Our Only Hope

BY : LadyJay
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape
Dragon prints: 8773
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Severus stood impassively as they slipped his robes off his narrow shoulders, and tossed them into the bonfire with everything else he had owned. His first broom, his beloved books and potions, every piece of furniture burned to ashes, even the pictures of his dear departed mother. He burned those few pictures he had of his father years earlier. He sighed heavily as he watched everything go up in smoke by the orders of the Ministry.

He cringed as his guard pulled the core of his wand out and snapped it in two, as if it were a twig. He cried tears of blood as his magic was pulled slowly from his body, leaving a shell of a muggle. Worse of all was wiping out the memory of his life as a wizard.

The Ministry deposited Severus Snape, war hero or traitor; they couldn’t take a chance, on the streets on London with nothing more than the clothes he wore.

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A FEW DAYS BEFORE

“Do you have any witnesses that can confirm your account of your action during the war?” a faceless interrogator asked.

Severus had been given enough truth serum to secure the truth from ten men. His stomach clenched as the potion started to eat away at the lining of his stomach. “I am tired of answering your questions. Believe me or not; I care not which you choose.”

“Let the records show that the accused refuses to assist with the investigation,” the interrogator instructed. A pen, floating above a piece of parchment, wrote frantically to keep up with the dialogue.

Snape guffawed, “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last three days if not cooperating?”

The Auror, who was asking the questions, acted as if he hadn’t heard a word that the Potions Master had said. “Since you have refused to answer the simplest of questions, I am sure the ministry will be sever and swift with your punishment.”

“I have done nothing wrong to be thrown into the bowels of Azkaban,” Severus interjected.

“No, no Azkaban for you. They would never put you there without proof of your guilt, but they don’t trust you, and will have to find a way to be done with you,” he replied as he collected his papers, and slipped them into a briefcase.

“And what do they plan on doing with me,” sweat from Severus’ brow dripped from his forehead and into his eyes, stinging them. He blinked hard, trying to force the salt from his eyes.

“The plan, as I understand it, is to relieve you of your magic,” the Auror’s voice dripped with saccharine.

Severus was consumed with fear. His body trembled, and bile rose in his throat. He took long deep breaths to try to calm down. Azkaban was a better alternative than loosing his magic.

“Oh, for Merlin sake, calm down. They plan on oblivating you. You won’t remember ever being a wizard. In fact, you won’t remember anything at all,” he laughed.

The news did not bring gut wrenching sobs from the Potions Master, or histrionics the Auror had hoped for, but only the simple flow of tears, leaving a wet trail across Severus’ cheeks. He mourned for the next three days at all he was about to loose, but when the moment came, when they paraded him down the streets of Diagon Alley and walked him up onto a platform for all to watch his disgrace, he went with his head held high.

As the Auror placed the tip of his wand to Snape’s temple and started to chant the spell that would take away his memories, Severus looked at the faces in the audience and sneered.

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TEN YEARS LATER

“Is it true?” asked a befuddled Harry Potter.

“Yes, it has been confirmed. Every child that has been born since the defeat of Voldemort has been born without magic,” Hermione explained to Harry. “The Ministry is planning a meeting this evening and would like for you to attend.”

“Why me?” Harry asked. Over the years, Harry had become a recluse, barely leaving the confines of his small home. After he defeated Voldemort, he went back to school, and found that, with the right Professor, he loved potions. He spent the next six years becoming one of the youngest Potions Master, ever. Only one other was younger than Harry that had earned the title of Potions Master, and that was Severus Snape.

“We believe, at least the Healers believe, that the cause of this…abomination was produced by a potion. They have gathered all the greatest Potions Masters alive to tackle the problem. Harry, they want you there. Your reputation has preceded you.”

“So they want me to save the Wizarding World once again,” Harry mumbled.

“Please, come and listen to what is being said, and at the end of the evening, if you still don’t want to be involved, that will be the end of it,” Hermione pleaded. Her own daughters had not escaped, and were born squibs. She and Draco adored their beautiful, towhead children, but she knew that Draco was heartbroken over the situation.

Harry pulled her to his side, and hugged her as he kissed the top of her head. “For you, I would do anything.”

“Why do you think they sent me? They knew you would never refuse me,” she smiled shyly.

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The gravel crack was deafening as it made contact with the mahogany desk. The loud sound caught the attention of all who were attending the meeting. Silence swept through the room as the moderator started to speak.

“In a couple of hundred years, the Wizarding World will be extinct,” the moderator’s words were ominous. “What we do this evening will decide the fate of our children, and those who may follow. Mark this day on your calendar, because this day will be spoken of as the most important day in all of Wizarding history: whether we succeed or fail, only the future will tell. Over the last few years, when the rumors started to flow that the young children were not showing any signs of witchcraft, we put the greatest minds to work. The only thing they know for certain is that this is not a natural or evolutionary occurrence, but something much more sinister.”

“Was it Voldemort?” someone in the audience asked. It seemed strange to Harry’s ears how easily they could say his name, when only a few short years before they would quiver in fright at his name being spoken.

“We are assuming so, since all of this occurred right after his death, but we have not one iota of proof that it was him.”

“What are the plans?” a faceless voice asked.

“We will break up into groups,” he did a rough count in his head, “Five to a group, I think. After two hours, a member of each group will explain what they have come up with, if anything. Out of your suggestions, we will make a list of the top ten, keeping the others in the background, in case all of the other ideas fail. We will break up into larger groups, and discuss each of the ideas. We will do so until we agree on one solution.”

“Isn’t that like putting all of your eggs into one basket?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, it is, but I only plan on putting the brightest minds to that task, the other ideas will be handled by others. You, being one of the smartest of witches alive, will be, no doubt, in the first group.”

Hermione blushed at the complement.

As the evening wore on, and morning crept upon them, very little was agreed on. A name, not heard of in a decade, kept springing up, a name that was hated and defiled, the name of the most brilliant Potions Master that was living, that of Severus Snape.

“Are we all mad? He was a Death Eater, the killer of Dumbledore, how can we possibly consider using him.”

Harry cringed, there was that word again, ‘using’, he was tired of everyone being used.

“He doesn’t remember being as wizard, least of all being a Potions Master, how do you think he could be of any help?” Harry asked. To bring back Snape, preposterous, what were they all thinking? He was gone, let him remain so.

“We can restore his memory,” Hermione said.

Harry gave her a death glare before he spoke, “But you can’t restore his magic. That is forever gone.”

The room hushed. Harry thought the subject of Snape would be dropped.

“His knowledge is too valuable, we need to bring him back to our world,” the moderator said.

“What about the fact that he has no magic, he couldn’t brew anything if he wanted to,” Harry argued.

“He will have to work with our greatest Potions Master, and that would be you, Mr. Potter,” the moderator explained.

“I have no urge of ever looking upon his ugly face again, much less working with him. I refuse, and there is nothing anyone of you can say that will sway my decision,” Harry snarled at the large group.

“Harry, please,” Hermione pleaded.

“No. You can use Snape if you want to, but I refuse to be used again,” Harry answered between clenched teeth.

“Mr. Potter, without your help, the Wizarding World that you have professed to love, will no longer exist. We are not suggesting you bond with him…”

Everyone went quiet. The bonding of Potter and Snape would solve many of their problems. Being bonded, Harry would sense the minutiae of Severus’ brewing. He would also have some control over the Death Eater.
“No…I will not bond with him. This is too much to ask of me. Besides, once you return Snape’s memory to him, do you think he would ever agree to help us after all we have done to him?” Harry asked.

“We did nothing that he didn’t deserve,” was the moderator’s reply.

“Yeah, right. You didn’t have any evidence against the man, and yet you destroyed everything he owned, took his magic and memories,” Harry harrumphed.

“He killed Dumbledore!” was the reply.

“He was exonerated of that crime by Dumbledore’s own words. I don’t like him, but that’s personal. What you did to him was revenge…revenge for something he may not have even done. He’ll never agree to help,” he crossed his arms over his chest, and sat down with a thud.

“He’ll help, or he’ll spend the rest of his life in Azkaban,” someone snarled.

Harry rolled his eyes, they just didn’t get it. “It’s easier to catch flies with sugar than with vinegar,” Harry explained.

“What does catching flies have to do with Snape?” the man asked.

“Does anyone even know where he is, or if he’s even alive?” Harry always fantasized that Snape died alone in some gutter.

“If he’s alive, we can locate him in a couple of days. We’ll send Aurors to bring him back,” the moderator said.

“‘If they do, I want to be there when they pick him up. I don’t trust them not to kill Snape,” Harry instructed.

“What you really want to do is see how Snape survived as a muggle for the last ten years,” Hermione grumbled.

“Yeah, that too,” Harry grinned. “If he agrees to this outrageous proposal, I will not, now or ever bond, with the man, understood?” Harry emphasized.

“Perfectly Mr. Potter, as long as you remember that Snape is our only hope.”


Please take a moment and let me know if I should continue with this story. Thank you.


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