Chapter Title: Chapter 4: Behind the Gargoyle
Characters:
Genres:
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: HBP Spoiler
Summary: Harry is thoroughly distracted by McGonagall's request. A visit from Hermione and Ron provides some lively discussion and helps him make his decision. Harry never would have known it would lead to answers to some of the most secretive questions regarding Dumbledore's death, and the mysterious freedom of two former Death-eaters.
Harry sat staring through the window of his den. He had been holding the same piece of paper for the better part of half an hour, occasionally peering over the words but never actually comprehending what they said. By now he could barely keep the page upright. His hand was sweating so profusely that the corner he was holding had nearly disintegrated. Setting the wrinkled paper down, he rose to his feet stiffly, shaking air underneath his soaked t-shirt and fanning his face with his hand. He reached for his wand and performed a simple drying spell on his damp clothes before sitting down again, determined to read on.
Summer had taken a strong hold on the region, and everybody was suffering from the very sudden, very early heat wave. But the distraction of the heat was nothing compared to the virtual circus of thoughts racing through Harry's head. He hadn't stopped thinking of that meeting with Professor McGonagall and her offer, just three days ago. He felt guilty about not finishing Hermione's manuscript and was reminded, with an amused sense of irony, of his days as a student at Hogwarts; always waiting until the last minute, always thinking about something else when he should have been studying. Now the thing distracting him from his work was the school itself.
Having made no progress since he had first sat down, Harry admitted defeat, again, and decided to take a break, refill his glass, and see what Ginny was up to. He paused in front of the open icebox, enjoying the cool air and admiring his wife through the kitchen window. Ginny was outside, lazily tending the garden. Harry couldn't help but notice the beads of sweat dripping down her fair skin as she kneeled in the sweltering Saturday sun. He quickly ducked his head behind the door of the icebox as she turned and caught him staring. Bang. He pretended he didn't hear anything as he filled his glass to the brim with cold pumpkin juice. BANG! Harry jumped at the loudness of Ginny's fist on the window and decided he had better look, afraid she would break the glass with her next blow. Slurping the slopped juice from his hand, he put on his most innocent face as she stood, shaking a dusty finger at him and trying hard not to smile. He shrugged and stuck out his lower lip, holding up another glass and raising his eyebrows. She nodded vigorously and turned to walk inside. Harry drained the pitcher of pumpkin juice into her glass as she walked through the side door into the kitchen, kicking off her dusty shoes. She stood, hands on her hips, silently glaring at Harry's back, obviously waiting for him to apologize. Unwilling to give in so easily, Harry thought of a way he could force Ginny to break the silence first as he slid the pitcher back into the icebox.
"Harry, don't put that back in there if it's empty!" She ran over and yanked it from his hands, nearly dropping it and slopping pumpkin juice all down her shirt.
"Now look what you've done," said Harry, pulling the pitcher back from her hands and placing it gently on the top shelf. He chuckled to himself, as he walked toward a dripping, sticky Ginny who was leaning over with her arms out in front of her in an attempt to keep her shirt from clinging.
"That was a cheap trick. I didn't even see you refill it," she scolded, glaring at him.
"The hand is quicker than the eye," Harry said as he walked behind her. Ginny let out a sudden shriek.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER! Do that again and I'll hex you."
"I'd like to see you try."
"Oh you would, would you?"
"Well… it would be a fun diver—"
"Harry? Ginny? Everything all right? We heard someone scream."
"Ron! Hermione! What are you doing here?" Ginny gasped as she ran from the room.
"What's going on Harry?" asked Hermione as she entered the kitchen from the direction of the front door.
"Nothing, just a spill." Harry waved his wand and the juice stained floor sparkled clean.
"Hey, you're getting pretty good at that," said Hermione, examining the floor carefully.
"Well, Ginny's got me doing the cleaning every other day," Harry said offhandedly.
"Really? How did she manage that?" Hermione said, looking around the kitchen, inspecting Harry's handiwork. Ron, who didn't know what to think, shot Harry a glance that was somewhere between a smirk and a stern warning. Harry sensed danger for his best friend and quickly changed the subject.
"So, what brings you two out here?" Harry asked conversationally.
"Oh, we just had to get out of London. It's absolutely sweltering and the tourists are driving us mad." Hermione continued her passive sweep of the kitchen as she spoke. "You know, I'd heard it was bad, but I never would have realized before we moved to that Muggle infested city."
"Hermione!" Harry gasped, dropping his jaw. "What's gotten into you?" Ron simply stared, too shocked for words.
"Oh, did I say that out loud?" Hermione turned to face Harry and Ron who just stood there, dumbfounded. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that. Come on, it's not like… Seriously, I have nothing against muggles. I mean, come on, why would I have a problem with muggles? It was just a little misdirected anger, that's all. It's not just the muggles after all. The London wizards are just as bad. Making a ruckus all night long. It's like living in the middle of Fred and George's workshop. I don't know how anybody sleeps. And it's so crowded all the time. I guess I've always been more fond of the countryside."
"Hey Hermione, Ron. What'd I miss?" Ginny walked back into the kitchen wearing a fresh shirt and put her arm around Harry. Harry's eyes bulged and he almost yelped, but managed to turn it into a convincing cough as he glared at Ginny who responded with a satisfied smirk.
"Oh, nothing much," said Hermione looking a bit flustered. "What have you two been up to? How are your classes Ginny?"
"Oh, they're alright. There's one that's a bit of a pain right now, but it will be over soon, which is good. I'm really looking forward to Advanced Restorative Charms."
"Ooh, that sounds exciting, you'll have to tell me about it," Hermione said with enthusiasm.
"I will." Ginny smiled weakly at Harry, who was rolling his eyes. "That way I won't bore Harry to death with all the details."
"Speaking of boredom, how's the reading going Harry?" asked Hermione. Ron snorted but quickly put on an innocent face when Ginny glared at him, tapping her fingers lightly on her wand.
"Reading?" Harry tried to pretend he didn't know what she had been talking about. "Oh, your book. It's great! I'm almost done. Say, let's go into the living room and sit a spell shall we?" Harry turned and led them around the corner, giving himself a moment to compose his thoughts before having to look Hermione in the eye.
"You were almost finished three days ago?" Hermione said with a hint of annoyance as they chose their seats. "What happened?"
"Well, I've been a bit distracted." Harry ran his fingers subconsciously through his hair, which was messier than usual due to the high heat and humidity. "I'm sorry Hermione, but I think I might need a little more time for that forward. Actually, come to think of it, depending on what happens you might want some extra time on the book yourself."
"What makes you say that? Is it bad? Are there a lot of mistakes?" Hermione was growing increasingly agitated.
"No, no, no, nothing like that," Harry said in what he hoped was a calming voice. "It's just… Something's come up and, it might involve something you would want to put in the book."
"What is it?" Hermione responded with increased agitation, rendering Harry's calming efforts completely useless. "Are they having the Triwizard Tournament again? But why would they do that? They had it three years ago. Besides, isn't it Durmstrang's turn next?"
"No, Hermione." Harry couldn't help smiling at her frantic jabbering.
"It is! Eight years ago it was Hogwarts, then Beauxbatons had it. Obviously, tradition states that—"
"Yes, Hermione, I'm sure you're right, but that's not what's going on." Harry choked back a laugh, knowing it would only upset her further. "It turns out we were wrong about Professor Orchards. She's not staying."
"Oh really? I was positive she'd be the one to finally break that wretched curse." Hermione bit her nails distractedly, staring off into nothing. "Are you quite sure Harry? I haven't heard anything from Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she would have contacted me by now for some suggestions. She was always breaking down your door this time of year."
"I don't think you'll be hearing from her just yet. She's already offered someone the job," Harry said smugly. Hermione looked scandalized.
"What? Well, this is absurd. She should have at least consulted with me. I had two or three names picked out, you know, just in case we were wrong about Orchards, which, it turns out, we were…"
Harry and Ginny shared a patient look while Ron simply shook his head in embarrassment as Hermione continued to ramble.
"…But seriously, I would have heard if anyone in the department had accepted the job. What two-bit nobody did she go and pick anyway?"
"Um…" Harry sat, opening and closing his mouth over and over again, unsure of what to say.
"Um…" Hermione shot back sarcastically, "Well, didn't she tell you who she offered it to?"
"Kind of…" Harry said timidly.
"Harry, do you know who she offered the job to, or don't you?" Hermione stood up quite suddenly and glowered down at him.
"I do," he responded simply.
"Then who is it?" Hermione bellowed in frustration.
"Me."
There was a long, awkward silence as Hermione played back the conversation they had just had. Slowly, piece-by-piece, she put together everything she had said (as well as how little anyone else had). She reached down, feeling for her seat as she stared off in to space, a slow expression of comprehension coming over her as she sat down again. "Oh no! Harry I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to imply… Really, I didn't mean it. I'm just a little frustrated is all, trying to get this book finished and… It's been absolute madness and it's so hard for me to concentrate working in London. Sometimes I've stayed late at the Ministry just so I could get some peace and quiet. Harry, really, I'm sorry. It's wonderful she offered it to you." A single tear fell down Hermione's cheek and Harry instantly warmed inside.
"You're forgiven," he said reaching for her hand, "but Hermione, you have to promise me you'll chill out a little bit. You've been driving Ron nuts and I can see why. You're just too wound up right now. Look, the book's done. It's great. As soon as I get my piece in, you can send it off to the printer's."
"You really like it?"
"Sure I do. Ask Ron, he liked it too."
"Ronald? You read it? When? If I'd have known…" Ron shot Harry a scathing look.
"It's okay Ron. Hermione's not going to quiz you or anything. You read the book, and you liked it. That's all that matters. Right Hermione?"
"Oh… Right, of course." Hermione leaned closer to Ron and took his hand in hers. "Thank you sweetheart. It really means a lot to me." He blushed crimson as she kissed him on the cheek.
"That was sweet Harry," Ginny said softly as she leaned over and kissed Harry's cheek, which made Ron feel much less self-conscious.
"So Harry, this is exciting. She really offered you the job?" said Hermione who seemed much more like her usual self now.
"That's not all," called Ginny, who had just stepped into the kitchen to grab some drinks. "She wants him to be Head of House for Gryffindor and teach flying and referee for Quidditch."
"Head of House? Harry that would be amazing!" said Ron excitedly. "Oh, Snape's going to love this. Finally someone can get back at him for favoring the Slytherins."
"Ronald! Harry would never play favorites. Would you Harry?" Hermione said with dignity.
"I suppose not," said Harry. "But I could be a little more proactive than the other teachers have been. No more changing the Quidditch schedule just to train whatever joke they have for a new seeker. No more beating up on Gryffindor students instead of bloody teaching them something. I'd tutor them myself if I needed to, to get them through potions. But seriously, we're getting way ahead of ourselves here. I haven't even decided yet. Let's stop talking as though I've already accepted."
"Oh come on Harry, you know you want to take it," said Ginny handing him his previously forgotten glass of pumpkin juice and passing two fresh ones to Ron and Hermione. "How many times do I have to tell you? You'd be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they've ever had. Just think about poor old Neville. Before the D.A. he was hopeless."
"He was not hopeless," Harry groaned in frustration. "How many times to I have to say it? He just needed to loosen up a bit. Once he stopped doubting himself so much… Well, you saw what he could do."
"See that!" said Ginny, pointing at Harry as Ron and Hermione nodded. "You know just how to encourage someone and keep his spirits up. Harry I'm telling you; you're a natural. If you let this one go… Ten years from now you may not even be able to live with yourself. Those students need you Harry, and what's more, I really think you need them too."
"Ginny's right Harry," said Ron. "You keep saying you've been wanting to find what's 'next.' Maybe this is it."
"And don't forget about the Quidditch," Hermione added cheerfully. "You may not get to play, but it will be great just to be there for all of that, won't it? I know you've been missing it Harry." Ron choked into his glass and looked at Hermione in shock. "What? I like Quidditch just as much as anyone else Ron. Just because I change out of my orange robes when we get home from a match doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the game."
"Meh," said Ron softly. "Orange robes, black robes, it's all the same to me once the lights go—"
"Ronald! Behave yourself," Hermione whispered sharply, kicking him in the shin. Seeing that Harry and Ginny were arguing animatedly, and hadn't noticed, she shot back a wry smile as Ron rubbed his leg, grinning stupidly.
"Golden Snitch!" Harry shouted, grinning from ear to ear. After a moment's silence, the stone gargoyle jerked to life and leapt out of the way, revealing the spiraling stone staircase as it spun upward. Harry and Ginny climbed happily onto a step and began walking up the stairs, too eager to wait for the ride to the top. Harry knocked heavily on the large wooden door.
"Enter!" came the Headmistress's voice, and the door creaked open on its own. Harry and Ginny moved to the desk as quickly as they could without actually breaking into a run. "Well if it isn't the Potters. It's Lovely to see you again, Harry, Ginny. Please, have a seat." Expecting the two stiff backed wooden chairs they had seen as they came in, Harry and Ginny were shocked to see that they had been transformed into two comfortable, blue armchairs. "Most visitors to this office, I daresay, don't deserve much comfort," Professor McGonagall smiled knowingly at Harry, "but from time to time I do have the honor of more pleasant company." Walking around the desk, she sat in a similar chair that had appeared facing them. "I presume you are here because you have made your decision."
"Yes," said Harry, barely containing his excitement.
"And, what say you?" McGonagall said ceremoniously.
"Look at my face Professor." Harry stammered.
"Yes, Harry, you appear to be having a nervous reaction." Minerva chuckled at Harry's keen expression. "Certainly it should clear up once you relieve yourself of the burden of what appears to be very urgent information."
"I'll take it! When can I start?" Harry blurted eagerly.
"Well, I should think September the 1st should suffice," McGonagall replied with another chuckle. "Of course I will need some things from you right away: any course materials the students should have, and your choice of text. I'll need your first week's lesson plans by the 15th of August, and the school's board of governors will need all of your latest credentials and certifications. Is there anything that you need from me?"
"I'm not really sure at the moment. I'll think of things as I go I guess." Harry glanced at Ginny, as though hoping she would have an idea. When she shrugged he turned back to McGonagall, thinking hard. "An office I suppose. When is Professor Orchards moving out?"
"Oh she's already gone, with all of her stuff. She was packed up and ready to go before the leaving feast. Wanted to get ahead of the rush of students, you know."
"Great. Then we can start moving stuff in right away." Harry glanced eagerly at Ginny, who was almost as excited as he was.
"Well, I suggest we wait a bit on that Professor Potter," McGonagall said, putting extra emphasis on the last two words.
"Ooh," Ginny said, shivering in her seat and smiling. "Just the sound of that gives me goose bumps."
"Why should we wait Professor?" asked Harry, smiling in agreement with Ginny, but eager to press on.
"Well, there's been another development I'm afraid. I have to ask you if you'll accept one more responsibility. If you do you'll be needing to decide which things to keep in the Defense office and which to keep in your other office."
"Other office, what other office? Really Headmistress, I don't have that much stuff. I don't need two offices." Harry gave a hollow, skeptical laugh. Professor McGonagall maintained her traditional severe expression.
"That remains to be determined, Harry." McGonagall's expression changed quickly from amusement to seriousness in a way only she could do. "I'm afraid our dear Professor Sprout has resigned as well. The stress of rebuilding the grounds over these last couple of years has been awfully hard on her, but things are well on their way to recovery now."
"You want me to teach Herbology?" Harry asked breathlessly. "I'm sorry, professor, but there's no possible way I could handle that workload. I was never as good at it either."
"No, I don't need you to teach Herbology." At this, she smiled again in amusement. "I've already filled that position actually. The complication I have to deal with, is that Professor Sprout was also deputy headmistress, so I have that role to fill as well."
"What about Professor Flitwick?"
"I have asked, and he has declined. He's not a young man anymore, but still brilliant at charms as always," McGonagall chirped fondly.
"Oh no, you're not thinking…" Harry was suddenly rethinking his optimism at taking the job. Hoping he had guessed wrong he tentatively offered, "Professor Snape?"
"No, I am not." The room seemed to grow dimmer and even slightly cold in the dark pause that followed these words. Minerva leaned closer and looked intently at both Harry and Ginny in turn. "Now I must warn you both that what you are about to hear must be kept in the strictest secrecy. Not even the Minister for Magic is privy to this information. Do I have your confidence?"
"Yes," Harry and Ginny responded gravely. Harry got the feeling that McGonagall's words sounded oddly rehearsed.
"Professor Dumbledore left a final testament," McGonagall began with an air that suggested she was telling a long, sad story. "Most of its contents are still unknown to anyone. Dumbledore enchanted it to reveal information only when there is a profound need for it, and then, only to the most trustworthy person concerned, who most needed to know. This person would then be bound by the same principles for passing along that information to others as well. As such, I'm afraid that much of what I do know I am, quite literally, unable to reveal to you."
Harry and Ginny exchanged silent looks of apprehension as McGonagall paused for effect.
"Professor Snape has advanced as much as he ever will at Hogwarts," she continued gravely. "We all know, of course, that Dumbledore planned his death, but most people do not know how this was proven. His will explains the circumstances clearly. As was previously apparent to you, Harry, Dumbledore's death was already imminent at the time of Snape's death curse. The ministry reduced Snape's charges when it was determined that, had he not killed Dumbledore – who would have died shortly thereafter anyway – the result could have meant the death of Severus Snape or Draco Malfoy, or perhaps even both. They were each essential to Professor Dumbledore's plans and could not be sacrificed. It was in light of these facts, that both Malfoy and Snape were eventually released on probationary terms." Harry and Ginny shared another significant look, but remained resolutely silent.
"As you know, Mr. Malfoy is still completing his reentry procedures. Malfoy's sentence was longer because, while his crimes were much less successful, they were carried out with much darker intent than Snape, who was indeed serving as a very secretive double agent for Dumbledore. Professor Snape has completed his reentry process and is now a full citizen, short of the mandatory requirement to register as a former dark wizard." Harry nodded at these words. This was information he already knew.
"As for Professor Snape's role at Hogwarts, Dumbledore made it expressly clear that the exonerating evidence his will gave, would only come with Snape's agreement to never seek or hold a role that would ever leave him with any authority over the school as a whole. As a result, he is ineligible for the position of Deputy Headmaster." McGonagall paused to be sure they understood this point. Harry responded with a single nod that obviously meant he wanted her to continue. "I cannot be sure if this is the case, but I think I am correct in guessing, that this clause was a very late addition to the will. Dumbledore did continue to trust Professor Snape for his important task, but he was decidedly furious with him for his behavior the previous year, most especially regarding your Occlumency lessons, and also for his treatment of Sirius."
Harry and Ginny simply gaped at each other, stunned at the revelations they were hearing. The conditions of Snape's and Malfoy's shockingly short prison terms had been an incredible mystery since they were handed down, with a single, brief statement from the Ministry:
Certain classified evidence has come to our attention, which has shed light on the circumstances of these two men's crimes, and has showed, incontrovertibly, that prior to their arrest, with the assistance of Dumbledore himself, they played a key part in bringing forth the largest capture of death eaters to date.
That record capture had occurred just two months after Dumbledore's death, and was not surpassed until the very end of the Great War, and the death of Voldemort himself.
The ensuing scandal had riveted the papers for months. People simply found it too hard to believe after everything they had heard, until something equally unbelievable happened. It was one of the few harrowing acts of publicity in which Harry had played a willing role. He had shocked the entire wizarding world when, at the age of 17, he publicly called upon all people, to join him in the fight against the real threat to their lives. "Dumbledore has sacrificed his life for all of us, and we must believe, however difficult it may be, that with the help of these two wizards he has indeed turned the tide of the war in our favor." It had been one of the biggest leaps of faith Harry had ever taken, shocking even his close friends. He simply knew he had to trust Dumbledore, and that meant trusting Snape, however hard it would seem.
Now, with the final pieces of the puzzle, Harry's mind raced to put together all of the new information he had received. Professor McGonagall paused, allowing them to absorb. Eventually, Ginny seemed to finally grasp everything, and took Harry's hand. "It really was the right thing to do wasn't it? You know, I was so proud of you that day when you got up and defended Snape and Malfoy. We all thought you were crazy, but something in your eyes told me that you were right. Now we know."
"Yeah," Harry said lamely, studying the floor in deep concentration.
"I must remind you again," said Professor McGonagall, "this information is not to leave this room. Truth be told, you shouldn't be able to divulge what we've discussed here, but I shudder to think what could happen if you tried."
"I understand," said Harry. "So for Deputy Headmaster or mistress, you'd need either me, or the new head of Hufflepuff wouldn't you? If Professor Flitwick won't do it, and Professor Snape can't…"
"Your assessment is correct Harry," Professor McGonagall replied simply. "Again, you won't be obligated to accept immediately but, strictly between us, I have chosen to offer it first to you. You may take a few days to consider before you—"
"I'll do it."
"You're sure you don't want to think on it for a while?"
"No, I was sorry I waited so long to accept the first position. I don't want to make that mistake again." Harry smiled over at Ginny who nodded her approval.
"Very well," McGonagall continued. "Professor Sprout will be moving her things by the end of July. That should allow you enough time to get yourself properly situated before start of term. We will, at some point, need to schedule some meetings in the late part of August to coordinate the beginnings of the school year. You, of course, will be presiding over the sorting ceremony and we will have to prepare for that. The process is somewhat, 'different' from when you were students."
"How do you mean?" Harry glanced up and looked at the tattered form of the sorting hat, sitting silently on a high shelf.
"Well, it's a bit more drawn out, I'm afraid. It started two sortings ago. It was awfully embarrassing for poor Amy Amherst." McGonagall smiled silently at the memory.
"What happened?" Ginny asked.
"Well, everything was going quite smoothly. The hat's song was a bit unorthodox, a little vague you could say, but nothing really troubling. Naturally, she was the first student called up for the sorting. I tell you, I have seen that hat sit and ponder for quite a while before, but never this long. She sat there for a full five minutes before the snickering started to get out of control. She was glowing with embarrassment, but she stayed there. Finally, she stood up, took off the hat and walked it up to me, right in the middle of the staff table. I'll never in my life forget it. In her tiny little voice she looked up at me and said: 'The hat and I have decided that I will be in Ravenclaw.'"
"'The hat and I have decided?'" Ginny repeated incredulously.
"I honestly didn't know what to do," continued McGonagall, shrugging. "Anything I could think of would simply embarrass her beyond measure. I thought of walking her out of the room to talk privately, but surely she would never have heard the end of it. Finally I leaned over and whispered: 'What do you mean Miss Amherst?' and she responded: 'The hat told me to come up here and tell you we have decided I should be in Ravenclaw.' 'The hat told you?' I replied to her. Finally I got the idea that the sorting hat was trying to send me a message. Not really knowing what to do, I put the hat on myself."
"That must have been amusing for the students," said Ginny.
"There was no small amount of laughter, let me tell you, but I hardly heard it. That bloody old sorting hat had decided to change the entire way in which we conduct the sorting. 'I have seen all the evidence I need to see,' he said to me. 'It is time we stop making choices for the students, and start educating them to make their own. From now on, they will be the ones deciding their houses, with me as their guide.' I asked the hat why he hadn't shouted the name even if the decision was reached differently. 'That announcement is for Amy to make,' was all he said, and then he went silent. Not really sure what to do I just told Amy to shout 'Ravenclaw,' and go over and sit at the table. I thought the older students were going to riot, but that's how the sorting went. One by one they each got up there, had their time with the hat, shouted their house name and sat down."
"So Amy… the rest of them… they all decided where they wanted to be?" said Ginny. Harry, who had been staring silently at the sorting hat the entire time, had just realized she was now up and pacing in front of her chair. "Wow, I wish we had been given a choice. Don't you Harry? Granted I still would have chosen Gryffindor, but I was so nervous I was going to be put somewhere else. I would have felt much better about it, knowing I had a choice."
"Yes," Professor McGonagall nodded to Ginny. "Apparently, the hat seems to believe that it is beneficial for students to make their own choices early on. I have no idea how he made that decision. I've tried with the hat several times, but I can't get a straight answer out of him. I don't know why there was such a sudden change."
Harry stood up abruptly. Ginny and McGonagall stopped talking quickly when they saw the look of sudden comprehension on his face. He walked silently around the desk to the ragged old sorting hat. Without a word, he pulled it down onto his head. The two women simply stared at him as he stood there silently, a steely look of determination in his eyes. After a moment, he replaced the hat, and returned to his seat.
"Professor, I know why."