Dumbledore's Secret

Chapter 5

Severus stormed out of the headmaster's office and headed for his apartments in the dungeon. He nearly ran into Neville Longbottom, who had the misfortune of dragging his enormous trunk across a corridor just as Severus was passing through. "25 points!" he snapped, completely forgetting that, as the school year was now ending and Gryffindor had - once again - already won the house cup, points hardly mattered. Still, Neville scurried out of the way, and Severus found the rest of his path to the dungeons clear.

He was just about to enter his residence when a third-year Slytherin named Esther Morrow came running up to him, breathless and distraught. "Professor Snape! I'm sorry, Sir, but in the common room, Malfoy hexed Troy Younger! Troy's sprouting fur all over the place and ..."

Severus gritted his teeth. Could this day - which had only started, he realized with an inward groan - get any worse? He felt his blood pressure rising out of control at the thought the conversation in the headmaster's office. He didn't know why he was so bloody angry about the whole thing; if Charlotte Richardson wanted to get herself killed, what concern of it was his? And now he had to deal with that idiot Malfoy ... would his trials never end?

"Well," he snapped at Esther, "lead the way!"

He found the Common Room to be in complete disorder. Most of his house was gathered in the dim, torch-lit room, their belongings lining the dark green walls. In the center of the large room stood a hysterical second year, his face and hands furry, and a smug looking Draco Malfoy.

"What is the meaning of this?" Severus demanded, glaring at the two of them.

Troy trembled and said nothing, but Malfoy turned to him calmly and said with a sneer, "Ah, hello, Professor." He dragged out the title sneeringly. "So good to see you."

Several people gasped at the blunt disrespect and sarcasm in Malfoy's voice. He used that insufferable tone often enough around his peers and even some of the other professors, but Malfoy had never dared to speak to his head of house in such a fashion.

So, Severus thought grimly. The little ferret knows what happened. Severus had suspected as much when, on the night after his return from the summons, Malfoy had glared at him during dinner. But as classes had been cancelled for the rest of the term, and as there had been no trouble in his house, Severus had no reason to speak to Malfoy or most of his other students. He had happily used the time to recuperate from the extremely draining experience of the summons, avoiding all human contact whenever possible.

"What's the meaning of this?" Severus repeated, this time fixing his anger solely on Malfoy.

"Younger here is a traitor to Slytherin," Malfoy said airily. "Don't you think, Professor Snape, that it's wrong to be a traitor?"

Severus met Malfoy's stare, glaring so hard that the younger man was finally forced to look away.

"I...I'm not a traitor, sir!" Troy whispered. "I was just talking to Vicky Frobisher and..."

"Who happens to be a Gryffindor!" Malfoy proclaimed.

"As far as I know, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said, "these are hardly grounds for hexing a fellow student."

"I wanted to give him a little taste of what happens to traitors, Sir."

"Then let me give you a little taste of what happens to troublemakers. Two weeks of detention at the start of the school year, Malfoy. Morrow, take Younger to the hospital wing immediately. Madam Pomfrey can probably fix you up before the train leaves. The rest of you, clear out!"

As Severus turned to leave, the rest of Slytherin house began to scatter. But all movement stopped when Malfoy's voice rang out again. "Wait, Professor Snape. Goyle here has a message to deliver to you."

Severus turned around slowly and stared at Goyle. The large boy's complexion had turned a pasty white, and he didn't have the same smug look on his face that Malfoy did.

"Uh..." he began nervously. Severus hid his surprise at the boy's distress. Apparently, Gregory Goyle was not as eager about his death eater associations as Malfoy was.

"Fine, I'll tell him!" Malfoy spit out. "Goyle's father wants you to know, Professor Snape, that his boss has big plans for you and that little half blood."

The room became deathly silent. There wasn't a person present who failed to pick up on the threat. Malfoy, Goyle, and perhaps Crabbe were the only ones who would have known who the "half blood" was, but they all knew exactly who "the boss" was.

"Perhaps, Malfoy," Severus said, his voice dangerously soft, "you'll return the favor and deliver a message for me? You may tell Mr. Goyle that should he or any of his colleagues cross my path, they will find themselves immensely sorry." Severus turned to leave, then added, "Oh, and do say hello to your father for me. I hear Azkaban is just lovely this time of year."

"We'll be watching you, Snape!" Malfoy cried just as Severus left the common room. When the painting had covered the door, he fell wearily against the wall and took a deep breath. Well, this is what it had come to ... threats from bloody fifteen year olds and his house - his only family, really - turned against him. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

The painting swung back open, and Severus immediately stood up straight, his face a forbidding mask.

It was Troy and Esther. They stopped and looked up at him, fear etched across their faces. "Professor Snape ..." Esther began quietly. "I want you to know that I think you're very brave..."

Severus held up a hand and said gently, "Get Mr. Younger to the hospital wing, Miss Morrow. Hurry now."

The two nodded and dashed off. As Severus watched them disappear down the hallway, he hoped that Miss Morrow had not expressed her rather maudlin opinion of him to the rest of the house, or she'd be in for a difficult year come next fall.

*

Sitting at the small tea table in hers and Albus's sitting room, Minerva studied the young woman before her. There were shadows beneath her eyes, and her hands shook when she reached for the teapot. Still, Charlotte managed to put on the semblance of a smile as she said, "Minerva, thank you so much for the tour of the castle. This place is absolutely amazing."

Minerva smiled and said, "I can still remember seeing Hogwarts for the first time as an 11 year-old - and believe me, that was quite a long time ago. I fell in love with this school the moment I stepped through the doors." She paused to take a sip of tea before saying, "I was very happy when Albus told me that you will be staying with us."

Charlotte didn't meet her eyes and concentrated intently on spreading jam across a piece of toast.

"Since you'll be with us for some time," Minerva continued, "I've been giving some thought to what you might like to do."

Charlotte flashed her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I will do anything I can to help out. I'm not well educated, magically speaking, but ..."

"Severus tells me you're a teacher."

"Severus," Charlotte repeated, her lips tightening slightly. Minerva had to bring her napkin to her lips in order to cover her grin. Well, he certainly got under her skin quick enough, Minerva thought with an inward laugh.

"Yes, in fact, he told me a few days ago that you teach History of Magic."

"Oh, well, I do a little, but not anything like is taught here, I'm sure. Where I grew up, most witches and wizards prefer to blend in with muggles as much as possible. They want their kids to learn just enough magic to help them control their abilities, but that's really about it. So my own mentor taught me the basics only, and I taught the same to the kids I tutored. One of your second years could probably best me, and I'm pretty sure my students couldn't even match up against your first years." She sighed. "It's just a different mentality, I suppose. Anyway, when I was growing up, I didn't even study history of magic. But muggle history was one of my favorite subjects, and I studied it at college. In fact, during the week, I teach ... I taught social studies at a muggle middle school."

"Social studies? This is history and geography, is it not?"

Charlotte nodded. "Throw in a little politics, economics, and that's about right. I only taught witches and wizards on the weekends for a few hours, and after meeting with my first batch of kids, I decided that history of magic was as essential as defense, charms or transfiguration."

"Really? I'll have to be honest and say that most of us here at Hogwarts tend to see history as a rather ... well, as a rather impractical subject. Oh, we require it for every year, but mostly because that is the tradition."

Charlotte shook her head. "Well, I don't know about the students at Hogwarts, but my students needed to learn their history. They live in a culture that likes to pretend their skills don't exist, or if they do, they're somehow unnatural. The boys have it a little easier than the girls. At least the boys see role models in popular culture - Merlin, Gandolf ... the idea of the wise old wizard is a fairly common one in muggle pop history. But for girls ... what is a witch to them? When I first found out that I was a witch, I thought I was destined to grow up mean, ugly, and alone! Between the witches in Macbeth and the Wizard of Oz, I had no desire, at first, to be called a witch."

"Wizard of Oz?" Minerva asked, laughing.

"You haven't seen it? It's a muggle movie ... don't bother, I promise, it's not worth it, though it's incredibly popular in America. Anyway, I felt it would boost my students' confidence and help them understand who they really were if we tried to cover some basic history of magic. And then, as I started to read more about the subject, I began to realize that history of magic also had a lot to teach my magical students about their muggle world. For example, look at the wizarding world's relationship with magical creatures. It's a great parallel to issues of race in American culture. And there are plenty of other examples. I just think that a culture that doesn't truthfully own up to its own past is in grave danger of making the same errors over and over again." Suddenly Charlotte stopped and blushed. "Sorry, I get rather carried away with this."

Minerva grinned broadly. "No, I think it's wonderful you can be so passionate about a subject that I, frankly, find rather tedious. Now, don't give me that offended look!"

Charlotte smiled. "Perhaps I'll be able to change you mind in time."

"Perhaps," Minerva said doubtfully. "Well, you've certainly made up my mind about one thing."

"What is that?"

Minerva paused then said, "I'd like you to teach History of Magic at Hogwarts next year."

Charlotte nearly dropped her tea cup. "What? But ..."

"I don't think I mentioned that, besides being professor of Transfiguration, I am also Deputy Headmistress and have the power to appoint new professors, with the approval of the headmaster of course." She grinned. "But I think I shall be able to convince him."

"Well, I'm flattered, but ..." Charlotte frowned. "It seems rather convenient that you have a history of magic position open at the same time that I've suddenly been foisted upon you."

"You've not been foisted upon us; I am very sincere when I say that we are incredibly happy to have you here. But you're right, it is convenient. We do currently have a professor, but ..."

"Oh, I could never take his or her position!"

"Do not worry, child, I'm not about to fire a teacher just because you've arrived. Our current History of Magic professor is a rather special case, though. Wally Binns is a dead bore."

Charlotte looked down at her plate. "Well, I'm not sure that being boring necessitates firing the man."

Minerva laughed. "Certainly not. If that were the case, half of us would be out of our jobs. No, when I say that Binns is a dead bore, I mean that he is quite literally dead. He's a ghost."

"Really! Just like Sir Nicholas in the Gryffindor Tower? I thought he was amazing! Actually, I could imagine that a ghost would be a fantastic history professor. He might even have first hand experience with one of the time periods ..."

"Well, I doubt Binns was ever creative enough to consider that. No, Binns was never a born teacher, alive or dead. The only reason I think he stayed on here after he died is that it was his life long ambition to write a comprehensive history of the goblins, and having never completed it, he simply could not cross to the other side. Teaching has always kept him from concentrating solely on his research. Believe me, Charlotte, when I say that Binns would thank you if you took the position from him. He could spend all his time in the Hogwarts library, and he would be a happy ghost indeed."

Charlotte bit her lip. "Still, I feel a little awkward ... I have no magical education to speak of. And if this job were posted, I'd never in a million years be the most qualified candidate."

"You may not have a magical education, but you've studied muggle history at an American university, and I should think that you've learned the necessary lessons of the discipline, even if this is a slightly different branch of the field. And as for being more or less qualified, you have one of the most important qualifications we require right now - you're on our side. With the war starting, we can't afford to bring in any teacher we cannot trust. It's imperative that our students remain safe, and in the past few years, we've had quite a lot of trouble finding good people to fill these positions. I'll be frank: the pay is not great, and you'll spend almost every waking minute with teenagers. Not many wizards are terribly excited by this prospect. If you feel the same way, I would understand completely, but I would think, seeing that you're a teacher by trade ..."

"No, I would love the opportunity!" Charlotte's eyes were bright with excitement, and Minerva felt her heart swell. When the young woman's blue eyes sparkled like that, she reminded Minerva so much of Albus.

"Wonderful!"

"I still can't help feeling, though, that there's a bit of nepotism involved in all this."

"Nonsense! I knew when I listened to you start talking about the subject that this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. But I'll be frank: if this were Defense or some more practical subject, we would want someone with a more orthodox educational background. But with History ... well, I think a fresh approach could be quite useful, and, well, please don't be offended, but I doubt you can do much worse than Binns. I suppose I should warn you, though, that there will be those on the staff who may not welcome you with open arms."

Charlotte frowned. "Yes, I'm sure Professor Snape will be none too pleased."

"Severus? Oh, dear, don't worry yourself about him. He's just a little ..."

"Complicated. I know, Granddad told me."

Minerva blinked. How strange to hear Albus called that!

Charlotte smiled awkwardly. "It's uncomfortable for you to hear me call him that, isn't it?"

Minerva blinked again. She hadn't realized she had been so transparent. "It will take some getting used to, I admit, but it's not a bad thing."

"So, there are other professors I should watch out for?"

Minerva grimaced. "Just promise me that, if a woman in large glasses comes up to you and says that you're going to die tomorrow, you won't believe her."

"She sounds ... charming."

"Sibyll Trelawney is ... well, I had better not say. I do not like speaking ill of my colleagues." Minerva shook her head. "Anyway, term will start September 1^st, so you will have some time to prepare your initial lessons. We'll provide you with an office and a residence."

"Will the students know that I'm the headmaster's granddaughter?"

"It will be hard to keep some of them from knowing, but for the most part, the students are usually under the assumption that teachers have no personal lives whatsoever. There aren't more than a handful of students who have figured out that Albus and I are married."

Charlotte nodded, then grinned. "I can't tell you how excited I am about this." She bit her lip. "In fact, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to get started. One of the books in my room will be a perfect source for... by the way, remind me later to ask you about how that bookshelf appeared out of nowhere ...Listen to me, I'm so excited that I'm rambling like a mad woman ..."

Minerva laughed. "Go on then, get started. I've enjoyed our talk, though."

Charlotte smiled. "Me, too. Thank you again, for everything."

Just as Charlotte was leaving, Minerva called after her, "Oh, I've forgotten to ask you something."

Charlotte looked back.

"This evening, there will be an Order meeting."

"Order ... oh, yes, of course."

"Albus wanted me to ask if you felt up to coming. It would mean ... it would mean reliving much that is painful to you."

Charlotte sighed. "But it will help the Order."

Minerva nodded.

"Okay. I'll be there, then."

"Good. I'll come get you when it's time to leave, and we can travel together. Albus will meet us there."

"Will ... will Severus be there?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Yes, he is part of the Order. Why do you ask?"

Charlotte's face reddened. "No reason ... I just ... he told me today to stay out of his way," she muttered. "He blames me - with good reason, I suppose - for his blown cover. How did he become a spy?"

"I think that's something that only he should tell you."

Charlotte nodded. "Of course, I just ... well, I'll see you this evening."

Minerva watched her leave, then shook her head ruefully. Charlotte was in for a surprise if she thought she could decipher the code was Severus Snape, but then, if the younger woman was anything like her grandfather, that wouldn't stop her from trying.

*

Ronald Weasley glanced worriedly at his best friend.

"If only he didn't have to stay with those rotten muggles," he muttered to Hermione as they headed toward the magical barrier separating Platform 9 ¾ from the rest of King's Cross Station.

"Yeah, I know," she whispered back. As Harry and Ginny raced through the magical barrier, Hermione asked, "Has he said anything at all about Sirius or that night or ..."

Ron shook his head. "And don't ask me to press him on it. If he needs his time, then I'm going to give it to him."

Hermione looked for a moment as if she were about to argue, but instead she simply nodded. "Ready?" she asked, looking at the barrier.

When they crossed through to the other side of the platform, Ron found himself gaping at the small crowd waiting for them. His parents, Fred and George, Professor Lupin, Tonks, Moody, and even Hermione's parents were all gathered around, talking.

"Ron! Ginny!" his mom cried, running toward him and hugging him quickly. After she had hugged Ginny, she said to Harry, "Oh, and Harry dear - how are you?"

As soon as Ron had escaped his mother's embrace, he went over to the twins. "What are they supposed to be?" he asked, pointing at the outrageous jackets they were wearing.

"Finest dragon skin, little bro," said Fred, giving his zip a little tweak. "Business is booming and we thought we'd treat ourselves." Ron felt a mixture of pride, envy, and amusement as Fred and George both stuck out their dragon-clad chests.

"What's everyone doing here?" he asked George as Harry and Lupin began to talk. Hermione had gone over to her parents, who were hugging her fiercely. As he watched her smile up at her mom, he felt a little breathless. She'd always had a great smile, he thought suddenly, even before that incident in her fourth year had allowed her to get her teeth shrunk.

"Are you listening to me?" George was asking. "We're here to ..."

But George stopped talking and stared instead at their dad, who had started walking along side Mad-Eye Moody. They headed toward Harry's muggle relatives, whom Ron just noticed were staring malevolently at the group of them. George and Fred quickly followed their father, as did Lupin, Tonks, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. Ron waited as Hermione disentangled herself from her parents. "What's going on?" he whispered to her as they took up the rear of the group. Maybe Harry didn't have to back after all!

Hermione shook her head.

"Good afternoon," his dad said pleasantly to Harry's big, beefy uncle. Ron glanced at Harry's bony aunt, who seemed to be twitching with fear, then almost laughed at the sight of Harry's stupid looking cousin.

"We thought we'd just have a few words with you about Harry," Ron's dad continued.

"Yeah," growled Moody. "About how he's treated when he's at your place." Ron felt his heart sink. So much for the idea that Harry would stay with them all summer.

"I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house -" Harry's uncle bellowed.

"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursely," growled Moody. Ron looked over at Hermione and grinned. She held a hand to her mouth, but he could still hear her soft laughter.

"Anyway, that's not the point," Tonks said. "The point is, if we find out you've been horrible to Harry -"

"- and make no mistake, we'll hear about it," Professor Lupin added.

"Yes," Ron's dad said, "even if you won't let Harry use the fellytone -"

Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione whispered, "Telephone."

"Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter's been mistreated in any way, you'll have us to answer to," said Moody.

Harry's uncle seemed ready to explode. "Are you threatening me, sir?" he said loudly.

"Yes, I am," Moody said. Ron choked back a laugh.

"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?"

Ron had to admit, for a muggle, Harry's uncle did look rather frightening.

"Well..." said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Harry's uncle leapt backward in horror and collided with a luggage trolley. "Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley." Then Moody said to Harry, "So, Potter ... give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along ..."

Harry's aunt whimpered, and Ron heard Hermione snicker beside him.

"Bye, then, Potter," said Moody, grasping Harry's shoulder for a moment.

"Take care, Harry," Professor Lupin said quietly. "Keep in touch."

"Harry," Ron's mom whispered, hugging Harry tightly, "we'll have you away from there as soon as we can.

Ron stepped forward and grabbed Harry's hand in a quick but hearty shake. "We'll see you soon, mate."

"Really soon, Harry," Hermione said. "We promise."

Harry said nothing, but he nodded and met Ron's, then Hermione's, eyes. Ron thought he looked more confident than he had since before ... well before this whole mess had started. Smiling and raising a hand in farewell, Harry walked off, leaving his relatives trailing behind him.

As Ron watched him leave, he heard Ginny say, "That was a great idea! I thought his Uncle was going to burst!"

Ron's mom said, "Now Ginny," but she was grinning.

Professor Lupin laughed and said, "It was all Tonks's doing."

The young auror blushed as pink as her hair. "That's not so. Remus originally came up with the idea ..."

"Well, I think we can safely say that Mad-Eye stole the show," Ron's dad said with a chuckle. Then, waving at Hermione's parents, he said, "David! Jane! You were telling me about your trash combater ..."

Hermione sighed. "I wish he wouldn't talk to them."

Ron scowled. "Well, I'm really sorry if he embarrasses you but ..."

"Oh, pipe down Ron, that's not it at all." She sighed again, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'm always afraid he's going to start talking to them about ... you know, the war. I haven't really kept them abreast of what's going on ..."

"Oh. You mean they don't know about the Department of Mysteries?"

Hermione looked away uncomfortably. "Well, they don't know about Voldemort, actually."

Ron shuddered at the name, then said, "What! How can they not know about you-know-who?"

"Keep your voice down!" she hissed. "They know about him, but I just neglected to tell them that he's, well, back."

"But that was last year!"

"I know, I know! Now who's being the nag?" she complained.

"But if they find out ..."

"Yeah, I know! That's what I'm afraid of. If they find out, they'll pull me of Hogwarts in a second."

Ron gaped at her. "No, they couldn't do that." At least, he hoped not. He tried to imagine Hogwarts without Hermione, and suddenly his chest hurt.

"Yes, they could. But I don't plan on letting them do that." She sighed. "Look, they're coming this way. I've got to go."

"Can you come visit? What about mid-July? We can get our O.W.L. scores together," he said, knowing that the test results would take her mind off anything.

She grinned. "Yeah, I'd really like that but ...we'll have to see. Depends on what my parents want."

"Hermione?" her dad called out. "Are you ready, dear?"

She waved at Ron and started to turn away, but before he could talk himself out of it, he had grabbed her hand. "Write, okay?"

She looked down at their intertwined fingers, then back at him. He felt his face go red and was about to pull away, but she squeezed his hand. "Definitely. You too?"

He nodded and reluctantly let go. As she and her parents walked off, Fred and George started to sing, "Ronnie's got a girlfriend, Ronnie's got a girlfriend."

"Leave your brother alone," Molly scolded, but she gave her youngest son a grin and a wink that embarrassed him even more than his brothers' taunts. "Get your stuff, you lot. We need to hurry back to No. 12."

"No. 12?" Ron groaned. "We can't go back home this summer?"

"Don't worry, we'll be back at the Burrow tomorrow. But there's an Order meeting in a few hours, so I figured we might as well stay in London."

Ron perked up. "An order meeting? So, you're bringing Ginny and me and Fred and George along because we get to attend now, right? I mean, Ginny and I did face death eaters and ..."

"Don't you brag about that, young man!" his mom scolded.

"And no," his dad added, "you don't get to attend the meetings."

"And by you," Fred put in, "he means you and Ginny. As George and I are now out of school ..." their mom huffed. " ...and of age, we've become full fledged members."

Ron sulked. "But we've been through so much more ..."

"Come along!" his mom said in a tone that told him this conversation was finished.

"Don't worry," Ginny whispered as they loaded their stuff in the Ministry car (apparently, his dad was back in the good graces of the Ministry now that the prats had realized You-Know-Who really was back). "I've got Fred and George's extendable ears."

"Yeah, but remember, they didn't work last time."

"I made slight improvement on their invention. I made it so the ears trick the Imperturbable Charm."

Ron gaped at his sister.

Ginny smiled and gave an airy shrug. "What do you expect a girl to do with all her spare time, hmm?"

As Ron climbed into the car, he glanced at Ginny with a newfound respect. Maybe his little sister wasn't the innocent little girl he'd always assumed. Then he thought about getting attacked in the Department of Mysteries, about Harry losing Sirius, about Hermione squeezing his hand. As Ginny climbed in beside him, he whispered, "We're not kids anymore, are we?"

It was a stupid, obvious thing to say, Ron realized after he'd spoken, but Ginny looked at him with serious eyes and said, "No, Ron, we're not."