A/N 1: Apologies to all the reviewers - I had a bit of an email catastrophe this week and lost all the reply links. A big thank you to all, and to Hamlet and the guests!

A/N 2: Getting quite Au-ish. Of course, Merlin's day is my own invention (or more accurately, Cornelius Fudge's). Bear with me! I hope you enjoy it!

It's the Merlin's Day Festival!

Wednesday 29th January, 1995. Slytherin corridor.

There was nothing Licorus Black enjoyed so much as a polite young lady who showed the proper reverence for Pureblood nobility. He could have spoken all afternoon to Tory Greengrass on the courting ritual he'd followed with his inamorata, Magenta Tripe. A loquaciousness that was fortunate for Millicent and Tracey, as they were both currently engaged in the risky business of eavesdropping on Snape. To be accurate, Tracey was doing the eavesdropping. Millicent in the 'listening cupboard' was too a snug fit; she might squeeze her way in, but Merlin only knew how she'd get out. So, Tracey listened, Millicent stood sentinel in the alcove between portrait and cupboard, and Tory, with her list of questions supplied by Millicent, kept crusty old Licorus too engaged to maintain his visual patrol of the corridor.

Millicent was a gal on a mission. She was alerted to something the second she saw Albus Dumbledore, a vision in lilac, wafting down the dungeon steps. Of course he'd be coming to see her housemaster; he seldom, make that never, wandered by to chat to the Snakes. She stood in the alcove and winced as she heard Tory grovelling; if the first-year got any more sickly sweet, Millicent was going to get toothache. At one point, Tory had even curtsied. This Pureblood nonsense was the biggest load of toss Millicent had ever heard and she silently thanked her father for having had the wisdom to marry a muggle.

Licorus was now answering the third to last question and Millicent dug in her pocket and threw a bit of gravel at the listening cupboard door - the signal for Tracey to get out. On the penultimate question, Archie Delingpole raced down the corridor on cue and ploughed into Tory. Licorus was sufficiently enraged at Archie's ungentlemanly conduct that he failed to notice Tracey's exit from the cupboard.

Tracey picked Tory up off the floor, while Millicent snared Archie by the collar and made a great show of hauling him off to AB,

"Oh no! Not AB!" whimpered Archie.

Millicent twisted his collar tight to try and lessen the rampant over-acting. Despite her display of sternness, Licorus still gave her a gimlet-eyed stare. The effrontery that caused his self-combustion of last term was not forgotten; she was hugely tickled by that. Tory asked her last question and Tracey couldn't resist joining her in giving a curtsey. Once inside the common room, the two first-years received their bribe of Drooble's Gum and Nosebleed Nougat, were sworn to silence and despatched.

"So?" Asked Millicent.

"You were right; he is off out again." Said Tracey.

"I knew it! He always goes out whenever Dumbledore or McGonagall come down here. Give me the details."

Tracey recounted what she'd heard.

oOo

(from the air vent of the 'listening cupboard')

"I thought they were looking for it."

"The blasted fools have been looking for it for three months now! I need to see what's taking them so long."

"Very well, Severus. I must trust that you know best."

"Thank you, headmaster. Two days, then? Next Wednesday and Thursday?"

"Two days." Agreed Dumbledore. "Severus? You're heading over to the continent, are you? You're certain you're not going to Hogsmeade?"

Snape gave his superior a puzzled look.

"Only I did hear reports from Hogsmeade after New Year … several reports, as a matter of fact."

Dumbledore took a few moments to enjoy his youngest professor's embarrassment. It wasn't often that Severus Snape was lost for words.

oOo

"Next week it is!"

"I dunno, Mill'. Snape always has old Licorus and The Baron watching us like hawks when he goes away."

"Stop worrying, Trace; we'll be fine. Anyway, it's the Merlin's Day Festival the day after tomorrow. We'll enjoy that first and figure out the rest later."

Tracey acquiesced, as people generally did with Millicent. A second later, she forgot her concerns and was sniggering.

"I'm sure Dumbledore was telling him off! Snape went all quiet and didn't know what to say. Do you suppose he got drunk in Hogsmeade during the holidays?!"

The two girls laughed at the thought of their strict head of house himself receiving a dressing down from Dumbledore. But had Tracey Davis stayed longer in the cupboard, she'd have heard a lot more than vague hints at housemasterly indiscretions.

oOo

Snape's study

"I understand you wish to keep him away, but the others?"

Is he genuinely concerned or fishing, wondered Severus. Either way, he wouldn't be sharing his suspicions with Albus.

"Cornelius won't be happy when he hears of it. He's rather pleased about this new holiday he's instigated."

"Fudge is hardly likely to hear about it; he'll be too busy down in London mugging for The Daily Prophet's photographer." Said Snape.

"Perhaps so. But there'll be plenty of ministry representation in Hogsmeade. And quite a few of those are parents of your students."

Snape knew that, hence the plan.

"Still, it's a harsh punishment. Don't you think, Severus? The whole school is excited at the prospect of a two-day festival in Hogsmeade; you can't expect them to understand."

Snape decided he'd heard quite enough of Albus' faux concern for his Slytherins. He brought the conversation to a close.

"Headmaster, they all know the rules. If they choose to transgress, they must accept any sanction I deem fit."

oOo

Later that day, Slytherin corridor

Draco Malfoy and fifth-year Philip Aitcheson came to an abrupt halt when they saw the group of Slytherins leaning against the stone door, or slumped on the ground. Obviously their head of house was performing one of his regular, unannounced checks on the boys' dorms for contraband goods. Not that the girls were angels by any means, but the smuggling of proscribed goods into Hogwarts did seem to be a peculiarly male obsession. In particular, an obsession of the middle years - first and second-years generally being too timid, and the upper years too sensible, or chastened from previous run-ins with Snape.

Draco and Philip both did a mental audit of what was shoved in their bedside cabinets and wardrobes. Deciding that all items would pass the Snape test, they turned their gaze onto their housemates and saw a range of reactions from bored to mildly anxious, smug to squirming. Third-year Hugo Lampeter, in particular, was worrying the end of his tie so much it was about to turn into a tassel.

"Hugo, old chap!" Grinned Philip, "Anything to declare?!"

"No! Yes … no … oh, bloody hell! Just some magazines …"

The boys guffawed deeply and spoke in oddly gruff voices about how they themselves were ardent admirers of the female form and that such publications were truly not smut at all, but art. The girls rolled their eyes and stood around looking like disappointed mothers.

"Wankers!" Said Millicent to Tracey.

"Quite literally!" Replied Tracey.

"Ewww! What a yucky thought. Imagine the mess …" Pansy looked ready to vomit.

Word spread along the Slytherin grapevine that Snape was going through the dorms with a fine-toothed comb. And, just like criminals who cannot stop driving past the scene of the crime, nervous Snakes were massing outside the locked door. Harry Potter rounded the corner with Pucey and fell in next to Millicent, who was impatiently tapping her foot.

"I wish Snape would get a bleeding move on; I'm about to wet myself!"

"There's a few people here look like they're about to wet themselves!" Scoffed Harry.

"Yeah well unlike them I don't have cigarettes, girly magazines or half a drinks cabinet stashed under my bed - I just drank too much frigging pumpkin juice!"

"Pfft! Under the mattress - an amateur move!"

Adrian Pucey preened like a long-haired Burmese who'd got all the cream.

"You didn't bring anything dodgy from home, did you?" Millicent asked Harry.

She didn't bother asking Pucey; he quite obviously had. Harry shook his head. What would he smuggle in? Some spare dusters? A pair of triple XL hand-me-down pants from Dudley? No, he felt quite safe and leant back on the wall to watch the show.

Slumped forms straightened and fearful or smug faces fought to adopt a mien of polite enquiry; Snape had opened the door.

"Inside and on the steps, all of you."

The housemaster waited less than patiently for Millicent and a few others to make urgent lavatory trips, and then stood, hands clasped behind his back. After an achingly slow minute, he threw in a doleful shake of his head.

"You know who you are and, more importantly, I know who you are. So … after we have finished here, would the owners of the following items kindly make their way to my office where you will line up in an orderly fashion."

Severus set to listing the items he'd found.

"Several distasteful magazines … a pack of extremely lewd playing cards … a slingshot … a bottle of vermouth … three packets of cigarettes … a bottle of brandy … and a copy of The Kama Sutra - yes Mr Pucey, I did find that loose wall panel. Oh, and the fool who smuggled in ginger ale will also see me. No, it isn't alcoholic but as I found it under a loose floorboard, you clearly thought it was. Intent is everything. And before the whole sorry business starts, let me issue a warning; any claims of 'but I've never seen it before, sir' and 'my little sister must have slipped it into my trunk, sir' will only increase my ire. Do I make myself plain?"

"Yes, sir." Chorused the Slytherins.

"Very well. Do the right thing and don't make me come and fetch you; you won't like the result."

oOo

Slytherin Common Room

"The Kama Sutra?! Who do you think you are?!" Snorted Latimer at Pucey.

"Who do I think I am? A very agile young fellow, that's who!" Quipped Pucey.

He then double-checked that Snape had indeed left.

"I'm not worried about Snape; I could take triple whatever he gives me and not bat an eye." He fibbed. "It's the ladies I feel sorry for; they're the ones that are really going to miss out …"

"Oh please! Someone shut him up! I'm about to puke all over this sofa!" Complained Sophie Blishwick.

"Come on, Pucey." Said resident tobacconist Blaise Zabini, "If you're really not worried about Snape, you can be at the head of the queue."

"I'd be honoured!" Bluffed Pucey.

oOo

Snape's study

Snape held the copy of the Kama Sutra by its very tip. His other hand grasped the neck of a bottle of cognac. The look on his face suggested both items had been recently salvaged from a septic tank. The Kama Sutra was given a delicate rustle.

"Really Mr Pucey, I cannot decide if you are insatiable, or merely hopeful."

It was one thing to boast in the confines of the common room, but quite another while stood on your housemaster's carpet. Pucey flushed at Snape's words and decided that when you're in an embarrassing fix, the only thing for it was to abandon all bluster and speak honestly.

"The latter - unfortunately. But, Merlin sir! Have you seen some of the girls since they came back after Christmas? They're gorgeous!"

Snape understood; he'd been that age himself. But he had standards to uphold, and another agenda with the always-affable, if hormonally-charged, Pucey.

"Pucey, you are sixteen. You think it will never happen, but it will. After you are out of Slytherin, I might add. Now you might well be the least responsible prefect Hogwarts has ever seen, but you are a prefect. As such, you will not be bandying about such material. And you most certainly will not be consuming brandy. I warn you now that if you ever attempt to ply one of your deluded female admirers with alcohol …"

"I wouldn't do that! Honestly sir, I wouldn't!"

Snape looked at him carefully. Irreverent and heedless at times, yet at Pucey's core was decency. In this boy's case, the apple had fallen very far from the tree.

"No, I don't believe you would. But you will keep your dubious personal library at home and stop filching your father's brandy - otherwise it's the cane."

Pucey nodded sombrely. He couldn't be cocky about being caned; he'd once seen Marcus Flint return from a caning after Snape had caught him bullying. If a pain-impervious Neanderthal like Flint was blubbering, he had no chance. Flint never bullied another Slytherin, but Pucey decided then and there to stop the pretence he was a brandy-swilling Lothario before Snape deemed it necessary to stripe him. His housemaster's tone changed.

"Listen to me. You don't have a taste for alcohol, or that bottle's seal wouldn't still be in tact. And though you're interested in girls, you're not yet ready to pleasure multiple women whilst standing on your head …"

Pucey snorted at that, and his cheekiness returned.

"You must have worked through the whole book, sir! I'm only up to chapter three - sideways with both hands grasping the girl's …"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Growled Severus before he turned to hide his smile. "Merlin help me, but I need you this term, Pucey. I want your mind out of the gutter and focusing on your housemates …"

"Is it that business with …"

"Yes, it is. Speak only to me and the other prefects. No one else."

"But what do I do?"

"You observe. Carry on being your usual self; I want no suspicions aroused. But keep your eyes open. I'll know what to ask you."

Snape turned and went to sit at his desk. Pucey was confused - and a little hopeful.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"That's all, Pucey. Send in the next cretin."

oOo

Slytherin Common Room

The line of cretins outside Snape's door wasn't getting as much attention as it normally would for the simple reason that the Snakes had better things to discuss, namely the Merlin's Day Festival. Genuine excitement was building and it seemed just too mean-spirited - even to the likes of Malfoy - to stop discussing the festival only to take pleasure in others' misfortune. Really, they were just glad that the dopes had been caught now. Snape would deal with matters swiftly. It would be water under the bridge tomorrow and they could all look forward to having a hoot in Hogsmeade.

The Slytherins weren't fooled at all by Cornelius Fudge's newly-created holiday. For a start, many of them had parents working high up in the Ministry of Magic and so had heard he'd bribed a junior clerk to 'discover' proof positive that Merlin was born at midnight, February 1st. The Quibbler's sporadic articles on the return of Voldemort were beginning to gain traction and alarm people. The two-day holiday straddling the last day of January and the first day of February was a cynical ruse to garner support from the wizarding masses and draw attention away from Xenophilius Lovegood and his witterings.

The Snakes quelled any nascent alarm they might have felt as to Fudge's true purpose; what could they do anyway? They knew everyone would be obliged to listen to a hefty dose of dull speeches spruiking the sterling job the Ministry was doing. That could be a bit awkward given it may involve one or more Slytherin parents, but they focussed instead on the pleasure ground that Hogsmeade was set to become. Amongst many attractions, there'd be free sweets from Honeydukes, fairground rides outside Dervish and Banges and, best of all, a music festival in the gardens of The Hog's Head with The Weird Sisters returning to headline.

"It's gonna be bloody brilliant!" Declared Latimer.

oOo

Harry was the first to see Pucey return and so won the race to call out 'Have a seat!'

"Oh, you're fitting in here far too well, Potter! However, this time you're wrong!"

"Ha, Potter! You're an idiot!" Said Malfoy, "Wait! What?!"

"Absolutely nothing! Zippo! Zilch!" Confirmed Pucey.

"Bottle of brandy and a randy book and Snape does nothing? Odd." Said Montague.

"Who cares about that? Eight people caught! Eight! Did anyone get away with anything?!" Pouted Pansy.

"That would be telling …" Said Draco, attempting to look and sound enigmatic.

"That would be 'no' then." Millicent said.

"Sodding hell, Millicent! You aren't half a downer; I might have got away with something!"

"'Might have', 'could have' … haven't." Tracey said emphatically, and Malfoy added her to his list of people to glower at.

"Have a seat!"

Zabini had just walked through the door.

"How many?" Theo asked Blaise.

"A big, fat zero!"

"Even odder." Said Montague.

Zabini was a little put out that no one seemed relieved at Snape's largesse of spirit.

"No need to thank me for keeping mum about who helped smoke the ciggies …" He grumbled.

"Thanks, Zabini." Said Crabbe, Nott, Malfoy, Millicent and Pansy.

Mollified, Zabini dropped his prickliness. "Now, what are we all talking about?"

"Merlin's Day Festival." Reported Bletchley, "I'm getting there early with Jordan and Davies; we want to be at the front when the Weird Sisters come on."

"We're going straight to Honeydukes." Added Malcolm and Archie.

"You do that." Said Miles, "And see if you can snag me some Jelly Slugs, would you?"

"The Weird Sisters are well-overrated." Argued Urquhart, "Some old blokes with eye-liner on?! And they dance like my grandma after she's necked too much fire whisky!"

"Urquhart?" Sniffed AB, "We know your family's not from Pureblood stock, but do you have to be so relentlessly proud of their uncouthness?!"

But AB was joking and he and Urquhart fell into trading friendly barbs, until Gregory Goyle announced he agreed with Urquhart. Goyle said he'd be giving the music a miss and concentrating his efforts on getting served in The Hog's Head.

"Come on! We've got to try it. Snape isn't even going; Hildy Brand told me. None of the heads of house are going. It's going to be Grubbly-Plank, Burbage, Sinistra, Vector and Hooch that are watching everyone."

"And on that note, I'm off!" Said AB, "I didn't hear anything about any plans to go to the pub. But if you think Hooch is a push-over, you're insane!"

Harry watched the head prefect walk off followed by his coterie of admirers, mostly girls from the first and second years. He looked around the room with its animated groups working out how to make the most of this unexpected holiday, and thought back to the gloominess at the start of term. AB had been right; once that first dismal week was over, things had quickly got back on track. Bit of bother with Snape the other week but nothing to get upset over. In a way it had been worth it; it had been great having everyone rallying around trying to cover for Malfoy and himself. Shame they'd copped it too, though that did seem to be par for the course in Snape's house. It had been over a week and Millicent hadn't bawled him out, and Pansy was yet to ridicule him in public. In fact, Sour Chops was cosying up to him. No doubt she wanted something; probably his dad's cloak so she could sneak backstage and get her photo taken by The Daily Prophet with all the bands, or something equally prima donna-ish.

Life was good. Four weeks before he diced with death in the next tournament task, everyone getting on - even with people from other houses, Malfoy not being a colossal pain in the arse, a day off classes on Friday and two days of fun in Hogsmeade. Life was definitely good. He had no idea what he'd been thinking over the Christmas holidays; maybe Malfoy had slipped something into the punch bowl at the Yule Ball? Yeah, that must have been it. Typical bloody Malfoy trick.

"Have a seat!"

Gregory Goyle smirked at his housemates, lifted Tory Greengrass from the sofa and sat down next to Pansy, squeezing Tory in beside him. He confirmed that Snape had not meted out his usual justice before getting himself up to speed with the group, in particular, Goyle's Hogs Head plan. Teddy Wilkinson, purveyor of lewd playing cards, was greeted back into the common room.

"Have a seat!"

"No! Nothing! Honestly!" Said Teddy.

"This is more than odd." Said Montague, "That's the second time he's been caught with those cards. Something's up."

Third-year Arno Van Den Berg, importer of 100% proof ginger ale, came bounding into the common room with a grin on his face. People finally began to take note of Montague's warnings.

Two minutes later, Snape swept into the room and people rose warily from their seats.

"I have a bad feeling." Whispered Malfoy.

Harry, and everyone else, was minded to agree with him.

"Seven people and one fool," Snape shot a look at Van Den Berg, "have been caught bringing illicit goods into the school. However, I am well aware that these items were intended for sharing. Indeed, I am inclined to believe that the people who sat back and did nothing are guiltier than those caught. You ensured you took no risk, yet you'd have been perfectly willing to share in the spoils. As this is merely one of a long line of attempts at smuggling contraband and as I cannot be certain who would have been involved in the sharing of said contraband, I have no choice but to punish you all severely. No one from Slytherin House will be attending the Merlin's Day Festival."

Snape stood silently and let his eyes roam the room, daring anyone to raise an objection. No one did, but they were all thinking the same thing; Snape never does this. He's hard on us but he's always fair. Now he's treating us like he treats the bloody Gryffindors. The housemaster turned to leave and seventy-one pairs of eyes narrowed at his retreating back.

oOo

Severus hadn't felt so unsure of himself since July, 1981. He'd left the room without being questioned. Malfoy, Mayhew or Parkinson throwing a fit he could have coped with, but had Armitage-Brown, Blishwick or even Bulstrode raised an objection, he wasn't certain he wouldn't have backtracked. The sight of his office door and the lonely sanctuary that lay within held no charm for him that afternoon. He needed to talk.

oOo

Minerva McGonagall's rooms

"Who needs a drink?"

He snarled the words as he slammed down Pucey Senior's cognac on Minerva's walnut table.

"Well, you do. Quite obviously." She snapped.

The old witch snatched up the bottle and inspected for marks on the wood. There were none, though she made a point of pulling a handful of skirt and giving the table a furious buff regardless. Content with the shine, she examined the bottle still in her left hand.

"Oh, my! Has Albus given you a pay rise?!"

"Adrian Pucey, loose wall panelling, stairwell to the prefect dorms. From his father's cellar, presumably."

"Stealing contraband again?!"

"Tell me Minerva, what do you suppose he'd do to his son if I sent the bottle back with an explanatory note?"

That unpleasant thought mitigated the concerns of even this upstanding Presbyterian minister's daughter. She went to the drinks cabinet and pulled out two brandy balloons that had once belonged to her mother.

oOo

"But they're beginning to get along; that's what you wanted! I know for a fact that Lee Jordan is going to watch that, oh what's the name of that raucous group who played here at Christmas?"

"Weird Sisters." Supplied Snape.

"Yes, that's it. Jordan is going with Bletchley from your house, and Roger Davies from Ravenclaw."

He wasn't surprised. More and more on his visits to the common room, he heard the names of other house members mentioned - and not in the dismissive manner of before. It did trouble him, though. Before the Yule Ball, he'd tacitly challenged his house to forget the old enmities and join in with the other houses and for the most part, they'd met that challenge. Of course, Armitage-Brown seemed to have been linked to that drippy Hufflepuff, Cecily something-or-other, since he was in his fourth year. And Pucey had always fraternized with other houses; there weren't enough females within Slytherin for him. But now Zabini, Urquhart and Bletchley had joined him. Millicent Bulstrode was often up to something in Ravenclaw; Snape had no idea what. Following the ball, Tracey Davis had boys of every hue cueing up to speak to her at mealtimes. Goyle had maintained his friendship with Hildegard Brand, poor girl. And as time went on, the hurt and isolation his Snakes had cloaked themselves in appeared to be falling away.

And now this. No Merlin's Day Festival for any of them - and all over little more than some contraband hooch, the odd dirty magazine and a few smokes. At least, that's what his students would think. This should have been a time when their efforts to forge new friendships would pay off. Instead they'd be confined to the castle while all the others had fun. He knew he was stricter than any other head of house and so did his students, yet they accepted it. Of course, they tried to break, bend and twiddle with the rules; that's what students did. However, when they were caught, they took his correction on the chin and moved on - with the possible exception of Pansy. But this? They'd think he was using a sledgehammer to crack a nut, and he couldn't blame them.

"I know." Snape replied to Minerva, "But there'll be other times for them to get together."

"What they did was wrong, but could you not have turned a blind eye until after the holiday was over?" Asked McGonagall.

He'd known about the banned items from the first day back at school; the smuggling was a regular event in Slytherin. But he'd also been given the heads-up from Jasper Flint about Cornelius' ridiculous new holiday and the fact that Death Eater ministry officials would be sent to Hogsmeade to act as an official presence. So he'd kept the dormitory sweep up his sleeve to use at a propitious time.

Given the staggeringly inept search Claude and Audrey Delingpole were mounting for the missing Mirror of Merlin, Snape had set to pondering. If the mirror couldn't be found and destroyed, then Archie would be taken. He'd be kidnapped until the mirror was paid as ransom - and then killed. Snape knew the Death Eater mind. There were Death Eaters in the ministry, but what of the unknowns, those that dwelt in the shadows? An easy task for one of them to pass unnoticed in Hogsmeade, the place would be teaming with visitors.

"No." Snape answered Minerva, "It had to be now."

She waited a few moments to see if he'd expand on that, but he didn't.

"Did you need to punish all of them? Not every student brought in cigarettes and alcohol, did they?"

That question stung. Snape loathed teachers who punished the many for the actions of the few. It was a lazy and harmful abrogation of duty that led to division and reprisals by aggrieved students. On the rare occasion Slughorn had been forced to discipline his house, it had been his chosen method. The true punishment had never been the loss of privileges or freedom. It had been the rancour and hateful looks and, once all adults had left, the escalation to hexing and fighting. Mob justice wasn't a pretty thing, but it had been the only rule of law in Slytherin House before Severus had clamped down in '82.

True, it was only one instance, yet he worried about sowing the seeds for a return to that. Then again, what could he do? A Slytherin parent would come for Archie; he felt sure of it. He'd narrowed down his list of suspects; the behaviour of his Snakes after being with their parents told him which ones were evil. Maybe more were, just evil and cleverer? He had his suspicions and had confided them to Karkaroff, but he couldn't be certain.

"It needs to be all of them."

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"Maybe some other time."

"So no, then." Confirmed Minerva, "Trying to help you is harder than trying to help a fourth-year that's just been ditched by his girlfriend. You're either silent, or you argue with everything."

"I do not!" Exclaimed Snape.

She was just about to claim that that proved her point - until she saw the faint smirk on his face.

"Oh very clever, but you need to confide in someone."

"You know, Minerva, in my formative years I became accustomed to being shunned and not listened to. It's a hard habit to break."

"I cannot keep apologising, Severus. And you cannot keep holding a grudge."

"Perhaps you're right. But let me keep doing it a little longer."

"Why?"

"Because it's so enjoyable!"

He was trying to make light of things but his smile did nothing to hide the painful doubt that showed in his eyes; Minerva saw that. However, Severus couldn't be compelled to speak. He was right; he'd been forced into self-sufficiency too young and now it was part of him.

"You're a fine head of house, Severus, else you wouldn't be upset by this - and no, don't bother to deny you're upset. You'll work things out." Minerva assured. "All the same, those students of yours are going to be extremely unhappy; you know that, don't you?"

If he didn't know it then, he was about to find out.