A Looping of the Scales ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 16 ~ Memories with a Twist

Snape returned to his quarters after warding the office door securely. He closed the wall behind him and slowly walked around the armchairs and stared down at the silver liquid churning in the small black bowl. His memories. Hermione had delivered.

He sat down in one of the armchairs, feeling his belly knot up as he considered whether or not he wanted to know the secrets he’d shared with Harry Potter. The former Headmaster’s portrait had asked him did he want the guilt back. What guilt? Dumbledore was the one who let Lily and her family die. He was the one who promised to protect them, but didn’t. And he was the one who turned him into a spy.

Snape’s dark eyes reflected the swirling liquid. Had Dumbledore used his guilt to make him a spy? But what could it be? Maybe the knowledge that he was associated with the wizard who killed her. Maybe that was the guilt. But, Snape thought he would feel more anger than guilt. He hadn’t pointed the wand after all.

Snape slowly picked up the Pensieve and set it in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he looked down into it.

He was on a windy hill. It was dark and thunder echoed as tree branches whipped back and forth. He saw himself, slightly older, his hair caught by the wind. He was looking around wildly, his wand drawn as he spun. Suddenly a bolt of what appeared to be lightning struck beside him, and Dumbledore appeared, looking both angry and stern as he lit the tip of his wand.

Snape watched himself fall to his knees before the wizard, losing his wand in the process. He looked nearly insane as he stared up at him.

“Don’t kill me!” he cried to Dumbledore, terror in his voice.

What? What was this? Why was he so afraid of the Headmaster? But Dumbledore did look cold and terrifying. Not the kind wizard that had walked the halls of Hogwarts handing out lemon drops

“That was not my intention,” Dumbledore replied, his robes whipping around him, his face illuminated from below by his wand. He cast a Silencing spell so the noise around them disappeared.

Snape listened to the conversation, unable to move.

“Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?”

“No—no message—I’m here on my own account! I—I come with a warning—no, a request—please—”

“What request could a Death Eater make of me?”

“The—the prophecy. . . the prediction. . . Trelawney. . . ”

“Ah, yes. How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?”

“Everything—everything I heard! That is why—it is for that reason—he thinks it means Lily Evans!”

“The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July—”

“You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down—kill them all—”

Snape’s heart thudded. It was him. He gave Tom Riddle information that made him target Lily for death. Both Lily and her son. It was his fault—all his fault.

Snape felt the guilt Dumbledore had warned him about, uncurling inside him, a misery so all-encompassing, it welled up from his very soul.

”No,” he breathed. “Lily—no.”

Suddenly everything in the Pensieve froze completely still, Snape’s kneeling form staring up at Dumbledore. Snape heard someone approaching.

”Hello, professor. I mean—Severus,” a voice said as a person moved into the light from Dumbledore’s wand. It was Harry Potter.

”I’m not really here,” Harry said, not looking at him because he had no idea where Snape would be standing in the Pensieve as he viewed it. Snape blinked at him. What was this? Why was Harry in the Pensieve?

”But, I thought that you needed someone to fill in the blanks. You’re at the part where you find out Voldemort targeted my family because of a prophecy you heard about a boy being born who could one day destroy him. You only heard part of it and told him about it. You didn’t know about me, Severus. And there were two boys born on July 31st. Me, and Neville Longbottom. Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed my parents. He told Voldemort when I was born and where my parents were hiding. Without Pettigrew giving him that information, he might have gone after Neville and his parents. It was Pettigrew, my father’s own friend, who betrayed them. Not you. And Peter put the blame on Sirius Black, then went into hiding.”

Snape stared at Harry. Peter Pettigrew? One of the Marauders? Then he framed Black?

Snape might have laughed if not for what his betrayal led to—Lily’s death. So much for all for one and one for all.

Harry continued.

”This Pensieve doesn’t have just your memories, but some of mine, too. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I can understand it in a way, but we both were kind of victims in this. I just want to make sure you don’t blame yourself for the things that happened. You spent a lot of time doing that. So, you’re going to see what I went through to, and it relates to you. I just wanted to—wanted to help. I’ll pop up here and there at parts you need to know more about. The Pensieve’s going to start again. Hermione helped me to do this. I couldn’t have done it by myself.”

Snape watched as Harry faded away, then the Pensieve began again. The feeling of guilt had lifted, and he watched the rest of the conversation with Dumbledore.

“If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?”

“I have—I have asked him—”

“You disgust me. You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?”

“Hide them all, then. Keep her—them—safe. Please.”

“And what will you give me in return, Severus?”

”Anything.”

So, that was it, was it? Dumbledore hid them in exchange for Snape doing a service for him. Some Gryffindor he was. If Snape hadn’t agreed to do anything, the Headmaster would have done nothing. In fact, he hadn’t done enough even after he agreed to do anything for him.

Suddenly the scene shifted and Snape was in the Headmaster’s office. He was dressed in staff robes and beside himself with grief. Dumbledore stood over him with a grim expression on his face, again, looking nothing like the benevolent wizard everyone believed him to be.

“I thought. . . you were going. . . to keep her. . . safe. . . ”

“She and James put their faith in the wrong person, rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her? Her boy survives. Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“DON’T! Gone. . . dead. . . ”

“Is this remorse, Severus?”

“I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . ”

“And what use would that be to anyone? If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.”

“What—what do you mean?”

“You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.”

“He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—”

“The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.”

“Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter’s son. . . I want your word!”

“My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you? If you insist. . . ”

Snape listened, affected by his despair at Lily’s death, but aware of how he was manipulated by Dumbledore. He’d agreed to protect Harry out of love for his mother. For Lily, but—he didn’t want anyone to know it. He was torn because he had hated James so much—maybe if Harry hadn’t been his son—it would have been an easier road to take.

Next, Snape saw tidbits of Harry’s life before Hogwarts. He was a mistreated boy, barely treated like a human being. The neglect wasn’t only physical, but emotional. Petunia and her family seemed to go out of their way to make him feel like less than nothing.

He was locked in a cupboard under the stairs, received less food than anyone else, wore hand-me-downs from his fat cousin, was left behind on family outings and received things like an old sock for birthdays. It would have been kinder to give him nothing at all.

Then there were the flashes of magic common with young wizards that enraged his aunt and uncle. They never told him he had magic. That he was a wizard. They even kept his letter from him, although a great effort was made to get one through. His uncle had run away with him to a broken shack on an island in the middle of a storm to try and keep him from the truth of who he was.

It was cruelty beyond cruelty. And to think, Petunia was Lily’s sister. How could she be so hateful to her sister’s only child?

Then Hagrid took him and informed him he was a wizard and he arrived at Hogwarts. Then it cut to the first potions class, and how Snape singled him out and embarrassed him, calling him a celebrity in a sneering voice, and telling him fame wasn’t everything—“

Snape swallowed as he watched himself berate the first year, feeling ashamed. He must not have known what Harry’s life had been like—

Then he was pacing in Dumbledore’s office. This was one of his own memories.

“—mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent—”

Apparently, he was talking about Harry.

“You see what you expect to see, Severus. Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child. Keep an eye on Quirrell, won’t you?”

Harry’s memories appeared again, showing Snape just why Dumbledore wanted Quirrel watched. He was possessed by Voldemort and had nearly killed Harry when the boy tried to stop him from getting the Philosopher’s Stone, something that would have brought Voldemort back.

Harry was only eleven years old when he met Voldemort in battle. Only eleven.

Snape had to admit, he was impressed. Very impressed. Harry was nothing but a child. Hermione was a very valuable addition to team Potter. She solved his potions puzzle. And her boyfriend Ron was a decent strategist for one so young.

He saw Harry’s other adventures too, and himself speaking up for him when he was accused of petrifying other students. Yes, he did try to protect him in his way, but no one would ever suspect it the way he targeted Harry. Like James had targeted him.

Snape saw Tom Riddle as a young memory, speak through a book, a diary to Harry, drawing him in and giving him tantalizing tidbits about a monster in the school. He shook his head in disbelief when Hermione turned herself into a cat-creature after imbibing Polyjuice potion. She managed to brew it correctly and was only in her second year. That was quite an accomplishment, although he could brew it in his first year.

He watched Harry not only battle and kill a full grown basilisk with nothing but a sword, but also destroy Riddle's memory by driving the basilisk's fang through the book itself. He had been bitten as well, and was willing to die to save the girl in the chamber. He was how old? Twelve? Merciful Merlin.

He then saw a very different Sirius Black. The once handsome wizard was drawn, gaunt and looked quite mad. He had escaped Azkaban and found Peter Pettigrew in the form of a rat hiding right under Harry Potter’s nose. Snape wondered if the wizard was loyal to Voldemort, why he didn’t kill Harry in revenge? He was around him enough to have done it.

Snape knew why. Pettigrew had always been a coward. Always. Snape heard the entire story of Peter’s treachery. Lupin was there, too. They wanted to kill Peter for giving up James and Lily. Snape never thought he’d ever seen anything more satisfying than the three former friends at each other’s throats. Then he saw himself with his wand trained on Black. He was going to give him to the Dementors.

”Yes,” young Snape breathed, almost unable to contain his continued malice for the dead wizard.

Then Harry, Ron and Hermione blasted him. What? Gods damn it. But, at least he understood why they blasted him. Black was innocent and he was going to give him to the Azkaban guards so they’d suck out his soul. Snape thought he would have done it even if he knew Black was innocent, he hated him so much.

More of Harry’s memories were shown.

What? He knew it! He’d told Lily, but she just scoffed at him. Lupin turned into a werewolf in front of Harry, Hermione and Ron. He had been a bloody werewolf all along! He couldn’t believe Dumbledore allowed him to stay at the school!

Snape was now glad Harry had added his memories. He thought Lily would have been proud of her son, who managed to show strength and character despite his upbringing. He scowled as he thought of James, how pompous he’d be. Snape thought Harry only came out as good as he did because his father wasn’t around to ruin him.

Next, he saw the memories of the Tri-Wizard tournament, and how Harry had been entered mysteriously as the fourth of what should have been three champions. No one believed he hadn’t done it himself until it was revealed Alastor Moody wasn’t himself. There was a little conversation where Albus suggested he’d been sorted into the wrong house.

Snape snorted. He hadn’t been. He was a Slytherin through and through.

What was most horrible was the return of Voldemort, who nearly killed Harry. Again, the young wizard faced him alone, wand to wand, actually forcing Voldemort’s power back. But what affected Snape more was the ghostly image of Lily, helping her son escape. He caught his breath as he looked at her pearly image.

He saw how almost everyone refused to believe Harry when he said Voldemort was back. Dumbledore knew, and Harry’s friends believed him, but he had a difficult time of it. He was called attention-seeking and mad. Dumbledore as well. But that old wizard was mad as a fox. Hogwarts was placed under Ministry control, a witch named Dolores Umbridge taking over. She was pure evil and toad-like. He watched how she punished Harry for speaking of Voldemort, bloodying his hand with magic as he did lines. It was like a police state. No spells were practiced. There were curfews and searches. Teachers were removed. Hermione arranged for Harry’s story to be published in a newspaper, and some people seemed to begin to believe him, but there was an even greater crackdown at the school.

He saw himself refusing to give Umbridge Veritaserum so she could question Harry. Again, he was protecting him.

He smirked as Hermione led Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest and the centaurs took her. That had been quite—Slytherin.

He witnessed the battle at the Ministry and Black’s death with satisfaction. Once again Harry had done the impossible and was exonerated when the Minister of Magic himself saw Voldemort before he vanished.

Then, it was his memories again. He was tending to Dumbledore, whose hand was blackened and withered. He had been struck by a deadly curse because—because he had been tempted—but he never said by what. It had to do with a ring. The old wizard was dying.

Snape learned he was to watch and protect Draco Malfoy.

Lucius’ son. The reason he’d been offered patronage. Voldemort wanted Draco to kill the Headmaster.

It was then Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him instead.

Snape stared at the scene in silence, then everything froze again and Harry appeared, turned slightly to Snape’s left.

”You need to know that you were under an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco. His mother asked you to do it, and for whatever reason, you agreed to do so. If Draco had killed Dumbledore, you would have failed to protect him and you would have died from the vow. We’re not sure if that had anything to do with what he asked you, but we think it might have. He wanted you to live, I’m sure of it. Voldemort didn’t trust you, Severus. You had to do something to inspire his trust again. Killing Dumbledore was perfect. He was going to die anyway.”

Harry faded out again and Snape continued to listen to the conversation, becoming more and more alarmed as Dumbledore revealed that Harry had to die. That he’d been saving him for just this moment.

”That bastard,” Snape breathed. “He meant to sacrifice Harry the entire time.”

Harry Potter was a Horcrux and as long as he lived, Voldemort would survive. That was what the prophecy meant.

Then, he saw Harry’s memories of visiting a cave with Dumbledore, and Dumbledore drinking some potion from a basin of some sort and becoming very ill. It seemed as if he were dying. They found a locket but it wasn’t what they were looking for.

There was more, but Snape only focused on himself, pushing Draco out of the way in the Astronomy tower and casting the Killing Curse on the weakened wizard.

Then it was back to Harry’s memories again, of leaving the school and seeking out the remaining Horcruxes, Hermione and Ron with him, solving clues. The witch was absolutely brilliant and Snape was sure without her, everything would have been lost. They had been captured and Hermione tortured by Bellatrix. Then they escaped.

The last memory in the Pensieve was the same as Hermione’s, of him being bitten by Nagini on Voldemort’s orders and being surrounded by a pool of his own blood after giving Harry his memories. Only, Harry seemed reluctant to leave him. It was Hermione’s prompting that seemed to pull him away. They had to face Voldemort. Once more the Pensieve froze and Harry appeared.

“Voldemort tried to kill you because he believed you overcame Dumbledore and so had the power of the Elder Wand. But you didn’t. Draco was the one who overcame him, and then I overcame Draco. The wand belonged to me. He didn’t know, and that’s how I killed him in the end. If you hadn’t diverted his attention, Severus, nothing would have gone properly. In the end, it was your sacrifice that brought an end to Voldemort. You really are a hero and have nothing to feel guilty about. Not a thing. I—we just wanted you to know this, and know that you really have our respect and gratitude, no matter how much of a git you were to us. It all balanced out in the end. I’m sure my mother—Lily—would have thanked you—so I’m going to say it for her. Thank you.”

And Harry faded out for the final time. Snape came out of the Pensieve, looking thoughtful. His incomplete memories would have been devastating if Harry Potter hadn’t thought to add more. Or was it Hermione who decided? He wasn’t sure, but—

He certainly was grateful.

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The next morning, Hermione walked right past Ron in the common room and out the door to breakfast. He looked after her, his expression troubled.

Ginny was waiting for Harry and saw Hermione stalk by him as if he didn’t exist. This wasn’t good at all. Her brown eyes narrowed as she saw Lavender Brown get up from the sofa and walk over to her brother.

”Hi, Ron,” she said to him.

”Hi,” Ron said, still looking after Hermione.

Lavender waved her hand in front of his face.

”I’m over here,” she said as he looked at her as if she appeared from nowhere.

”Hi Lavender,” he said, his eyes shifting back toward the common room exit.

”Want to walk to breakfast together?” she asked him.

Ron looked at her consideringly.

”No, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lavender,” he said to her.

”Why not?” Lavender asked him.

”Well, it was fun playing Snap with you last night. It really helped take my mind off my problems, but I don’t think it’s a good idea that I spend any more time with you. Hermione and I need to settle some things, and I don’t think she’d appreciate me spending time with you, because—well you know. We have a history.”

Lavender blinked at him.

”A history? All I suggested was walking down to breakfast. We’re both going that way,” she said to him a bit angrily. “Hermione shouldn’t get angry about that. She can’t pretend I don’t exist.”

Ron scowled at her then.

”No, maybe she can’t, Lavender, but I can. I see what you’re trying to do and it isn’t going to work. I’m heading for breakfast. Alone.”

With that, Ron walked out of the common room, Lavender glaring after him. So, he’d just used her to make Hermione jealous, then had second thoughts about it. He was a prat.

”Lavender, you leave Ron alone,” a voice said behind her. She spun to see Ginny Weasley frowning at her, her brown eyes hard. “I know what you’re up to. You’re trying to break him and Hermione up so you can get back with him.”

Harry walked down the stairs and up to Ginny and Lavender.

”Hi,” he said, but was ignored by both witches.

”You must not care much about your brother’s feelings, Ginny,” Lavender responded.

”I do care about them, which is why I’m telling you to back off,” Ginny replied.

Both of Harry’s eyebrows rose and he backed away a little, in case Ginny let off a few bat bogeys.

”Don’t you see how miserable Hermione’s making him? She doesn’t care about anything other than showing off how smart she is, Ginny. I watch them. She hardly spends any time with Ron and he’s not happy about it.”

”That’s not any of your concern,” Ginny said, although she didn’t look very happy about what Lavender said.

“At least if Ron was with me, he’d have a girlfriend who cared about him and would spend time with him, not leave him alone while she got off on her books. I understand liking to learn, but something is seriously wrong with Hermione Granger. She’s just not normal, Ginny. Would you treat Harry like that? Would you?”

Lavender was hoping to get a “no” out of Ginny. It would show that she thought Hermione was mistreating her brother.

”I’m not Hermione, Lavender,” Ginny replied tightly. “She’s always been the way she is, and Ron knows that and likes her anyway. You can’t decide what’s right and wrong between them, and I want you to leave Ron alone, otherwise you and I are going to have problems. Real problems, Lavender.”

Lavender narrowed her eyes at Ginny.

”So, you’re fighting Hermione’s battles for her, are you?”

”No. I won’t be fighting at all if you listen to what I’m telling you. Leave my brother alone. He doesn’t need you complicating an already complicated situation. I’m not going to tell you again.”

”Fine,” Lavender snarled, turning and leaving the common room in a huff.

Ginny looked after her, reaching for her wand. Harry caught her wrist.

”Don’t do it, Ginny.”

”Just one little bat bogey. I want to plaster it right to the back of her head.”

”I think she got the message,” he said, smiling at her. Ginny was something else. She was like her mum when it came to her brothers. She’d do anything to protect them.

”Come on,” Harry said, giving her a little peck on the lips.

”Let’s just go to breakfast.”

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A/N: I’m really sorry I couldn’t put everything Snape’s memories covered in this chapter. I know some of you were probably hoping to read his reactions to things I glossed over. I did use the dialogue from the HBP and DH at some points.