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SEVERUS SNAPE FOUND ALIVE: FORMER POTIONS MASTER IN MINISTRY CUSTODY
By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent
In a revelation that has sent shockwaves through the wizarding world, Severus Tobias Snape, long believed to have perished during the Battle of Hogwarts, has been confirmed alive and is currently being held under Ministry supervision.
Snape, former Hogwarts Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, was discovered just days following the war suffering from severe magical trauma and the lingering effects of Nagini’s venom.
Sources within St Mungo’s report that advanced counter-curses and antivenom potions were instrumental in his survival.
The Ministry of Magic has placed Snape under temporary protective custody while a full investigation is conducted into his actions during the war.
Though publicly remembered as a Death Eater, newly recovered Pensieve memories have complicated that narrative.
“Snape’s role is… difficult to categorise,” stated Acting Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. “The severity of his past actions necessitates a full and transparent review.”
The Wizengamot has convened a special tribunal, citing Snape’s involvement in:
The death of Albus Dumbledore
Years of service under Lord Voldemort
Alleged war crimes committed prior to his double-agent status.
Public reaction remains divided. While some hail Snape as a tragic hero, others demand accountability for decades of cruelty and fear inflicted upon students and colleagues alike.
The trials are expected to last several weeks. Until then, the question remains:
Is Severus Snape a war criminal who escaped death or the most misunderstood hero of the age?
“This is absolutely appalling, they find Snape to be alive and the first thing they do is plaster him in the prophet.” Hermione slammed the prophet onto the table, “can you believe any of this?”
“Don't know,” Ron shrugged as he shoved more sausages into his mouth, “he definitely isn't a hero. He needs to spend time in Azkaban, if you ask me.”
Hermione couldn’t control her face as she watched him grab a biscuit and shoved it into his already full mouth. She shifted side to side, “What do you think Harry?”
Harry took the prophet out of her hand and looked it over slowly. He watched the moving picture of Snape being led into the Ministry by Auras, his hair covering his face.
“Here you go Dear.” Molly set a plate of food in front of him before taking a seat at the end of the long table. Harry thanked her quietly and lifted his eyes to Hermione's. “I think we need to give the Ministry every memory that we have of Snape.”
Ron dropped his mouth open in surprise, “Why would we do that?”
“He tried to save my mom before and in his own way he tried to save me. He also had his reasons for what he did to Dumbledore, I may not agree with them but Dumbledore did.”
Hermione nodded, “Alright, we will go first thing after breakfast.”
Molly, looking exhausted as ever, rubbed her face before sitting up straighter, “We will all go, as a family.”
Harry paused with his knife mid slice, “You don't have to do that Mum, you've been through a lot. What with the funeral yesterday-”
“Nonsense dear, Fred may have been thrown out of that class more than he was in it but he would have wanted us to do what was right. I will gather the family to turn in our memories.”
Harry nodded solemnly.
* **
The Ministry was packed with people as they made their way through to the Wizengamont. The tension in the air was thick, the war may have been over but no one seemed to agree with the way the Ministry was going with their determinations.
They placed all of the higher ranking Death Eaters in Azkaban; Antonin Dolohov, Walden Macnair, the Carrow siblings, Augustus Rookwood, and Corban Yaxley, alongside Rodolphus and Rabasta Lestrange.
Lucius Malfoy had been sent to Manor arrest as he swore he was under the Imperius, he also was the one who hunted down the locations of the Carrow brothers in exchange for house arrest.
Hermione stayed close to the Weasleys as they made their way to the Wizengamont, her hand ready to grab her wand at any moment.
They were stopped short when a sharp voice echoed through the crowd.
“The Ministry wishes to make its position clear.”
A hush rippled outward as Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward, flanked by two grim-looking Aurors. His robes bore the marks of long days and little sleep with the amount of wrinkles in them along with the dark circles under his eyes.
“Severus Snape’s trial will not be open to the public,” he announced. “Given the volatility of sentiment surrounding this case, the Wizengamot has determined that proceedings will be conducted behind closed doors.”
The murmur that followed was immediate and angry.
“That’s not right,” someone shouted from the back.
“You can’t decide his fate without hearing us!”
Hermione felt it in her chest then—this wasn’t curiosity that had drawn people here, it was purpose.
Arthur Weasley stepped forward before anyone else could, his posture calm but unyielding. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t need to.
“Kingsley,” Arthur said evenly, “with respect—look around you.”
Shacklebolt’s eyes swept the corridor. Witches and wizards packed shoulder to shoulder, some in mourning black, others still wearing bandages. Survivors, fighters, widowers and families.
“They aren’t here to spectate,” Arthur continued. “They’re here to testify, every one of us lived this war and every one of us was affected by Severus Snape in some way, directly or indirectly.”
Shacklebolt exhaled slowly. “Arthur—”
“No,” Arthur pressed on, firmer now. “If the Ministry is serious about rebuilding trust, then it must do so transparently. Snape deserves a proper trial and these people—” he gestured behind him, “Our people deserve to be heard.”
A long silence followed.
Finally, Shacklebolt sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat, “Very well. On one condition.”
Aurors stepped forward, forming a line.
“All who wish to enter must surrender their wands,” Shacklebolt announced, “And swear a binding vow not to harm anyone within the courtroom—physically or magically.”
No one hesitated, they lined up one by one.
Hermione watched as Arthur handed over his wand first, murmuring the vow with steady resolve. Molly followed, eyes bright but dry then George, though pale and face gaunt, lined up to give his wand. Then went Ginny, Percy, Bill and Fleur.
Harry went next.
Hermione swallowed as he placed his wand on the table and spoke the vow aloud. Then, quietly, he pulled a small crystal vial from his pocket—silver memories swirling within—and handed it to the clerk without a word.
Around them, others did the same, memory vials piled up like stars caught in glass.
When Hermione’s turn came, her hand trembled only slightly as she relinquished her wand. The vow tightened around her magic like a breath held too long—but she welcomed it. This mattered.
The doors to the Wizengamot chamber opened at last. The room was already crowded when they entered—tiers of stone benches rising steeply, filled with witches and wizards who had arrived earlier or been summoned by the Ministry. At the center stood a single chair, surrounded by a faint ring of warding magic.
Severus Snape sat there.
He looked smaller than Hermione remembered, thinner, his black hair hung loose around his face, his skin pallid beneath the harsh light. Faint red scars traced his throat where Nagini’s fangs had struck.
For one fleeting moment, his eyes lifted, they met Hermione’s but only for a second—sharp, unreadable, almost startled.
His gaze slid to Harry and then…nothing as his eyes unfocused, shoulders slumping inward as though he had retreated somewhere far beyond the stone walls of the chamber.
They took their seats in the stands, crowding every available space. Time stretched, one by one, witnesses were called—former Order members, Hogwarts staff, healers from St Mungo’s. Statements were given, memories entered into record.
Until–
“Harry Potter,” called the clerk.
The room stilled.
Harry stood.
Hermione watched him descend the steps, and watched the way Snape didn’t react at all.
Harry stopped at the center of the chamber.
“I believe Severus Snape should be set free,” he said.
Gasps erupted, quickly silenced.
Harry didn’t flinch. “I’ve seen his memories, all of them. I saw what he tried to do for my mother and even my father who I know he never liked. I saw what he did for me, Dumbledore had told him to look after me and even though he was not happy to do so, he tried to do it to the best of his ability. I saw how Voldemort controlled him, used him, punished him.”
He swallowed. “We were all victims of Voldemort in different ways. Snape spent his life trying to undo a mistake he made as a young man. He saved more lives than the Ministry ever did.”
Harry lifted his chin. “He’s done enough good to outweigh his crimes, I believe that and if Dumbledore were able to say his peace, I know he would say the same.”
When he finished, he didn’t look at Snape. He simply turned and walked back to his seat.
“Hermione Granger.”
Hermione stood, heart pounding.
She took her place at the center, hands clasped tightly.
“I won’t pretend Severus Snape was kind,” she began. “Or fair or even decent, at times.”
A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber.
“But this trial is not about whether he was pleasant,” Hermione said firmly. “It’s about whether he was necessary. Whether his actions—taken as a whole—served the greater good.”
She paced once, gathering momentum. “Snape operated under constant threat of death. He maintained his cover as a double agent for years—years—while feeding intelligence to Dumbledore and then to the Order. His cruelty was often calculated, designed to maintain credibility and even then, it was always controlled. That doesn’t excuse the harm he caused—but it explains it.”
She looked directly at the Wizengamot chairman. “From a logical standpoint, imprisoning or executing Severus Snape sets a dangerous precedent, it would tell future defectors that redemption will not be honored, that sacrifice will not be acknowledged.”
Hermione drew a breath. “I believe that Severus Snape should be free.”
Silence followed her words.
The doors at the back of the chamber creaked open.
Heads turned.
Narcissa Malfoy stood in the doorway, pale and composed, her black robes immaculate. Her gaze went straight to the center of the room—to Snape.
A Ministry official hurried forward. “The court will recess,” he announced loudly. “The submitted memories must be reviewed in full before proceedings continue.”
Protests erupted.
“You can’t close it again!”
“We were promised—”
“The Ministry will consider every detail,” the official insisted. “This trial will resume once all evidence has been examined.”
Aurors began ushering people toward the exits.
Hermione looked back one last time.
Snape hadn’t moved but as the doors began to close, she could have sworn his fingers twitched—just once—against the arm of the chair.
***
The Ministry in fact did not reopen their doors for Snape's case. They had posted in the daily prophet that they appreciated every statement that had been said and every memory that had been given but that they would not be accepting any new ones.
After two more weeks another prophet came out:
WIZENGAMOT RENDERS VERDICT: SEVERUS SNAPE GRANTED FREEDOM—WITH CONDITIONS
By Rita Skeeter
After weeks of tense deliberation, the Wizengamot has reached its long-awaited decision regarding Severus Tobias Snape.
In a narrow but decisive ruling, Snape has been granted full legal freedom as a wizard, his actions during the Second Wizarding War officially recognised as those of a covert operative acting under Albus Dumbledore’s orders.
However, freedom does not come without consequence.
As part of the ruling, the Ministry has imposed strict lifelong conditions, most notably:
Severus Snape is permanently barred from holding any teaching position, formal or informal, within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry or any other magical institution.
When questioned, Chief Warlock Tiberius Ogden stated, “This ruling acknowledges both Snape’s service and the undeniable harm caused during his lifetime. Justice must balance mercy with responsibility.”
Snape declined to address the press directly. Witnesses report he left the courtroom without a word, dressed in plain black robes, his expression unreadable.
Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall issued a brief statement: “History will remember Professor Snape as complex, brilliant, and deeply flawed. That he lived long enough to face judgment may be the truest justice of all.”
As Severus Snape steps into a future no longer bound by war and now stripped of the classroom that once defined him, the wizarding world watches closely. What will Severus Snape do now that he has his freedom?
Hermione scrunched her nose as she folded the Prophet under her arm and crossed the street toward the café.
The headline burned something inside of her no matter how many times she reread it. Freedom with conditions. It felt like a compromise no one had truly wanted.
She relaxed slightly when she spotted Harry seated at one of the outdoor tables. Fresh air helped—less chance of eavesdroppers.
He looked tired, older somehow, stirring his tea absently.
She slid into the chair across from him, hanging her bag over the back and placing the Prophet squarely between them.
“Have you seen this?”
She groaned when she noticed the iced coffee already sweating beside her plate, a blueberry lemon muffin waiting patiently next to it. Her favorite, of course he remembered.
“Hello to you too, Hermione,” Harry said mildly, lifting his cup. “And yes. I’ve seen it.”
She pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “So sorry. Truly devastating of me. Hello, Harry.” She cracked a smile despite herself, then gestured at the paper. “What do you think?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m glad he gets to live.”
“But they took away his right to teach,” she said quickly, irritation sharpening her tone. “That wasn’t justice. That was punishment for optics.”
Harry nodded once. “Still better than Azkaban.”
Hermione broke off a piece of muffin, frowning at it like it might offer insight. “What will he do now if he can’t teach?”
Harry’s gaze drifted past her, unfocused. “That’s… not really the question, is it?”
She looked up sharply.
“The real question,” he continued carefully, “is what you plan on doing now that the war’s over.”
Hermione shoved a large bite of muffin into her mouth, buying time. She shrugged, deliberately casual, though the weight in her chest betrayed her. She had no plan for the first time in her life, no tidy future neatly outlined in ink.
Harry sighed. “You can’t keep pushing it off forever.”
“I’m not pushing it off,” she said quickly. “It’s only been a month, Harry. One month.” She swallowed. “And Ron doesn’t care what I do.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied gently. “I just—Kingsley mentioned something. Said he’d give you an interview whenever you want.”
Hermione paused. “An interview for what?”
“Anything,” Harry said. “You’ve always wanted to help magical creatures. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would take you in a heartbeat.”
Her mouth tightened. “I don’t want to sit behind a desk pushing parchment.”
“You wouldn’t have to—”
“If I work to protect magical creatures,” she interrupted, voice firm now, “then I want to protect them. To be the one there to save them.”
Harry studied her for a long moment, then drained the rest of his tea. He placed a few Galleons on the table. “Just think about it, Hermione. It could open doors.”
He stood and started to walk away.
“Wait!” she called, scrambling up and grabbing her bag.
He paused long enough for her to catch up, then they fell into step together down the street.
She looped her arm through his automatically. “How’s Ginny?” she asked lightly. “I haven’t heard from her much lately.”
Harry stiffened—just a fraction. “She’s at the Burrow, helping Mum.”
Hermione frowned. “She hasn’t moved into your flat yet?”
He shook his head. “Losing Fred hit her harder than she lets on. She said she needs time.”
Hermione nodded slowly. “That makes sense.” After a beat, she added softly, “Ron’s been helping George with the shop. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Harry said.
They walked in silence for a moment, the hum of Diagon Alley wrapping around them.
Hermione thought back to the Prophet.
What will Snape do now?
She didn’t know why the question lingered—but it did, stubborn and unresolved, much like her own future.