A Second Chance

~

Snape did not sleep well that night. He lay awake for endless hours in the dormitory after he got back, wondering how he was to accomplish this impossible task. When he did sleep, he dreamed of the man he had seen that first night, whom Voldemort had used the Cruciatus Curse upon. Such was his fate, if he failed. And that would only be the beginning.

No solutions presented themselves to him as he lay staring at the dark ceiling. How on earth did Dumbledore decide who to invite? Would he have to behave like a Gryffindor to follow Voldemort’s commands? Snape could not decide whether that would be better or worse than the Cruciatus Curse.

Finally he slept, but it seemed he had scarcely closed his eyes before someone was shaking his shoulder.

‘Severus, get up! We’ve got to go to breakfast in five minutes.’ Snape tried to push Martin Avery away, but his friend persisted. ‘Where were you last night?’

That made Snape sit upright. ‘Last night?’ He looked around the dormitory, but the others had already gone.

‘Yeah. I woke up around midnight and you weren’t there. Off chasing the Gryffindor gang, were you?’

Snape forced a laugh. ‘Yeah.’

He did not tell Avery where he had been. Snape knew well that his secret was safe only as long as he was the sole person who knew. Avery might want to become a Death Eater as well, but that did not mean Snape could trust him. Hurriedly, Snape got up and flung on his rather crumpled robes. He slicked back his hair, splashed a bit of water on his face to wake himself up, and followed an impatient Avery up to the Great Hall.

As he went into the hall, Snape suddenly remembered that this afternoon he had his Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT exam. That was all he needed. He wished he were still in bed.

The morning seemed to rush past, sitting in the library studying intensively for the exam, watching the clock on the wall, trying not to think about the League Against Voldemort or the Death Eaters. He stonily ignored Lupin, who was also studying in the library with Potter. Snape was determined to finally prove that he was the best at Defence Against the Dark Arts. If only the exam had been on another day, or better still, on the full moon! Then he would have had no competition at all. He toyed with the idea of putting some more silver powder over Lupin’s possessions, but something held him back. He couldn’t afford to be caught now, not if he wanted to get into the League. To cheer himself up, he remembered the way Lupin had jumped back when he touched the silver-dusted books.

‘Aren’t you coming to lunch?’ asked Avery timidly. Snape had spent the morning snapping furiously at anyone who had interrupted his work. Now he did not even look up.

‘No. Sod off.’ Snape turned the page of the book, skimming through instructions on how to escape from a Siren. He yawned widely, feeling something flutter in his stomach. Behind him, he heard cheerful voices, and did not need to turn and look to know that Lupin was going off to lunch with Black, Potter and Pettigrew. He turned through the pages of the book so harshly that one tore under his fingers, and the book gave a squeak of pain. Snape slammed it shut and picked up a long scroll of parchment, his notes on counter-curses. He began to read, muttering under his breath.

The time passed so quickly, much more rapidly than it had last night when he had been lying awake. The bell jangled in his ears, telling all the NEWT students that they had ten minutes to get to the exam room. Snape jumped. He had been reading notes and half-dozing with boredom. Now he sprang to his feet and hurried to the Great Hall where the exams were taken.

The long tables that normally filled the hall had been replaced by many individual desks, on which lay the exam papers and specially bewitched quills that prevented cheating. Snape went to one of the desks near the front and sat down. This was only the written paper; immediately afterwards, they would have to go one by one to Professor Hale and someone from the examining board for the practical exam.

It was, as the name promised, exhausting, and so was the practical exam that followed it. When it was over, Snape and his friends retreated to the Slytherin common room to rest. He had only been sitting in an armchair by the smoky fire for a few minutes when a voice broke into his silent worrying.

‘Severus, I'd like a word.’

Snape looked up into the face of Professor Rigel, the head of Slytherin. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office immediately.’

Snape took a long breath, certain of what was about to happen. How on earth had Dumbledore found out? He had taken the utmost care, he had never given so much as a hint of his allegiance over the five weeks he had been at Hogwarts since swearing his oath to Voldemort.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said dully. Now it was over. He stood up from the leather armchair. Ignoring the glances of concern and surprise on the faces of his friends, he walked from the common room in silence.

He knew his way to Dumbledore’s office, for as a prefect he often had to report there. But never like this. He supposed there were other possibilities. Someone could have died, or he could be in trouble for something else. But his heart told him that he could only be in trouble for one thing, really. There was only one thing this serious.

With a heavy heart, Snape knocked on Dumbledore’s door.

‘Come in!’ called a cheerful voice, and the door swung open of its own accord. ‘Ah, Severus, excellent. Take a seat, do.’ Snape sat down in the wooden chair on the other side of the desk and looked up at the elderly wizard. His face gave a slight quiver of scorn when he noticed that Dumbledore was fiddling with a Muggle pen.

‘How are the exams going?’ asked Dumbledore chattily. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Fine. Thanks,’ said Snape, trying and failing to read the expression on Dumbledore’s face. The headmaster could have been thinking almost anything, but it lay concealed behind friendliness and a beaming smile. It was supposed to put him at his ease, but in truth it was only making the butterflies in his stomach perform acrobatics. Snape tried to suppress the sensation. Dumbledore would not torture him.

‘I'm glad to hear it. What was it, Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon? Excellent.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Snape waited while Dumbledore dropped the pen he was twirling between his fingers. It rolled across the floor, and Dumbledore bent to pick it up. He was relieved to see Dumbledore set the pen in a pot on the desk and sat up straight.

‘Severus, I have something to ask you.’

Snape waited.

‘Perhaps you have heard of the League Against Voldemort?’

Snape took a deep breath, completely unable to guess what was coming next. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said.

‘Good. I would like to know if you’d be willing to join it.’

Snape felt like he would fall off his chair. Dumbledore was inviting him to join the League? He wondered if he were dreaming. He had been very tired after the exam…

‘It’s not an easy question to answer,’ Dumbledore continued. ‘I'd be more than happy to give you some time to think about it.’

‘Why?’ Snape asked harshly before he could help himself. ‘Why do you want me to join?’

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a minute. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it’s a long story. In a nutshell - quite a large nut,’ he murmured under his breath. Snape glared at him. ‘- in a nutshell, I think it’s because I believe you are growing into a wizard strong enough and wise enough to understand why we need to fight Voldemort.’

Snape looked at him suspiciously, wondering whether this was all some sort of joke, and that Dumbledore would stand up and have him arrested in a minute. He couldn’t think of a response.

‘So, Severus. It is your choice. Would you join the League?’

For a moment, Snape wanted to refuse. How could he join the League and swear whatever oath Dumbledore wanted him to take, if he was already sworn to follow Voldemort? Then his common sense took over.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘I’ll join the League.’

A smile spread over Dumbledore’s face. ‘Excellent. I am pleased. Now then, there are a few things to tell you. We won’t start anything going until after the exams - there are several other students in your year who will be joining the League as well - but then, you’ll be introduced to the ways in which we operate. I believe your last exam is on Friday?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Potions, is it?’ Dumbledore continued without waiting for an answer. ‘Well, on Friday evening, you and the others will come up here after supper - say about half past seven - and we can get going.’ He smiled. ‘I'm sure you will do excellently.’

In a flat, empty tone, Snape responded, ‘Thank you, sir.’ He did not feel relieved. Either Dumbledore was leading him on for some strange reason, knowing where his loyalties lay and manipulating him, or he was ignorant. Either way, it did not make life any easier.

‘Go and get some rest now, Severus. I hear that Defence Against the Dark Arts was a very difficult paper. Good luck for the rest of the exams.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Snape again. He stood up and silently left the office. At least now he would not be in danger of being tortured for failing Voldemort. The idea was not as comforting as he had hoped.

~

‘Albus, are you sure that was wise?’ Sitting opposite Professor Dumbledore in his office, Minerva frowned at him over the rims of her spectacles. ‘I mean, Snape’s never exactly got on with the others, and I really don’t know what you see in him.’

‘It is necessary for him to join,’ said Dumbledore. ‘That young man has a great deal of potential. I wish it to be used against Voldemort, and not for him.’

‘What? You think that he’s-?’

‘I think he has the potential to turn in either direction,’ Dumbledore said firmly, cutting off what Minerva was going to say. ‘I am prepared to offer him my trust, and I believe he will prove himself worthy of it.’

Minerva hesitated. ‘Albus, I still think - I mean, I can’t say I'd trust him with anything important. Are you really going to tell him all the secrets of the League?’

‘It is only through being trusted that we learn to be trustworthy. Severus will learn this.’ He smiled, and Minerva sighed.

‘That’s not necessarily true,’ she said. ‘People let you down all the time. Look at You-Know-Who. You trusted him when he was a student here, didn’t you?’

‘Of course I can be mistaken. Of course people will sometimes fail my trust. But I can’t stop trusting people for that reason. And I do not think Severus will fail me. You didn’t want me to trust a werewolf either, Minerva, but Remus is one of the most exemplary students here.’

‘Well, yes.’ Minerva looked out the window, wondering how to give voice to the doubts in her heart. ‘But - well, he’s in Gryffindor.’

Dumbledore frowned slightly at that. ‘And Severus is in Slytherin. Arion was in Slytherin as well, and you trust him.’

‘Snape is no Arion.’

‘No. Severus is his own person, and I trust him.’

Minerva wanted to argue further, but instead she looked down at the list. ‘The other four make sense - yes, Lily is a bright girl, she’s done well - yes, this is fine. But I really don’t think Snape is suitable.’

Dumbledore shook his head. ‘He’ll be on probation for the first month anyway, like the rest, so there will be time to put your fears to rest. Trust me, Minerva. I didn’t choose him at random.’

‘Look, in the Gryffindor Guardian - you know, their magazine - they voted Snape as ‘Most Likely to Serve You-Know-Who.’

Dumbledore only laughed. ‘Yes, and they voted Sirius as ‘Most Likely to Become a Punk Rocker’, and James as ‘Most Likely to Miss the Snitch Due to Seeing a Certain Someone’. It is amusing, that magazine, and the students do mean it as a joke, you know. At least, I hope they do. I would not like to think that they really call me Professor Bumblebore behind my back.’ He chuckled softly.

Minerva scowled, remembering what that same article had said about her. ‘You’ll have a hard time keeping him and Sirius from killing each other,’ she argued.

‘But you don’t suggest that I turn Sirius away?’

‘Of course not!’ protested Minerva. ‘Sirius will be - well, if he learns to control himself a bit more, he’ll be ideal.’

‘Severus is also ideal.’

Minerva could see that she was fighting a losing battle. ‘All right, all right. Have you spoken to them?’

‘Severus was the last.’ Dumbledore took the list back and scanned it. ‘Yes, I've asked them all. They’ve all accepted.’

‘Okay, good. When are we going to start the induction?’

‘Once the NEWTs are over. They’ve got enough on their plates until the end of the week. Friday evening, that’s when they’ll be meeting.’

‘All right then.’ Minerva put the list down with a last scowl at the name of Severus Snape. ‘In that case, I'd better go and see who’s in detention.’ Sighing, she went to the door of the office, leaving Dumbledore alone with the list of members of the League Against Voldemort. He read them again, smiling to himself.

~

Snape still wondered if someone was playing a trick on him. Dumbledore had invited him to join the League? It was absurd, like someone asking Peter Pettigrew to play Quidditch for England. But he knew he could not have imagined the things Dumbledore had said. He was absent-minded all evening, and scarcely heard any of the things his friends were telling him. He went to bed early, snapping at anyone who asked him why.

Lying awake, he told himself to be glad that he didn’t have to face Voldemort without any results. It had been easy, too easy. Could anything be more absurd, Snape wondered, than being ordered to join the League as a spy one evening and invited in good faith to join it the next? He could not believe it was a coincidence.

~

When Snape arrived at the door to Dumbledore’s office on Friday evening, tired after all the exams, there were four people standing there already.

‘What do you want?’ asked Black, scowling at him. ‘Got yourself expelled, have you? About time, too.’

Snape looked from Black to the other three students. James Potter was eyeing him suspiciously, and took a step forwards. Remus Lupin was watching him with an unreadable face, and Lily Evans had turned her face away.

Aware that they were going to find out soon enough, Snape said, ‘I'm here because Dumbledore told me to come here.’ He watched as Lupin and Potter looked at each other with unspoken questions in their eyes.

‘Why?’ demanded Potter sharply.

‘None of your business,’ Snape retorted instantly. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Dumbledore -‘ began Black, but he was cut off by a glance from Potter.

The door to Dumbledore’s office opened. ‘Excellent, you’re all prompt,’ the headmaster said, sticking his head into the corridor. ‘Come in, and we’ll discuss the League a bit more.’

There were four gasps. Snape gave Black a triumphant look and pushed past Lupin into the office. Behind him he heard muffled protests.

‘He’s not -‘

‘How could Dumbledore have - ?’

‘I don’t believe-‘

‘Come in, come in,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Do take a seat.’ He waved at the sofas and armchairs around one corner of the cosy office. Snape took the chair nearest to Dumbledore’s seat, and watched as the others all tried to sit as far away from him as possible. Lily ended up next to him, and then Potter offered to swap with her. Snape kept his face impassive.

‘Now,’ said Dumbledore, ‘you have all agreed to join the League Against Voldemort. This is a thankless, dangerous and uncomfortable job which offers no public rewards. The first thing I must explain to you is the secrecy involved. The Ministry of Magic is unaware of our activities, apart from the Minister himself and those members who also work for the government. Therefore your courage and hard work will go unrewarded. You will lead your everyday life as normal; for most of our members this is purely voluntary work.’

Snape was dividing his attention between Dumbledore and the other four students in the room. He saw Potter nodding agreement. Lupin was looking uncomfortable about something. Black and Lily looked unsurprised. Snape was very pleased to hear about the secrecy. The last thing he needed was for everyone to know he was working for this League.

‘As a part of the secrecy, you will under no circumstances mention anything to do with the League to anyone who is not a member.’ Dumbledore looked severe suddenly. ‘If you do say something by accident, come to me immediately and we’ll try to fix it. You will not be punished for speaking up and telling the truth. But if you don’t come and tell me, I'm afraid that I will be forced to consider you a traitor.’

Lily was looking rather shocked, Snape noticed. She must never have realised how cold Dumbledore could be. Well, Gryffindors tended to look at the world through rose-tinted glasses. Snape felt worried. He had too many secrets to keep, and he was under no illusions that Dumbledore would not realise sooner or later that there was a link between the things he knew and Voldemort’s actions. If he made one mistake, first he would have to face Dumbledore’s punishment, and then Voldemort’s. He wondered which would be worse.

Dumbledore’s expression did not lighten as he continued. ‘That’s the most important thing. The second thing is this. I know that the Ministry has recently sanctioned the use of the Unforgivable Curses against Death Eaters. I will not have any of you do this while you work for me. Under no circumstances will you use any of those curses.’

Snape wondered whether this would make the punishment he would receive from Dumbledore if he failed more or less easy to endure, knowing that he would not be tortured or killed - or at least, not magically.

‘I will introduce you to our other members at the end of term when we have a full meeting here.’

‘How many people are there in the League, sir?’ asked Potter curiously.

Dumbledore frowned in thought and made a show of counting on his fingers. ‘Nineteen, including myself,’ he said at last. ‘And including you, of course.’ Snape noted that number down in his mind. Another piece of information to pass on to Voldemort. It was too easy, he thought again.

Suddenly, as if thinking of Voldemort had caught his attention, Snape felt the mark upon his arm tingle. He was horrified. There was no way he could leave the room now and get through to Hogsmeade, and then Apparate to wherever it was. He sat quite still, enduring it, listening to Dumbledore speak.

‘For the time being you are simply on probation,’ said Dumbledore. ‘This will last a month, during which time I and other members of the League shall teach you certain things the curriculum does not cover, things which you will need to know. I will not ask you to do any tasks for the League beyond learning your lessons well.

‘Once the summer holidays begin, you will begin working for the League, just small things at first, and gradually increasing. And then - well, it depends on many things. I take it you have all applied for something to occupy your time after school ends?’

Everyone nodded, Snape rather sourly. Malfoy had told him that he would be spending the next year studying Dark Arts with various Death Eaters, and so he had only applied for a part-time job working in a wizarding restaurant in London. And now he would be learning how to fight the Dark Arts from Dumbledore.

‘Excellent. Well, your work for the League will come into your free time, I'm afraid.’ Dumbledore smiled. ‘I hope this is not too much of a problem for you.’ He sounded as if he were speaking to fellow adults, Snape thought, and not to his students.

The pain in his arm had increased greatly, so that he was struggling not to let it show upon his face. He caught his breath, and Sirius Black turned to look at him mockingly. Snape glared back, anger swallowing the pain.

‘The first thing I shall require of you is perhaps the most difficult of all. I ask for your word.’ Dumbledore paused, solemn again. ‘I ask you to promise to fight Voldemort in all things, and never to join him or help him. That is the only work of the League, and it is in that aim that such disparate people as yourselves are joined. Will you do this?’

All five heads nodded. ‘I promise to fight Voldemort and never give him or his people any help, ever,’ said Sirius Black fiercely, and the others repeated his oath. Snape was last. Dumbledore met his eyes with a piercing gaze. Feeling doubly a liar with the pain in his arm and Dumbledore’s blue eyes before him, he spoke the oath.

Then Dumbledore smiled again. ‘I can see you’re all tired. You’ve been working very hard on the exams. Soon it will be time for a rest. I will inform you when I want you again. For now, go and relax.’

Snape shot to his feet. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said quickly. Dumbledore nodded to him. The brand seemed to be goading him as he left Dumbledore’s office. He all but ran down to the Slytherin dungeons, where he grabbed his black cloak. Avery was sitting in the dorm, reading something.

‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’

Snape had made up a suitable lie as he ran downstairs. ‘I've got to meet someone in Hogsmeade,’ he said.

‘Oh? A girl?’

Snape nodded without really listening, and flung the cloak around his shoulders, wincing as he moved his arm. He tucked his wand into his belt and hurried out the door.

‘Good luck with her!’ called Avery, laughing.

Now, he had to get out into the grounds and the Whomping Willow without being caught. Snape was very grateful that he was a prefect. He knew from long experience that if he walked purposefully, as if he had every right to be wherever he was going, few people would question him. So he strolled along to a side door and outside, holding his left arm stiffly by his side and trying to make the pain less by refusing to acknowledge it.

Luckily, there were no teachers about. He looked at the sky. It was cloudy. For a moment he panicked. What if it was the full moon? But when he stopped and thought, he remembered that only last week the moon had been waning. He broke a stick from a tree as he walked past.

The Whomping Willow was flailing with no less vigour than usual. Snape crouched down and looked at the trunk. When he spotted the knot, he reached out with the stick and prodded it hard. The tree froze, and Snape climbed down into the tunnel, awkwardly because he couldn’t use his left arm.

He ran through the damp, musty tunnel, smelling the reek of werewolf in the air and noticing the clawmarks all over the walls. It turned his stomach. He ran as quickly as he was able in the dark, low tunnel, the pain growing more and more intense.

At last he could see the Shrieking Shack ahead of him. Without bothering to climb out of the tunnel, he raised his wand and performed the spell to carry him to the place where Voldemort awaited him.

As soon as he Disapparated, the pain left his arm. Snape did not realise how crippling it had been until it was gone. He could think clearly now, and he didn’t have to keep himself under such stern control to prevent anyone from noticing that he was in agony.

He reappeared in a cellar. Although his eyes were adjusted to the dim light from his wand in the tunnel, he could not see in what seemed to be complete darkness. The air in the cellar was cold and damp and smelt as musty as the tunnel, but without the odour of werewolf.

‘You’re late.’

Snape could not see Voldemort in the darkness, but he had no trouble in recognising the low hissing tones.

‘I apologise, my lord. There are protections on Hogwarts that make it impossible to Apparate from within the grounds,’ he said, hoping his tone was sufficiently humble.

‘Indeed? I hope, young slave, that you have learned enough for it to be worth my while to keep you.’ Snape heard the dangerous note in Voldemort’s voice, and froze. A jet of red light shot across the room, missing Snape’s head by inches.

‘Yes, my lord,’ he said in a voice that held some real fear. He felt the brand on his arm burn again, and instantly Apparated to the centre of the circle. Voldemort’s eyes shone in the dark like an animal’s, save that no animal had eyes that were blazing and red. Snape raised his head to look into them. He saw a flash as Voldemort cast a Secrecy Spell around the place where they were standing.

‘Now then. What have you achieved, that I should not punish you for your lateness?’ asked Voldemort in a quiet voice that sounded very dangerous. Snape was glad he had a good answer.

‘My lord, I am a member of the Old Fool’s League.’ Snape spoke quietly, without any triumph. He was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from Voldemort, and the Dark Lord’s eyes flashed.

‘Is that so?’ he hissed, sounding almost like the snake that circled the ground. ‘I am pleased with you, Severus.’

Snape felt his shoulders relax a tiny amount. ‘Thank you, my lord.’

Voldemort was silent for a while, apparently thinking. Snape waited, made nervous by the silence. At length Voldemort asked, ‘And what else do you know?’

‘There are nineteen members, and I know the names of four others. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter and Lily Evans. We’re all on probation at the moment.’ As he spoke, Snape was uncomfortably reminded of the oaths he had sworn.

‘I see.’ Voldemort paused. When he spoke again, his voice was light and matter-of-fact. ‘You will take great care not to get caught. If you are, the punishment you receive from the Old Fool will be trivial compared to what will happen when I find you, and be sure that I will.’

Snape nodded, alarmed by how quickly Voldemort’s mood changed from pleased to threatening. ‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Now, as you can perhaps be trusted a little bit more, I wish for you to accompany one of my other Death Eaters on a task and learn more about how we operate.’ He was silent for a moment, and then there was a ‘pop’ beside Snape. He turned, his eyes better adjusted to the darkness now. The shape of Hippolyte Blackwood was unmistakeable. Snape looked hard at her. She really was very attractive. But Hippolyte was gazing straight at Voldemort.

‘I trust everything is in order for your assignment next week, Hippolyte?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ she said, her voice low but certainly not meek.

‘Good. You will take Severus with you when you go.’ The red gaze fixed itself upon Snape. ‘You will obey Hippolyte as if she were me. I will expect to hear a good report of how you have conducted yourself before I trust you with more complex tasks.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Snape automatically. He had become used to saying that every time Voldemort spoke, and he only had to remember not to say the same thing to the professors at Hogwarts.

‘Hippolyte, give him the necessary instructions.’

‘Of course.’ She did not call Voldemort ‘my lord,’ but her eyes held the Dark Lord’s red slits for a moment.

‘You are dismissed.’

Voldemort looked away from them, and they both immediately Apparated back to the edge of the circle. Now that his eyes were adjusted to the light, Snape could see that the other Death Eaters were standing around as they always did. Malfoy moved along so that Hippolyte could speak to Snape.

‘We’ll be leaving on Saturday night,’ she said. ‘Meet me at the Red Dragon in Hogsmeade, at quarter to nine. Dress as if you were taking me out for dinner.’ A smile hovered around her face, and she pushed back a lock of hair. ‘Assuming we get away alive, you’ll be back in your dorm by about four o’clock on Sunday morning.’ She looked at him appraisingly. ‘I've never heard of having a little boy in the Death Eaters. You must be someone special.’

‘What will we be doing?’ asked Snape, deciding to ignore her last comment.

Hippolyte did smile now, her lips slowly curving and parting. ‘We’re going to kill someone.’

TO BE CONTINUED