Nothing Hidden

"I tried," Sirius sat down with a frustrated sigh.

"Is he still sulking down in the dungeons?" Lupin looked at him over a ministry report.

"Sulking doesn't seem to describe it," Sirius reached for one of the many reports that crowded the length of the staffroom table.

"I don't see why," Lupin smirked. "He got what he wanted."

"Do you presume to know what he wanted?" Dumbledore's soft voice interrupted from the doorway.

"He made his feelings abundantly clear, Albus," Sirius protested. "He doesn't care about Harry."

"Is that fair?" Dumbledore looked gravely down at him.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. Ever since he found out that it was Snape who had provided the evidence that finally exonerated him, he had been uncomfortable around his old enemy. What he couldn't understand was why Snape had done it. Unable to comprehend, he grasped at a more palpable explanation. Strange, how easy it was to vilify someone to whom you owed a great debt.

"I tried to thank him." He resented Dumbledore's implication that he was ungrateful. "He would have none of that. Didn't let me past the doorway. Had some kind of shield around it."

Dumbledore sighed. There was blame enough to go around.

"I suppose," Sirius went on, "that he must be very disappointed. Imagine what an advantage having Pettigrew would have been for him."

He was immediately sorry. Even Lupin, who certainly knew Snape's personality first hand, was looking disturbed.

"What evidence . . ." Dumbledore had to stop and start again. "What evidence do you have to suggest that under any circumstance Severus would have kept Pettigrew from either myself or the Ministry?"

"What happened after my arrival at Hogwarts . . ."

"Occurred almost two years ago. And if you will recall, many of your close friends had a hard time believing your claims. Did you expect more of someone who had disliked you from childhood?"

"No," Sirius admitted grudgingly. There had been many people, whom he had once called friends, who would have done exactly as Snape had. "But back to my point," he tried to steer the conversation back to a safer arena, "was it not convenient how the evidence turned up just when he was in danger of being saddled with guardianship of Harry? I know you meant well, Albus, but perhaps he was right all along, that there is no one who will benefit from the truth."

"Do you believe that?" Dumbledore then turned to Lupin, "and do you?"

"No," Lupin said softly. "As you've always said, Albus, the truth needs to be known before it can be dealt with. He has condemned Harry to live a lie." He looked around the table and his eyes darkened. "We all have."

"You believe we should tell Harry?" Sirius demanded, turning on Lupin.

"At this point it would probably make things worse," Lupin admitted, "but yes, I believe he has a right to know the truth at last."

"Do either of you wish the recall that none of us — NONE OF US — know what the truth is? It seems to me this mess is not of our making!"

"Yes," Dumbledore murmured, "and with that lofty knowledge, none will pick up a mop."

"A fine sentiment, Albus," Sirius countered, "but why lose sight of the most important thing of all? He doesn't want Harry! How could it benefit a child to find out something that hurtful? He grew up with those deplorable Muggles, and all the while he had a living father, who could have claimed him if he chose! What have you to say in defense of that?"

"There is nothing I can say," Dumbledore said evenly. "I don't have all the facts. How can I judge a man based only on evidence that aims to condemn him?"

"I believe you know something of that, Sirius," added Lupin.

"Whose fault is it that the facts are not know? Let him walk in here and speak the truth, if he doesn't want to be condemned. What motive does an innocent man have to conceal the truth?"

"But he does have motive," Lupin frowned. "What happens after he speaks against James and Lily Potter? That is what he would have to live with. He and Harry both."

"Very perceptive, Remus," Dumbledore got up. The conversation was pointless, it was rehashing old points and reopening old wounds. "Now I must go and speak to Harry. The train leaves in one hour."

Harry and Sirius were leaving Hogwarts that afternoon.

Dumbledore felt a heaviness in his heart as he walked up to the Gryffindor tower. How badly things had turned out! Harry would be leaving with Sirius. Snape had locked himself in his office — Dumbledore had made his own attempt to talk to him and had found the door barred just as Sirius had.

He tried to throw off his heavy thoughts as he entered the Gryffindor common room.

Harry was rushing about the room excitedly, gathering up the last of his belongings. His trunk stood open in the center of the room. Less than two weeks remained of summer vacation, but he would be spending them with Sirius, fixing up the small cottage that would from then on be his . . . Home. He hardly dared to believe it yet.

"Professor Dumbledore!" he exclaimed when he saw the old wizard. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I see that you are almost ready, Harry," Dumbledore looked around the bare room. "The train leaves in an hour."

Harry froze. Very little time remained to ask Dumbledore the thing that had haunted him for days.

"Professor?" he kept his eyes on his trunk as he spoke. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Voldemort told me he had taught Dark Magic to my mother!" Harry tried to control the sudden anger the memory had evoked. "That can't be true!"

"I'm afraid I don't know, Harry," Dumbledore told him. That was the truth.

"But Professor Snape does," Harry said bitterly.

Dumbledore realized in a flash that Harry must have listened in on the conversation that night in the staffroom. How much did he now know? Dumbledore thought back to what was said. Not much. Only enough to know that there was something being concealed from him about his parents.

"Yes," he admitted, "I believe he does."

"And he won't tell!"

"No."

They stood in silence for a moment; Harry struggling with fury, Dumbledore with discouragement.

Finally Harry chose to set aside his bitter thoughts. There was so much for him to be happy about.

"I can't believe I'm going to live with Sirius," he said. "Finally!"

"I'm sure you will be very happy," Dumbledore replied, but Harry could see that his eyes remained sad.

"Aren't you happy for me, Professor?" he asked, a little hurt that Dumbledore didn't share in his excitement.

"Of course," Dumbledore replied, speaking only the half-truth.

He didn't doubt that Harry would be happy with Sirius. Perhaps far happier than he could be with Snape. But what about when the truth came to light? Dumbledore had no doubt that someday, somehow, it would. Harry had only a few years of childhood left, someday he might come to see them as time that was wasted. No matter what the circumstances of their separation, no father and son could forge a relationship quite as strong once the child was a man himself. A rift would always remain, unless the few years that were left were used to build a bridge between them.

Somehow Dumbledore knew that when Harry returned to Hogwarts for his fifth year of study, Snape would treat him as callously as he had always done before. And later, when the truth was known, it might just be too late.

Harry had closed his trunk, the click of the lock registering in Dumbledore's mind with a cold finality.

They walked in silence to the entrance hall, where Sirius waited. In the distance the unmistakable whistle of the Hogwarts Express could be faintly heard.

Snape heard it too, down in the dungeons.

He ignored it, trying to bury his thoughts in the book in front of him, though the words seemed to dance across the page. Frog eyes . . . two grams of lizard tongue . . . a pinch of powdered root of asphodel . . . he didn't know or care what potion he was making, and the cauldron on his desk spat angry red flecks onto his robes.

They would be gone in another few minutes. But what did it matter? He would see the boy when the term started. Could continue to watch him from a distance, the way he had always done, ever since that blasted Sorting Hat had screamed out Gryffindor! and placed his son into a rival house!

At least he wouldn't have to see much of Black anymore, he thought bitterly.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts position would be open again this year, but even if Dumbledore failed to offer it to him, Snape knew with certainty that he would not dare to offer it to Sirius. Maybe Lupin would get the job again. Snape didn't care.

It's done! He heard the newly installed iron door of Hogwarts shut with a clang somewhere above, at the same time as his cauldron finally boiled over and a scarlet flood spilled over the desk to the dungeon floor.

He left the room, letting the door slam shut after him, and headed for the Astronomy Tower, the only place at Hogwarts from which he could watch the train depart.