Harry Potter One Shots

(1) Reconciliation

All rights belong to the author, MaxArkem

The Great Hall was sullen and silent over dinner, as it had been for months. Snape looked out over the sea of downturned faces at the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables. Slytherin house, alone of all of them, seemed to be flourishing under the new conditions. From the headmaster's chair, Snape noted, again, the handful of upper-year students who had gathered a following. They sat, self-satisfied, at the centre of attention in small groups up and down the table. Their particular aptitudes for torture had made them popular with the Carrows; Slytherins knew it paid to be friends with the Carrows' favourites.

A handful of Slytherins no longer sat at the Slytherin table. A few, refusing to play along, had joined the Hufflepuff table at the beginning of term; the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had refused them, but several upper-year Hufflepuffs had taken the Slytherin defectors, (as they were quietly known among the other houses) under their wing. Snape let his gaze drift across the tables, noting the eddies in the room, the points of power. Longbottom sat, upright and defiant, in a cluster of his friends. Dumbledore's Army was being driven underground, slowly but surely, but Longbottom would probably be the last to go. Snape felt a grudging respect for the boy's courage.

Amycus belched, and tapped his shoulder. Stifling his disgust, Snape turned to face his ruddy-faced interlocutor.

"Headmaster," the Death Eater slurred, half-drunk on wine, grinning like a fool, "I think it's time we finally taught the Slytherin Traitors a bit of a lesson. Blood traitors, the lot, you know. Give the troops some practice with the Cruciatus." Alecto, at her brother's side, giggled and nodded.

Snape carefully set his silverware down. He could feel McGonagall's eyes boring into the back of his head. He chose his words with care.

"The Dark Lord could care less if a handful of children would prefer to hide behind the skirts of Hufflepuff." He met Amycus's beady eyes squarely. "Let them be. Their treachery binds the rest of the House together."

The Carrows grunted, annoyed. "It'd be fun though," Alecto whined. "You're not protecting them, are you Severus?"

Snape allowed a flash of his own irritation to show through. Though they tried to hide it, the siblings flinched. "Enough." His nostrils flared. "You're both drunk, and making fools of yourselves. Get out of here before you embarrass yourselves, and the Dark Lord, any further."

Amycus looked stung, but Alecto's eyes narrowed. "Whatever you say, headmaster." She took her brother by the arm. "Come on, you."

Snape watched them leave, as did every other eye in the room. He ruled at Hogwarts, perhaps, but the Carrows inspired the fear he used to maintain order. When the door shut behind them, the room noticeably relaxed. Snape turned back towards the hall, and forced himself to eat another bite of food. He glanced around and met McGonagall's guardedly approving look. He looked away.

The Headmaster's quarters were cold and dark, but they were dry and clean, and the only place Snape was afforded the slightest solitude in the castle. Tonight, as he shut the door behind him, he felt, as every night, the sudden crush of stress and emotion. He glanced at the portraits dozing on the wall. Albus looked down at him, expressionless. Grimacing, Snape cast a silencing charm.

"So."

Albus peered at him over his half-moon spectacles. "Another day, Severus."

Snape collapsed into a chair. "I..." he hesitated. "I can't continue like this, Albus. It's destroying me."

The old wizard smiled, sadly. "I understand." He steepled his fingers, and leaned forward in his chair, looking down at Snape from on high. "You are doing a great thing by this, Severus. You are holding the fracturing pieces of this castle together as no one else could."