All of the mismatched chairs in the staffroom were taken, save for two. Although the meeting was not due to begin, most of the staff liked to arrive early to catch up on non-official business, namely gossip, though with the Yule season coming to a close and most of the students having been gone on holiday there wasn't much to discuss.

A plate of half-eaten biscuits and a pot of tea took the places of honor in the middle of the table, along with a small ashtray with two cigarettes in the middle. Smoke still curled from their stubbed ends.

Minerva McGonagall eyed the cigarettes disapprovingly while Rolanda Hooch reclined back with a still-lit one in her mouth, making it for all the world look elegant. Her hawkish eyes closed for a moment as she inhaled.

Conversation was fleeting, comments flitting about like sparrows, coming to rest here and there with no real substance. Horace's last minute retirement had already been discussed ad nauseum, his true reasons for leaving in the middle of the year debated clockwise and widdershins.

Footsteps outside of the doorway sparked everyone's' attention.

Headmaster Dumbledore entered, his magnificent white beard preceding his emerald green robes. He clutched a handful of parchments - guides for the new term, no doubt. "Good afternoon, everyone. I trust we have all had a restful Yule holiday."

Nods and affirmations.

Dumbledore sat at his customary place at the head of the table, looking at the smiling faces around him. He set the parchments on the table and took a deep breath.

"Now, you all know that our dear Horace decided to leave at the end of last term. And we did manage to have a lovely retirement and sending-off party." He smiled and met everyone's gaze. "So, with that said, I would like to welcome our new Potions' Master and Head of Slytherin, Professor Severus Snape."

The awe in the room was palpable, bordering on outright hostility. Shoulders tensed, eyes widened. A tall, thin young man entered the room uncertainly. He was pale, with black eyes and raven hair cut to his chin. He wore a black button-up vest with a white shirt underneath and black trousers with slightly scuffed black shoes. A black cravat was tucked into his vest. He dressed smartly, though completely unlike the other professors. And he was young, very young; 21 at the most. He stood perfectly straight, though his shoulders hunched forward in a scoliotic curve. His dark eyes surveyed the room warily. A thin, black wand holster laid against his left hip. An ebony wand protruded.

Minerva McGonagall, despite her wide-eyed stare, was the first to break free of her spell and stand, shaking the young man's long-fingered hand. "Severus," she whispered. "It is...it is good to see you, lad. Congratulations...and welcome."

The young man nodded. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall." His throat bobbed. "I am honored to be back at Hogwarts as a member of the staff."

Madame Pomfrey stood next, resting her hand on Severus's shoulder and smiling warmly. "Welcome back, Severus."

Severus nodded. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."

The rest of the professors did not quite break free of their trances. They murmured their welcomes behind their teeth, their frozen smiles. Their words were broken, offered in hushed tones. But stuck in their throats were the words they wanted to say, when the meeting was over and they were free to talk with Dumbledore about this young man. They had all taught him. They knew exactly who he was.

How could they not?

They had watched him grow from a frightened, traumatized little boy to an impudent and lovelorn teenager and finally - damningly - into a malicious, seething young adult with a penchant for the Dark Arts and venom in his heart. His intelligence had frightened all of them, and not more than once had he been described as a less sociopathic, more emotionally-driven Tom Riddle.

Now here he was, standing before them in a seemingly contrite pose, wearing pure white shirtsleeves and acting as though nothing worrisome had transpired in his youth within these stone walls. He was the very image of innocence and purity, the prodigal son returned for his father's favor.

Dumbledore gestured to the remaining open seat. "Severus, please, have a seat."

Severus folded himself into the chair like a raven settling on a perch; shifting his lean frame here and there until he fit comfortably. He laid his thin, pale hands upon the table and waited.

Dumbledore shuffled the papers in front of him. "This term, we are enhancing the protective barrier around the Forbidden Forest. Professors Kettleburn and Flitwick are helping in that regard, and I believe with a joint effort of practicality and magic we can find a way to keep the students away from the edge of the forest without incident."

Heads nodded. This had been an issue for some time. Students were enchanted by the centaurs who were not, in fact, very enchanted by them.

Severus quietly slid his wand from its holster and conjured an emerald quill and parchment. He began busily taking notes, his tiny, staccato handwriting barely taking up any of the page.

The other professors stared. No one had taken notes at a staff meeting in ages.

Kettleburn cleared his throat, nodding. "I'm thinking a barrier of solid wood fencing should be enough to keep the odd creature out - deer, things like that. Sentient creatures like centaur won't be bothered; they have no interest. The bairns, however, will be harder to keep out."

Flitwick nodded. "We could cast a Repelling Net."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't want them getting hurt, Filius."

Flitwick replied quickly, "Oh no! They wouldn't get hurt, just...bounced back a bit, say."

Severus cleared his throat. All heads swiveled to face him. Dumbledore tilted his head. "Yes, Severus?"

Severus said smoothly, "Two considerations, Headmaster: the fencing should be made of silver, to prevent creatures of any ill repute from entering the grounds. Secondly, we should be thinking thaumaturgically regarding repelling the students from the boundaries."

"How so?" Flitwick asked, intrigued.

"Create a thaumaturigical illusion that would repel them: a foul odor, perhaps, or perhaps a sound frequency that they find disturbing. Something sensory that will dissuade them from entering. Harmless, yes, but effective. Children are highly emotional creatures. If the smell or sound does not encourage them to flee, a physical barrier will."

A small trace of a smile flickered on Dumbledore's lips. Flitwick nodded emphatically at Severus. "Yes, illusory magic could work. I would have to research how to make the illusion last for the term, but it is certainly a project I would be willing to research."

Kettleburn's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms.

Severus bent his head to his paper and scribbled furiously, his quill's elegant green feather fluttering madly. His arched nose almost touched the parchment.

Dumbledore nodded decisively. "Well, that's one matter done, then. Since we're on the topic, Filius, what are you teaching the second half of term?"

The meeting dragged on, as meetings in all corners of the world are wont to do, until it was Severus's turn to present his plan for the term. He withdrew a parchment from his vest and unfurled it. It was half a meter long.

Dumbledore seemed ready to indulge him, but Kettleburn grunted, "This is for one term, Mr. Snape?"

Severus nodded. "Indeed. I took the liberty of examining Professor Slughorn's notes and they were not only less than thorough, but he was missing a great deal of required information for each class. Furthermore, I remember the lack of true substance within his classes from my time as a student. For example, staples such as the 12 uses of dragons' blood are missing from the first year coursework, the antidote to common poisons is missing from third year, and very few students - judging from old exams kept in the closets I've emptied out - are familiar with bezoars. These are pieces of very common Potions knowledge. Therefore, I have completely redrawn the curriculum."

Professor Binns inquired, "Do we expect students to be poisoned, Se-Professor Snape?"

Severus sighed, "Let us hope not. However, accidents happen."

"That is what the staff is for."

"Agreed," Severus nodded, setting his parchment down and crossing his arms over his chest. "But the students should also learn to be self-sufficient. Knowledge is a useful tool."

"Hogwarts is safe," Professor Sinistra pointed out softly. "If a student is injured, Madame Pomfrey will see to them, or their Professor can assist them in a timely manner."

Severus countered calmly, "And if not? If an accident occurs after hours? On school grounds? If a student panics?"

Sinistra shook her head. "Our children are safe."

Severus shook his head and murmured darkly, "You are deluded, Professor. The children have an illusion of safety. Hogwarts is not an impenetrable fortress. It is a magical boarding school. We are the children's' guardians, yes, but they do not walk around in suits of armor."

"Neither should they," Binns chimed in. "But they are well-educated, and we have rules."

Severus took a deep breath. "Rules are broken all of the time. Children play, argue, fight. They get injured."

"And bezoars?" Rolanda asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Are you requesting a definition or a lecture?"

Rolanda arched a brow, but remained silent.

Severus sighed. "Horace Slughorn made grievous errors in omitting many things from his classwork. I merely gave you three examples. And when the students leave Hogwarts, they will not be in a protective bubble. Some of them may become Aurors. They will need a myriad of knowledge."

"Are you suggesting that Horace was a poor instructor?"

Severus shook his head. "No. I am not suggesting it. I am saying, quite plainly, that he was not ideal and had a great many things he could have done better."

The uproar in the staff room was monumental.

Severus simply sat and continued to take notes while his new colleagues bickered.

"Horace was a beloved member of this staff!"

"He was a gentleman and a fine instructor."

"Horace deserves his retirement, he has worked hard for many years-"

Severus finished his notes and stood, palms flat. He spoke softly, slowly, and coldly. "All I am suggesting is a change to my curriculum. This does not require approval."

Pairs of angry eyes stared Severus down, and they were met by his cold black ones. He folded his parchment neatly and handed it to Dumbledore.

"At least, not by you."

Dumbledore nodded his thanks and set it with his other parchments.

Severus tilted his head. "Is this meeting adjourned, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Adjourned, indeed."

Severus magicked away his quill and notes wandlessly, to the amazement of his colleagues, and left.

"Dumbledore, I would like to have a word with-"

"What do you think you're doing, bringing this boy he-"

"He is a menace and a disgrace to Hog-"

"You do remember his treatment of James Potter and his friends, don't you-"

"How long before he murders us a-"

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore bellowed, rounding on the cavalcade of Professors who had followed him up the winding steps to his office, robes swirling at his feet as he pressed a hand to the stone wall to steady himself.

The professors as a whole recoiled, Minerva grasping her brooch.

"Enough," Dumbledore repeated softly.

Minerva stepped forward, clasping her hands and tilting her hand. "Headmaster, surely you understand our...trepidation," she said delicately. "Severus was a chore of a student in his youth, to be sure, and now as a member of the staff, well...it seems an odd choice."

Dumbledore looked through his half-moon glasses at Minerva slowly and sternly. "It is the most logical choice I have made in some time, my dear Minerva," he said gravely.

Minerva stepped back, chastened for a moment.

"But why?" Madame Pince snapped from the back.

Dumbledore crossed his arms across his chest. "Severus has skills in Potions beyond measure. He tested exceedingly well in his NEWTs and OWLs. And his curriculum changes are perfectly in order."

"But...Head of House?" Professor Binns inquired.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "He was, after all, sorted into Slytherin. It stands to reason that he should take the recently vacated position of Head of Slytherin as well. I believe that none of us gathered here were placed in Slytherin House."

Professor Flitwick raised a timid finger in the air, crooked and shaking. His face was pained. "Headmmaster," he whispered. "I...I heard r-rumors that S-Severus was a Death Eater. He was so skilled...I should have stopped him...he learned too much..." He held his face in his hands. "It's no wonder he suggested illusion magic..."

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him and stood still. "Knowledge can be very powerful, and very dangerous, Filius. That does not mean that we should restrict students from learning." He looked them all over in turn. "That will be all for this evening. Thank you."

Down the hall, Severus had heard their shouting, their insults. He knew what they thought of him. Their minds were like broken sieves, leaking both the jewels of their kind thoughts and the coal of their rotten ones. Their words were just the verbal affirmation of their hatred for him.

He had to admit, it was not undeserved. He had been a dark stain at Hogwarts during his last years here, a cruel and malevolent student who had fallen in with the only crowd accepting of such an unloved, despondent soul. It was only right that the professors who had tutored him came to view him as a poison come to taint their crystalline waters.

But Dumbledore knew the truth. He knew why he was here, why he could be trusted. And that was all that mattered. As long as Dumbledore was Headmaster, as long as Dumbledore had the staff's unwavering faith and adoration, Severus was safe.

Perhaps someday, they would understand.