Chapter 6
TWO DAYS AFTER SIRIUS BLACK had been admitted to a fancy hospital in France for his 'critical injuries', Severus was sick of everything.
He personally felt that they were making a much bigger fuss over the small incident than they were supposed to. Black must be faking now, or perhaps he had already recovered and was currently spending the day in one of his family's many Manors being hand-fed exotic types of food on a literal silver spoon. Or perhaps gold.
He had not listened to Lucius Malfoy's suggestion of staying hidden in the Slytherin Common Room. Doing such a thing would be showing weakness and admitting defeat.
And Severus would not let them take pleasure in seeing him doing that.
He had been isolated by the whole school (except Lily sometimes, bless her) and he had visited the hospital wing twenty two times per day, and yes, he counted.
While the Slytherins were not doing anything to him directly, they had turned a blind eye to all the damage being done to him by the rest of the school, who had in turn, taken this as a green card for impacting danger on to him.
The truth was, Severus had more important things to worry about than silly students and their petty grudges.
The previous afternoon, he had received an official-looking envelope during dinner. It was sent by the Ministry, and had politely demanded his attendance in the next Wizengamot session that would take place in four days time.
Now, he had two days left to go, and he had still not found a way to get out of this mess.
Severus sat quietly at a spot on the Slytherin table that was the closest to the teacher's table, so that if anybody tried to harm him during dinner, the teachers would protect him.
The teachers were actually no better than the students. They themselves turned a bit of a blind-eye and practically ignored his complaints, giving the crime committing students nothing more than a warning (for the hundredth time) and taking away five points from the persons house.
But he knew that if he was hurt in front of their noses, then they would have to react. So, he took the chance.
Albus Dumbledore was just about to leave his office for dinner when the fireplace in his office erupted, indicating that somebody wanted to floo in. He frowned slightly, wondering who could possibly be arriving at this time, before giving his permission for the person to enter.
"Miss Black!" Dumbledore exclaimed cheerfully upon seeing the familiar face. "I'm glad you're looking well, my dear girl."
"Thank you, sir." Lyra dimpled.
Albus Dumbledore did not have to lie in his compliment. Lyra Black was truly gorgeous. For this visit, she was wearing a lovely black dress that matched the dark colour of her hair and highlighted her grey eyes. Her hair was in a complicated, twisted up-do and she wore simple looking (as much as it can be for a Black) diamond jewellery that contrasted wonderfully against the dress. A black scarf was circled around her neck, but what fascinated him the most was her shoes.
"Diamond heels, Miss Black?" He asked, amused. "Are they difficult to walk in?"
Lyra gave an almost unnoticeable shrug. "No more than regular heels."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Quite true, Miss Black. I remember that one day I wore heels... It wasn't a pleasant experience, but I like to believe I 'rocked' them, as you youngsters say nowadays." He mused.
Lyra gave him an amused expression. Her 'scarf' choose that moment to move, revealing itself to be a snake. A very poisonous one, if it was the correct species that Albus assumed it was.
Lyra seemed to notice his look. "Don't worry, Headmaster," She said in a mixture of calmness and amusement. "I have the anti-venom."
"Well that makes everything better." Dumbledore said cheerfully before a somber expression took over his face.
The snake hissed at him before unwrapping itself from her neck and slithering to the floor of his office. Then, it started to curiously wander around. Albus chose to ignore it.
He led the girl towards his desk and motioned for her to sit. She compiled. Her beautiful face began masking itself into the famous pureblood mask as soon as he started speaking.
"I apologise for not having prevented this incident before it occurred." He said regretfully.
Lyra kept looking at him expressionlessly.
"How fares young Mister Black's condition now?" Dumbledore asked, genuine concern in his eyes.
"Mother demanded I wear black for this visit." Lyra said instead, with a blank face and monotonous voice. "She said that we don't know when Sirius will die, so we best be ready. The Healers say that nothing short of a miracle can save him now, so mother has already started preparing for his funeral. She says that if he does die, then this way the funeral can happen immediately and I won't have to change outfits."
"I'm sorry." Dumbledore said again.
"Stop saying that." Lyra continued speaking in her emotionless voice. "Sorry won't help my brother."
Dumbledore smiled sadly at her words. "Then is there anything I can do to help?"
"You can help me find the Chamber of Secrets and let me trap Snape in it forever." Lyra said drily, but seriously. "Or you can throw him in the dungeons for now. And don't even try to deny it, I know Hogwarts has dungeons."
Dumbledore chuckled at her words, but refused to comment on either requests. "May I ask what House Black will be pressing for in the Wizengamot?" he asked politely.
"You can ask." Lyra smirked. "That doesn't mean I'll answer."
Dumbledore chuckled. "I suspect that much." he admitted.
"Although..." Lyra Black started. "You should know that whatever will happen at the Wizengamot in two days is all because of you, actually."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
Lyra tilted her head a little to the left and smiled, enhancing her heavenly features even more. "We decided early on that the options we would press for in the trial would be based on your actions to ensure justice to my brother."
Dumbledore looked into her eyes. Lyra held his gaze unflinchingly. Neither of them quitting.
Finally, Albus Dumbledore broke the contact and smiled wearily. "You are a very hard person to read, Miss Black."
Lyra gave a slight shrug. "You are lucky that it is me and not my father."
"Don't take this the wrong way my dear girl, but frankly, I would prefer your father." Dumbledore said bluntly.
Lyra laughed. "I do enjoy our talks, Headmaster."
"As do I," Dumbledore admitted. "Although I wish that this one could be held in better circumstances."
Lyra's eyes darkened as she gave him a smile. "I do not regret it, Headmaster. Somebody once told me that we understand people the most by the way they handle difficult times."
"Wise words." Dumbledore commented. "May I ask who said it?"
Lyra's lips curled upwards. "My youngest brother, Regulus did when he was six."
Dumbledore smiled. "I look forward to having him next year, then."
Lyra tsked. "That as well depends on how you handle this situation, Headmaster. My family has been studying at Hogwarts for generations over the centuries. However, we are more than willing to break this tradition and send Regulus to say... Durmstrang, perhaps, if it means that another son of House Black is not killed or put in his death bed at the age of eleven." Lyra said casually. "And who knows? Perhaps the other families might also find themselves to be like minded as us on this choice..." She mused.
Dumbledore gave her a stiff smile. "I see..." He trailed off.
Lyra leaned forward, her arms crossed on her chest. She lightly tilted her head. "You always talk about justice." She said. "Now was the time for you to show it in your actions as well, but you didn't. You can still change that now, though."
"What did you expect me to do?" Dumbledore asked tiredly. "You know that I cannot play the role of the Chief Warlock during the trial as I am first and foremost, the headmaster of Hogwarts. I will also have to abstain from participating in the trial."
"That doesn't mean you couldn't have influenced people to change their decisions." Lyra said, casually. "Don't get me wrong Headmaster, the House of Black has a solid decision on what we are going to do, and frankly, we don't need your help. You know as well as I do that Severus Snape was completely in the wrong in this, and the Wizengamot will know this as well. They will vote for anything that House Black pushes forward -even if they don't like us in general- simply because it will move their hearts and it will also make them appear as heartless monsters if they vote against us at such difficult times."
"They will also look like heartless monsters if they vote for a eleven year old boy to either go to Azkaban or become part of the Meghalugues' Act." Dumbledore said pointedly.
All humour from Lyra's face vanished. "Are you saying that what happened to my brother was alright? That he shouldn't be given justice? That his attacker should go unpunished?" She growled.
"No, Miss Black." Dumbledore stated calmly. "All I am saying is that please, rethink your decision with a calm mind. The future of a eleven year old boy is in your hands."
"The decision has already been taken by the elders." Lyra stated coldly. "It cannot be changed."
"It can, and we both know it." Dumbledore retorted. "We both are aware on how much you really influence your fathers and grandfather's decisions, whether you accept it or not. We both also know that you can turn this around if you wish."
Lyra laughed. "And what if I don't want to?" She asked, amused.
Albus Dumbledore leaned back on his chair. "Like I said, the future of an eleven year old boy is in your hands. I urge you to think about it again."
"I have already done so, and I completely stand by my choice." Lyra answered before she shook her head with a smiling face. "Never change, Headmaster." She said. "I admire how you are so... pathetically optimistic."
"Thank you my dear, I personally feel that the world needs more of it." Dumbledore smiled. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"You know I don't." Lyra answered. "You believe in second chances, I believe in my family's lawyers. Don't worry, Headmaster. We will make sure that Snape gets exactly what he deserves."
Dumbledore smiled stiffly.
"Anyway, getting back to the point," Lyra said. "I expected you to follow The Hogwarts Charter, Article two, subsection delta which states that should a student harm another student that causes or almost causes the student his or her life, then the student that caused the harm shall be expelled from the school. Then, he or she shall be exiled from the land, and should he return, he should be hanged." She said lazily, quoting the book almost word for word. "But since you didn't abide by the Charter, House Black will be taking matters into it's own hands at the Wizengamot."
Dumbledore kept smiling, although his smile seemed more forced now. "I see you have read the Charter properly." He commented, ignoring the last part. The answer to one of his first questions to her had now been cleared.
Lyra smirked. "With all due respect, sir, I am a Slytherin."
Dumbledore chuckled. "That you are."
Lyra leaned back on her chair now. "So?" She prompted. "The Hogwarts Charter mentions the words 'expelled immediately' quite clearly. Why hasn't the esteemed Headmaster done so already then?"
"Mr Snape's father is a muggle and his mother has all but denounced the magic world." Dumbledore answered. "He needs a place to stay until the trial, if only so that he doesn't escape during that duration."
Lyra laughed again. "That is the worst lie I have ever heard you say, Headmaster." She commented. "Getting soft?" She teased.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in good natured humour. "Maybe... I have heard that such a thing is a side-effect of old age."
Lyra smiled at him before proceeding to question him again."When were you planning to expel him?"
"The morning of the hearing." Dumbledore replied honestly.
"The moment he is expelled, you know as well as I do that nothing you say will matter. He won't be under your protection anymore." Lyra answered, just as honestly. "You can't do anything to stop this from happening. He deserves it."
"I can try." Dumbledore insisted.
"But you won't succeed." Lyra retorted. "You reap what you sow, isn't that right Headmaster?"
Dumbledore gave her a sad smile. "Yes. Yes, it is."
Lyra smirked. "Glad you understand."
"When can we expect you to come back to school?" Dumbledore asked, changing the subject. "Assuming you are, of course. You mentioned Durmstrang."
"Durmstrang is too gloomy for my tastes." Lyra said offhandedly. "And don't even bother to mention Beauxbaton, Headmaster. Aunt Cassiopeia would skin me alive if I dare think of that option."
Dumbledore chuckled again. "I assume that Miss Cassiopeia Black still holds a distaste for France?"
"Always. She'll take it with her to the grave." Lyra smiled. "As for when I, my cousins and dear god brother will be returning to school, well, I suppose we shall return a day after Sirius is healed, or a day after his funeral. It depends." She answered monotonously.
Dumbledore flinched slightly at her tone.
"I shall take my leave now, Headmaster." Lyra said, standing up. "I look forward to seeing you in two days."
Dumbledore stood up with her, and walked her to the floo. "You as well, my dear. I shall pray for young Sirius black's health." he told her sincerely.
Lyra nodded at him. "Phoebus, to me!" She called out.
The Black Mamba snake that had been slithering around obediently came towards her and wrapped itself around her neck, looking like an expensive scarf to complete her attire.
She gave the Headmaster one last smile and then disappeared as the flames of the floo engulfed her.
Albus Dumbledore sat back tiredly in his chair after Lyra Black left. His appetite for dinner was gone, which was a shame because his favourite dish was being made tonight. But he had more important matters to worry over.
Albus Dumbledore was at a bit of a dilemma.
For starters, he knew that what Severus Snape had done was wrong. Sirius Black was literally fighting for his life in an intensive care unit at a hospital in France because of Mr Snape.
However, this trial could also ruin and even kill Mr Snape's life. If the Black's choose to not activate Meghalugues' Act, then Mr Snape would no doubt go to Azkaban and serve a fate worse than death. Not even mentioning those two possibilities, Lyra Black was right. He would have to definitely expel Severus Snape from Hogwarts and then warn him that should he -even by accident- step into Hogwarts or any of the Hogsmead properties, then he would publicly be hanged.
Which ever way it went, Severus Snape would be doomed.
And no matter how much he wanted to help both the boys, a part of him knew that he could neither help either of them.
"Did I miss anything?" Lyra asked with concern flooding her voice.
After meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore, she had directly floo'ed over to the main Black Manor (fondly dubbed the 'Planetarium'), where she found her parents and grandparents finalising last minute arrangements with their big band of lawyers to confirm everything for the next day.
After being satisfied with the progress being made and upon mirroring her family's vengeful look, Lyra Black had finally returned to the hospital in France (via an international portkey) where her god-mother, cousins, god-brother and youngest brother were still present and awaiting the news on Sirius's health.
Narcissa shook her head. "The healers say that he has shown no improvements."
"But thankfully he hasn't gotten worse, either." Andromeda pitched in, her voice filled with concern.
Lyra looked on with worry at the transparent door that separated her from her little brother. Sirius was sleeping so peacefully on the bed inside the room that you wouldn't have thought that anything was wrong with him. It tore her heart to see her brother that way.
She forced herself to look away from his sleeping peaceful face. "How are Regulus and James doing?"
"They fell asleep." Narcissa replied. "Lady Potter had to force them to eat something with the threat of taking them back home." Her eyes turned frosty now. "Snape will die for this."
Lyra laughed. "No. But by the time we are done with him, he will be begging for death. We will make sure he considers death to be a mercy in comparison."
Bellatrix laughed cruelly as she walked towards them from where she had previously been sitting. "It's too bad for him that the Black's have never been merciful."
Lyra smirked at her cousin's words and Narcissa gave them both a small smile.
"A little while ago, Dumbledore came by to check, by the way." Bellatrix informed the grey-eyed girl with a smirk. "I think you worried him just a little." She told her cousin, eyes sparkling in amusement.
Lyra smiled proudly. "I'm glad." She said.
"Do you think he will give legal-aid to Snape?" Narcissa asked curiously. "Him not participating in the trial does not stop him from giving legal advise."
"Oh he definitely will." Lyra admitted. "And I'm counting on it."
"Why?" Narcissa asked.
Lyra smirked. "Because the more Dumbledore tries to help Snape, in reality, the more scared he will make him."
Narcissa gave her a confused look. "How?"
Lyra simply continued smirking.
Bellatrix's eyes widened in realisation and she laughed. "Of course! The trial is completely in our favour. There is no way to tip the balance. The more advise Dumbledore tries to give him, the more dead-ends he will meet; and thus, he will be more frightened and will soon realise that he is trapped in a ditch that he cannot get out of." Bellatrix explained to her sister. She gave Lyra a proud look. "It's genius- to make himself frightened on realising that he has no options. Much more efficient than threatening him directly. His mind will do all the work for us." She smirked viciously.
Narcissa smirked as well upon hearing her answer.
If perhaps they all weren't so worried about Sirius's health and the trial, then maybe they would have paid more attention to Andromeda's reaction to the whole conversation.
One day before the trial, Severus Snape found himself seated inside the Headmaster's office. He felt nervous being right under the twinkling, knowing gaze of Albus Dumbledore and fidgeted with the ends of his shirt.
Albus Dumbledore smiled warmly at him. "Good morning, Mr Snape. I trust you had a good sleep?"
No. "Yes." Severus replied politely. "Thank you for asking. I hope you are well rested as well."
Albus Dumbledore chuckled. "I am, thank you for asking, my boy."
Severus stayed silent.
"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered. "It's quite tasty, if I have to say so myself."
"No." Snape said, a disgusted expression overtaking his face as he looked at the sweets.
Silence blanketed the room once again.
Dumbledore sighed. "I am sure you are aware of why I have called you here, but I will nevertheless repeat it out aloud just so there is no confusion." He said bluntly. "Tomorrow, you will be on trial in front of the whole of the Wizengamot, and my boy, you need to be very, very careful of what you will say. The Black's team of personal lawyers are -to be honest- ruthless. Anything that you say, can and will be held against you; so I advise you to think everything you say and the way you say it, numerous times before you actually say it." He said.
Severus did not reply verbally, but hung on to his Headmaster's words like it was spoken by god himself.
Dumbledore sighed again. The twinkle in his eyes had dimmed. "I will be honest with you, from tomorrow morning, I cannot help you directly. I will try my best to influence others regarding the verdict, but at the end, it all depends on the majority. But how I can help you now, is to teach you a couple of tricks on what to and what not to say; and you will find this extremely useful in the long run." he said. "Do you understand me?"
Severus nodded mutely.
Dumbledore looked pleased, but no less worried. "Excellent! But first, I feel the need to inform you about Mr Sirius Black's current condition."
Partying in his private island and being fed grapes on a gold spoon? Severus bitterly thought. Here he was being insulted, ridiculed and humiliated by the majority to whole of the school, while Black was no doubt being babied and comforted at the moment.
"You will find, Severus, that the way a spell is casted has a lot of effect on the result of the actual spell itself. You will also find that the execution of an imperfect spell is very different from that of a perfectly made spell. For starters, the imperfect spell is immensely more dangerous. That is the reason we ask you all to be careful and practise the spell many times in a safe environment before actually executing it." Dumbledore explained, his voice turned more somber with every word he spoke. Now, his twinkle was practically non-existence. "The purpose of the entrail-expelling curse is -much like it's name- is to expel your entrails. However, since this was your first -and hopefully, last- time performing the spell, you didn't do it correctly, I'm afraid; and that is what has left young Mr Black in the critical condition he is now."
Severus still didn't believe him. Black must be faking it.
Dumbledore seemed to know what he was thinking. "He is not faking it, my boy. I, myself, just visited Sirius Black at the hospital the previous evening. I have even talked to the healers incharge of him. Trust me, Severus, for he is truly not faking it; and I urge you to immediately remove such thoughts from your mind. Thoughts such as those are the ones that will make your trial even worse than it would no doubt be." He told him, his voice disapproving.
Severus looked down at his lap, his face red in a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
"Anyway, as I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "Instead of causing the intestines to be vomited out, the spell acted as a powerful rapturing curse instead, and caused both of Mr Black's intestines -big and small- to be destroyed. It also did a sizeable damage to a few of his other vital organs and caused minor internal bleeding." Dumbledore informed him, a frown on his face and concern shining in his eyes. "Unfortunately, having to repair and grow back internal organs is not as simple as regrowing bones and limbs, or perhaps re-building muscles. It is a very dangerous process, where even the slightest of errors can have life-impacting consequences. Some of the potions required for performing this procedure is extremely tricky and very hard to brew, thus making them difficult to acquire. Not to mention, that re-growing vital organs is something that can even make a fully-trained healer with years of experience under his belt, sweat. So, trust me when I say that this is far from a simple matter."
Dumbledore paused now. "The reason I am telling you this, is largely so that you know the true extent of the injuries you caused Sirius Black and so you can develop remorse -which for some reason, I am still not seeing in you- and the other reason is so you can strategise if this topic comes up tomorrow -and I have no doubt it will- and you will not be caught unawares." he told him. "Now, I can't do anything at your trial tomorrow, but today, I can offer you legal aid and counselling. Any questions or doubts you have, I will be happy to answer. My legal knowledge might not be as vast as a lawyer, but I like to think I am not that bad either..." Dumbledore smiled kindly at him. "I promise I will not give you any false hope, nor will I lie to you. In fact, I shall be nothing but bluntly honest."
Severus looked thoughtful. "Will I be representing myself tomorrow?"
"Excellent question!" Dumbledore commented. "And that, my boy, is your choice. You can ask for a lawyer to be provided for you, but I urge you to remember that you are going up against the Black's. And while they can't bribe, blackmail, manipulate or threaten the opposition lawyers -due to an oath that is compulsorily taken by the lawyers, there may be a chance tomorrow that the good, experienced and more smart lawyers will suddenly not work that day. You may be struck with a bad or inexperienced lawyer who might not do a thing." He admitted.
Severus thought over his words, the Headmaster was right.
"Would you say that it is better if I represent myself?" Severus asked.
"That depends on you." Dumbledore answered. "If you have a good -at least basic- understanding of the law, and if you trust nobody else, then yes; it is better if you represent yourself. Otherwise, a lawyer is recommended."
"Couldn't you ask one of your friends to volunteer tomorrow?" Severus asked. "Surely one of your friends is a lawyer?"
"They are." Dumbledore admitted. "And I already asked them. However, it seems that they already have a case to fight tomorrow."
"The Black's." Severus said, eyes widening in realisation. "They knew you would ask your friends, so they hired them first."
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Indeed, they did. And following rules, they cannot give legal aid or advise in any form to the opposition, that even includes to me, I'm afraid." He said. "So will you be going ahead with a court-appointed lawyer tomorrow?"
"I'll represent myself." Severus announced. "And would they be any lenient on the verdict since I am a minor?"
Dumbledore chuckled humourlessly. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He asked bitterly before shaking his head. "No. There is an old law that states that if a minor attempts or commits murder of a pureblood or half-blood, then for the duration of the trial and until after the official verdict is passed, he or she will be temporarily emancipated. That sadly means my boy, that you will be tried under the full force of the law."
Severus swallowed the urge to cry.
"Is there anything else you would like to ask?" Dumbledore enquired politely. "It would be best for you to not look clueless in front of the Court."
Severus knew that. Showing weakness only made you more of a target.
"Who do you think will support me?" Severus asked.
Dumbledore visibly cringed at his question.
That bad, huh?
The Headmaster gave him a wobbling smile.
"You said you would be honest." Severus pointed out wearily.
Dumbledore nodded hesitantly. "It depends..." He slowly started. "If one must categorise the Wizengamot, it would be in terms of three factions- the supremacists, the moderates and the optimists; or in other terms, the dark, neutral and light respectively. I personally doubt you shall receive any support from the supremacists, since the victim is a pureblood and a Black at that. The optimists, I can ask them to be open-minded but the entail-expelling curse is commonly considered dark magic. And the fact that you used it on a fellow classmate makes it more difficult to influence. The moderates are the wild cards. If the Black's lawyer's put up a good, moving case, then they would have the support of the moderates. I would say that you must be completely transparent in front of them. Perhaps you can make them feel pity or make them sympathise with you enough. But still-" Dumbledore abruptly stopped.
"Still?" Severus prompted.
"Since you will be tried as an adult, there is no way to avoid the twenty-five year Azkaban sentence for attempted or successful murder of a pureblood. And if the Black's activate the Meghalugues's Act like I have a feeling they will, then you are frankly, toast." Dumbledore blurted out.
Severus Snape blanched.
Albus Dumbledore gave him a small smile. "I am truly sorry, my boy, that I cannot help you more. All we can do now, is pray."
Severus scoffed. "Pray?"
"Pray." Dumbledore confirmed. "We pray for the health of Sirius Black. We also pray for the mercy of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black."
Severus Snape swallowed. "I think I'll take that lemon drop now."