"You could have crafted it," Bones suggested, once the giggles had died down. "You're a Potion Master. You could have switched the boy's potion or adulterated it in some way so as to convert it to a deadly poison."
"I see," Snape sneered. "And I'm supposed to have engaged in this sleight of hand under the magical eye of Auror Moody? Presumably he didn't notice because he was off daydreaming? Or perhaps he is so fond of me he felt he could relax his 'constant vigilance' while in my classroom?" he inquired sarcastically.
"Then what is your explanation for these events?"
"As I am not on your payroll, Madame, I see no need to offer an explanation," Snape retorted coldly. "However, I would point out that it is well known that students enjoy pranking each other by slipping things into each other's potions. That said, I cannot imagine you would seriously propose to interrogate every student in this room."
Draco, watching this exchange as closely as the rest of the class, reacted to this challenge predictably. "My father would never permit such a thing!" he announced arrogantly, every inch the Malfoy scion.
"Nor mine!" Pansy agreed shrilly.
"I don't think my parents would want me to be interrogated!" Parvati Patil exclaimed in alarm, prompting Lavender Brown to loudly agree.
As Slytherins and Gryffindors alike began chiming in, Bones realized it would be political suicide to push the matter further тАУ and unlikely to prove anything useful anyway. She glanced over to Moody, silently querying whether he had seen Snape do anything.
The grizzled old Auror shook his head and, knowing the man's hatred for Snape, she accepted that and decided to back off gracefully. After all, it wasn't as if she was upset at the outcome. One more dead Death Eater тАУ and the betrayer of the Potters to boot тАУ was something to be celebrated, and with that idiot Fudge in office, not to mention Voldemort hanging around Merlin knew where, she would just as soon have the rat animagus safely dead.
Still, the proprieties had to be observed, especially with a reporter documenting the whole thing and the scandal of Sirius Black making everyone all too aware of what could happen when fair trials weren't provided. "It would seem to have been an accident," she declared. "Making that grab for the Potter boy proved his undoing тАУ there's some poetic justice in that, I suppose." She glanced over at Harry. "You all right there, young man?"
"Yes, Madame Bones," Harry said politely, but she could see that several of the children, including one of Arthur Weasley's lot and Augusta Longbottom's grandson, had moved to flank him protectively.
"We can thank Merlin that none of the children were harmed," Dumbledore said soothingly. "The potion accident was obviously just that: a dreadful accident." He clapped his hands. "And now I think it's time for the students to hurry along to their next class. Under the circumstances, the prize giving will have to be canceled, don't you agree, Severus?"
"Alas, yes," Snape replied calmly.
The children, knowing an order when they heard one, even if it was gently phrased, gathered their books and started to file out, widely skirting the puddle of slime and gristle that had been Pettigrew.
Harry paused by his guardian on his way out, stopping to look up into the man's dark and fathomless eyes. "Run along, Potter," Snape said firmly, but the hand that dropped to the boy's shoulder was gentle. "I will see you tonight in our quarters."
Harry relaxed and nodded, following Hermione and Ron out the door.
"Remus, perhaps you will escort Miss Skeeter to my office so she can floo to the paper? I'm certain she has a busy afternoon ahead of her," Dumbledore twinkled.
Skeeter didn't even look up when Remus gently took her by the arm and steered her out the door; she was too busy dictating the story to her automatic quill. At this rate, she'd be a shoo-in for Journalist of the Year!
"Goodbye, Headmaster. Goodbye, Professor." Every inch the proper young pureblood, Draco nodded politely as he passed in front of them on his way out of the classroom.
"Mr Malfoy," Snape replied, his tone neutral. He exchanged a special, knowing look with the boy, whose timely outburst of aristocratic arrogance had been extremely convenient. Draco's expression didn't change one iota тАУ Lucius had taught him well тАУ but his silvery eyes gleamed.
"A moment, Mr Longbottom." Snape halted the stocky boy as the last student made ready to leave. "Given the fact that your potential for unintentional destruction has reached new heights," he said acidly, "I will be contacting your grandmother later today to suggest that you are excused from regular potions class, effective immediately. Instead, I will suggest to her that you study privately, one on one, with a special remedial Potions tutor. Perhaps individual instruction, coupled with a curriculum that emphasizes the close ties between Herbology and Potions, will ensure that no one else perishes during your training."
Neville's eyes grew huge with delight. "Really, sir? Will you?" He caught sight of Madame Bones and abruptly muted his response. "Erm, yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He was unable to conceal the happy skip to his step as, clutching Trevor, he fled the classroom, hopefully for the last time.
Shacklebolt, as the junior-most Auror present, had gloomily accepted the unpleasant task of collecting what Moody had termed "Pettigoo", and Bones and Moody got ready to depart.
Madame Bones paused on the threshold of the classroom and gave Snape a speculative look. "About my niece's performance in your class," she began slowly.
"Susan?" Snape said mildly. "An excellent student. I'm sure she will do very well this year."
"Hmmmm." Bones' expression grew even more pensive, but she departed without another word.
Moody started to follow her, then paused, glancing from Dumbledore to Snape and back again. Unexpectedly, he reached out and shook Snape's hand, saying. "I hear you've done well by the Potter boy."
Snape blinked incredulously. A kind word from Moody was nearly as much of a shock as Black's apology had been.
"Reckon you'd've given the Artful Dodger some competition!" the Auror commented obscurely, then limped away after his boss.
The Headmaster stared after the old Auror for a moment then turned and gave Snape a very sharp look. The Potion Master returned the look blandly, and after a moment, Dumbledore sighed.
"I hope you know I am not the enemy, my boy," the older wizard said sadly.
Snape nodded silently but he thought, Not being the enemy doesn't necessarily mean being a friend, Albus. You should have learned that lesson from the Dursleys.
Dumbledore sighed again. "Sometimes, my boy, I worry that you see everything in such black and white terms. Please remember that we all deserve mercy." With one last look at where Shacklebolt was gingerly mopping up the last of the dead Gryffindor, Dumbledore departed.
Snape glared after him; it had been a long, difficult day and it would have been nice to get a little acknowledgement of how brilliantly he had pulled the whole thing off. But what could he expect from a non-Slytherin?
Anyway, Dumbledore was just too committed to the notion of happy endings тАУ his greatest weakness was his refusal to admit that some are beyond redemption and helpтАж and to act accordingly.
No one knew better than Snape that redemption hurts, and few people were willing to put in the hard work and pain that it required, no matter what they might wish and/or say. He turned a hard look onto Pettigrew's remains. Whatever Albus' preferences, Snape wasn't about to risk Harry's welfare in the hopes that that someone who had already proven his enmity might be turned back to the Light. If that made him тАУ a grateful beneficiary of the Headmaster's mercy тАУ a hypocrite, so be it. He was prepared to accept that label if it meant that Harry would be safe.