The door of Dumbledore's office was made of oak, with a little brass knob on one side and a number of rivets and ornaments on the semicircular framework above the actual entrance. Among the ornaments, there were little glyphs and an inscription consisting of ancient Anglo-Saxon runes with the occasional Latin comma.
Today's visitor raised an eyebrow, stared at the inscription for another while, trying to see whether he had deciphered the runes quite correctly, then knocked. This was, without a doubt, the headmaster's very personal... ah... improved version of the old Quid Quid Agas Prudenter Agas - Whatever you do, do it to the best of your ability. Dippet had been an interesting man. Very interesting indeed.
'Yes?' said a voice from inside and Lance Snape entered a room that had changed much since last he had seen it.
'Good evening, Professor Dumbledore,' he said, hearing his dark voice reverberate from the walls and a number of oddly shaped objects on shelves everywhere. 'I hope this is not inconvenient.'
'Oh, oh no,' said Dumbledore quickly, shoving a few pieces of parchment aside as he stood up behind his desk. 'I asked to see you, didn't I?'
'I am early,' the soldier informed him. 'The floo network is improving.'
'Indeed, it is,' smiled Dumbledore, offering him a working man's hand. It had gone all wrinkly, Lance noted, but it wasn't trembling. Dumbledore was, as yet, not an old man. 'It has been a while. Do sit down, will you...' The headmaster thought for a while. 'Assistant Commissioner, I believe?'
'Lieutenant,' said the Snape. 'There is not much use for Commissioners down in M'bwa.'
'There you have the subtle differences between guards and soldiers, which I have never quite been able to understand,' smiled Dumbledore. 'So you are making your way in the wizarding army now. You moved, did you? Down to M'bwa? A hard choice, surely, what with your wife and son still up in London...'
'My son is at Hogwarts,' replied Lance somewhat coldly. 'And my wife, I believe, is a grown-up person, quite capable of looking after herself every once in a while.'
'Meaning she is better these days?' said Dumbledore hopefully.
'Yes,' said the soldier, careful to let his tone end the topic.
'I have been wanting to discuss something with you,' said the headmaster now, his eyes directed at a shelf behind the soldier, assuming a rather thoughtful expression. 'I...' He frowned. 'I cannot seem to remember what it was, but it was certainly important, or it would not have stuck...'
'The political situation,' said Lance helpfully. 'The war?'
'Yes... No!' said Dumbledore quickly. 'Well, yes, obviously. But... there was something else of which I was just reminded...'
He kept thinking for some more minutes, while Lance sat on his chair, very still, watching the headmaster's every movement.
'I might remember later on,' said the older wizard after a while. 'I have, of course, asked for this appointment to discuss political matters with you.'
Lance gave him an apprehending nod. He had anticipated this.
'I am sure you have heard about the decisions some people have made in recent weeks,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'Good ones... and bad ones.'
'I heard about young Umbridge being captured,' said Lance grimly. 'I haven't come round to question him personally, but Commander Robertson assures me that there was indeed an Unforgivable Curse involved. Meaning that Umbrige will probably remain up there for a while. Possibly a long one.'
'Commander Robertson?' said Dumbledore raising his eyebrows. 'Why... I was under the impression that this is the very person I gave the Potions position to at the beginning of the -...'
'His brother,' said Lance quickly. 'The whole family has been in the army for centuries. Very reputable name, Robertson.'
'I believe he is closely related to the McGonagalls?'
'McGillivrays, in fact,' replied the soldier. 'Minerva's family, not Topaz's. The very part of the family that emigrated to the Black Forest at the beginning of the last century.'
'I didn't know there was such a part.'
'Few people do. But I believe Commander Robertson's return to the British Isles has been causing a lot of trouble within the family, Professor. Hamish McGillivray tells me he has been through a lot lately, especially concerning his daughter.'
'Yes, she seemed slightly distressed,' muttered Dumbledore. 'But hardly anyone is unaffected by the current political situation, I daresay.'
Lance snorted. 'You can hardly call it a political situation,' he said. 'It is just a bit of a turmoil, really, caused by a bunch of incorrigible adolescents, trying to turn our world upside down - for the mere entertainment of it.'
'And yet, these "incorrigible adolescents" as you like to put it, seem to provide a danger for our world even I have not foreseen,' replied the headmaster thoughtfully.
'You mean Lestrange's insane requirements in front of the assembled ministry last week and his poorly conceived ideas of re-installing a purocracy within a few months' time? How far do you think he'll get with that?'
'I believe that many young wizards and witches are more than prepared to listen whenever someone tells them to smite their enemies and make the world their own,' said Dumbledore as quietly as before. 'And I also believe that not many of them are aware of who this enemy actually is.'
'I believe that not many of them are aware that, if they actually dare any childish attempt of overthrowing the Ministry of Magic, there is an army standing behind our current rulers that will enforce disciplined behaviour by all means!'
Dumbledore smiled carefully. 'You are aware that we are not talking merely about a bunch of first-year students gone wild here, aren't you?' he said, folding his hands under his chin. 'These are the voices of young adults. Voices that must be heard.'
'Voices?' snapped Lance, feeling slightly indignant. 'But they are not negotiating. They don't seem to have any discernible demands.'
'Yes, they do,' said the headmaster, not moving as he spoke. 'I have asked several of them and they seem to be very clear about what they want to change within the Ministry and our society.'
'Well, I know about those demands,' said the soldier sourly. 'Ridiculous ideas of how the world could be like if it weren't for the Muggles. Unfortunately, though,' he attempted a smile, sure that he would end up smirking, 'there is no such thing as a Muggle-free world. Which will have to do for them.'
'I rather think a world without Muggles would be half as entertaining and surely not as full of astonishing gadgets,' said Professor Dumbledore, a twinkle in one eye.
'No need to twinkle at me,' said Lance coldly. 'I am fully aware that you think this way, and you are fully aware that I don't. But you also know that I will yield to whatever the elected Minister for Magic's course might be, whereas I seem to remember you being a fair opponent.'
'I am not your opponent, Lance.'
'No, you are more. You are not a politician, which is what makes you incalculable for most and dangerous for all, but you are meddlesome. That is what makes you useful. In a game of chess you would be the unknown factor. Everyone would want you on their side.'
'Do you want me on your side, Lance?'
'I don't want you on the other,' said the Snape coldly.
There was a short silence.
'So,' said Dumbledore after a while. 'You do not believe that the Lestrange brothers could be a threat to anyone because they are too young?'
'Because they are inexperienced,' replied Lance. 'And because they do not have a clear vision. They are not... organised.'
He used the word carefully and with feel. Dumbledore smiled.
'We need to have another game of chess again some time. You used to be an excellent player.'
'Well, I was a student with too much time at hand,' said Lance coldly, mystified by the new direction the headmaster's thoughts were taking. 'But what...'
'I seem to remember beating you several times because you underestimated the importance of a pawn,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'It is a detail that just suddenly came to my mind again.'
On his way down to the lower levels of the castle almost two hours later, Lance considered going all the way down to Hogsmeade to have a quick look around the old shops and houses before returning to Camden. He reflected that a quick visit at old Shacklebolt's bookstore was, in fact, always worth an excursion, even if this mean that he would possibly not be home before nightfall. And possibly, he could use the store's fireplace for his return, instead of walking up to the castle again afterwards.
He stopped and considered for a while whether the fireplace was actually big enough for a seven foot man to use for travelling, decided, after some time, that it might just work, and continued walking down Hogwarts's endless stairs, not quite concentrating on where he was going.
There were disadvantages, he decided, not only to living in a household that had to be protected by various anti-apparating enchantments, but also, sometimes, to being one of the largest people around. For some things...
He turned around another corner and realised that he had lost his way. How thick could you get? Seven years of Hogwarts, sixty years of age, and he was not capable of finding his way around in this blasted castle. Apparently.
Another corner, and he realised that he was standing in front of the Gryffindor common room. A large portrait showing a fat woman in a pink dress blinked at him tiredly, having just taken a late afternoon nap - apparently.
'Password?'
'Oh, don't mind me,' said Lance coldly. 'I merely got lost in these endlessly interlaced corridors.'
'Typical,' muttered the lady, closing her eyes again. 'I remember you. Never been of the brightest sort, have you? Always pushing people around?'
'And I remember,' said Lance sourly, 'that pictures can quite effectively be sliced with a silver knife. Which I happen to have here in my pocket day and night. Would you care to see it?'
The Fat Lady opened her eyes again, giving him an appalled look.
'Is that a threat?' she said sharply.
'No,' said Lance, 'a contribution to your general knowledge.'
And he descended the same staircase from which he had come, knowing which way to turn now, having visited Gryffindor house countless times in the early years, in relation to a certain of its female inhabitants. He smirked.
Next he knew was that the corridors were filled with students. Prep time was over and people were heading for the Great Hall to have dinner.
The students (second- and third-years mostly) gave him curious glances as they were passing him, hurrying up and down staircases like ants in their hill. He was used to this, of course. People tended to note his presence, and that was as it should be.
He gave one or two third-years acknowledging looks, shooing others off with a mere glance. Then, suddenly, a familiar shape passed him from behind, descending the staircase at top speed. More of habit than anything, his hand shot out to grab the small boy's collar and lifted him a few feet into the air to look into his eyes.
'Severus,' he said. Finished classes, have you?'
Severus gave him an odd look, glancing at his fellow students beneath him with a nervous grin. There were a few hushed voices and a giggle.
'P-prep time,' he said. 'It's... it's dinner in a few moments.'
'So I seem to remember,' said Lance calmly. 'Your work going well at the moment?'
'Yes, sir,' said Severus quickly, his small ears reddening slightly behind the black bunch of loosening hair.
Lance raised an eyebrow and put him down. 'That, we shall see, of course,' he said. 'When is the end of term?'
'Friday before Christmas,' said Severus timidly. 'The Hogwarts Express is getting to King's Cross at nightfall.'
Lance nodded. 'Very well,' he said. 'Not long until then, I suppose.' He gave his son a light clap on the back, steering him into the direction of the Great Hall. 'Off you go now. I shall be taking this staircase.'
Severus vanished. Lance, on the other hand, finally made his way towards Hogwarts's giant entrance doors, leaving the castle and its grounds with a pensive expression on his face (Severus tended to have this effect on him), nearing Hogsmeade in his usual, swift walk.
