A Second Chance

~

‘Snape! Severus, look at this!’

Snape pulled the blanket up over his head with a sharp tug, trying to pretend he was still asleep. Martin Avery was not discouraged, but continued to stand over him, flapping something at his face. He grunted.

‘Look!’ Avery thrust the paper at him, right into the blankets.

‘Get lost,’ Snape said, muffled by the blankets. ‘I'm trying to sleep.’

‘Just read this, you’ll like it. Come on, look at it.’

Sullenly, Snape pushed back the blankets and opened his eyes blearily. Avery was flapping a copy of the Prophet on Sunday at him, but because the paper was twitching back and forth, Snape could do no more than see the picture of the Dark Mark on the front page. He reached up and snatched it away, ignoring Avery, who was still jabbering nonsense about the Dark Lord and the Ministry. Had Voldemort done something else last night, or was this his own work on the front page of the newspaper?

Two Murdered by Death Eaters. Vital Ministry Secrets Stolen. Snape stared. There on the front page was a picture of his Dark Mark, and the house beneath it. He looked again more carefully. Vital Ministry secrets? Could that have been the file he had picked up? Quickly, he glanced at the article beneath, skimming through the descriptions of the people who had been killed, not wanting to know about their lives. He found the part about the papers.

It is believed that the information stolen relates to the security arrangements on the Ministry building in London. Many have criticised the Ministry for allowing such vital and important information to be taken out of the building, much less kept in such a careless manner in officials’ homes.

Robert Trimble, Minister of Magic, did not wish to comment.

Snape smiled. He had succeeded. He pushed away the worries that had nagged him last night. They were unimportant now, now that those papers he had taken had proved important. Now he had succeeded.

‘It’s great, isn’t it?’ said Avery. ‘Those Ministry twits got what was coming to them. Did you see what Skeeter wrote about them?’

‘Oh, it’s her, is it?’ asked Snape sourly, showing no sign of his pleasure in the news. ‘I should have known.’ Rita Skeeter was the talk of every gossip column, a young up-and-coming journalist whose scathing pen was applauded loudly by all who did not wish it turned upon themselves.

‘Yeah. Here, look what she said about the Ministry.’ Avery waved his hand at the second page of the newspaper, but Snape ignored him. Getting out of bed, he looked at the clock. He was not pleased to learn he had missed breakfast.

‘Hey, Avery, you got that article from the Prophet?’ asked Lestrange, coming into the room. Snape was relieved to see them both leave the dorm and go through to the common room. Both Avery and Lestrange wanted to be Death Eaters - here in Slytherin they made little secret of that fact - and Snape was finding their naïve statements about Death Eaters increasingly irritating. They knew nothing of what he did, and he wished they would keep quiet, because he constantly wanted to blurt out the truth and tell them about his own personal knowledge.

Alone, he allowed himself a smile. Those papers were valuable, and he, Severus Snape, the Death Eater, had found them for Voldemort. That would outweigh any trifling details about two small children. In the morning light, his fears and worries from yesterday seemed foolish and insignificant. He was a Death Eater, after all.

~

The meeting of the League Against Voldemort drew nearer and nearer, until it was finally time. Snape was partly dreading it, but also looking towards it with excitement that he did not show. As he walked up the stairs with the other four students towards Dumbledore’s office, neither emotion was visible on his face, but only a look of disdain.

If anyone noticed anything different about him … if anyone thought he was behaving oddly … Snape didn’t have to remind himself of the consequences. A new fear caught hold of him. What if one of the members were a spy like himself, but spying on Voldemort? His game would be up then.

They reached the office door, and Dumbledore ushered them in with a beaming smile. Snape entered last of all, glad to be slightly shielded from the gazes of all the people in the room so that he could take a look at them all without being too obvious. There was a long table with men and women sitting along both sides. Amongst the occupied seats were some empty places. Snape scanned the faces and wondered what would happen if he announced what he was. For a flashing second some hidden part of his mind thought, this must be what it’s like to be a werewolf. He banished that thought so quickly it was as if it had never entered his mind.

‘Now these five,’ Professor Dumbledore was saying, ‘are the outstanding students I have selected to become members of our League. Let me present them.’ He beckoned to the boy standing at the front. ‘This is James Potter, our Head Boy.’ Snape stopped listening as Dumbledore began to outline Potter’s good qualities, and looked at the people sitting around the table. He only recognised two of the faces, Professor McGonagall and a young man who had left two years ago and had been a prefect for Hufflepuff, Frank Longbottom. Snape also noticed a freckled, red-headed man who could only be a Weasley. As he scanned the others, he felt eyes on him, and glanced down at the end of the table.

A dark-haired man sat there, seeming to cast a long shadow over the whole table. He was leaning back in his chair, piercing eyes staring at Snape as if he could see straight through him and out the other side. Snape flinched inwardly. He felt unshielded, defenceless. He gave an inadvertent glance at his arm, but the long robe completely hid the place where the Dark Mark was engraved. In any case, it was invisible, he reminded himself.

‘And this is Severus Snape.’ Snape jumped at hearing his name, and realised that he was standing alone. The other four had all been introduced and had taken seats at the table. He looked at Dumbledore, and then at the table again. Professor McGonagall seemed decidedly mistrustful. ‘Severus is a prefect and has been an exemplary student showing many valuable qualities. I have complete confidence in him.’ As he spoke those last words, Dumbledore looked straight into Snape’s eyes.

Somehow, Snape felt even more open to attack with those words in his ears. There was sincerity in Dumbledore’s voice and his eyes were guileless, like the child’s had been that night. He dared not look away lest Dumbledore notice any guilt in his behaviour. Voldemort would never be such a fool, Snape thought.

‘Do take a seat,’ said Dumbledore politely after a moment, speaking as if to another adult rather than a student. Snape moved automatically to the remaining empty place in between two witches. He glanced at them both. One seemed to be about Dumbledore’s age, with white hair tied up in a knot behind her head. She was knitting placidly, appearing to have scarcely noticed his arrival. The woman on the other side was much younger, maybe only a few years older than he was, and she was very pretty. Snape was disgusted to note that she was already looking at Black with interest in her eyes.

‘Let us begin,’ said Dumbledore. ‘The first thing to do, of course, is to assign our new members to the appropriate places. James, Sirius and Remus are about to enter training as Aurors, and as such will work with the other Aurors here - I know I can rely on you to introduce them to their tasks and make sure they are not bored with their work. Lily, I would like you to work with Arthur and Miranda here - they’re both members of the Ministry.’ Snape looked at the Weasley man with even greater distaste, and then at the knitting lady. ‘And Severus, I have something I'd like your help with.’

Snape did not scowl, but he thought at once, he doesn’t trust me. He sat through the meeting, paying close attention to everything. Dumbledore seemed to be working through routine matters - listening to reports from various members about the progress of their projects, encouraging debate between the members, giving instructions occasionally and praise freely.

Snape sat in silence, feeling thoroughly out of place, as the discussion took place around him. The other students seemed to be joining in at every line and were full of things to say, but he understood very little of what was going on, and had no intention of revealing his ignorance.

‘All right, now, why don’t you break up into your separate groups, and you can get down to the details,’ said Dumbledore after about forty minutes of discussion. ‘Severus, if you’ll come in here we can talk in peace without this rabble interrupting us.’

Everyone rose from the table and went to sit in clusters around the room. Dumbledore opened the door to his private office, and Snape followed him in, feeling uneasy. He was sure now that Dumbledore knew what he was doing.

‘Take a seat.’ Snape sat on one of the armchairs, and Dumbledore stretched out on the sofa next to him.

‘What do you want me to do?’ Snape asked, his voice slightly aggressive. Dumbledore smiled disarmingly.

‘I'm going to a conference of international wizards soon. We’re going to be discussing the problems Voldemort is causing and try to work out some possible solutions.’ Dumbledore smiled. ‘Anyway, I'm going to need some help.’ He looked expectantly at Snape, but Snape said nothing.

‘Obviously, a large conference like this will be difficult to keep absolutely safe and concealed from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. That’s where I need your help. You will work with the other security guards at the site - they’ll give you the details of the job; I daresay it’ll consist of misdirection spells, traps and warning systems, as well as making sure there are no spies around.’ Snape flinched at those words, but kept his face impassive.

‘It should take about a fortnight, altogether. You’ll start a few days before the conference begins, and remain there after the end to clear up. I’ll put you in touch with the person in charge of security - he’s a colleague of mine.’

Snape’s mind was racing. Was he being taken along as a sort of hostage, so that Voldemort would keep away lest he harm one of his own? How naïve Dumbledore was. Snape was fairly certain that Voldemort would not allow something like that to hold him back. This is silly, he told himself. Dumbledore has no idea who you’re working for. He scowled up at Dumbledore.

‘I'm confident that you will do very well there. Now, this might not sound exactly like League business, but I assure you that it is. Apart from everything else, by attending the conference you will have the opportunity to learn about the threat of Voldemort from the experts.’

Snape nodded. He was wavering. Part of him felt that Dumbledore was opening a trap for him, that he was being lured into betraying himself. The other part of his mind told him that Dumbledore was being naïve, that this was his great chance to learn all about the League and gain yet more importance to Voldemort. And he knew that there was no way he could refuse what Dumbledore was asking without behaving suspiciously.

‘Now then, it’s only fair for me to warn you in advance about the risks. I assume you’ve heard the recent news?’

Snape scowled. The only way he could keep the pretence going was to not think about things like that in Dumbledore’s presence. Dumbledore continued to speak, taking his silence as assent.

‘Well, amongst those papers which were stolen were some details about this conference. Obviously, we’re changing things, but Voldemort definitely knows that the conference is going to occur. I hope the security team will prevent them from learning anything new.’

If Voldemort already knew, Snape thought, then this little job of his would give the Death Eaters no new information at all. He scowled again. Still, he could scarcely refuse.

‘Now then,’ Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes, ‘if you’re happy with this, shall we get back to the others?’

‘It’s okay,’ said Snape dully.

‘Excellent.’ Dumbledore beamed at Snape, then rose. They went back into the main office. Snape took his seat at the table in silence, turning everything Dumbledore had said over and over in his mind. He knew there was only one thing he could do, and that was to carry on and keep up the pretence.

Dumbledore was saying some closing words. Snape wasn’t really listening, but he was watching the elderly wizard closely. Was it more likely that he was naïve or that he was playing games?

‘So, keep up the good work, everyone. I’ll look forwards to our next meeting.’ Everyone began to get up, and Snape pushed back his chair quickly, going towards the door. ‘Oh, Remus, James and Sirius, I'd like you to stay here for a moment.’

Snape glanced at the trio with scorn, and hurried from the room. Talking to the other members of the League might be a good way to learn things for Voldemort, but he didn’t have any desire to do so. They’re sickening, he thought. He wanted to get as far away from the League Against Voldemort as he could. Somehow, being with them made him feel even worse than at a meeting of Death Eaters.

~

Remus remained seated while the other members of the League left. James was whispering something to Sirius, and they both grinned. He noticed that one other person was lingering in the room. Dumbledore spoke quietly to her, and she nodded. Then Dumbledore stepped forwards, ushering the lady with him.

‘This is Arabella Figg,’ he said with a smile to the woman. ‘She’s volunteered to teach you three how to be Aurors.’ Remus looked her up and down. To his eyes she looked old: her hair was turning grey and her face was lined deeply. Small half-moon glasses were perched on her nose, and behind them her eyes were alert, moving from face to face.

‘Arabella, may I present James Potter, Sirius Black with the purple hair there, and Remus Lupin.’

Arabella Figg turned her eyes to Remus. ‘The werewolf?’ she asked bluntly. Remus hesitated, feeling his stomach twist. Why on earth had she agreed to teach him? Beside him, both James and Sirius had stiffened and were glaring at her.

‘Yes … that’s right,’ said Remus in a hesitant tone. Arabella Figg extended a hand to him at once, and after staring at it in amazement for a second, Remus shook hands with her.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said, and she sounded as if she actually meant those formulaic words. She was smiling, the lines on her face creasing, and Remus returned the smile. Beside him, Sirius and James had relaxed. ‘So, you want to be Aurors, do you? Albus here has told me great things of your potential, and also of your teamwork. It’s unusual to take more than one apprentice at a time, but he assured me that you’d work far better together. I hope he’s right.’

Dumbledore smiled. ‘I’ll leave you to get to know each other.’ He went quietly into the back office.

‘So,’ said Arabella Figg, ‘why do you want to be Aurors?’

‘To fight the Dark Arts,’ said James instantly. Sirius nodded his agreement, and so did Remus. There were flashes of anger only partially controlled in Sirius’ eyes. ‘We’ve all lost people we love to Voldemort,’ continued James when Arabella said nothing. ‘We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else.’

Arabella nodded. ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘You’re all prepared to work hard?’ It wasn’t a question really, and nobody answered. ‘And you’ve all been studying Defence Against the Dark Arts at school?’

‘Yes,’ said Remus. ‘The results from the NEWTs come out on the last day of term.’

‘Well, as Dumbledore recommended you all to me, I feel sure your results will be more than adequate.’ She smiled at them. Suddenly and without any warning, she had drawn her wand and held it pointed straight at Sirius, whose jaw had dropped. A stream of red sparks shot at him.

‘You’re going to have to learn faster reactions than that if you want to be Aurors,’ she said with a slightly smug smile at James, who was still reaching for his own wand. She let her wand hand fall again. ‘You have to be on the alert all the time. Constant vigilance!’ she snapped, and then laughed as if she had made a joke. ‘Count yourself lucky you don’t have Alastor teaching you. He would have turned you into toads if you hadn’t been able to draw your wands quickly enough.’

Sirius gave a slightly strained laugh, and Remus could see he had been startled by the speed and force of Arabella Figg’s mock-attack. James was looking at her with respect.

‘I think you’ll do well,’ she said with a nod of approval. ‘Now, when do you want to start training?’

‘Right after the end of term,’ said James at once.

‘Good. You break up at the end of this week, is it?’ Remus nodded. ‘Then come to me on Monday at 8 a.m. and you can get started. I assume you want to learn as quickly as possible?’ Without waiting for a response, she continued, ‘We’ll have lessons all morning every day for a month, and in the afternoons you can practise and prepare for the next lesson. It’ll be very intensive and you’ll learn quickly.’ She paused, then added, ‘You can have the time around the full moon off if you want it.’ Remus gave a short nod.

‘Do you all have your Apparation licenses?’ All three boys nodded. ‘Good. Well, I live in Headington at the moment.’ She began to give the boys directions to get to her house. At the end she shook their hands again. ‘I’ll see you all on Monday, then. I'm sure your NEWTs will be good.’

‘Thank you,’ said the boys in chorus. Remus looked at her and wondered anew why she had agreed to teach a werewolf. Perhaps she - no, that couldn’t be true. He frowned.

‘Are there any questions I can answer?’ she asked. Remus hesitated, unsure whether it would be polite, not knowing what to say. She looked directly at him. ‘D’you have a question?’

‘Er - yes, um … how come - I mean, why - what made you decide to teach us?’ he stammered, not certain how to phrase his question.

Arabella Figg looked at him with a smile. ‘Albus told me all about what an excellent team you were and so forth, and I thought I'd enjoy it.’ Remus looked at her, unsatisfied. ‘But I don’t think that’s what you mean. Tell me what you mean.’

‘I mean - why would you teach a werewolf?’ James and Sirius were watching this interchange with great interest, but Remus scarcely saw them.

The smile on Arabella’s face deepened, and she seemed pleased. ‘I had a friend once,’ she began, ‘when I lived in Albania for a while, years ago. She was an excellent witch and a lovely person, and she was also a werewolf. Knowing her opened my mind a little. Does that answer your question?’

Remus nodded, his eyes still fixed to her face. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘All right then,’ said Arabella Figg. ‘I’ll see you on Monday!’

The three boys went reluctantly out of the office.

‘Isn’t she cool?’ enthused Sirius. ‘Did you see how quickly she had her wand out? I'm going to practise that this evening. You’ll help me, won’t you, Remus?’

‘Er-‘ began Remus, and James interrupted.

‘I think we’ll all get out of the dorm while you practise, all right? You can attack the paintings on the wall, they’ll appreciate some excitement.’

Remus and Sirius both began to laugh, and still laughing they went down to the Gryffindor common room.

~

All of the seventh year was gathered on the final day of term in the Great Hall at noon when the results would be announced for the NEWTs.

‘Well, it’s okay for you,’ Lestrange was saying to Snape, ‘you’ll have As in everything. You’ll probably be top of everything. But some of us who aren’t swots aren’t so confident.’

‘It’s stupid to run around like you’ve been jinxed just because the exam results are coming out,’ said Snape icily, sitting on a bench. ‘You can't do anything about them now.’

Lestrange looked daggers at him. Snape’s hand fell lightly on his wand. At that moment, they all heard the clock begin to chime noon. The hall fell silent, every student watching and waiting for the owl to arrive.

Professor McGonagall was sitting at the High Table. As the clock began to strike twelve, all eyes turned to the windows high in the walls. A large eagle owl came swooping in. Everyone waited tensely as it landed at the table in front of Professor McGonagall and deposited a letter in front of her.

She opened the envelope and peeled back the flap. Carefully she drew out the parchment, which grew longer and longer as she pulled it out. She scrutinised it through her spectacles. Watching her, Snape felt his anxiety grow, and glared at Lestrange to allay it. Then Professor McGonagall opened the envelope again. Many small pieces of parchment fluttered onto the desk. Picking up her wand, Professor McGonagall uttered a spell.

Snape watched as the pieces of parchment rose into the air and flapped their way around the room like a light flurry of snow. Each came to rest in the hands of a student.

Trying his hardest to appear nonchalant, Snape scanned his piece of parchment.

Arithmancy: A
Astronomy: A
Charms: A
Defence Against the Dark Arts: B
Herbology: A
History of Magic: A
Potions: A (Distinction)
Transfiguration: A

Snape read it again, mortified. He had a B. A B in Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was impossible. They must have marked the paper wrongly. They must have got the grades mixed up. He couldn’t possibly have a B.

He peered over at Lestrange’s grades. He had three As and the rest Bs, with a C in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Snape could not feel pleased for doing better than Lestrange, because that was normal. He stared at the B as if it might have been a figment of his imagination.

Around him, people were congratulating each other, there were joyful shouts and a few tears. Snape stood frozen in the middle of it all, speaking to no-one and with no-one speaking to him.

‘A full listing of results will be posted on the main noticeboard,’ said Professor McGonagall loudly over the din. ‘If any of you have any questions, please come and see me. Congratulations to you all.’

Snape didn’t want to ask questions. He didn’t want to discuss his failure with anyone. That exam had been ridiculous anyway, he told himself. Most of the questions had had little to do with what they had studied in class. Perhaps he should complain to Professor Hale. This attitude to studying Defence Against the Dark Arts instead of the Dark Arts themselves was asinine.

‘Those are pretty good, Severus,’ said Martin Avery, leaning over his shoulder to look at the results slip and breaking in on his thoughts.

‘Get off!’

‘Hey, what’s up with you?’ demanded Avery in a wounded tone. ‘Your results are great.’

Snape ignored him. A thought struck him, and he began to follow the other students who were going to look at the results on the noticeboard. Perhaps his would be different there.

He pushed through the crowd until he was standing at the front, and scanned the list. Defence Against the Dark Arts. But it still read Severus Snape, B. He looked at the names above his. Remus Lupin, A (Distinction). James Potter, A. Snape stared at these. Only the werewolf had a Distinction in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Feverishly scanning through the lists, he discovered that Potter, Black and Lupin all had straight As and a handful of Distinctions amongst them.

‘Wow, you came top, Remus! Brilliant!’ Snape heard the unmistakeable tones of the Head Boy beside him. Almost without thinking, he reached for his wand. As he turned towards Potter, seething, he heard a mocking laugh behind him.

‘Ooh, Snapey’s jealous ‘cause you got better grades than he did, Moony. Thought you were going to beat us in the exams, did you, Snapey?’

‘Shut up, idiot,’ said the werewolf uncomfortably.

Snape raised his wand, pointing it at Black. The crowd began to back away as Black pulled out his own wand. ‘At least I know how to choose my friends,’ Snape ground out as he and Black faced each other with drawn wands. ‘At least I don’t hang around with a -‘

‘Say it and you’ll be expelled,’ hissed Black, his face contorted with anger.

‘It’s the end of term, I can’t be expelled,’ Snape retorted instantly. He eyed the werewolf. ‘All my friends are human,’ he whispered, each word loaded with venom. ‘I don’t like monsters, were-‘

‘What is going on here? Put your wands down instantly!’ Professor McGonagall’s sharp, furious tone made all four boys turn around with guilty expressions on their faces. ‘On the last day of term! Fighting! This is absurd! How will you learn to work together after school if you can’t even stand next to one another without duelling? And you, Mr Potter!’

‘But Professor -‘ began Sirius Black.

‘Silence! I will not hear any excuses. Mr Snape, return to your common room. I will be speaking to your Head of House. You three, up to my office at once.’

Snape glared after the three boys as Professor McGonagall paraded them out of the hall and up the stairs. His friends began to appear around him.

‘What was that about?’ asked Lestrange, wide-eyed.

‘Stupid know-it-all Gryffindors,’ Snape said, fuming. As Professor McGonagall turned to glance at him, he strode towards the steps leading to the dungeons, his cloak swishing behind him and his results slip still clenched in his fist.

~

Two days into the summer holidays, Snape was no more reconciled to his results. He had spent his time fuming and practising curses on any available object, wishing he could curse the objects of his hatred. How could a werewolf beat him like that? It was shaming, it was disgraceful.

A pain in his arm jolted him momentarily out of these thoughts as he sat up late in the evening, and he stood up with a start. Grabbing his black cloak and flinging it around himself, Snape Apparated away.

He reappeared in a derelict building site, standing amidst heaps of old rubble and a half-demolished building. He looked around, but could see nothing with eyes unadjusted to the darkness.

‘Welcome, my Death Eaters.’ Voldemort’s voice rang out behind him, and at once Snape whirled around. He could not see where Voldemort was standing, but he faced the voice and stood stock-still.

‘You have seen the results of Hippolyte’s excellent work. She will be rewarded for bringing me the papers which will lead me closer to one of my most important targets.’ He paused, and then as an afterthought said, ‘Also Severus, whom I hope has gleaned some more information for me.’

Snape was glad it was dark, because nobody could see his jaw drop in disbelief. Hippolyte had taken all the credit for his work. She knew he had found those files, she knew he had done the work. And still she claimed the honour he had expected. He glared out into the darkness, wanting more than ever to curse someone.

He was still fuming with the unfairness of it when Voldemort summoned him to speak privately. Snape had enough sense not to argue with the Dark Lord about who had found the papers. He had seen, in a previous meeting, what had become of one person who had argued with Voldemort.

‘So, what have you learned, young Severus?’ hissed Voldemort, his face coming uncomfortably close to Snape’s.

‘My lord -‘ Snape hesitated, still violently angry ‘- I am still on probation, and I am not told any secrets by the League.’ He kept his eyes fixed on the red slits in Lord Voldemort’s face, his anger preventing him from feeling any guilt or fear.

‘That is not good,’ murmured the Dark Lord, and Snape suddenly shivered and wondered why he was being so foolish. But he could hardly tell Voldemort he had just lied.

‘I do not wish to be discovered, my lord,’ Snape continued in a smooth voice that belied his fear and the churning of his stomach. ‘It would attract attention if I were to hunt for information. When I am trusted, I will have access to all the secrets of the League.’

‘I see.’ The words emerged in a soft hiss. ‘Do not fail me.’ With a flick of his wand, Voldemort flung Snape backwards, away from his presence.

Snape stood in the circle that had formed and tried to control his shaking knees. He had lied to Voldemort, and Voldemort had believed the lie. He felt sure Voldemort had believed him, for if he had shown any sign of faithlessness, he would have suffered for it.

He scarcely heard what Voldemort was saying, in a mixture of relief and pride and festering anger. When the meeting was dismissed, he looked around for Hippolyte. As he headed towards her, she raised her wand to Apparate away.

‘Wait!’ said Snape. ‘Why did you tell him’ - there was no need for Snape to use a name - ‘that you found those papers?’

Hippolyte wore an expression of mingled pity and scorn. ‘You really don’t know anything,’ she said softly. ‘What did you think I was going to do? Grow up, Severus. This isn’t a kid’s game.’ She raised her wand again and Disapparated, leaving Snape puzzled and still angry.

TO BE CONTINUED

Blaise.
23rd August 2000
revised 29th October 2004