Harry hadn't been to Hogwarts since the reconstructions before the first post-war school term. He had been asked to make a speech, and nearly had a breakdown when he stepped into the Great Hall. Thinking back to that day, Harry couldn't for the life of his remember a single word of that speech, but afterwards, Hermione said that he had made everybody cry.
Nowadays, Harry was in a much better place mentally, but the towers of the castle looming ahead against forbidding grey skies filled him with anticipation and dread. Hogwarts was his first home, and it would always remain so to some extent. Yet Harry could still close his eyes and recall the image of the bodies in the Great Hall in every vivid detail.
Minerva McGonagall was waiting for him on the steps, a frozen figure amidst the gusts of wind and snow.
"Polyidus Thompson, I presume?"
Harry pushed his anxieties to the back of his mind and put on an amiable smile. "Headmistress McGonagall."
"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She motioned Harry inside. "Governor Farley assured me of your utmost competence in the field of Divination." The way McGonagall's lips formed a thin line suggested how little she thought about both the Board of Governors' interferences with staff decisions and Divination. "You can leave your luggage here, and the house-elves will take it to your room. I will show it to you after the staff meeting."
They walked rest of the way in silence, save for Harry making a show of being excited at the moving staircase. He had always remembered McGonagall as a stern teacher, but this frigid welcome was disconcerting.
When they finally arrived, the staffroom was already full. McGonagall introduced him briefly.
"I have, of course, seen all of you in my crystal ball, but it's nice to finally meet you in the flesh, so to say." Was he laying it too thick? "Please call me Paul."
Whatever prompted Ethelred Farley to choose the name, he'd be damned if he was going to be addressed by Polyidus. Pansy loved it, though. Even after all these years, she was still trying to persuade him to change his name to Hadrian, and Harry suspected she was only partly joking.
The introduction was met with murmurs, nods and stares ranging from curious to disdainful. Harry sat next to a blonde witch who had barely glanced at him from the book she had been reading. With a surprise, Harry recognized a muggle encyclopaedia of aquatic life, the same one he had given Pansy last Christmas together with an enchanted plushy of a certain marine creature.
Harry let McGonagall's voice, talking about Hogsmeade schedule and NEWTs preparations, wash over him and focused on the people in the room. Most of the faces were familiar, but there were some new additions. The witch beside him was apparently Priscilla Doge, the Transfiguration Professor and, according to Pansy, the "real deal" ("Mistress of Transfiguration at the age of twenty, numerous publications in Transfiguration Monthly, and I'm not talking of those silly articles about how your animagus form of a slug doesn't mean you are a bad person"). The man with a scar on his cheek giving Harry a dismissive glance across the table had to be Alfred Richardson. Ex-Auror, Defence Professor, current Head of Gryffindor. Sitting next to him was Elizabeth Bell, Katie Bell's mother, who was teaching Muggle Studies. Harry had met her briefly once while investigating the lost brooch case two years ago. She seemed like a sweet and good-natured woman.
Professor Bell met Harry's gaze and smiled at him encouragingly.
And there was Neville Longbottom, of course, Herbology Professor of the last couple of years. Harry made sure to sit as far as possible from him and avoid direct eye contact. They haven't seen each other in recent years, but out of all people in the room, Neville had the best chance to recognize him. There were other reasons as well, but Harry didn't want to dwell on those.
But apparently, Harry's precautions were quite unnecessary, since Neville seemed to be visibly distraught over something, fidgeting and lost in thought. Flitwick, who was sitting on his right, had to repeat something twice already and was now looking at Neville with concern. Harry glanced at him curiously one more time and looked away. His eyes fell on another man in the farthest corner of the room.
As always, Severus Snape cut an imposing figure. He was sitting with his back ramrod straight, the slightest hint of a sneer on his lips. The high collar of his usual black robes was up, and Harry wondered if Nagini's bite had left any scars. Snape looked the same yet very different from the mean teacher he remembered from his school years or the gaunt man, deathly pale but with his head held high, awaiting his trial before the Wizengamot. In fact, Snape looked almost attractive. He could never be considered classically handsome, but his features were striking and decidedly masculine. He had that air of mystery and danger around him that the current Defence Professor with all his glares and facial scars could only hope to achieve. Snape's hair, slightly greasy as usual, was tied back at the nape of his neck. One of the strands got loose, and Harry had a ridiculous desire to tuck it behind his ear.
Suddenly Snape looked straight at Harry, catching him staring. Harry flushed and looked away, but not before shooting a small and somewhat stupid smile. Pansy was right, he really needed to get laid, especially if the sight of Severus Snape of all people made him feel like a teenager, and not in the way one would expect.
The door to the staffroom opened, cutting McGonagall off and bringing Harry out of his silent bemoaning of the sorry state of his love life. Professor Sinistra, her usually perfect hair dishevelled, hurried inside with a toddler on her hip.
"I'm awfully sorry, Minerva, it's just Estella is teething again, Persy couldn't sleep last night so now he's throwing a mighty tantrum, and John's in that training camp of his–"
McGonagall's face softened.
"Never you mind, dear Aurora. I was just talking about Hogsmeade chaperoning duties, and you don't have those anyway. With two little ones, you have enough on your plate already."
Sinistra sat beside the Muggle Studies Professor, who promptly started cooing over the little girl. The fact that his old professors had families and could even have small children shouldn't have shocked Harry so much, but for some reason it did. Not that Aurora Sinistra qualified as old; she was probably barely forty. Now that he thought about it, Ron and other boys in the dorm always went on and on about how hot she was, with her curves and her curls and flawless dark skin. She was truly a beautiful woman. That Harry had never felt attracted to her in the slightest should have probably told him all he needed to know about his sexuality right there and then and spared him his awkward experiences of dating Cho and Ginny.
The meeting went quickly from there. McGonagall didn't assign Harry any duties or gave any instructions, probably because Trelawney never received any of those beyond maybe suggestions to try and sober up a bit. Finally, the Headmistress asked if anyone had any questions.
"I wonder if anything's been done about Mr. Rowle's disappearance," Snape not-quite-asked in his measured tone of voice.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I'd say," Richardson said with a sneer, inexplicably reminding Harry of Uncle Vernon.
Snape sneered back.
McGonagall sent Richardson a disapproving look but otherwise didn't comment. Instead, she took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. "As I've already told you, Severus, Mr. Rowle is already of age, so there is little we can legally do about the situation, as much as it pains me."
"I've written to Rowle's mother again and asked her to contact Hogwarts as soon as she hears from him," Sinistra piped in, sounding genuinely concerned.
At least somebody was, Harry thought bitterly. It seemed Farley was right. Even kindly Mrs. Bell wore an ugly expression when Snape brought up the boy.
"I wanted to make a visit too, but couldn't find her address. What with the kids and all that, there are simply not enough hours in a day—" Sinistra babbled. "Maybe you have it in your records, Minerva?"
"I'll certainly look into it, but I doubt it, unfortunately," McGonagall said dismissively.
Then Madam Hooch asked about the new Bludgers she needed for the upcoming match, and the issue was dropped.
Harry spent the time before the students arrived trying and mostly failing to exorcise the heavy smell of incense from the Divination classroom at least. Trelawney's office was beyond all hope. In fact, it could hardly be called an office, resembling more of a cross between a fortune-teller's booth at a fair and a storeroom. Three crystal balls of different sizes covered with ornate cloth were hovering a couple of inches above the desk. Heavy burgundy curtains, shut tight, hid empty bottles of cooking sherry. After the first visit, Harry vowed never to set foot there again.
Hoping its true owner would return there sooner rather than later, Harry didn't want to rearrange Trelawney's classroom too much, but the smells and paisley upholstery was giving him a headache. Thankfully, his quarters were at the bottom of the North Tower, far below the classroom. There was a living room with a small kitchenette and a bedroom done in neutral colours. The bathroom had an ancient shower stall and, inexplicably, a huge black marble bathtub with some runes carved along the edges. Taking one look at it, Harry decided that simple showers would do for now, just in case.
As the classroom was evidently a lost cause and there was still time before dinner, Harry decided to venture towards the Astronomy Tower. Professor Sinistra was his best start on the Rowle boy unless he wanted to go question Snape, and he certainly didn't want to do that just now. He was reasonably sure Snape wouldn't recognize him: the last time he had a good look at Harry, discounting the Forest of Dean, the Shrieking Shack and that time at the trial, was when Harry wasn't yet seventeen. Still, with Snape, a spy and Legilimens extraordinaire, one had to be extra careful.
Harry was at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower when something small collided with his knees. He looked down. A small boy around Teddy's age was sitting on the ground and preparing to bawl. His little face was scrunched and has lower lip quivered dangerously.
"Hey, little guy, does your Mummy know you're wandering here?" Harry asked, lifting the boy on his feet.
"Mr. Dragon wanted to 'splore." Crying forgotten, the boy presented a stuffed Ukrainian Ironbelly.
"Oh, is that so?" Aurora Sinistra hurried down the stairs. "You get up here, Perseus, and we'll talk about yours and Mr. Dragon's behaviour and the mess you've left in the living room!"
"Uh-huh," Harry smiled down at the boy. "Seems like someone is in big trouble!"
The boy scowled.
"Sorry, it seems recently the Tower is not enough for this little rascal. He's intent on 'exploring' the rest of the castle, preferably unsupervised. I'm glad you caught him here." Sinistra smiled. "You're our new Divination Professor, substituting for Sybil, right?"
"Polyidus Thompson at your service, but you can call me Paul."
"Aurora Sinistra, Astronomy Professor and Head of Slytherin House. Please call me Aurora."
Harry hummed. "It must be hard to juggle all of your duties with being a mother?"
She sighed tiredly. "You cannot even imagine. With most of my classes late at night, I barely have the time to sleep, and my Mastery is again put on hold for who knows how long. Thankfully, Severus is a great help with the Slytherins. It's such a shame the Ministry and the Board still oppose to restoring him as a Head of House. He is so much more suited to that position than me. Especially what with this Rowle business—"
"The Rowle business?"
"Well, you heard a part of it at the meeting. The sixth-year Slytherin boy just packed his trunk and left Hogwarts with only a vague note, and nobody really cares all that much, since he was of age and his father is a Death Eater," she said, sighing again. "He's a quiet and studious boy, eleven OWLs, so much potential! And he is nothing like his father. He went to muggle primary, you see, and apparently has a TV at home. He asked me once about a muggle documentary about space." She smiled but then her face fell. "But he was bullied by those Gryffindor boys, and I suppose he reached a point where leaving Hogwarts seemed like a better choice. I do not tolerate this type of behaviour, of course, but I'm always up there in the Tower."
"I'm sure you do your best," Harry assured her. Aurora seemed like she was trying her best, and she obviously felt guilty about Rowle.
"You're too kind." Her son was tugging at her robe insistently, tired of watching grownups talk. "Alright, alright, we're going!" She said to him and looked at Harry apologetically.
"It was nice to meet you, Aurora, and you, Perseus," he said. "Are you going down to dinner?"
"Oh no, I rarely go to the Great Hall. But you are always welcome to come up and chat!" Aurora looked at her son. "Say goodbye to Professor Thompson, Persy!"
"Bye," the boy said dutifully, and his mother took him by the hand to go upstairs, while Harry went in the opposite direction.
There were only two free seats left at the staff table when he finally got to the Great Hall. Unlike in Harry's school years, Snape was sitting at the end of the table, with a space between him and Professor Bell. The other seat was between Neville and Professor Grubbly-Plank, who was once again substituting for Hagrid. Hagrid himself was in France again, visiting Madame Maxime. Harry knew that she wanted Hagrid to move there permanently, and it was just a matter of time until he gave in. It was sad to imagine Hogwarts without the lovable half-giant, but if there was someone truly deserving of happiness, it was his first and oldest friend.
After some deliberation, Harry sat next to Snape and started piling food on his plate. His mouth watered at the steak and kidney pie he missed so much from his Hogwarts days. Kreacher made a mean shepherd's pie, but he was old and Harry felt bad about asking him to do anything, much to the house elf's protests. And while Harry was a decent cook, he rarely bothered to make anything just for himself, surviving mostly on takeaway. All this savoury and rich food on the table brought a wave of nostalgia and delight.
Meanwhile, McGonagall rose from her seat to welcome returning students. At the end of her short speech, she introduced Polyidus Thompson as Trelawney's substitute for the time being. Harry stood for a moment and smiled at the students who clapped half-heartedly, eager to start the feast.
Having made certain that the pie is as good as ever, Harry finally turned to Snape. "Severus Snape, right?"
Snape nodded without taking his eyes off his roast.
"I've been kind of dreading being a teacher, but I must confess, the food here makes everything worth it. I'm Paul, by the way."
Snape shot him an annoyed glance, clearly indicating that the present company was unwelcome. Harry's position and the fact that he was wearing a bloody poncho clearly held him at a disadvantage. Oh well, he supposed it could be worse. He could just imagine the response at the attempt to chat up Snape as himself.
Still, Harry was not so easily deterred. "Do you have any tips for my first day? I want to make a good impression."
"Just showing up sober would be a marked improvement over your predecessor," Snape said finally with a contemptuous curl of his lips.
Harry laughed nervously. "Well, there's that, I guess."
"You have to find a balance between being friendly and supportive to your students and keeping your class under control," Professor Bell chimed in. "Try to assert yourself from the very first lesson, or little ruffians will walk all over you." She smiled, "Elizabeth Bell, Muggle Studies and Head of Hufflepuff."
She was giving Harry some more teaching advice when suddenly a commotion started. Having marched to the Gryffindor table, a Slytherin girl around sixteen or seventeen was confronting some Gryffindor boys here age, who looked from mutinous to mocking to outraged. What started as an angry hiss was threatening to turn into full-blown shouting.
"—that you are scum, and deep down you know it!"
"Miss Weasley! Behave yourself!" McGonagall admonished from her seat. She looked at Snape, but he only gave her an exaggerated shrug and returned to his food. The girl just looked at the staff table, flipped her strawberry coloured hair defiantly, and turned back to the boys. She didn't say anything further, just glared at them, not moving from the table.
Richardson stood up and made his way to the Gryffindor table where he proceeded to take a bunch of points from Slytherin. The girl spun on her heel and left the Great Hall altogether, her face a blank mask.
Harry had a lot of questions, but one, in particular, stood out the most.
There was a Weasley in Hogwarts? A Weasley in Slytherin?