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The Sentencing of Severus Snape


Severus Snape,
You are hereby accused of the following offenses:
1. Attacking one, James Potter, unprovoked, in the dark
2. Transfiguring your own face to appear war-torn
3. Lying to one, Lily Evans, about what happened
4. Being a smelly, ugly git with greasy hair and a big nose
5. Various other crimes, both of small and great nature (including but not limited to using the amortentia potion on one, Lily Evans, without her knowledge or consent), committed over the past five years of being aware of us being aware of one another’s existence.
You don’t get to plead, as we already know you are guilty as charged. Therefore you are sentenced to getting exactly what you asked for.
Your day of reckoning has arrived. Prepare yourself.
Signed,
The Marauders of Hogwarts
Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs


Sirius looked up from the parchment they were all sitting around, illuminated by flickering candle light - a dramatic touch thought up by Sirius, setting the mood for their solemn meeting.

James had gone to Sirius’s room to inform him of the decision he’d made - “I’ve decided to become a bully to Severus Snape” - and despite Remus’s pleas, James was insistent that if he was to be blamed for it, he at least wanted the fun of getting to do the deed at hand. Sirius was instantly on board - as reckless best friends always are when they are presented with a reckless and horrible idea as this was - and they instantly wrote to Peter, urging him to come that very night for the Official Ceremony. Luckily - or perhaps unluckily, depending upon how you looked at it - Peter’s parents had barely noticed he was there, so they certainly didn’t notice when he snuck out to go to the Potter’s by the Knight Bus. He shared a cup of strong eggnog with Ernie, the conductor, no the way, and by the time he got to James’s bedroom, he was raging with energy and an artificial bravery brought upon him by the eggnog.

So there they knelt - Remus, Peter, Sirius, and James - lit by candles, staring at the parchment that sentenced Severus Snape to the bullying he had claimed for himself. Remus was the most reluctant to sign the parchment (“Isn’t the point of this sort of thing that it’s supposed to be anonymous?” he asked), but it took barely any begging on Sirius’s part and even Remus had taken up the quill.

Sirius lifted the parchment, blowing off the freshly inked names with a flourish, and rolled the whole thing up into a scroll that he sealed with a bit of wax from the candle. He held it out before them. “Now, to make it official, let’s all take a hold of it…”

James grabbed onto it, and so did Peter. Remus stared at it. “Go on, Moony,” Sirius pressured him.

“Guys --” Remus started, looking peaky.

“No, don’t guys us,” Sirius said, “You’re one of us four, aren’t you? A Marauder?”
br> “Yes, but… is this really --” Remus was about to say necessary, but the look on all three of the other boys faces answered it and he let out a sigh and took hold on the parchment.

“Now repeat after me,” Sirius said, clearing his throat. They all knew what he was going to say, though, so they said it with him instead of after him so that they all chorused, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” Remus was a little slower at it than the others so that they finished the sentence and he was left saying “no good” alone and they all sat there awkwardly a moment, holding onto the rolled up scroll between them, then Sirius jumped up and went over to Bubo’s cage. “Attention, madam, you have a very important delivery to make. To Severus Snape, wherever the fucker hides!” and he attached the scroll to her leg. “Off you go!” He opened the window and with a squawk, Bubo was chucked out into the winter night.

It had stopped snowing at least - though the bankings were fairly high outside, and the sky was clear - stars shining overhead and the moon turning everything pale blue and shimmery. Remus and the others gathered ‘round behind Sirius as he watched, hands jammed in his leather jacket’s pockets, as Bubo flew off. Remus could feel his heart pounding against his ribs at the implications that parchment held, and so could James, but his was adrenaline pumping his heart like that more than fear. And Peter was just lucky to be standing up still - all that eggnog had gone right to his head and he felt a little dizzy and he laughed.

Sirius put his arm around James. “We’ll get him, Prongsie. We’ll teach that bastard what’s what.” He squeezed James’s shoulder. “I promise you. I won’t rest ‘til he’s been taught a lesson.”

James smiled - the camaraderie of this statement meant more to him than anything Sirius Black would do to Severus Snape. He thumped Sirius on the back in appreciation.

Sirius looked over at him. “I mean it, Potter. I’ll fuck up anybody that hurts you. That goes for all you guys. I’ll fuck up anybody that lays a finger on any of you lot. You’re my mates. I love you guys.”

Remus laughed, “I knew I wasn’t your only boyfriend.”

Peter laughed at this but James looked confused. Sirius grinned, “Don’t look like you dunno about us, love, you’ll hurt my feelings - and the cat’s out of the bag now anyway.” He grabbed James ‘round the neck, tugged him in and kissed his forehead.

“Get off me,” James said, laughing as he pushed Sirius off.




The sentencing of Severus Snape was not the only important parchment flying by owl that night. As the hours ticked on and the night switched from the night before into actual Christmas, another owl circled over rough seas and came to land in the window of an old, brine-covered armory that stood sentinel, jagged and rough-hewn against the night sky. The moon seemed to quiver behind dark figures that passed by the window the owl hopped through, onto a desk. He dropped his letter and flew away, eager to escape the shadows and heavy heartedness that filled the walls.

The man behind the desk lifted the parchment with shaking hands. He was on his last week on shift as guard of the prison Azkaban, and he was thankful for it. He was beginning to lose his mind as much as the prisoners were. The dementors swarming the halls and skies were too much to bear before - but since August, when Harold Minchum had called for double the security over the island… well, it had been invariable hell for any whose assignment was to take shift as guard.

But it was the Minister himself who’d sent the parchment and, for the guard at least, the news was good.

And it came with a port key.




Christmas morning came and Sirius rolled over in his bed to find Remus had snuck in next to him, despite having a perfectly good bed of his own that Charlus had magicked into the room. It had gone mostly untouched just as Sirius’s bed at school did.

“Moony,” he hissed, nudging Remus in the legs. “Oi… Moonshine. Wake up you dolt, it’s Christmas.”

Sirius grinned and crawled out of bed, slipping out from under the covers onto icy-cold floor and scrambled to his bag, which he opened up and rooted about in. The bag had the extendable charm on it, of course, so it held a bit more than one would expect, and he fished about up to his shoulder ‘til he found the guitar James had given him for his birthday, the strings squealing as his hand slid along the neck of it.

Remus stirred, “It’s cold, where’d you go, you’re my sleeping furnace.”

“I’m coming,” Sirius said as he crept back over to the bed and climbed aboard, crossing his legs so he was cradling the guitar with them, the body of it leaning against his thigh, wrapping his arm ‘round the wood torso of the thing. He cleared his throat and positioned his fingers. He’d been practicing with it in secret for the past nearly two months now and though he hadn’t gotten too far with it, he’d learned a couple of chords and he’d messed about til he’d come up with a bit of a tune and now he was ready to make his debut. “Wake up properly, I’ve done something for you.”

“What?” Remus squinted against the sunlight and looked down the length of himself at Sirius, sitting by his feet with his guitar. He stared at him for a moment, then rubbed his eyes and struggled against the blankets to sit up, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m about to play my song for you,” Sirius said. “Are you ready?”

Remus laughed, “You learned a song?”

“Even worse, I’ve written one,” Sirius said and he grinned. “I promise, there’s nothing about Voldemort sucking anything in this one, though.”

“Brilliant. I was worried,” Remus smiled. “Go on then, let’s hear it.”

Sirius cleared his throat again and he positioned his fingers once again, took a deep breath -- he was clearly very nervous about doing this -- and finally, he strummed the guitar and a wonky little note came out, and then another as he gained his confidence, he played the same two notes over and over in a pattern that was sort of plinky-plonky, and finally, he sang, “Oh my Moony… You.. make me swoony… Ohhhh-hooo-oohhh, my Moony….

Remus smiled.

You know how to make me grin for you…
Even when I’m feeling blue…
It’s magic, the things that you do
-- to me…
hey Moonshine, you make me smile…
And I wanna be ‘round you for a looong long while…
Oh-oh-oh… my Moony….
Whether it’s sunny, or even if it pours
We can be inside or… ooout of dooors…
S’logn as I’m with you… I’m okay
Cos you always know just what to sayyyy…
For cryin’ outloud Moony you’re so hot that you made me gooooo gaaaay…


Remus laughed.

Ohhh my Moony…
You make my swoony…
Ohh-oh-ohhh… my Moony
When I look at you, I feel alright
Like the sun came out in the middle of the night
I gotta smile for you
Even when I’m feeling Blue
You’re everything that I wanna do…
Moony - Moony guess what? I love you…
Oh-oh-oh… my - my -my… my Moony
Ohhh-ohhhhh-oh
My Moony



Sirius blushed as Remus clapped and grinned. The moment Sirius put the guitar down, Remus launched himself at him, “You’re incredible. That was amazing. I love it so bloody much, Padfoot.” He had him tangled up in a big hug, and Sirius was grinning.

“You don’t think it’s too gay?”

“Bloody hell it’s extremely gay, the gayest thing I’ve ever heard, but that’s what I bloody love it for. You’re insane and you’re magnificent.”

Sirius grinned. “Well, happy Christmas, my love, I’m glad you liked it. I’m broke as a china cup so I had to improvise.”

Remus laughed, “It’s better than what I’ve improvised with.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Remus turned and rolled off the bed to get his bag and opened it up and came back a moment later with a sheath of parchment pieces magicked together with spellotape. “Coupons for various things. Like me doing a homework assignment or for a free hug.” Sirius laughed and flicked through them. He held one up, “Free Snogging at the Time and Location of my Choice. This one will be used for somewhere very special… make a spectacle of ourselves… Ohhhh, my yes. I do like this one.” He waved another coupon with a sparkle in his eyes. “I can’t believe you bloody wrote that on a coupon. I may keep that one just to have proof one day that Remus Lupin once wrote the words sexual deeds.” He grinned as Remus turned red. “Or maybe I’ll cash it in right now.”

Remus turned even redder.

Suddenly the door busted open.

It was James and behind him was Peter.

“IT’S CHRISTMAS YOU LAZY BUMS GET THE BLOODY HELL UP!” James shouted, then ducked away. “PRESENTS!” he shouted as he disappeared.

Peter waved, then scurried after James.

Remus looked at Sirius, “Looks like you’re holding onto it for a bit, mate.”

Sirius smirked, “That’s okay. It’ll probably be worth more in blackmail one day anyway. C’mon. Let’s go.”




Later that after noon, after the presents and the Christmas breakfast of bacon and waffles, when they were all sitting about the living room and the smell of the roast for the dinner was filling the air… an owl came to deliver a special edition of the Daily Prophet. Charlus thanked the bird, tucked few knuts into his little sack, and sent him off again, unrolling the paper, coughing a bit as he returned to his seat, thumping his chest with his fist…

Suddenly, he let out a great gasp.

“No. What is he -- mad?”

“Is who mad?” James looked up from where he and Peter were playing Wizard Chess with the new set he’d got for Christmas.

“Harold Minchum!” exclaimed Charlus.

And he read the following news story outloud:

MINISTER FOR MAGIC ORDERS ALL HUMAN GUARDS FROM THE ISLAND PRISON, AZKABAN -- DEMENTORS ALONE WILL GUARD THE PRISON, SAYS MINCHUM
In a move most unpredicted, Harold Minchum, Minister for Magic, has announced that he will order all human personnel off the island home of the prison Azkaban. The fortress and its high security prisoners will be henceforth solely guarded by the Dementors, whose powers to extract all hope from their prisoners should be enough to hold all of the tenants soundly within its walls.
Many fears have arisen from skeptics about the control of the Dementors. “What is to stop them from sucking out the soul of every inmate we assign?” demands Fabian Prewett, Auro. “The Dementors having complete control is disaster waiting to happen! Unfair trials are likely to end up in premature Kissing before the sentence has been delivered properly.”
The office of Harold Minchum held no response to this accusation, but insists that this move is in the favor of all wizardkind.
The office of the guard that has worked for Azkaban, sending personnel to the island for over a century, says that they wholly support Minchum’s orders. The Prophet was lucky enough to be on hand when the last guard, Alexander Scrubbs, arrived via Port Key to the Ministry last night. Of the news, he said, “You have no idea what it’s like ‘til you’ve served a shift on the rocks of Azkaban! That fortress is enough to make a man mad. The prisoners are as good as dead the moment they enter a cell - there’s no escaping such a place, not mentally - not emotionally - not even physically. Even if you’re only a guard, a place like Azkaban will wreck you for life. Minchum gives mercy to this office. Now excuse me, I’m going home to see my wife and wee ones and have the first bit of joy I’ve felt in weeks since I was sent on assignment!”
The new laws for Azkaban guards take effect immediately. All serving personnel have been sent home for the holiday and will be given badges of honor at the Ministry during a public celebration on 1 January, presented by the Minister for Magic himself.



They all looked ‘round at one another, the mood in the room suddenly quite ominous indeed.