The day started off just like any mid-February day at Hogwarts usually did - with snow.
Severus half expected to be hit by a snowball all the way down to the greenhouses and all the way up again after Professor Sprout had informed him that due to night frost and a highly infectious peduncle flu the greenhouses would be closed all week.
'Unpleasant,' she had informed him, 'but I cannot help it. Do inform your fellow classmates on your way up to the castle, will you?'
Severus, however, presumed that a little relaxing (if futile) walk in the chill was just the thing his fellow students needed, especially since none of them seemed particularly interested as to why he was walking away from the greenhouses in the first place. Also, Severus was still instinctively waiting for the obligatory snowball to meet his neck, preparing inwardly to try his newly acquired hexing skills (Lucius was still teaching him every now and then) on the first person to dare an assault.
But no one threw anything. Instead, Severus noticed, a group of grown-up witches and wizards (not teachers) had arrived at the bottom of the stairs that lead from the playground outside to the corridor in front of the hospital wing. Some of them were carrying papers under their arms, and two or three were wearing the red uniform of Azkaban's Aurors and the border's soldiers. With some relief Severus found that his father was not among them.
One of the wizards, a person he remembered from only a single, very unpleasant encounter, was walking up and down impatiently, as if waiting for something - or someone, Severus thought. He had crept carefully behind one of the rose bushes near by to get a closer look at the strange group of people, trying to make out their expressions and, perhaps, catch a few bits of conversation.
The one he had recognised was still pacing up and down impatiently, halting briefly in front of one of the younger witches, then started walking again. His expression was as dark as ever, and only when one of the Aurors placed his hand on his shoulder did he seem capable of controlling his impatience enough to stop and turn around.
'Alastor. I am not in the mood for one of your lectures.'
'I am not going to lecture you, Fumes,' said the growling voice of the Auror he had addressed as Alastor. 'You are getting on my nerves.'
Fumes's expression changed slightly. 'Giving you your due,' he remarked grumpily. 'You tend to speak what is inside your head. Still...' he hesitated for a moment, 'I am not in the mood for criticism.'
He turned.
'Minerva is as important to any of us as she is to you,' remarked one of the other two Aurors dryly. 'Come off it, Alexander. Before we haven't spoken to Dumbledore there is no reason for fussing.'
'I am not fussing!' snapped Fumes, now turning to the other man, whose face was not clearly visible to Severus from his hiding place. 'Don't you dare give me orders, man.'
There was some mumbling. And a growl. No one replied, however.
'The question for me,' said the Auror called Alastor after a short while quietly, 'is - who would dare poison Dumbledore's Deputy Headmistress right under his nose? A member of staff? Unlikely. A student? But the sixth formers have nothing to lose. They don't gain anything by poisoning their Transfiguration teacher right before their finals. Also, Minerva is said to be very fair, especially among the older ones.'
'Been investigating, have you?' said his fellow Auror cheerfully, clapping his shoulder. Alastor grinned.
'Gotta show that I'm worth my money,' he remarked dryly. 'What with all those changes... who knows if there'll be any Aurors in a few years time.'
'I don't think the Ministry is going to cut us off,' said the third Auror with a twanging voice Severus instantly recognised as belonging to the Malfoy family. 'That would be insane. Who would want to be responsible for getting rid of the community's only constabulary force?'
'They are talking about placing Dementors on all entrances of the wizarding prison,' said Alastor darkly. 'It is only a matter of time until they replace all of us by those... creatures. However, I doubt they will make them do our entire work. Or can you imagine a Dementor hunting down criminals?'
'I don't find the thought too absurd,' remarked one of the witches who was wearing an emerald green set of robes and a bun not unlike Professor McGonagall's. 'Seeing as some of them have agreed to support the Ministry in matters very similar to criminal hunting already.'
She pronounced the word criminal as if it was something she desired to see erased from the English word pool. Severus got the feeling that she was somehow related to Professor McGonagall, noticing that she had the same set of dark eyebrows and the same stern, somewhat impatient voice when talking to the men before her. The taller one, Alastor, gave her an odd look, then his dark lips curled into a rough smile. 'Too true,' he said merely.
'Talking about criminals,' continued the McGonagall witch. 'Have you got any further with your prosecution of the Knights?'
'Mrs. McGillivray,' said the Malfoy slowly, placing his fingertips against each other in an effort to produce a restrainedly impatient though dignified gesture. 'I do believe we have spoken about the confidentiality of the information the commissioner entrusted you with?'
'Naturally, naturally,' said the witch earnestly, though apparently unconcerned. Severus pondered for a moment where he had heard the name McGillivray before, then gave up on the matter as the Auror said,
'But I appreciate your concern, of course. I understand that you have relatives among the victims of that pub incident?'
'A close friend,' replied the witch. 'However little reason Minerva seems to have in this matter, I still see Topaz McGonagall as a family member almost, rather like some unpleasant event of the past.'
'Minerva is rather disinclined to speak with him these days?' enquired the third Auror.
'Oh, I am sure she would have visited him in hospital had not this... unfortunate accident happened just now,' said Mrs. McGillivray sourly. 'By the way, I do wish Dumbledore had at least an ounce of politeness about him. It is freezing and I haven't got all day.'
'You are free to get inside,' remarked the taller Auror. 'It will be warmer in one of the empty classrooms.'
'Go to a Hogwarts classroom?' said the woman's voice. 'Most certainly not. I have had the displeasure for seven long years, thank you very much.'
Some people laughed. The tall Auror turned slightly, his face now fully disappearing from Severus's view, and ruffled up the hair on the back of his head in a gesture that seemed painfully familiar, although Severus needed a moment before he remembered where he knew it from.
Suddenly, the doors to the playground opened and a number of second-year students stormed into the morning chill, not seeming to feel much of the coldness. Two of them separated from the group almost instantly, though, hurrying towards the small group of grown-ups in typical Gryffindor eagerness, not seeing Severus behind his rose bush.
'Dad!'
'James.'
He had been right. It was hard to miss, too.
'Dad, guess what's just happened!'
'I am sure you'll tell me in a minute.'
'Professor Binns is dead!'
There was an instant silence spreading over the group of grown-ups and all heads turned towards James Potter and Remus Lupin, the latter of whom stood around with a rather subdued expression on his face, seeming less excited than his best friend.
Mr. Potter stared at his son for a short, shocked moment, then grabbed his son's shoulders, hard and kneeled down to him, his expression displaying shock and disbelief.
'James. What are you saying?'
'It is true,' said Lupin with a small voice. 'He is dead. And then again, he's not. Cause... well... I don't think he's realised what happened. He just entered the class as usual and started teaching and... and... well, we didn't want to say anything, but... well... Lily thought it wouldn't be nice not to let him know, so... well... she'
'What do you mean he did not realise what happened?' came the growling voice of the Auror called Alastor from the back. 'What have you seen?'
'Well, he sort of... he's...'
'He's a ghost,' said James, grinning. 'That's awesome. Dad, I wanna be a ghost when I'm dead. Can I be a ghost, too?'
Severus rolled his eyes. Mr. Potter, on the other hand, seemed suddenly worried beyond belief.
'Can you bring us to him?' he said, still kneeling before his son. 'Where is he now?'
'Dunno,' said James vaguely. 'I'm not sure, but I think he's teaching fifth years after the break, so perhaps he'll be back for that.'
The other wizards and witches, in the meantime, had started chatting avidly, some of them clearly more upset than others. One of the older wizards, wearing a beard not unlike Dumbledore's, who carried a heap of books and papers in both hands, hesitated for a moment, then started walking towards the direction out of which Potter, Lupin, and the other Gryffindors had just stormed out.
'Hamish!' cried Mrs. McGillivray eagerly. 'Where on earth are you going?'
But the wizard did not reply. Several of the others, still in doubt, finally resolved to pursue their friend and eventually the largest part of the group walked towards the castle in more or less hurried steps.
Severus, on the other hand, remained patiently behind his rose bush, curious to hear whether Potter and Lupin would be telling their friends from the other houses what exactly had happened.
