Spinner's End, Snape's House
Bellatrix stepped forward from behind the sofa like an enraged lioness.
The black eyes in her sockets burned with pure madness, her fists clenched so tight they creaked, and her voice, sharp as a poisoned dagger, sliced through the dead silence of the room:
"If it weren't for that boy Holmes, the Dark Lord would have already—"
"Already killed Harry Potter, is that it?"
Snape's voice was low and even. He lifted his heavy eyelids, his gaze sweeping past Bellatrix, the corner of his mouth was curling into a thick sneer. "Do not tell me that's actually what you believe."
"And isn't it?"
Bellatrix's voice rose even higher, shrill as nails scraping glass.
Her wild eyes swept the room, over her anxious, fidgeting sister, over her pale-faced brother-in-law Lucius, and finally fixed on Snape like a viper sinking in its fangs.
"The entire wizarding world knows that name now!
Every wizard knows that this boy Holmes had the audacity, in his very first year, to stop the Dark Lord from getting the Sorcerer's Stone!
If it weren't for him, the Dark Lord would have already recovered his full power, and would already be ruling over the entire magical world!"
She roared out her hatred for Holmes with everything she had.
"If that is truly what you believe, then all I can say is that you did not spend your years in that Azkaban cell unjustly."
Snape leaned back against the chair, both hands resting on the arms, and looked at Bellatrix's furious face with a faint smile as he spoke slowly.
"What did you say?!"
Bellatrix completely exploded.
No longer content to stay behind the sofa, she swept around it in a gust of malice, striding straight up to Snape's chair and looming over him.
"You spineless, opportunistic coward!
What right do you have to judge me?
When the Dark Lord fell from power, where were you? Hiding like a rat in the gutter?
After he vanished, where were you then? Why didn't you go sniffing after his trail like a loyal hound?
A full decade and more! Playing the docile pet under that old senile fool Dumbledore's hand—what shameful, unspeakable business were you really up to?
When the Dark Lord was reborn in that graveyard, when his glory returned to this world, why didn't you throw yourself at his feet at once?
Just weeks ago, when we fought our way out of the blood and corpses in Azkaban to win back our freedom, for the Dark Lord's great cause—were you brewing your slug potions in the warm dungeons of Hogwarts?"
She was panting hard, spitting out each word.
"You are not even worth as much as Wormtail—that miserable wretch. At least he offered up his soul for the Dark Lord and endured the Dementor's Kiss!" She finally fell silent, her chest was heaving violently, her cheeks were flushed purple, her maddened eyes looked ready to tear apart the man she so despised.
Behind her, Lucius Malfoy's lips moved, as though he wanted to speak and ease this deadly standoff, but Narcissa seized his sleeve and yanked him back.
Narcissa's pale face was filled with worry and pleading. Lucius's Adam's apple bobbed once, and in the end, he chose silence, only watching Snape with tension.
Snape looked as though he hadn't even registered the threat looming over him from Bellatrix. His obscure black eyes met her wild, staring gaze directly, and he said coldly.
"Before I answer this string of—oh yes, Bellatrix, I do intend to answer these utterly foolish accusations of yours.
You may go and repeat every word of mine, clearly and precisely, to those pitiful little worms who hide in dark corners pointing fingers at me and spinning their wild speculations.
And you may add whatever embellishments you like to your fantastical tale of my betrayal and report it straight to the Dark Lord himself."
He paused, his tone growing even colder.
"But before I begin, I must correct one revolting error of yours.
Comparing me to Wormtail—that vile, filthy, useless creature—is nothing short of an insult to me!"
At least he gave his soul for the Dark Lord!
Yes, yes, admirable spirit, a most touching gesture."
Snape said this in a dry tone, the mockery in his voice was utterly unrestrained.
"A shame it accomplished nothing at all—and instead turned your own brother from a renowned Death Eater into a hero of the resistance against the Dark Lord, did it not?"
"Snape! Sirius is Sirius, and I am I! Do not lump us together!"
"You see, the two of you really are true siblings—the moment I compare you, you flare up just the same."
"Am I flaring up?"
"Are you not?"
Snape said with a cold smile.
"I want you to understand something painfully simple, and yet something none of you seem capable of grasping:
What the Dark Lord requires has never been the process!
No matter how much effort you have poured in, how much blood and tears you have shed, even if you sacrificed your very life, your very soul— If in the end you failed to achieve the goal he wanted, then all of that so-called sacrifice is worth nothing in his eyes! Utterly useless!
Oh, of course, you may not understand this. Perhaps you would rather find kinship with something like Wormtail?
After all, you spent all those years rotting in Azkaban, contributing not the slightest practical benefit to the Dark Lord's great cause—but that unyielding, defiant posture of yours is, without question, quite the sight to behold. Very suitable for moving yourself to tears—and certain other fools equally lacking in judgment."
"Posture!"
The word ignited Bellatrix instantly, and she let out a piercing shriek.
In her fury, she seemed barely able to contain her own madness any longer.
"I! Endured the Dementors' torment day and night in Azkaban, had every ounce of happiness sucked from me, suffered in despair and cold!
And you! Hid in the warm, comfortable dungeons of Hogwarts Castle!
Playing the pampered pet of that senile old fool Dumbledore, comfortably and at ease!
Enjoying the status and peace of a professorship!"
"That is not so."
Compared to the frenzied Bellatrix, Snape remained far calmer.
"Even now, Dumbledore still refuses to give me the Defence Against the Dark Arts post.
He seems to believe, as you know, that it would corrupt me all over again—tempt me back down my old path."
"Ha! And that is the sacrifice you made for the Dark Lord? Not being allowed to teach your favourite subject?"
She sneered. "So then why have you stayed there all this time, Snape? Still secretly watching over Dumbledore, for a master you believed dead?"
"Perhaps not."
Snape spoke as flatly as before.
"But the Dark Lord was quite pleased that I never gave up my post.
That way, once he returned, I could offer him sixteen years' worth of intelligence on Dumbledore. Sixteen years!
Compared to certain people, who can only endlessly relive that pitiful ordeal in Azkaban, rambling on about meaningless suffering.
Or like Wormtail, left nothing more than a soulless, useless husk—my work is worth a great deal more than that.
And yet certain people—"
His gaze finally settled on Bellatrix's face, and he said softly.
"—remain utterly unaware of this, and even wear the suffering they endured as a medal to flaunt before their master, as though it deserves reward.
Of course, admirable spirit. This posture of loyalty deserves recognition—though, as ever, it accomplishes nothing at all."
Snape seemed to possess some devilish gift, an innate ability to speak the most maddening, cutting words in the calmest, most untroubled tone imaginable.
The effect was instantaneous.
Bellatrix let out another shrill scream, one that barely sounded human.
Her whole body shook violently with rage, and her wand snapped up—clearly meaning to curse Snape without a second thought.
Lucius and Narcissa both went pale at once and rushed forward, seizing an arm each and holding Bellatrix back.
"Calm yourself, Bella." Narcissa tried to reason with her.
"Cissy, how am I supposed to calm myself!" Bellatrix wrenched free of her sister.
"You never needed to calm yourself in the first place."
Snape's gift for pouring oil on the fire had reached its peak. He calmly straightened his cuffs.
"All of my intelligence goes directly to the Dark Lord. And since he hasn't seen fit to tell you—"
He deliberately let his voice trail off, leaving a dangerous silence hanging.
"He tells me everything! I am the one he trusts most!" Bellatrix was seething.
"Is that so?"
Snape's tone shifted slightly, revealing disbelief. "If that were truly the case, why not go and ask him yourself—ask him why he still chooses to trust me, even now?"
"If he wanted to tell me, he would tell me! I don't need you stirring up discord here!
He has said that I am his most loyal, most reliable—"
Bellatrix's voice grew even sharper, though the conviction behind it had clearly weakened.
"And yet he did not tell you."
Snape cut her off outright.
"Which only proves that he does not think you ought to know. Or—judging from how you're behaving right now—I daresay 'undeserving of knowing' fits rather better."
"Snape—! You—!"
"Severus, that will do." Narcissa gave Snape a somewhat helpless look.
Lucius also spoke up in warning. "Sev—"
"First of all, allow me to remind you both, it was you who came to me today. You were the ones seeking my help."
Snape said this flatly.
"And yet your sister-in-law here has, from the moment she stepped through my door until now, refused to trust me at every turn—questioning my loyalties, and going so far as to hurl a series of quite discourteous accusations at me."
"My apologies, Severus," Lucius said instantly. "That is our fault."
"I imagine the two of you had no intention of bringing her along in the first place. She insisted on coming herself, didn't she?"
Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a quick glance, their eyes full of resignation and a trace of embarrassment at being so plainly seen through but before either could open their mouths to protest—
"It doesn't matter."
Snape waved his hand as if brushing away an irritating fly.
"As for the matter you raised a moment ago, my view remains unchanged. There is simply no need to place so much importance on Holmes. Your worry is nothing more than manufactured anxiety."
"No need? Snape, he is the darling of the Daily Prophet right now!
He has completely eclipsed that so-called 'Boy Who Lived,' Potter!
He uncovered a decade-old truth, exposed a professor's disguise, and stopped the Dark Lord more than once...
That Mudblood girl has turned all of it into legend! And you say there's no need to take him seriously?!"
Bellatrix said this mockingly, as though she had just heard the joke of the century, clearly not believing a word of what Snape had said. Lucius and Narcissa, too, watched Snape with curious eyes.
Lucius most of all. Out of caution, he had not even told his own wife about Sherlock.
In fact, if it weren't for needing to go through his son Draco to reach Sherlock, he wouldn't even have told his son.
But now he found himself faintly regretting it. Because he had taken such an enormous risk to pass along the information, only to find that the righteous side seemed just as unprepared as before.
This left an uneasy weight on his heart, and he began to wonder whether he had chosen the wrong side after all.
As it happened, Voldemort had just assigned his son a seemingly impossible task, and his wife believed Snape could help—so he had simply gone along with it and come with her.
But now Snape was saying that Holmes was nowhere near as formidable as they'd imagined.
Was this contempt, or was it—
His gaze flickered; his eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Snape.
"He does have a bit of cleverness, I'll admit, but in my view, it's hardly worth mentioning.
Don't tell me you've read that book, A Study in Scarlet, and taken it to mean the fellow is genuinely impressive?
In fact, I had already discovered on my own that the greedy, incompetent Quirrell intended to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, and I did everything in my power to stop him.
As for the so-called 'Lion King,' he was nothing more than a pawn Dumbledore deliberately paraded about to distract everyone's attention."
"A pawn—you're calling that boy a pawn?" Bellatrix clearly still refused to believe it.
"What else would he be?"
Snape curled his lip, the contempt in his gaze not the least bit feigned.
"I admit, the first time I saw his performance, I was genuinely curious.
But I quickly discovered he possesses no extraordinary talent at all.
After close observation, I can tell you plainly: he has no so-called extraordinary gift to speak of.
Muggle trickery, combined with a streak of absurdly good luck. That's all it is.
And yet the odd success leaves him thoroughly pleased with himself—quite insufferable.
I tried everything within my power to have him thrown out of Hogwarts. I don't believe he ever deserved to set foot in it.
Only a complete and utter fool would believe that a Muggle-born wizard could stop the Dark Lord using Muggle methods!
When he is, without question, the greatest wizard in the history of mankind, the most accomplished master of Legilimency the world has ever produced!
And yet you would rather believe an article written by another Muggle-born little girl!
If he's truly so formidable, why couldn't he stop the two of you from breaking into Azkaban?"
Snape delivered this entire speech as though he believed every word of it himself.
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