For the Love of Hufflepuff
Part Two: The Badger and the Serpent

by Christina Teresa

Chapter Four: Insult to Injury

It was a cold, but clear December afternoon; the first clear day in over a week. Raging storms had strewn branches and debris all over the usually immaculate grounds. Veronica had just paid a visit to Professor Sprout in the greenhouse. As she often did, Sprout gave her former student a plant for her office. Veronica had not been kidding when she told Neville Longbottom that she had a brown thumb. Not one of the plants Sprout had given her had lasted more than two weeks. Veronica decided instead to give it to Hagrid for his cabin. Certainly, the little plant ran the risk of being eaten by one of Hagrid's interesting but dangerous creatures, but she suspected it had a better chance of survival than if it remained in her hands.

Veronica stopped suddenly near the pumpkin patch and almost dropped the plant when another horrific flashback hit her. Ever since Severus had discovered the scars on her wrists, Veronica had found the memories of the reasons behind her suicide attempt invading her mind more frequently than ever before. If it happened when she was alone, she could handle it, but that was increasingly not the case. Yesterday, she had been standing in front of a classroom full of students when a flashback had struck her. She had been forced to run out into the corridor to collect herself. Veronica took a deep breath and pushed the thought into the back of her mind. The Memory-Suppression Spells she had been using for years were becoming less and less effective. I'll dump it all in the Pensieve tonight, she promised herself. It was the same promise she hadn't kept for two years.

As she approached a cluster of bushes, the sound of cruel laughter reached her ears and made her blood run cold. She put the plant down and, as quietly as she could, crept into the clearing beyond the shrubbery. She discovered three boys she immediately recognized as Messrs. Crabbe and Goyle and their leader, Draco Malfoy, squatting on the ground trifling with something. As she came closer, Veronica could see Malfoy had his wand out and was pointing it at a frog. The frog was twitching and writhing horribly. She didn't have to hear the words to know that the poor creature was being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse. She couldn't see Malfoy's expression as he had his back to her, but the profiles of Crabbe and Goyle were twisted into savage expressions of delight. Such fury as she had not let herself feel in years washed over her. Veronica drew her wand and screamed, "EXPELLIARMUS!"

Malfoy whipped his head around as his wand flew out of his hand and into hers. Crabbe and Goyle took one look at Veronica in twin shock and ran away, leaving their beloved leader to meet his fate alone. Malfoy looked as if he, too, was about to bolt, but his desire to retrieve his property proved stronger. He angrily ran over to her. "Give me back my wand!"

Veronica looked him right in the eye and broke his wand in half.

"You can't do that!" he cried. "That wand cost more than you make in a year!"

"Well, then," she hissed, "you should be more careful where you point it."

Hagrid came barreling out of his cabin and ran to the arguing pair, moleskin overcoat flapping behind him. "I heard shoutin'. You all right, Vee?"

"I'm fine, Hagrid, which is more than I can say for this poor frog." She pointed to the contorted creature on the ground. "Apparently, Mr. Malfoy thinks it's funny to torture animals."

Hagrid's eyes narrowed and he regarded Malfoy dangerously. "Torturin' animals, eh? Dumbledore'll have you out for this. 'Bout time, too."

Malfoy sneered at the immense man, but held his tongue.

The crippled frog continued to twitch. Veronica had to stop herself from turning her wand on Malfoy. She pointed it instead at the dying creature. "Avada Kedavra!" With a flash of green light the frog was mercifully still.

The half-giant took a step back, a look of fearful respect on his face. Even Malfoy seemed impressed, though Draco's countenance quickly returned to its familiar expression of haughty disdain.

"Hagrid," said Veronica in a tone of forced calm, "I was wondering if you would be so kind as to help me escort Mr. Malfoy to the Headmaster's office."

Hagrid grabbed a handful of Malfoy's robes in his huge hand. "Be my pleasure, Professor."

*

As Snape made his way to Dumbledore's office, he steeled himself for what promised to be an unpleasant conference. Unpleasant because he would have to defend Draco Malfoy against Veronicaãsomeone he was beginning to see as less of an annoyance and more of a friend. He just hoped she would eventually understand why he took the position he was forced to take.

Snape gave the password to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office and climbed the spiral staircase. He knocked on the polished oak door with its brass knocker, but could not be heard over the shouting; so he let himself in. Veronica and Draco Malfoy were yelling at each otherãsomething about a frog. Dumbledore, his elbow propped up on his desk with his chin in his hand, was obviously allowing the pair to blow off steam, but appeared relieved when he gazed up and saw Severus. The Headmaster called for a temporary cease-fire while he brought Snape up to speed.

Snape pulled up a chair next to Malfoy and sat down. "You must have been mistaken, Professor Stanley. Where would a young boy learn the Cruciatus Curse?" Snape knew the question to be ludicrous but he had a part to play.

Veronica snorted. "I assure you, Professor Snape, I know the Cruciatus Curse when I see it."

"While we're on the subject of Unforgivable Curses," Malfoy pointed an accusatory finger at Stanley. "She used the Killing Curse right in front of me to kill that frog she says she cares so much about."

"Only after you crippled it!" she replied.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, "Professor Stanley has special permission from the Ministry to use those curses."

Malfoy tried to muster a look of concern. "But what if she starts using them on students?"

Veronica glowered at the boy as if to say, 'Don't tempt me.'

Malfoy shook his head with a condescending grin on his face. "All this fuss over a frog. It's irrational. Father will not be pleased when he finds out that an hysterical woman with knowledge of the Unforgivable Curses is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That's enough, young man," Dumbledore said firmly. "For this transgression you will be assigned a week's detention. You will assist Mr. Filch in cleaning out the rain gutters on the castle towers. Don't worry, you'll have company. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle will be joining you."

"A week?!" Malfoy whined. "I'll miss Quidditch practice! We have a game in just over a week against Gryffindor."

"A week does seem excessive," Snape said, casting a practiced scowl at Stanley. "After all, it was just a frog." His comment had the desired effect. Veronica fumed, but she also looked hurt. Honorable people were so easy to manipulate.

"A week it is," replied the Headmaster. "You're very lucky I don't pull you off the Slytherin Quidditch team for this. If it happens again, you'll be expelled. Dismissed."

A furious Draco rose to leave then pointed to his broken wand on the Headmaster's desk. "What about my wand?"

Snape picked up the two pieces and examined them "I'm certain Ollivander can repair it. Might I suggest Headmaster, that the cost of repairs be deducted from Professor Stanley's wages?"

"What?!" Veronica cried, outraged.

Snape glared at her coldly. "Though confiscating the boy's wand might have been appropriate under the circumstances, you don't have the right to destroy his property."

Veronica turned to Dumbledore for support, but the old wizard eyed her apologetically.

"I'm afraid Professor Snape has a point. Disarming the boy should have been enough. I'm sorry, Veronica."

She sighed. "Well, there goes my new broom."

Malfoy smirked at Veronica in triumph and left the Headmaster's office.

"Thank you both for your overwhelming support," she said, scowling at Snape and Dumbledore. "Severus, I cannot understand why you allow that little monster to get away with murder."

Snape and Dumbledore gave each other a significant look.

"Veronica," the Headmaster began, "Severus has told me that you know of his spying activities before Voldemort's downfall. He trusts youãas do Iãto tell you that he is once again infiltrating the Death Eaters in order to gain information so we can fight Voldemort. Because of this, his loyalties must remain vague."

Her expression softened a little, but she still appeared annoyed. "So the broody, tortured demeanor; the bullying of Neville Longbottom and any other student who isn't a Slytherinãall an act?" Veronica asked the question as if she already knew the answer.

Snape looked away from her uncomfortably. "Well, not all of it." Even he had a hard time distinguishing fact from fiction sometimes. "I do what I have to do."

"I see," she said. "Oh, the bit about me paying for the wandãnice touch."

"If you can't afford it," Snape said, "perhaps I couldã"

Veronica snatched the pieces of the wand out of Snape's hand in irritation and shoved them in her pocket. "No, I'll take care of it. Wouldn't want you to blow your cover."

"It will placate the boy's father," Dumbledore said. "If you knew Lucius Malfoy you would understand why Draco is the way that he is."

She shook her head. "Certain sacrifices have to be made for the good of the wizarding community, is that it?"

"Yes, Veronica," the Headmaster replied.

"And in the meantime, innocent students might get hurt," Stanley said, her voice raising slightly. "Neither of you seriously believes Malfoy is restricting his tortures to small animals, do you? You should have expelled him."

"That boy would be even more dangerous outside of Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained. "His father would just send him to Durmstrang and his training as a Dark wizard would be completely unhampered. At least here we can keep an eye on him."

"Is that why you kept Professor Balin around, to keep an eye on him?" she blurted out suddenly. "Did it matter that he had access to children and was doingã?" Veronica stopped when she realized Snape and Dumbledore were staring at her. "IãI'm sorry... if you gentlemen will excuse me." She got up and rushed to the door.

"Veronica, I know something happened to you when you were a student here," Dumbledore said gently. "Perhaps now is a good time to get it off your chest."

She turned and laughed mirthlessly. "Get it off my chest?! It's funny that you should put it just that way." Veronica proceeded to unbutton the top three buttons of her robe. She pulled the fabric aside to reveal the area just above her heart.

Both men gasped.

Emblazoned on her chest was a grotesque tattoo of a skull with a snake for it's tongue. The Dark Mark! It wasn't black like a Death Eater's, it was only a shadowy outline. Snape had never seen one like it before.

"You see, I can't get it off my chest. Believe me, I've tried." She glanced at Snape. "I can't even hide it. It was burned into me when I was fifteen by Professor Balin." She glared at Dumbledore, her eyes welling with tears and rage. "You knew what he was. You let it happen!" Then Veronica ran out the door.

Snape watched the door slam, trying to absorb what he had just seen. So that's what Balin did to her! He wondered perversely what Voldemort would say if he knew that one of his most loyal servants had been burning the Dark Lord's symbol into innocent teenage girls.

"Severus," said Dumbledore looking even more distressed than Snape felt. "I need you to go after her. Veronica needs a friend right now."

"Me? Why me?" Snape protested. "Why don't you do it? You're so much better at this supportive friend business than I am."

"I doubt she'd be interested in anything I have to say."

"I'm sure she didn't mean what she said." Snape said this partly to reassure Dumbledore, but mostly to convince the old wizard that he rather than Snape was the right man for this job. When Dumbledore refused to budge, Severus sighed heavily and made for the door. This friend rubbish is overrated.

*

Snape found Veronica in her office, preparing to hurl her incredibly rare and outrageously expensive copy of the ancient Dark Arts text, the Infusco Diabolus, into the fireplace. Severus pulled it out her hand and put in back on the bookshelf. "If you don't want it anymore perhaps you should donate it to Hogwarts' library. We haven't had a copy in years. You wouldn't know what happened to the old one, would you?"

"He sent you here, didn't he?" she said, ignoring his question. "Probably afraid I'd slash my wrists again."

"Dumbledore is concerned," Snape replied as he sat down. "And I must admit that I am more than a little curious to know why Balin did that to you."

Veronica started to pace nervously. "He was an evil son of a bitch, what more reason do you need than that?"

"In my experience, even evil sons of bitches usually need some kind of motivation to do what they do."

"Well, perhaps you'd like to see for yourself." She took the Pensieve off the bookshelf and placed it on her desk. "I was just about to dump the memories in here. Something I've been meaning to do for a long time."

Memories? Was there more than one incident? As curious as he was, Snape didn't relish the idea of literally poking into someone else's past. "I thought perhaps you could just tell me what happened."

She took a step back from the stone basin and regarded it as if it were some kind of dangerous animal getting ready to bite her. "No, I think it would be better if you saw it. Maybe it isn't as bad as I remember. Perhaps I am just an hysterical woman."

He heard a note of challenge in her voice, but she looked as if she'd be grateful to not have to experience it alone. How bad could it be? Not only had Snape been Burned himself, he had witnessed Balin torture and kill on several occasions. It couldn't be any worse than what he'd already seen. Severus got up and stood next to the Pensieve. "All right then. Show me."

With a deep breath and a trembling hand, Veronica placed the tip of her wand to her temple and pulled out several silvery-white strands, placing each into the Pensieve. Snape soon saw the familiar image of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom come into focus.

Veronica tucked her wand back in her pocket and turned to Snape. "Ready?" He nodded as they both reached inside the basin and touched the silvery liquid...

Suddenly, he was hurtled headlong into a cold and dark whirlpool. Then, Professors Snape and Stanley stood unnoticed amongst the classroom full of fifth-year Hufflepuffs. It didn't take Snape more than a few seconds to recognize young Veronica sitting in the front row. She had the same unruly, curly brown hair and large, intelligent brown eyes. Stanley was a small woman, but as a tiny teenage girl, she barely looked twelve.

Professor Balin, as intimidating as Snape remembered him, glared at the Hufflepuffs with his piercing blue eyes, almost daring them to meet his gaze. "Your essays on Odras Demons left much to be desired, but when one is saddled with a class of Hufflepuffs, one cannot expect too much." He handed the essays back to each student. "Mr. Langdon, your atrocious spelling pales in comparison to your inability to compose even one coherent sentence. Miss Grey." He passed a paper to a pretty blonde girl in the third row. "A waste of ink and parchment, but more importantly, a waste of my time." Next, Balin handed a parchment to Veronica. "Miss Stanleyãmarginal. Mr. Pyecraft." A mousy boy sitting behind Veronica reached out for his essay, his hand trembling slightly. Balin went to give it to him then at the last moment crumpled the parchment into a little ball. He threw it at the boy hitting him square on the forehead. "Rubbish."

Snape saw little Veronica get a familiar look of righteous indignation on her face. It was the same look the grown-up version had when she and Snape argued about his bullying of Neville Longbottom. Wisely, she didn't dare show her anger to Professor Balin. Somehow, he sensed it anyway.

"What is it, Miss Stanley?"

"I-I didn't say anything," she said, trying to disappear into her chair.

Balin glowered at her. "You were about to. I can always tell. The hackles on the back of my neck start to rise. What is it?"

"Nothing, really." He continued to glare at her until she said, "It's just that Herbert's paper wasn't that bad."

"Did you help him with it?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Well, then it should have been far better than it was." Balin snatched Miss Stanley's essay out of her hand and tore it in half. "Both you and Mr. Pyecraft will receive bottom marks. And fifty points from Hufflepuff for telling me how to run my class."

Snape shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot when he couldn't help recognizing more than a little of himself in his former professor. As he felt Professor Stanley's accusing eyes on him, he turned to her and protested, "I've never thrown anything at Longbottom."

When the bell rang, not one of the students moved an inch from their seats until Professor Balin said, "Dismissed." As the relieved Hufflepuffs filed out of class, Professor Stanley took a chair in the back of the room. Snape remained standing.

"Miss Stanley, a moment of your time," Balin said to young Veronica right before she made it into the sanctuary of the corridor. She hung back as her classmates left. Even though the girl had just lost their House fifty points, a few of the other Hufflepuffs gave her sympathetic glances.

The girl gingerly approached Professor Balin sitting at his desk. "Yes sir?"

"Hand it over," he ordered.

Her eyes shifted to the floor. "I don't know what you mean."

"The book, the Infusco Diabolus. I can smell it from here."

Veronica glanced at the door and looked as if she were about to bolt.

Professor Balin sighed and pulled out his wand. He pointed it at her book bag. "Accio!"

The flap of her bag opened and out flew an ancient black book into his hand. He turned it over lovingly. "This volume is restricted to faculty only. Now, how do you suppose a silly little fifth-year Hufflepuff came into possession of it?"

"I nicked it from the library when Madam Pince wasn't looking," she replied in a small, frightened voice.

"Surely, not without help. An older student must have helped you. Your brother perhaps?"

Her eyes went wide with alarm. "Tim had nothing to do with it!"

Even Snape from his vantage point could tell she was lying and doing it very badly. Balin raised an eyebrow and glared at her. "Don't lie to me, girl."

Under Balin's intense scrutiny, young Veronica eventually admitted her brother's involvement, but added, "Tim had no idea what it was."

"And you do?"

She nodded. "I did some reading over the summer about the History of the Dark Arts. All the historians said the Infusco Diabolus is the first Dark Arts book ever. I just wanted to read it, but I couldn't even get it open."

"That is because it's protected by a password, you silly girl. I've always felt it didn't belong in the school libraryãtoo much of a temptation for nosy students. What I can't understand is why you took it in the first place? You're not by any chance an aspiring Dark witch are you?" Balin obviously meant it as a joke, but little Veronica took him very seriously.

"No!" she said, horrified he'd even think such a thing.

"Perhaps you want to be an Auror when you," he snorted derisively, "grow up?"

The girl shook her head then dared to look him right in the eye. "I just want to understand it, evil I mean," she said with a guileless expression. "I just don't understand."

The subtext of what she was asking was not lost on either Balin or Snape. Little Veronica had the insight to see Balin for what he was and the audacity to believe she could grasp the reasons for his evil. What the girl couldn't possibly know, thought Snape, was how dangerous questions like that were.

"I'm sorry I took the book," she said sincerely. "Please, you can punish me any way you want to, just don't blame Tim."

Balin grinned evilly. "Never say such things unless you really mean them." He pointed his wand at the door; it slammed shut and the bolt slid into place.

The fact that young Veronica immediately regretted what she just said was obvious from the panic written on her face.

He picked up the book and tapped it with his wand. "Relinquo Espero!" The book sprang open to an all-too-familiar page containing the earliest known image of the Dark Mark. "You see this symbol?"

Little Veronica looked at the skull and snake with fear mixed with curiosity.

"This, Miss Stanley, is evil in its purest form. But evil is not something you can comprehend from just gazing at an image, it has to be experienced." He stood up, pointed his wand at her and bellowed, "EXURO MORSMORDRE!"

A burst of red and green light flashed from his wand. Veronica was too frightened and surprised to react. It hit her square in the chest. Snape had never witnessed anyone being burned with the Dark Mark. Watching the fifteen-year-old Veronica writhing in agony while the evil penetrated every cell in her body brought back the awful memory of his own Burning. When the evil finally left the girl, she lay on the floor whimpering.

After watching her with delectation for a few moments, Balin rose and went to the girl, pulling her to her feet. He took a firm grip of her arm and dragged her to his chair. She was trembling violently and could hardly stand under her own power. He sat on the edge of his desk and loomed over her. "I know it hurts, but someone had to teach you to stop sticking your nose into things you can't possibly understand." He reached out and pulled back the tattered fabric of her robes to reveal the ugly, red Dark Mark above her heart. "Do you know what this means?"

Still shaking with tears streaming down her face, Veronica shook her head .

Balin leaned over and whispered in her ear just loud enough for Snape to hear, "You belong to me."

Young Veronica tried to rise and make a run for it, but he easily pushed her back down in the chair. Balin was twice her size and a thousand times more powerful, Snape thought with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Balin wiped a tear from Veronica's face and took her chin in his hand. "Never have I seen such beauty."

The terror on her face was replaced momentarily by bewilderment.

"I'm not referring to your outward appearance, my angel. You look like a half-grown scarecrow. I meant the beauty I see in your eyes. It's still there even after what I just did to you. Innocence, hope, faith in the inherent goodness of all peopleãeven me. " He grinned widely. "Don't think I haven't noticed you catching my eye from time to timeãsearching for that speck of humanity inside of me, but never finding it. And do you know why you've never found it?" He paused and indicated that he expected her to answer.

"Because it isn't there?" she replied in a choked whisper.

"Well done, Miss Stanley! I would so like to award a whopping fifty points to Hufflepuff for that most excellent answer, but this lesson needs to remain our little secret. I hope you understand."

She nodded

"That's a good girl." Balin took hold of her hand and began stroking it. "I have often wondered what I would have to do to utterly destroy that beauty inside you. How long do you suppose it would take? What do you say we make it our little project for this term?"

With a look of defiance she snatched her hand away. "I'd rather die."

He rolled his soulless eyes and chuckled. "Teenage girls have such a flare for melodrama. Never fear Miss Stanley, I wouldn't kill you for not cooperating with my little experiment. You're free to go. But before you leave... " She flinched when he pointed his wand at her again. "Textilis!" the ripped section of her school robe was instantly repaired. "Wouldn't want anyone asking any uncomfortable questions, now would we? Off with you then."

Confused but relieved she got up and staggered to the door. She was about to slide the bolt back when Professor Balin called after her.

"You're brother Tim, he's on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, isn't he?"

Veronica turned to him apprehensively. "Heãhe's a Chaser."

"Dangerous game, Quidditch. I do hope he's careful. It would be so unfortunate for a young man with his whole life ahead of him to have a tragic accident."

Veronica lowered her head in despair and put her face in her hands.

As Severus watched the horrific incident unfold, such anger and disbelief as he had never felt before welled up inside of him. Why didn't I kill him when I had the chance?

"Consider this your first lesson, Miss Stanley. Emotions like love and loyalty are weaknesses, they leave one open to all sorts of manipulation." Professor Balin took his chair and motioned for her to come closer, patting his knee. With a look that said she'd rather rip his throat out, little Veronica sat in his lap.

"Is that hate I see in your eyes?" Balin laughed with delight. "Progress already!" He put one arm around her tiny waist and slipped his other hand underneath her robes. "Well, let's see how much more we can accomplish today, shall we?"

"That's enough!" Snape declared. He turned away from the appalling scene and found the grown-up Veronica sitting with her legs tucked up to her chest, hugging herself tightly with an expression of terror mirroring that of her younger self.

"Veronica, that's enough!"

Suddenly, they were both back in Professor Stanley's office. Veronica sat heavily in her desk chair. With considerable effort, she managed not to burst out into tears, something Severus was very grateful for.

"Tell me that was the only time," he said, considerably agitated himself.

She shook her head. "It went on for four months; not every day, but often enough. Each time more painful and humiliating than the last, though he was always careful not to leave any marksãnone that anyone could see anyway."

"Veronica, you have to believe meãeven though I must admit there are some similarities between Balin's teaching methods and my own, I have never touched a female student in that way!"

She smiled sadly. "I know. There's one more memory I have to show youãabout two months later." Severus began to object, but she pleaded with her eyes. "It's important."

He nodded reluctantly. She once again placed her wand against her temple, removed another silvery-white memory and put it in the Pensieve.

They both touched the liquid and were transported to the hospital wing. Young Veronica was lying in bed, her wrists wrapped with bandages. Obviously, this memory was right after her suicide attempt. A man and a woman Snape recognized as Veronica's parents from the photos in her office were sitting by the bed. Her mother was crying and stroking the girl's forehead. Young Veronica just stared despondently into space.

"Vee, sweetheart, why would you do this to yourself? If there's something wrong you can tell your father and me. We love you no matter what it is."

Mr. Stanley touched his wife's arm when he saw Professor Sprout and Dumbledore enter the room. They both went to speak with them in low, concerned tones and were joined by Madam Pomfrey.

"I'll do what I can, but there will be scarring," Poppy said gravely.

"Why would she do such a thing?" Mrs. Stanley sobbed.

Sprout put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Veronica has been rather distracted latelyãgrades slipping; perhaps because of a boy? Nothing can upset a young girl like a case of puppy love gone sour. I should have told you, but I had no idea it would come to this."

A few moments later, Professor Balin entered and approached them.

Grown-up Veronica whispered in Snape's ear. "Watch Dumbledore."

When little Veronica saw Balin, she stiffened with fear, but the other adults didn't noticeãexcept for Dumbledore.

"When she didn't show up for my class," Professor Balin told her parents, "I was concerned, but it never occurred to me she would cut herself. Very unlike her. She's one of my best students."

Sprout, Poppy and the Stanleys continued to fret and wring their hands as Balin drifted over to young Veronica.

As Balin took the chair next to the girl's bed, the Headmaster watched him furtively. Snape, in turn, watched the only man he'd ever really trusted in disbelief. Did Dumbledore know what was going on and do nothing to stop it?

Balin was speaking to little Veronica with an even expression on his face, but so softly Snape had move closer to hear.

"... stupid, stupid girl! Did they see it?"

Snape assumed 'it' was the Dark Mark burned on her chest.

She shook her head.

An almost imperceptible expression of relief crossed Balin's face. "Try something like this again," he glanced at her parents and smiled unpleasantly, "and I'll kill your entire family."

"I think you get the point," Professor Stanley said as she brought them back to her office in the present. "Dumbledore knew. I was never quite sure, but now I know he did."

"There has to be a logical explanation," Snape said, his faith in the old wizard visibly shaken.

Veronica rubbed her forehead with fatigue. "Perhaps there is one, but I have a sneaking suspicion it's one of those 'certain sacrifices have to be made for the good of the wizarding community' explanations, and frankly, I'm not in the mood to hear it right now."

She may not be in the mood, but as soon as Snape was done here, he'd find out for himself just what Dumbledore's reasons were. He couldn't have known how bad it was.

"It went on for another two months after that," Veronica continued, "but when I came back to school after the Christmas holiday, Balin was gone. Professor Oliver was teaching the class. He wouldn't tell us much, just that Balin was never coming back. It was years later after I started working for the Institute and had access to Ministry records that I found out he'd been arrested and thrown into Azkaban for life, but your name wasn't mentioned."

"I was working as a spy at the time," Snape explained, "but you already know that. Even Balin doesn't know I was responsible."

"When I read Moody's report, I knew you were the one who delivered me. I can only imagine how much you regret your involvement with the Death Eaters, but as far as I'm concerned you were right where you needed to be. I know it sounds selfish... I have no idea how I survived it so long, but one more week and I think I would have jumped from Hufflepuff Tower no matter what the consequences." She gazed up at him with that look of profound gratefulness. "Thank you for making it stop."

Severus cleared his throat and looked away. He felt more than a little embarrassed, but he also felt something he never had beforeãproud. He turned back to Veronica and met her eyes. The innocence might be gone, but the hope and the faith were still there. "At least Balin didn't succeed."

"Didn't he? Maybe not his primary goal, but he did accomplish two things: he made damned sure no decent wizard would ever want to touch me." She indicated the Mark on her chest. "And that I wouldn't ever want to be..." Veronica turned away, regarded the still Pensieve and sighed. "What do I do with it now?"

"Destroy it," Snape replied. "Put all the memories of hisãevil in there and destroy it. I know that won't obliterate the memories from your mind, but it will blur them. They'll just seem like a bad dream."

"How do you know that?"

"A few Death Eaters I used to know tried to erase the memories of their evil deeds by putting them in a Pensieve and destroying it. It didn't work the way they had hoped, but I thought it might help in your case."

"You'd better be careful," Veronica said with a smile. "If you're any nicer to me, you might drop dead of a stroke or something."

He scowled. "I believe I've burst several blood vessels already today, so if you don't mind getting on with it... "

"Now, that's more like it." Her expression turned serious as sheãwith a shaking handã proceeded to remove every ghastly memory of her four-month ordeal from her mind and put them in the Pensieve.

As the memories swirled inside the stone basin, Severus caught glimpses of the crimes Veronica had endured, when finally he had to turn away in revulsion. Her office was ill-equipped for the task of destroying the basin and its contents, so they carried the Pensieve to Snape's dungeon laboratory. Fortunately it was dinner-time, so the castle's other inhabitants were busy eating in the Great Hall. Veronica offered to get some food from the kitchen, but neither she nor Severus had much of an appetite. As soon as the Pensieve and her memories were vaporized, Snape gave Veronica a dose of Dreamless Draught and escorted her to her room. Then he marched to Dumbledore's office. He met the Headmaster just as he was returning from dinner.

"How is she?" Dumbledore asked, as he settled himself behind his desk.

"She'll recover," Severus snapped, "no thanks to you." The younger man regretted his words as soon as he uttered them. "I'm sorry, but you knew what was happening to her, at least by the time of her suicide attempt, and you let it go on for another two months!"

"It's true," Dumbledore admitted. "I suspected something was going on, but I had no idea he had burned the Mark into her."

The horrific images Snape had witnessed floated through his mind. "That wasn't the worst of it."

"You must understand, Severus, I couldn't have Balin arrested on school grounds and risk the lives of dozensãperhaps hundredsãof other children. He was powerful enough to bring down one of the castle towers if provoked. I couldn't take that chance."

"So you decided to let him amuse himself with her while you bided your time, waiting for the right moment?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily, suddenly looking very old. "As you well know, we are often called upon to do unpleasant things for the good of the whole. I had faith she would survive."

"I can't help but wonder if you would have dealt with the situation with more alacrity if the victim had been one of your precious Gryffindors." Snape then turned on his heel and made to leave, but Dumbledore called after him.

"Perhaps this isn't the best moment to point this out, Severus, but in all the times you've come to my office to complain about something, this is the first time you've done it for purely unselfish reasons." The old wizard smiled. "Good always comes out of the ashes of evil."

*

As soon as Severus left his office, Dumbledore went to the glass case and pulled out his own Pensieve. He swirled the basin until the memory he was looking for came to the surface...

A handful of top Ministry officials and a younger version of himself sat in the cold dungeon room as Rupert Balin was being led in, flanked by two dementors. They were not gathered for a trial, they were here for an executionãof sorts. Balin was about to receive the Dementor's Kiss. Unlike every other Death Eater who had received this unspeakable punishment, Balin grinned rakishly as the dementors sat him down and chained him to the chair as if he were attending a bon voyage party rather than his own soul execution.

The officious and zealous Barty Crouch rose and began to speak. "You, Rupert Balin, have been found guilty of crimes against humanity. Before your sentence is carried out do you have anything to say?"

Balin laughed. "Well, it's been jolly good fun and if I had to do it all over again I wouldn't change a thing." Those gathered were shocked by his cavalier comment. "You're all so self-righteous, but secretly you envy us. We get to do the things you wish you could doãthe things hidden in the dark parts of your cowardly souls. Just one more thing before I go." Balin looked directly at Dumbledore. "I wanted to say a very special thank you to my dear friend Albus Dumbledore for supplying me with all those luscious little Slytherin girls over the yearsãso obliging, so eager to please. But surely the most delectable morsel was that little Hufflepuff. Destroying her was the most fun I've had in ages. I'm just sorry I didn't get to finish the job."

The present-day Dumbledore watched his past self reach for his wand in his voluminous sleeve, but stop. He had come very close to using the Killing Curse on Balin that day. It almost would have been worth a life's sentence in Azkaban to rid the world once and for all of that human monster.

Balin invited the dementor to come closer with no hint of fear on his face, just that same infuriating grin. The old wizard wished he could say Balin was insane, but he wasn't. The most dangerous Dark wizard next to Voldemort was as sane as Dumbledore. It had taken the Headmaster years to discover Balin's true nature; his kind were so good at hiding it. The Dark wizard had been born without a soulãone of a thankfully rare breed of human being. Muggles were occasionally plagued by these creatures as well and spoke of them in their science called Psychology. They used inadequate terms like 'psychopath' and 'antisocial personality disorder' to explain the phenomenon that was disastrous enough in a Muggle, but cataclysmic in a wizard.

When the dementor went to collect its Kiss, Dumbledore was horrified, but not surprised when the rotting creature that fed on human emotion recoiled from Balin. How could the dementor take something Balin didn't possess? Veronica might fault Dumbledore for his inaction, but the sweet, soulful Hufflepuff didn't understand how much worse it could have been. She would never know how much of his own strength the Headmaster had magically sent her during her ordeal so that she could endure. It was better for her to think she had survived it on her own.

***