In response to the comments left by no-name: firstly, I did not say that Shacklebolt was correct in his statement about building up immunity to Veritaserum (and given that Hughes is the legal assistant, perhaps he is more likely to be the one with the facts?) and also, surely his decision to not use it suggests that he's a bit unsure about the immunity thing? As for giving Snape a wand – if he's really trying to present himself in the best possible way and get the best possible outcome for himself, attacking people in the middle of his trial would be stupid and, quite frankly, suicide. It's the sort of thing Bellatrix would try because she's completely insane and irrational, but Snape is intelligent and practical, and knows better than to try a stunt like that. Do you really think he'd be that stupid? Plus there's the matter of trust: if Shacklebolt demonstrates to Snape that the court does trust him to behave, he's more likely to trust them (as much as the poor guy can trust anyone) and co-operate than if they made it clear that they don't trust him. And as you'll see from this chapter, there are certain pieces of information that Harry did not know about; how else do you suggest the court obtain those?

With the memories, it makes sense to get them directly from Snape – in any form of trial there is all that can be done to get information from a primary source. By getting them from Harry, a secondary source, you're reducing the reliability of information and also limiting it to what he saw, whereas if they get it directly from Snape, there'll be more information. Just out of curiosity, is there anything about this story that you did like? Because just pointing out perceived mistakes (which, as you'll hopefully realise from what I've said above, were anything but mistakes) isn't exactly the well-rounded review that the review box advises. And why the anonymity? In terms of fanfic, authors tend to be more dismissive of such reviews anyway.

And now, the final section.

"Yet again Albus Dumbledore has thwarted me!" hissed Voldemort. "I have a solution, however: Draco Malfoy has been selected to carry out the task of his murder."

Snape frowned slightly. "Draco, my lord? The boy has never had to do anything remotely near this difficult; do you think he is capable?"

Voldemort's red eyes flared with anger. "You question my judgement, Severusss?"

Hastily, Snape shook his head. "Never, my lord."

"Goooood. I will confess that it is no easy task, but it will demonstrate his worthiness for and his commitment to our cause." He nodded briskly. "You may go, Severus."

Snape bowed his head respectfully, then turned and left the room.

"That will do," Shacklebolt quietly told the redhead; the witch tapped the orb smartly with her wand and it stopped spinning, enabling her to remove it from the Pensieve.

"Mrs. Malfoy? The court needs to see the period of time between you leaving for Snape's and when you departed from his house after the Vow was made," requested Shacklebolt.

"Of course, Minister." Narcissa hurried down to the Pensieve and placed her memory into it…

When the scene had finished, Shacklebolt thanked her and she returned to her seat, to be met with her son uncharacteristically flinging himself into her arms. She held him tightly. "Draco, dear, whatever's the matter?" she asked anxiously, oblivious to the stares from everyone else.

He buried his face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mum," he mumbled. "I've been so stupid! You did everything you could to protect me and I was horrible to you for it. I'll never be able to make it up to you!"

Narcissa ran her hand comfortingly over his hair. "Ssshhh, don't you worry about that. We all do stupid things when we're young, things we come to regret later. I forgive you."

"Though you could get her a box of her favourite chocolates anyway," suggested Lucius, smirking a little. "It is amazing what you can get forgiven for if you get her those chocolates."

Narcissa raised one of her eyebrows archly. "You still aren't forgiven for what you did to my ballgown at Bella's twenty-first birthday."

Draco looked up at her. "What did he do?"

"Never you mind," growled Narcissa, narrowing her eyes at her husband.

"Looks like you'll be getting two boxes of chocolates soon, then, Cissy," commented Lucius, averting his gaze.

Narcissa stuck her tongue out at him before placing her hands on their son's shoulders. "Draco, I did all I could to protect you and I was able to do that; that's reward enough."

An irritated Hughes pointedly cleared his throat; the Malfoys hastily sat down, though not before Lucius glared at him. Hughes appeared to wither slightly under the glare and Lucius smirked.

"Severus, the meeting you had with Dumbledore when you told him of the Vow and you arranged his death, please," requested Shacklebolt. Again, Snape obliged and the crowd watched.

When that had finished, Snape cleared his throat. "If I may add another memory as a follow-on to this? There was a point when I strongly desired to not go through with the plan, when Dumbledore persuaded me to stay with it."

Hughes spluttered, "I don't think –"

"Yes please, Severus," interrupted Shacklebolt. "It sounds like something the court should hear."

That memory was shown, followed by the night of Dumbledore's death. Unable to watch, Draco buried his face in his mother's shoulders again and she held him close, exchanging pained looks with her husband. How had she let her child get into such a desperate state? It would be a long time before she would be able to forgive herself for the indoctrination she had allowed him to undergo.

The final scene was one Harry Potter recognised: Dumbledore's portrait telling Snape what to do with Gryffindor's sword and how to get it to The Boy Who Lived (Twice).

When it was over, Shacklebolt nodded at the young witch. "Thank you, Esmeralda. I rather think this device will become a standard part of trials in the future. We have seen enough now." He turned to the Wizengamot. "You have seen the evidence for yourselves. We can, if you wish, also use Veritaserum, as has already been suggested."

A wizard at the front got to his feet. "That will not be necessary, Minister. We would like a little time to confer."

"Permission granted."

The courtroom was abuzz with chatter as the Wizengamot left for their private discussion chamber. Narcissa listened to the conversations around her: most people no longer knew what to think – so many had been certain of Snape's absolute guilt before the start of the trial. Draco was nervously chewing his fingernails.

Someone tapped Narcissa's shoulder; she was shocked to see her other sister, Andromeda, there. "Annie? What do you want?"

"Stand up," the older witch ordered. When her sister obeyed, Andromeda pulled her into a tight embrace. "I am so proud of you, little sis! All these years I thought you were a cold-hearted bitch who relished her position as a trophy wife and distant mother; you can't begin to understand how glad I am today!"

Confused, Narcissa returned the hug awkwardly. "But Dumbledore still died…"

"You saw and heard just now what really happened! Between the three of you, Draco was protected completely. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Er – thanks…Look, I'm – I'm sorry about your daughter…"

Tears glistened in Andromeda's eyes. "She – she didn't die in vain. And she left something – you're a great-aunt now, to little Teddy."

Narcissa grasped her hands. "Can we start again, rebuild our relationship?" The world around them seemed to fade into the background.

Andromeda glanced at Lucius, a hint of distaste in her face. "I'm certainly willing to try." She gestured around the room. "Nobody knows what to make of all this. I'm actually hoping he gets cleared, if you can believe that."

"I think he deserves a chance of redemption," said Narcissa. "As do all of us. Not people like Bella, or Mulciber, or any of those who died truly believing in the Dark Lord's cause. But some of us – some of us lost our faith in him over time, after we saw what happened to our families."

"You mean yourself." It was not a question.

"Yes. Once he chose Draco for that task, I knew that we were being punished for Lucius's errors. How could I continue honestly following him after that? I didn't care about his cause any more. I am many things, Annie, some of which aren't very nice, but the first thing I am, above and beyond anything else, is a mother. If I had been in Lily Potter's situation that night, I wouldn't have thought twice about it – I would have done exactly the same thing. And although he'd never admit it, I'm certain that Lucius would, too."

Four and a half hours later, there was an announcement that the Wizengamot had reached a verdict. Breathless with anticipation, journalists and members of the public alike hurried back into the courtroom. Snape was brought in and he sat down on the chair again. To Narcissa, he seemed ominously calm: He's probably resigned himself to a life sentence in Azkaban, she thought grimly to herself. She closed her eyes and prayed – to who or what, she had no idea – for a miracle to happen.

The Wizengamot filed in silently and the wizard who had spoken before, stepped forward.

"Do you have a verdict?" asked Shacklebolt.

"Yes, Minister. We find Severus Snape not guilty of the murder of Albus Dumbledore."

The crowd gasped. Narcissa slumped in relief against her husband. Even Shacklebolt looked a little startled. "Is there a crime you do find him guilty of?"

"We considered manslaughter but that was not appropriate," answered the spokeswizard. "After considerable time perusing the law, we could find nothing applicable to such extraordinary circumstances. We conclude that this is a case, ultimately, of euthanasia – what the Muggles call 'mercy killing'. There is no legislation for this in the British wizarding world."

Shacklebolt looked across to Hughes. "Aubrey? Is this true?"

Hughes nodded. "It is, Minister."

"Continue."

"As this is so unusual, we looked at the evidence presented to us through the Memory Projector. We have concluded that the only fair thing to do is for Professor Snape to be released and cleared of all charges. What we have witnessed in these memories and testimonies leads us to believe Professor Snape: believe that he was Dumbledore's man, as Mr. Potter put it, believe that Dumbledore was to die in the way that Snape stated, believe that Mrs. Malfoy wanted to do all she could to protect her son, believe that Snape did what he could in the extraordinary and unprecedented circumstances in which he found himself. Furthermore, if he wishes to return to the Hogwarts faculty, we see no reason to prevent him from doing so."

Shacklebolt blinked twice, slowlytaking this in. "Well," he said, "in that case, you are free to go, Severus." He released the chains around Snape's wrists. "What do you plan to do now?"

"If they will have me," replied Snape quietly, "I would like to return to Hogwarts and my post as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher – I assume that now the Dark Lord is truly dead, the curse on the position died with him." His dark eyes scanned the crowd. "But that depends upon who the headteacher is. Being shut away in Azkaban does tend to limit access to such information."

"Professor McGonagall is to take over," Shacklebolt informed him. "Minerva, could you please come down here?"

The new Headmistress did as requested and stood directly in front of Snape, meeting his eyes. "It would be a pleasure and an honour to accept your request," she told him sincerely. "I must admit that I was never entirely convinced of your guilt."

Snape gave her a slight, warm smile. "Thank you, Minerva. Your words mean a great deal to me. What is to happen about Potions and Transfiguration?"

"We have received a number of applicants for both and are due to begin interviewing next week. We can discuss this more outside of this room."

Silence fell as Harry Potter came forward, stopping just in front of Snape with his hand outstretched as a peace offering. "Justice prevailed, sir," he said clearly. "And I'm glad that the whole wizarding world will know the truth about everything you did."

Snape accepted the proffered hand and shook it. "Do you honestly believe that Lily would have forgiven me?" he whispered, for once a hint of emotion in his quiet voice.

"Undoubtedly," Harry told him firmly. "When your time comes to leave this world, she'll be there to tell you so herself." He was not lying; he truly believed what he was saying.

Snape bit his lip and gestured to the room. "None of this matters to me, all the public legal things. All I want – all I need, is Lily's forgiveness."

"And you have it. It's in your heart."

The former headmaster nodded. "I feel redeemed now. You remind me so much of her in how you are to people, even people like me. Maybe – maybe at some point you would visit me at Hogwarts? There is so much I could tell you about her."

Harry smiled, tears in his eyes. "Thank you, sir. I'd like that." He then hastily stepped aside as something blonde and female hurled itself at Snape.

"Cissa!" squawked Snape, stumbling backwards under the momentum of her hug. "Again you try to prevent me from breathing! I do hope – that this will not… Ah, that's better."

"Sorry," apologised Narcissa. "I'm just so pleased that you're free!"

"Why, because it lets you off the hook?" a woman's voice acidly enquired from just behind her.

Narcissa spun round on her heel and snatched the quill out of the fingers of a very startled Rita Skeeter. "Sod off, Skeeter!" she hissed, blue eyes flashing. "If you do not leave right this minute, I will shove this quill so far up where the sun doesn't shine that not even the best healers at St. Mungo's could retrieve it."

"Is that a threat?" challenged the reporter.

"No," replied Narcissa sweetly. "It's a promise." And she crushed the quill under her foot. Skeeter hastily scuttled off; satisfied, Narcissa smirked. Then she turned back to the freed man and took him firmly by the arm. "Come on, Severus, it's time I got you sorted out with some new robes – your old ones are in a dreadful state and you're far too skinny and lanky for Lucius's to fit you."

Rolling his eyes, Snape allowed himself to be led off, Narcissa still chattering away. He had had a chance of redemption, and it had been successful.

~fin~