How I Spent My Spring Holidays, By Prof. Severus Snape

Chapter Eight: The Boy Who Was Going to Take a Lot of Persuading

I had barely taken ten seconds to digest this curious revelation when Kingsley Shacklebolt Apparated into our midst, wearing a ridiculous pin-striped Muggle suit. Dumbledore wasted no time in ordering Shacklebolt to fetch Harry hither.

"It's going to a dreadful shock for him," the Auror warned. "And I'll need to Memory Charm half the Shifnal Police station after I get him out of there."

"You let the Muggles arrest him?" Moody growled.

"There wasn't much else I could do." Shacklebolt explained. I don't think I have ever seen him looking so uncomfortable. Maybe his silly Muggle trousers were chafing. "I assumed that, once they arrested him, the police would treat it as a small disturbance of the peace," he continued, his deep voice rising slightly to betray his consternation. "And since Harry's still a minor under Muggle law, I hoped they'd let him go with a warning. Nobody was actually hurt, after all - well... not seriously. But unfortunately a social worker's been interviewing him for the past two hours. She's nearly convinced that Harry's barking, and the desk sergeant's threatening to slap an ASBO on him -"

"Do what you must," Dumbledore interrupted. He added, more gently, "But you are correct that this turn of events will be shocking to Harry. Maybe you should let Miss Granger and Ron Weasley come with him... bring them to the car park, and then ask Hagrid to escort them all in to me."

The Auror turned to Disapparate and noticed, for the first time, that I was standing behind him. His dark eyes widened. "Blimey!" he cried. "How did he get in here?"

"Severus comes to us courtesy of a series of unusual events," Dumbledore said serenely.

"You haven't let him do any magic, have you?" Shacklebolt asked, as though I was not there. "You'll have the Aurors swarming all over here if you do. They've set up Dark Detectors right across the country trying to flush Snape out."

"You do realise I can hear you, don't you?" I snapped. "And if by 'doing magic' you mean being dragooned into casting life-threatening enchantments against my will, then yes - magic has been done."

Dumbledore waved his hand for us both to be quiet. "Severus has been providing invaluable service to the Order, Kingsley. But as a precaution, he has been using my brother's wand. I have found that this ploy is usually sufficient to confuse the Magical Law Enforcement Office's investigations. After all, Aberforth's petty misdeeds are so numerous that no-one bothers to discipline him anymore."

Aberforth looked absurdly smug. Kingsley shrugged, implying that if I were arrested he would not be remotely perturbed. With a soft POP he vanished.

An awkward ten minutes followed, with Moody keeping an unfriendly, electric blue eye on me while Dumbledore and his brother resumed their bowling match. The dog lay down on the floor, resting its chin on its paws while it stared up at me, languidly flicking its stringy tail.

Avoiding Moody (and the dog's) gaze, I turned to face the rear entrance of the bowling alley. Eventually Hagrid's large figure filled the doorway. Dumbledore stopped bowling. Hagrid walked towards us slowly, blocking our view of the young Gryffindors trailing behind him.

When the party reached lane twelve Hagrid stood aside. The look of abject disbelief on Potter's face was so marked it was almost comical.

"YOU!" he shouted, gaping at Dumbledore. Then swinging around to me he added, "And YOU!" He swiftly drew his wand.

I reached into my pocket, then realised that Aberforth's wand must have been taken from me during my period of unconsciousness. Luckily Dumbledore intervened.

"Wand away, please, Harry," he sternly said.

Potter started to lower his wand and then thought better of it. "No way," he replied defiantly. "You're not Dumbledore - you couldn't be - Dumbledore's dead - this is a trap."

Granger and Weasley also went for their wands, but Hagrid quickly gripped both of them in a bear hug, pinning their arms to their sides. "Now then, now then," Hagrid said jovially, "we don't want ter start goin' off half-cocked like a pair of chargin' Erumpets, do we?"

Potter, his face a picture of utter confusion, looked from Hagrid to Moody. "Tell me that's not Dumbledore," he implored. "I saw Dumbledore die."

"Looks can be deceiving," Dumbledore said simply.

"But..." Potter whispered, "how?"

How indeed, I wondered. Strangely, I had never doubted that the wizard standing before me was Albus Dumbledore, even though I knew for a fact that I had aimed a Killing Curse into his chest not nine months ago. I suppose, being a superb Legilimens, I recognised Dumbledore's mind as readily as I did his countenance and physique. In addition, I could think of no other wizard who could be so homicidally eccentric as to consider disposing of three Horcruxes in a bowling alley.

But Potter's question was a necessary one. I had aimed a Killing Curse at Dumbledore. I did not miss; I never do. How was Dumbledore still alive?

"Your explanation," Dumbledore began, "may be found in the answers to the three questions I now put to you. What was I wearing when we stood together in the Astronomy Tower? How many windows does that tower have? And when did you last speak with Dobby the house-elf?"

"Wearing?" Potter blurted out. "Who cares what you were wearing? I dunno... something dark, I guess. A travelling cloak?"

"I wore my long black travelling cloak," Dumbledore calmly confirmed, "with the hood."

"And the Astronomy Tower doesn't even have any windows," Potter went on belligerently. "It just has arches. And as for Dobby - why should I be talking to Dobby? He's still working at Hogwarts, and I never went back there."

Dumbledore inclined his head sadly. "Yes, Dobby is still at Hogwarts," he agreed. "But his selfless toil is now at an end. He rests in the White Tomb on the lake's shore."

Muffled by Hagrid's vast sleeves, Miss Granger let out a cry of outrage. Then she broke free of the half-giant's grip and raced forward. "How could you!" she scolded. Raising her hand, she brought it down with a sharp slap on Dumbledore's silver cheek. "How could you?" she half-sobbed. "Dobby was so - so innocent. Like a child! You - you should have protected him!"

"But instead," Dumbledore countered, "I gave him the dignity of being treated as an equal. I gave him freedom to serve our cause in the manner he thought best."

"What the -?" Potter asked.

Weasley was also released by Hagrid. The youth stepped up and held Miss Granger's shoulders. "Steady on," Weasley murmured to her, "you don't know what happened."

"Oh, I can guess exactly what happened," she shot back bitterly. "Isn't it obvious?" She rolled her eyes in a way that clearly indicated she thought both her companions were cloth-eared twits. "Dumbledore was dressed in dark robes that night," Granger began. "He returned to the castle and flew straight up to the only tower with windowless arches. He'd probably already arranged with Dobby - before he went out with Harry - that Dobby should drink Polyjuice Potion, disguise himself as our Headmaster, and wait to see if the castle was actually going to be attacked. I think they both knew full well the attack was coming."

She glared at the old man, who did not shrink from her steely gaze, before continuing at a breakneck pace. "At the critical moment, after Snape ran up the stairs, Dobby must have Apparated into the Astronomy Tower - house-elves can do that, you know - and taken his place directly in front of Dumbledore. It would have been the work of an instant - it was dark - and Dumbledore could have thrown his black hood over his face and hidden in the shadows. So Snape killed Dobby, then Dumbledore grabbed Dobby from behind and the two of them fell off the tower."

Weasley's brow furrowed. "But, if he jumped off the tower, wouldn't that have killed him anyway?"

"He would have been horribly injured," she answered breathlessly. "And remember, Harry told us Dumbledore was already sick from that potion he drank. But I'll bet Fawkes was waiting at the tower's base, cured him, and then Dumbledore made his escape."

Dumbledore nodded. "I flew into the Forbidden Forest on Buckbeak, who then returned to the castle."

"Very neatly done," she said, her voice dripping venom. "The perfect crime - that's what it is. You -you murderer!"

"But if Dobby agreed to do it," Weasley reasoned, "isn't it more like suicide?"

"If you lay down your life in a battle," Moody said gruffly, "you don't call that suicide, son. That's heroism!"

Potter's mouth had been opening and closing like a suffocating goldfish. Eventually he stammered, "So - S-snape - killed Dobby? I don't believe it."

Granger burst into tears and buried her face in Weasley's chest. "It sort of makes sense," Weasley said hesitantly, patting a bushy lump of Granger's hideous hair. "I mean, when you asked Dobby to follow Malfoy, he said he'd throw himself off the highest tower if he did it wrong. And when the Death Eaters found a way into Hogwarts, I guess Dobby needed to punish himself for failing -"

Granger's face reappeared, her eyes streaming and her nose glowing like a Clabbert. "You let him say that?" She glared at both youths, not sure which one to blame the most. Interestingly, Miss Granger did not appear to show the slightest inclination to blame me.

Inwardly, I reviewed the consequences of my elficide. When Draco and I fled from Hogwarts Castle last June, our first port of call had been the Dark Lord's headquarters. There I had allowed my master to cast the Prior Incantato spell on my wand, to show that his mission had indeed been fully accomplished (albeit not by Draco). I must admit that, at the time, I thought it was strange how the smoky shade of Albus Dumbledore had run about the Dark Lord's throne, clutching its spectral ears and whimpering. But (as I have often said) Dumbledore is a profoundly odd wizard. Hardly anything he does has the power to surprise me any more, so I merely put the performance down to the old man's theatrical bent.

Unfortunately, Bellatrix Lestrange also witnessed this spectacle, and was less easily persuaded than the Dark Lord. She refused point blank to lift the Unbreakable Vow upon me. At the time I did not consider this a problem, since I honestly believed that Dumbledore was dead. But now...

Potter, Weasley and Granger began to argue loudly. Potter protested violently that he has told the house-elf not to jump off any towers, and Weasley was corroborating this version of events with much inarticulate hand-waving.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore eventually shouted, shooting scarlet sparks into the air with his wand. "I did not bring you here debate my actions, or the merits of Dobby's valuable sacrifice. All I have done - all any of us here has done - has been done for the same purpose - to defeat Lord Voldemort. We now stand together, closer to the moment of rendering our enemy vincible than we have ever been. It is not the time for squabbling."

The three young people looked cowed. Potter looked cowed and bemused. "Vincible?" he asked.

"Severus and I have destroyed the cup," said Dumbledore. "We have destroyed the snake. Tom's soul - never his best feature, I'll admit - is now pitifully diminished. I have located Slytherin's locket and will destroy it before nightfall. But first I must have your cooperation in a small matter."

Potter looked crestfallen. "I know... I'm sorry...but I never got the wand. I didn't even get into the cave. The police took me away, and Kingsley said I couldn't attract any more attention to myself, or the Ministry would get wind of what Moody was up to."

"Severus has already presented the wand to me," Dumbledore said. Potter looked to me viciously, his lip curled, but Dumbledore spoke before the boy could voice his loathing. "But you shouldn't feel as though you've let the side down, Harry. Ravenclaw's relic was not a Horcrux, and I don't think Severus brought it to us very willingly. No, the task I ask of you is something even more difficult, because the last Horcrux to be collected stands before me now."

Potter stood there dumbfounded. I got the distinct impression that he was going to need a lot of persuading as I waited for Dumbledore to state the inevitable. Instead, wholly unexpectedly, the old wizard asked, "Miss Granger, would you kindly undo the first three buttons of your blouse?"