about Potter?
At that moment Narcissa flew into the library in a robe, hair uncombed. It turned out the elf Pinky had informed her that in the library "the guest is conversing with the guest who is hiding." Seeing that we weren't killing each other but sitting and talking, she hastily retreated to tidy herself up.
After breakfast, which Theodore didn't attend, I tried to leave the manor quickly. The lovebirds were cooing and planning their future family life, pleasant to watch, though I was still surprised how such different people came together. But Narcissa returned to the topic of the trial again. Everything had long been discussed and planned, Mr. Lolley had drunk liters of my blood, though he claimed it was the other way around. Now all that remained was to be nervous, and I preferred to do that without Narcissa.
***
Today we're performing surgery on Alice Longbottom. We. The Healer Smethwyck and I are assisting André. He arrived several days ago. The first time André entered St. Mungo's as if onto enemy territory, and walked as if he might step on a mine or catch a bullet—that is, a curse—at any moment. How will he operate in such a state? And how did he even agree? I understand, Healer Smethwyck could convince even a dead man, but honestly, it seems convincing a dead man would be easier.
Everything turned out not so bad, after some time André got into it, and he himself became interested in seeing it through. While we were preparing, I wasn't very nervous, but yesterday evening I could only fall asleep after Somnium, and today I'm so scared my legs are giving way.
Our operating room looks like a hybrid of Muggle and magical. Here are absolutely Muggle surgical instruments on a tray, and above us magical lighting burns. On the walls, floor, ceiling of the room are runic chains that will contain the patient's elemental magic. Possibly not completely, but the runic protection won't allow killing someone in the operating room. Lord, can we cancel everything while it's not too late? I peer hopefully into the men's determined faces, but my tongue won't turn to voice my cowardly wish. Alice's hair was removed with a potion, she drank Draught of Living Death, André fixed her head—it's about to begin.
After Smethwyck magically performed the skull trepanation, I was finally able to pull myself together and clearly execute André's commands. I managed to fuse small vessels even without spells, only with my gift, thanks to Doctor Defosse I'd learned to control it fairly well. For the first time I learned how André could swear, when in the middle of the operation the runic protection couldn't completely cope with Alice's magic, and wind began roaming the room, and instruments started jumping on the tray. After some time it rapidly began to darken in the operating room, darkness swirled in the corners and slowly approached the center. Smethwyck also swore and poured additional magic into the lighting. One of the instruments twisted into a spiral right in André's hand, good thing there were spares. Lord, he won't run away in the middle of the operation, I don't know anything yet. But André saw the operation through to the end, not stopping swearing. I healed the internal membranes of the brain with magic, and there wasn't a trace of the skin scar left after star anise extract, Healer Smethwyck carefully fed unconscious Alice Skele-Gro to heal the skull. At the end of the operation all three were so wet as if they'd been in a bathhouse. I dreamed of a calming draught, Smethwyck was checking the patient's condition with spells, André was muttering under his breath that he never again, not for anything, not even for all the women in the world, and that today he was getting drunk.
Outside the operating room door we found pale Neville. We reassured him that everything went successfully, Alice was still sleeping, but we'd return for her awakening. Elves moved our patient to her room, where a duty healer would watch over her, and Neville went there on his own.
As soon as Neville left, André demanded in a hoarse voice to quickly Apparate him away from here. Good thing he doesn't mind Apparition. Sometimes it seems to me that it's precisely this aspect that reconciles him with my magic—the ability to instantly get somewhere. I moved us to his hotel room. André immediately took a bottle from the minibar and poured himself a full glass. Looked at me and drank it in one gulp. Yes, magic getting out of control is always scary, even for more prepared people.
André poured himself more but didn't drink, put the glass on the table and started pacing the room. At some point he suddenly stumbled, as if he'd crashed full speed into a wall, exhaled and said almost calmly:
"I'm sorry, I can't do this. I tried to get used to it. I have no right to demand that you leave the magical world. And I can't become part of it. It's not even that you're a witch yourself. I wouldn't want to date a firefighter girl or a girl with contracts in hot spots either. Waiting for her to return, and understanding that each time she might not return. And I can't protect her from danger in any way. And for you wizards, your whole world is dangerous. What happened today... it's too much for me. I really tried, Hermione! But sometimes love alone isn't enough for everything to work out."
I just got dumped. I don't even know what to say. Because I feel there's a lot of truth in André's words. These aren't just emotions in the heat of the moment. A relationship between a wizard and an ordinary person has little chance of success from the start. But it hurts...
"If the patient has problems, you can always contact me," André added reluctantly, "but I think you'll manage further on your own, everything heals quickly on wizards."
I silently look at him for a minute. And Apparate.
The next couple of hours I walked along the coast. There was a strong wind, the sea was raging, and it was pleasant to watch. By Alice's awakening I was able to more or less pull myself together, pushing my emotions into a far drawer.
***
In the evening Alice opened her eyes, blinked, stopped her gaze on Neville, who was holding her hand.
"Mum," he whispered.
"Neville?" Alice said in a hoarse uncertain voice.
Doctor Smethwyck and I once again cast diagnostic spells. The diagnostics showed that the patient had magical exhaustion, and nothing else bad.
"Mum! Mummy!" my friend cried.
Alice sat up and reached out her hands to her son.
"Neville," she repeated more firmly and hugged him.
Mother and son hugged and continued calling each other.
Augusta sobbed, forgetting etiquette, I was crying too, Smethwyck was wiping tears with a handkerchief. After some time Alice and Neville were able to tear themselves away from each other, though they continued holding hands. Neville tried to talk with his mum, but Alice smiled silently, listening to her son, stroking his cheek and somehow apologetically shaking her head at questioning intonation. Doctor Smethwyck asked for the staff Legilimens, who had specially stayed late this evening, to check Alice. It turned out that Alice perceived surrounding reality normally, but remembered absolutely nothing except that Neville was her son and she loved him. She'd have to learn everything anew. The miracle didn't turn out one hundred percent, but Neville still looks happy. Augusta is also overflowing with emotions. Probably she's already thinking about Frank. But it's too early to talk about the next operation in any case, first we need to see what will happen with Alice.
***
The next day Neville and Augusta fussed around Alice. Neville's mum had to be taught to button buttons, tie shoelaces, flush the toilet after herself, wash hands, hold a spoon—she reached to eat with her hands... But she learned quickly, much faster than a child. Alice had already learned several words. No, I won't give myself false hope in advance... Healer Smethwyck was impatient to know how things stood with the patient's magic, but he restrained himself. First Alice must learn to speak.
Neville thanked me for a long time and said he'd do anything for me. He wanted to thank André and declare officially that the Longbottom family was in debt to the Ledoux family, so he was upset when I said André had already left. Never mind, he'd write a letter, though I suspect André needs that like a fish needs an umbrella. And only Healer Smethwyck won't receive any special thanks from the Longbottom family, after all Alice is his patient, he gets paid for her treatment.
After breaking up with André I moved back to my room at the Blacks'. Rita reported bad news. They couldn't help Harry in South America, and they went to the Land of the Rising Sun. In Japan a dark healer was able to determine that Harry had a Horcrux, and the Horcrux had begun to awaken. But he couldn't get rid of it by any acceptable method. And said it was impossible in principle. There's one method—create a Horcrux of Potter himself, then kill Harry's body with the remaining half of the soul, the foreign Horcrux will be destroyed at the same time. And then revive Harry from his Horcrux. After that for fifty years Harry mustn't create new ones, so the soul can recover.
Naturally, Sirius and Harry were horrified by such suggestions and refused. The healer shrugged and indifferently advised not to seek help from Russian wizards. In Rus' after Koschei the Deathless the attitude toward Horcruxes is biased, and there Harry will be killed along with the Horcrux immediately, as soon as they understand what's going on. Then the healer told Harry to leave and warned Sirius that if the patient is killed by magic, his body will be occupied by a settler—provided the Horcrux's owner is already dead. And Harry's soul will go to reincarnation. Therefore Sirius must be careful and not miss if someone else turns out to be nearby instead of his godson.
So Black dragged Harry to shamans somewhere in Tanzania. But if they can't help there either, then no options will remain except the Japanese one.
The next day Alice said: "Hello, Hermione," when I entered the ward. She was dressed in a fancy robe and was clumsily combing her hair, which had grown to mid-shoulder blades. That's approximately two doses of hair growth potion. Neville was looking at his mum with adoration. Healer Smethwyck said that Alice had already learned about a hundred words, recognized Neville, Augusta, me, Smethwyck himself. She didn't like Frank. Augusta led her daughter-in-law to her husband, Alice remembered the name, but preferred to look at him as little as possible. Frank lies here on the neighboring bed. Today Neville and the healer are taking Alice to the hospital café. Primarily to see how the patient reacts to other people and a change of environment. There are usually few visitors, so the healer hopes they won't frighten Alice.
***
Before the trial Narcissa and I drank a calming draught. Good stuff, despite the atmosphere of almost universal hostility, I'm not nervous at all. Too bad it couldn't be done before the operation.
The judge was Eugenia Jenkins, she held the post of Minister of Magic even before the first war with Voldemort. And if my memory serves me, she was a reasonable politician—that's a plus, but she resigned because of Voldemort and is unlikely to be unbiased toward Death Eaters—that's a minus.
On the defense witness bench sit I, the Malfoys, Luna, Rita. Susan had to sit separately, she's not a witness. Rita doesn't waste time, continues mentally dictating something to her Quick-Quotes Quill, and waves her hand at her photographer so he doesn't forget to shoot. Spectators look at our bench with the gazes of hungry piranhas. In the sea of condemnation I catch out individual encouraging looks. Cedric Diggory waved his hand in greeting from the back rows. Not because he believes in Snape's innocence, but because Suze and I are Hufflepuffs, our own. Neville also came for my sake, despite his hatred of Snape. I think he believes I'm sincerely mistaken, and wants to support me when this comes out. Pomona Sprout managed to approach us before the trial and tried to calm the former students a bit, but now she herself can't sit still from agitation. Flitwick sits next to her, you can't tell from his face what he thinks. But Minerva McGonagall pursed her lips disapprovingly, meeting my gaze. I noticed the Weasley family too, most of them seem not to care about the trial, they're calmly talking among themselves. But Molly definitely wants to kill everyone on our bench. And Ron looks as if at a new manifestation of Voldemort.
Ginny looks puzzled. Sirius told that once a love potion was discovered in Harry's drink. After analysis it turned out it should have made him fall for Ginny. Molly confessed that she brewed it, but wasn't ashamed. Supposedly the kids love each other anyway, they just need to be pushed a little, and besides, Albus approved of her. She refused to explain about Albus, and deciding that the best defense is offense, began accusing Sirius of all sins. But Ginny later asked Harry's forgiveness, and they managed to restore their friendship, despite this unpleasant incident. Ginny is now dating Dean Thomas again, they'll go to seventh year together, since last year Dean had to skip, he was on the run because he had no proof of his half-blood status.
The trial began. Mr. Lolley delivered a speech asserting that Snape initially became a Death Eater at Albus Dumbledore's request. That he was always faithful to Albus Dumbledore—an unbending fighter for the common good, an irreplaceable spy and so on. And even his own death was planned by the already dying Dumbledore himself, to provide Voldemort with iron proof of Snape's loyalty. A large part of his words was completely unsubstantiated, another part was outright lies. But part of his claims could be proven, and there remained hope that in the court's eyes this would be enough. Trials among wizards most often happen on the principle of: who out-talks whom. Even obvious violations of laws can be ignored if you manage to prove it was justified, and impress the judges. Therefore sophist rides casuist and drives demagogue.
The reaction to the lawyer's speech was stormy. The crowd murmured, and Molly Weasley at the full power of her vocal cords began shouting that we were vile liars, desecrating everything holy in this world. For which she received a Silencio from Jenkins herself, with a warning that next time she'd be removed from the hall.
The time for evidence came.
Our memories were demonstrated in a huge Pensieve. You didn't have to dip your head into it, the whole hall could see the memory in the mist above the basin. Without the effect of presence, but later those who wished could dive into a regular Pensieve and look from all sides. The judge was given a conclusion about their authenticity.
In Rita's, Narcissa's, Draco's memories were rare meetings with Snape in the house on Grimmauld. This part didn't especially impress anyone, since it was believed that Snape was then pretending to be a supporter of the headmaster. But the lawyer emphasized that Snape had many opportunities to kill Harry, and many others from the Order, even then.
Luna in her memories showed how Snape hid her from Voldemort. And most importantly, how Snape protected children at school. In her memory you could really see that Snape, risking his legend, covered unreasonable violators from the sadists the Carrows.
But the most important memories were mine. The hall gasped when the misty Snape gave an oath that he was planning to help Harry destroy Voldemort.
At that moment Molly screamed again that everything was staged and the experts were bought with Malfoy money, and she was removed from the hall.
The forensic experts aren't bought with Malfoy money, that's impossible in principle because of oaths. But the case review only happened because the Malfoys loosened their purse strings considerably. "For charity," of course. Draco has already said sadly to Susan many times that she's marrying a pauper.
There was also a memory of how Snape saves me from Malfoy Manor. Kills Death Eaters to save a student—so what kind of Death Eater is he after that? Exactly what he kills with, from my angle, wasn't visible. But even if with full immersion the Killing Curse will be noticeable, it doesn't matter anymore, he definitely killed Dumbledore with Avada. The law about Unforgivables was revised during wartime. It was implied only for Aurors, but the lawyer said that in this case in essence and form we get different things, and specifically Avada isn't the biggest problem in this case. Hmm... so my unsuccessful Imperius wasn't so criminal either? But still, good thing no one knows about it.
After that we answered several questions under Veritaserum. It's hard to argue with such testimony. We couldn't lie, and the fact that thanks to a skillfully compiled list we didn't say something—that's another question. The effect of the calming balm had long ended, but there was also no strength left to be nervous. From the judge's face it was completely unclear what she thought, however our revelations definitely shook the public. I mentally ask Luna what feelings the judge is experiencing now. Luna answers the same way that Eugenia Jenkins feels strong surprise and great doubt. The lawyer's closing speech was beautiful, about human sacrifice and selflessness. About unbending spirit and readiness to die for the victory of good. In my opinion, Mr. Lolley can hang noodles on ears better than Albus, he proved stunningly convincingly that the vague phrase from the letter: "If you are reading this letter, it means Severus has fulfilled my request, and I am no longer alive," implies precisely a request to help with euthanasia in such a strange way, and not something else. In my opinion, even Potter would have believed, despite all his hatred of Snape. Strictly speaking, euthanasia in such a variant is also illegal, because Snape isn't a healer, and there's no official proof that Dumbledore was dying. All hope is on Mr. Lolley's oratorical talent.
The court retires to deliberate.
During the break Neville, Cedric, Flitwick approached us—they believed. Pomona was practically sure even before the trial, she immediately decided that if Susan and I were asserting something, it wasn't groundless. Ginny went to badger Rita about what was happening with Harry now, and also ran into a short interview. We were tired, and Rita was fountaining with energy, probably already anticipating her future article. She'll write it with any outcome of the case.
After two hours the court delivered its verdict: Severus Tobias Snape is accused of using Unforgivables, but for courageous struggle against You-Know-Who, protection of his students and unshakable devotion to the Order of the Phoenix all his crimes are forgiven. Other charges dropped. The defendant will be released from Azkaban tomorrow.
An unimaginable hubbub rose in the hall. We won.