Why They Are There – a Harry Potter fanfiction

AN: Just something I whipped together quickly to see if I could.

For Minerva, it was all about the children.

She was no replacement for Albus, who had arguably been the best Transfiguration professor in the last hundred years, but she did not care. She had talent, talent enough to work almost anywhere, but she was content at Hogwarts. She never sought to further her lot in life, finding her post as Deputy Headmistress to be more than sufficient acknowledgement. She needed nothing more.

Minerva was not a born teacher like Filius, but she loved her family dearly. The students of Hogwarts were her children, her sons and daughters and nieces and nephews. Albus the old grandfather and the other teachers were the aunts and uncles, from good-natured Hagrid to the black sheep Sybil and Severus. Even Argus Filch had a place in Minerva's heart.

Contrary to what some might say, Minerva was not given to favoritism. She loved her little lions dearly, but never, even in the darkest days of occupation, did she forget her eagles and badgers and snakes. She loved them all so much, that she was torn apart inside when they fought, and it was for that reason that she opposed Severus so vehemently. The Potions Master had no right to break up her family by fomenting discord.

But after the war, the only reason that she cursed Severus' name was that he was not there to protect the children.

For all Minerva's faults, to her there was no higher calling.

For Filius, it was all about teaching.

He did not love children in the way that Minerva did, but the little wizard, as powerful as he was short, loved teaching. He could have any job he wanted with a swish of his wand, between his connections with the goblins and his dueling skills, but to Filius there was no greater joy than the sight of a student suddenly understanding and casting a spell with all their heart.

He never wanted to leave Hogwarts. For him, there was no point to magic if you cannot share it. Not even all of the gold in Gringott's could compare to one of his Ravenclaws bursting into his office at any hour of day or night with a burning light in their eyes and a question on their lips, needing to know.

In truth, he was the least partisan of any of the House Heads. Pomona was loyal to a fault, although just as fair, Minerva would support her Griffindors in order to counter Severus, and Severus would always, always, back Slytherin.

But for Filius, all he cared was that you wanted to learn. And if you asked, he would teach anything he knew.

For Pomona, it was all about growth.

Whether it was a student or a plant, to know that she had nurtured something great out of the base materials she had, although no two were ever the same, was the most wonderful thing in the world. To have worked diligently and patiently and finally produce something beautiful, that was all she sought.

She never thought of herself as being particularly gifted in her field, not like Neville Longbottom, her protégé, was. It was just the way she was that she never noticed that she was the preeminent herbologist of her generation. She thought of it as nice that all of the people sending her letters to ask for advice wanted to involve her in their work, and congratulated the project leaders who sent thanks for turning their work into gold on their efforts. There never was any though of actually leaving Hogwarts to go work with them, after all, she had classes to teach and plants to grow and students to counsel, especially her Hufflepuffs.

She did not aspire to great things. She simply kept moving forward, never leaving anyone behind. And that was all she wanted.

For Severus, it was all about the art.

He never consciously thought of it that way, of course. As a consummate Slytherin, to be too attached to such a thing was a weakness. But nevertheless, it was true. He loved potions, loved them so much that he never even noticed how much he enjoyed brewing until he finally got the job he always wanted. He loved Defense Against the Dark Arts, of that there can be no doubt. But in the middle of the night he always found himself in the dungeons, regardless of what position he was currently teaching, plying his art.

He disliked children. He did not hate them, or perhaps he refused to allow himself the luxury of hate, but like many geniuses he found the fumbling buffoons he had to preside over a trial on his patience and his sanity. He did not like teaching. Every moment spent attempting to guide a class over the Draught of Living Death was a moment that he could not be creating a better sedative. Every moment spent presiding over end-of-year exams was a moment that he was unable to spend creating a potion that could cure lycanthropy (although admission of the existence of that project would never reach Remus Lupin's ears).

Severus could handle Slytherins well enough, and Ravenclaws could be almost bearable, and the Hufflepuffs always tried, even if some of them should never be allowed near a cauldron. But Gryffindors, with their lax attitudes, their pranks, and their astounding ineptitude, Griffindors he loathed. Severus would be the first to admit that his bias, a flaw rooted in his own Hogwarts years. But at times even Minerva had to admit that the lions were nightmarish students.

Severus did not stay at Hogwarts because he feared reprisal outside of the range of Albus' power. He stayed because at least at Hogwarts people were not suspicious of everything he did, people did not peer over his shoulder constantly to check that he was not plotting to poison the water supply. At Hogwarts, he could work in peace.

And maybe, just maybe, at Hogwarts he could find a way to make up for failing Lily.