Author's note: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and happy winter to those who don't. I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Please review!

Warnings: Swearing

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Bad News and Worse News

Although he had no desire to be have the entirety of wizarding community out for his blood, angry about the death of their esteemed leader of the Light, Severus was thoroughly tempted to kill Albus Dumbledore. Said leader of the Light acted like he was so interested in keeping Harry Potter safe, but then he went and did things like this.

"Dumbledore." The Potions Master pinched the bridge of his nose. Merlin help me. "There is a mass murderer on the loose, a mass murderer whom we suspect is after Potter. What do you mean he is staying in Diagon Alley for the next three weeks?"

"Diagon Alley is well-populated and well-protected," Dumbledore answered, "and I daresay that Harry may be happier to remain in the wizarding world for the rest of the summer."

"Because god forbid the boy actually have to deal with consequences for once in his life," snarked Severus in reply. "And I hardly think that The Leaky Cauldron counts as 'well-protected.'"

Apparently, Potter had blown up his aunt with "accidental" magic, though Severus wasn't convinced about the "accidental" part. Knowing Potter, he had probably just done it for a lark, and Severus thought that the Dursleys had every right to be upset. But the boy had run away, caught the Knight Bus—an awful method of transportation, that was—had been discovered by Cornelius Fudge, and then told to stay at the inn. Severus wasn't clear whether this had been Dumbledore's brilliant idea, or if it was the Minister's, and Dumbledore simply happened to agree. In any case, it didn't matter. Severus knew that Dumbledore had set up a myriad of special protections on Privet Drive; meanwhile, The Leaky Cauldron had none.

"Tom has agreed to keep an eye on him, and it will be very well-protected with Glamoured and Polyjuiced Order members casually frequenting the premises. I'm sure you will be happy to hear that I did not give you the first shift."

"Yes, I'm so bloody grateful. As a matter of fact, I was wondering what I'd do for the next three weeks with no Potter to babysit. It isn't as though I have potions to brew or lessons to prepare for."

"Sherbet lemon?"

"No."

"While you're here, there are other matters to discuss." The Headmaster unwrapped a candy for himself. "First of all, the Dementors."

Severus's scowl deepened, if that were possible. The Ministry had decided to send Dementors to guard the school against the threat of Sirius Black. Regardless of the fact that Dumbledore had put his foot down when it came to letting the creatures into the school itself, everybody was doubtlessly going to be extra miserable until Black was caught. That was, after all, one of the most powerful effects of Dementors.

"Times are still tense. It is essential that your cover remain intact, that your-"

"Yes, yes, I am well aware," Severus interrupted impatiently, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Just because there will be Dementors around, does not mean I intend to start casting Patronuses every time I go outside. I wasn't born yesterday, thanks."

A truly Dark wizard couldn't conjure a Patronus. Being able to do so didn't serve his political ambiguity.

"Then the second order of business. I will be announcing this at the staff meeting tonight; however, I thought it pertinent to give you forewarning: I have finally tracked down a new Defence teacher." Dumbledore unwrapped another sherbet lemon.

"And what have you found this time?" Severus drawled.

"Remus Lupin."

There was a pause. Then, "And here I was expecting you to tell me you've hired a yeti or a three-armed cannibal"—he let out a humourless laugh—"but no, nothing that dramatic, just some arse who turns into a bloody werewolf once a month."

"Now Severus," Dumbledore reprimanded, peering sternly at the younger man over his half-moon spectacles. "I know that you and Remus have a rocky history, but the past is the past. You are both adults and have the capacity to be mature about this. I do not ask that you become friends, but I would like you to be civilized."

Severus stood abruptly, giving Dumbledore his best glare. "My history with Lupin aside, you must be deluding yourself if you think it is a wise idea to bring that man here when his old cohort has recently escaped Azkaban. How do we know the wolf doesn't have anything to do with it? What has he even been doing since the Potters' deaths?"

"Remus has been living in the muggle world for the past decade," said Dumbledore, calm as ever. "It was actually quite difficult to track him down. I believe that Sirius's betrayal shocked him to the core, and I have every faith that he has nothing to do the escape from Azkaban. Remus was always the most responsible of the friends."

"And Black was always one of Minerva's favourites," Severus said darkly. "Looks can be deceiving."

Dumbledore's voice sharpened slightly. "Enough of this, Severus. You must put old grudges behind you. We need a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Remus was more than happy to take up the opportunity. It will not be as bad as you think, my boy," he added, softening again.

Hmph. Severus didn't feel particularly inclined to respond to that. "Do you have any more wonderful news to impart?"

"Oh yes, I was wondering if you could brew Wolfsbane for Remus."

He slammed the door on his way out.

I hate my life, thought Severus as he took inventory of the school's supply cupboard.

It would have been enough that Black had somehow gotten past the Dementors of Azkaban and was now running around looking to decapitate Potter—"He's at Hogwarts," Black had reportedly been muttering in his sleep—not to mention that the Ministry's solution of setting Dementors upon the school for "protection." But of course, Dumbledore always had to throw some extra special hell into the mix.

What was the muggle saying, "hindsight is 20/20?" That seemed applicable to the whole of Severus's life. A certain fourth-year incident, involving a Whomping Willow and a werewolf, stuck out in his mind. At the time, he had been fascinated by the idea that there was a dangerous beast on the grounds, masquerading as a student, and very interested in catching a glimpse of the wolf.

It horrified him now. He had, objectively, been unusually mature for a child—one did not get much of a childhood in the Snape household—but he certainly hadn't fully understood what it meant to be a werewolf and the possible pitfalls of one attending Hogwarts. As an adult, however, he did understand the full weight of the situation. In addition, his aversion was not helped by the fact that the Dark Lord had been very interested in recruiting werewolves for his own nefarious purposes.

And Dumbledore was letting not only a werewolf teach, but this particular werewolf teach: Lupin, who happened to have been in cahoots with Potter and the recently-escaped mass murderer Sirisu Black—at least Severus wasn't going to be the only faculty member who'd had terrible taste in friends as a student; Lupin, who hadn't been as bad in school as had been Black and Potter senior, but who had been made a Perfect in fifth year—an attempt, Severus supposed now, to keep his friends' antics to a minimum—and done a poor job of exerting any sort of control; Lupin, who had the chance to make some people's lives less miserable, but did nothing; Lupin, who, with his condition, probably shouldn't have been anywhere near a scholastic institution.

Severus snapped shut the notebook he was carrying, now filled with barely-legible, angrily-scrawled notes on what ingredients had to be restocked before the new term.

After the Gilderoy Lockhart fiasco, Severus had thought that Dumbledore couldn't possibly find a worse Defence teacher—a narcissist with a fondness for memory charms was, after all, pretty bad. Turns out, he'd been wrong.

This year was going to be even worse than the last.