DADA Assistant
10th August 2006
Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, respected member of the Wizengamot and a still surprised recipient of the Order of Merlin, was sat in the Headmasters' office, his office, across from a pile of papers, staring across at Remus Lupin.
"You want an assistant?" Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," Remus nodded.
When he'd first been hired, his wife had been his acting assistant while she and their son had been living in the castle. But as their son grew, Tonks had since found a job of her own and Teddy had gone with her. They'd been able to buy themselves a small cottage which they'd dreamt of doing since the war. But it had left Remus without an assistant and so the task of teaching his missed lessons had more often than not, fallen to Severus.
"Why?"
"Frankly, Severus, I think I need the extra help. I know you've noticed...it takes longer for me to recover every month, more than it used to. I'm old..."
"We are the same age, Lupin," Severus scoffed, "And I have just as much work as you."
"You have far more work than I do and you look younger than me anyway," Remus smiled. "I know it's because of the potions," he said quickly before the pale man could speak and, indeed, he was right.
Severus looked ten years younger than he was and for the first time in all the years that Remus had known him, the man looked healthy. The end of the war, the truth about his years as a spy becoming known despite his protests, had been good for him. It also helped that the potions he had been forced to take for years to combat Nagini's venom had long lasting, regenerative effects. There were still occasions when he needed them now, even after eight years but he wasn't nearly as dependant on them as he had been.
"This assistant," Severus began, leaning forwards, resting his arms on the desk, "I assume you have a candidate in mind."
"I do," Remus answered.
"And?"
"He suggested it actually..."
"...It's Potter, isn't it?" the dark haired man sighed.
"Yes. Did he write to you?"
"Frequently," Severus, replied, "But he made no mention of it."
"You don't write back as often as he'd like, you know," Remus commented and continued when Severus didn't reply. "Anyway, he knows how...difficult things have been for me and, well, he suggested that I get an assistant and that he could do the job."
"I thought Potter..."
"Harry," Remus interjected, but he was ignored.
"Would have preferred to remain as head of the Auror Office."
"I think part of him still does but, well, ever since Albania..." he trailed off.
Three months ago, Harry and two other Aurors had been tracking some Neo-Death Eaters as they had been dubbed; people who for some reason, chose to mimic the activities and ideals of the original Death Eaters. Harry had been badly wounded. He'd spent a month in hospital and almost lost his left arm, as it was, he'd been extremely lucky to have kept it.
"I think he wants something...safer," Remus said quietly. It wasn't the first time that Harry had been injured because of his work, but this had been the worst one.
"He does recall that his formative years here could hardly be considered 'safe'."
Remus gave a small smile, "I'm sure he does. But things are different now," he said.
"Hmmm," the man's lip twitched a little.
"Here," Remus said, placing a tightly bound scroll on the desk, "The paperwork," he explained.
Severus looked away and caught the eager blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore's portrait who'd moved to one of the others paintings around the room so that he could see Snape's reactions better, even though the younger man kept looking away from him.
"I will see what, if anything, can be done about the Wolfsbane potion," he said, standing up, his long black robes shifting elegantly around him. "Now I have a meeting to attend at the Ministry. Bring Potter here tomorrow morning, after breakfast," he added before apparating away.
Fawkes chirped as he left and went back to preening his luxurious feathers.
"How are you?" Harry asked Remus when he arrived at Hogwarts the next morning.
It was three weeks before the start of the new school year so the castle was filled with only the teachers. It was strange for him to see Hogwarts without any students in it.
"I'm...coping," Remus replied.
"Really, Moony."
"Harry, I'm fine, tired maybe, but I'm fine. You're the one who spent a month in hospital."
"Well, I'm alright now," Harry replied.
"Your arm?"
"Better," Harry nodded, flexing his left arm, "But I'm told it's a good thing I didn't go in for professional Quiddich playing. I take another bludger to the arm and...well..." he said. "I don't want Ginny and James going through it all again, they were worried sick. They hardly left the hospital the whole month."
"I know that, and also I know that you'd rather stay an Auror."
"It's not about me," Harry shook his head. "Anyway, how's...the headmaster?" he asked.
Harry never really knew how to address Severus Snape, even now. He respected the man more than anyone he'd ever met. They had infrequent, not as often as he'd like, meetings over tea or fire whiskey and chess when Severus turned up after the main event of Christmas or birthday parties too. But he didn't think it appropriate to call him 'Severus'. For one thing, he'd never been given permission, unlike every other adult he'd met who had since insisted on being called by their given name.
"Busy," Remus answered with a faint smile.
"Oh," Harry breathed.
He wrote to Snape a lot, probably too much, but he hardly ever got replies. He knew not to expect too much from the man. He was intensely solitary and private and Harry didn't think that would change. But it didn't feel right not to include him, or at least attempt to include him. He was only alive because of Snape, he had a family because of Snape, he owed everything to the man. And Snape hadn't ever asked for even a thank you in return. Not once. But Harry made sure that he knew that he was grateful.
"Lacewing Flies," Remus said to the gargoyle at the spiral staircase and they slowly ascended to the office. Just as Dumbledore had had passwords of his favourite confectionaries, the Potions Master had passwords of ingredients, it seemed only fitting.
"No!" they heard Snape cry, the door of his office slightly ajar.
"But, Severus..." Albus spoke quietly.
"No, Albus! I've done enough!" the younger man replied, angrily. "You can't keep me here forever! I seem to recall that I agreed to remain as headmaster for a year, two at the most, it's been eight years! Eight more years of my bloody, wretched life!"
"Language!" one of the portraits muttered, but was ignored.
"I never forced you to stay," Dumbledore, or rather his portrait replied kindly, "You have remained because you excel at your job and I dare say, you enjoy it. Like many who come here, some of the best years of your young life have been spent here..."
"And some of the worst!" Snape hissed.
"I seem to remember that you were here quite a lot explaining some of your worst little...pranks gone wrong," another portrait spoke with a chuckle.
"My pranks?!"
"Yes, Severus, not all of the trouble you found yourself in was in retaliation to James Potter. Or have you forgotten what happened to those pixies in your third year?"
"Pixies!" Severus repeated again, livid.
"I remember that you and Lilly..."
"You old coot! This is my future...whatever may be left of it...I'm talking about and all you want to do is remiss about my school days!"
"You always did have a tendency for the dramatic," Dumbledore said, fondly and Snape scoffed.
"Haven't I don't enough?" the younger man asked in a rare display of weakness.
"My dear boy, what will you do if you leave? Retreat to Spinner's End? To Prince Manor? Oh, but wait, you sold your house at Spinner's End didn't you, and, if memory serves, you set the money aside for..."
"Don't you ever mention that! Ever!" Snape warned.
"What? He sold his house?" Harry whispered to Remus.
"I suppose, in that case, you'll go to Prince Manor, sit alone in the dark and brood? Yes, that would be a splendid use of your talents, Severus."
"My talents," Snape hissed, "Are useless now."
"Whatever do you mean by that?"
"You know I didn't become a teacher because I wanted to. I was more use in one year as a spy than I ever was as a teacher in two decades."
"So you'll go back to being a spy? Who will you spy on? And if you do, it won't be easy. The wizarding world is hardly ignorant of what you did."
"Bloody Potter," Snape muttered.
"In fact, I think everyone knows what you did, you have a biography, don't you?" Dumbledore asked, happily.
"I banned that feeble excuse for a novel, at least where this place is concerned."
"A pity," the portrait replied, seriously, "I'm told it was very interesting."
"Must you..." Severus stopped suddenly and then, without warning or even the slightest noise, the door was flung wide open and he was standing there with his wand in his hand, pointed right at Harry and Remus. "Eavesdropping, Potter?" he raised an eyebrow and slowly lowered his wand.
"50 points from Gryffindor?" Harry asked, sarcastically with a small smile.
"...At least," Snape nodded, turning around with a flourish of his robes and leaving the door open for them.
"Fawkes," Harry smiled, walking swiftly over to the phoenix which rested happily on his perch.
"Apparently," Snape began as he sat behind his desk. "You want to change your career," he said to Harry.
"Apparently, so do you," the younger man replied quickly.
"...How much did you hear?"
"A bit," Harry admitted after a moment. "I didn't know you sold your house in Spinner's End," he said.
"I wasn't using it," Snape shrugged.
"What about Prince Manor?" he asked curiously.
He'd only ever seen it a handful of times, but the splendour and warmth of Prince Manor was simply stunning. Severus said that it was a depressing place, but Harry disagreed. It was beautiful, probably twice as old as as Malfoy Manor and as such, it had been hidden from the Death Eaters during the years of war. And of course, Severus Snape had been disowned from the Prince family line at birth because of his mother's marriage to a muggle. But, with no other living member of the family, the house and its wealth had finally gone to Severus.
"Never you mind," Snape said, menacingly, but Harry hadn't been scared of him in many a year. Not since he'd seen the broken shell of a man in a memory, weeping as he held the dead Lily Potter in his arms, to be precise. "Lupin tells me that this assistants' job was your idea. Explain," he demanded.
"Well," Harry sighed. "I think...Remus has probably told you. This wasn't the first time I've been hurt because of my job. I put it off last time but, well, I think I've had enough excitement for one lifetime..." he trailed off.
"I see," the pale man breathed. "You realise, however, that you have no teaching qualification that justifies such an abrupt action on my part, to hire you."
"I don't have any teaching qualification, no, but I've trained Aurors."
"And that automatically justifies teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts to children?"
"Actually, I think teaching children will be harder," Harry smiled.
"Exactly. They are accident prone. They do not listen. Some don't even want to learn what you have to teach them. Aurors, I would sincerely hope, are none of those things."
"Well, I did meet one Auror a while ago and she was the clumsiest person I've ever..."
"Potter," Snape rolled his eyes. "If you want this job, you'll have to teach classes and complete a teaching course at the same time. It's not an easy option."
"You did it," Harry said.
"How do you know that?" Severus glared momentarily at Dumbledore's suddenly innocent looking portrait, suspiciously.
"It said so in...argh," he broke off when Remus kicked his foot. "I mean...erm..." Harry stammered, feeling suddenly very much like a child.
"That blasted book, wasn't it?" Snape sighed.
"...It's really not that bad," Harry told him, "James loves it. He doesn't want to hear Beedle the Bard at bedtime, he'd rather I read him 'The Man in Black'," he said, quoting the title of Snape's dreaded biography with a smile and Dumbledore chuckled. "Anyway...this isn't just...look, I've thought about this a lot. Being an Auror was what I wanted for so long but I spent most of my time here just trying to stay alive because of Dark Wizards. I don't want to spend the rest of my life catching them."
"You'd rather work for one instead," Snape said, dryly.
"You're not a Dark Wizard."
"Was all your schooling truly wasted? Do you really not know the definition of the term, especially when one is sitting right in front of you? Are you quite sure you've been head of the Auror Office for three years?"
"Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "Really. Harry, I think teaching is a wonderful idea."
"Despite my protestations, I am the headmaster here, Albus," Snape sneered in disapproval.
"Indeed you are, Severus," the old man's eyes positively glowed, "And the decision is yours."
"You are sure about this?" Severus asked Harry.
"Completely."
"I can't have even an assistant professor changing his mind in the middle of the school year."
"I won't change my mind," Harry told him, confidently.
"Fine," Snape took up a quill and quickly scrawled his spidery signature at the bottom of a long scroll. He then wordlessly spelled it dry, rolled it up and handed it to Harry. "Welcome to Hogwarts...Assistant Professor Potter," he said without emotion.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry smiled, far too used to the emotional masks of Severus Snape to take any offence as he took the scroll from him.
"You will be expected to keep the same hours as your...mentor and to teach his lessons when he is unable. It now saves me the chore of doing it myself," he said smugly.
"Of course," Harry nodded. "Where am I supposed to live? I don't suppose I'll be back in Gryffindor Tower, will I?"
"The third floor will, I think be best suited. There's always been extra accommodation for assistant professors, but they've hardly been used. The most obvious for you would be the rooms near to Lupin's and your classroom."
"There's more?"
"Naturally. There is a staff meeting in a week which you will be expected to attend. Until then...I'd advise you to familiarise yourself with Lupin's plans. I assume that you will show your assistant to his rooms," Snape turned to Remus.
"I'd be delighted, Severus," Remus stood. "And what will you do?"
"Among other things, I will need to justify hiring a new member of staff," he answered, eyeing the mountain of paperwork on his desk.
"Don't you have final say on who works here?" the werewolf asked.
"Naturally, but Albus neglected to mention the fact that the Ministry needs ten rolls of parchment for every decision made, whether it be for Hogwarts or what they themselves have for dinner every day. But I doubt they'll but up much resistance when they learn just who your assistant is," Snape said, taking a vial from his robes to place on his desk. "Your potion for the month. I imagine the taste will be worse than ever but it may improve your recovery time," he explained.
"You improved it so quickly? I only told you..."
"I am a Potions Master," Snape sighed dramatically and Remus smiled kindly.
A.N. This is set in 2006, so at most, Harry's son, James Sirius Potter is about three years old.
