"The snake in the Chamber of Secrets is gone, isn't it? You can't find it. You don't know where it went. You don't know whether it will come back. You don't dare take that gamble." Severus Snape's voice dropped even lower. "So you want to make a fake one. A fake snake that looks the part, won't petrify anyone, and can be killed by Potter."
"You want to make him a hero. Not because he really is one, but because you need him to be."
Dumbledore looked at him. Beneath the shadow of his hood, his bright blue eyes were like two lamps pressed beneath the water, still glowing, but already close to going out. "Severus, I know you dislike Harry. If you don't want to do it, I can find someone else. After all, Lily's death was not your fault."
"Shut up! Don't you dare say Lily's name!" Severus Snape suddenly turned and roared at Dumbledore, his lips pressed into a thin line. His hand clenched in his pocket until his knuckles turned white. He stood there like a dead tree planted in snow, frozen solid, yet with roots still buried in the earth, not quite dead.
After a long time, his hand came out of his pocket and slowly unclenched. His fingers were pale, not the sickly, waxen kind of white, but a deeper shade, as though something had been drawn out from beneath his skin, leaving only bone.
"The list. Give me the list. I'll go." His voice returned to its usual, emotionless tone. "You handle the Ministry of Magic yourself. I won't deal with those people face-to-face. You know things between them and me... have not been pleasant."
Dumbledore drew a hand from his robe pocket, a folded, unsealed envelope pinched between his fingers. He handed