Chapter 7

"What a bothersome girl."

"Don't be like that Severus. I think she is rather cute. Plus, she did feed us a nice breakfast," said Harry. Currently, the two of them were making their way through the Diagon Alley.

"She was clingy," Snape surmised the root of his problems.

Harry smiled as he remembered Amber pestering Snape with her multiple questions regarding potions. The girl had a remarkable thirst for knowledge and multitude of questions of her own. Had it not been for her overexcitement at meeting a rather famous potions apprentice, Harry suspected that the two of them would have done splendidly.

"Well she was a bit.. curious, I think (Snape snorted). But you can't fault her for it. Meeting a well known figure of one's field would do that to you. Besides, you potion masters are a rare bunch. Meeting you today must have made of pretty happy."

That was an understatement at best. The girl had been absolutely exuberant after learning Snape's identity. So much so that she had refused to let the two of them leave until Harry extracted a promise from Snape to meet her in the future. Hence Snape's discontentment at the situation.

"Are we no longer going to Gringotts then?" Snape asked.

"I told you earlier didn't I? I was only willing to trade with those theiving beings because I was pretty hungry. Now that I have had a satisfying breakfast, I no longer have to do so."

"You don't like them much do you?"

"Do not like them? If that is not an understatement then I don't know what is. I nearly killed all of the buggers back in my own world. Idiots threatened me to hand over a Philosopher's stone to them. They even had the gall to send a fully fledged army to my castle. My home! The idiots."

"That must not have gone well for them then," Snape said again.

"What is it today Severus? Make-an-understatement day? (Snape rolled his eyes) And to answer your question, no it did not," Harry said with a vicious grin.

Harry suddenly remembered something.

"Speaking of that, tell me, what do you know of Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel?"

"Not much. Just the usual. It is said that Nicolas Flamel was the father of alchemy and did much work to contribute at the field. At the later part of his life, he was obsessed with making the Philosopher's stone. He sold his every possession and wealth and invested even his life towards his research. At the end, he couldn't finish his it. His wife abandoned him and he died a lonely man."

As Snape explained, a flicker of sadness passed through Harry's face. He had hoped that he would be able to spend some time with Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel of this world but sadly, they had not survived. Harry had no idea why the Nicolas of here could not make the Philosopher's stone. After all, save for the rarity of the ingredients involved, the formula itself was not that hard. Perhaps he did not have enough funds to pursue its creation? At this point, Harry could only speculate but the only thing that mattered was that Nicolas and Perenelle of this world had not survived their old age in this world.

"So what should we do now?" Snape asked him.

"Hmm.. since we don't have any galleons on us and I have no desire of associating with the goblins, I reckon we should search for a job."

"Job you say?" Severus considered this proposal. They did need gold for sustainance.

"Dumbledore had asked me to teach Potions at Hogwarts," Severus said.

"When was this?"

"A few months back. I was busy with my research of the summoning ritual so I declined. Besides, I have no desire to spend so much time around blithering idiots that the majority of Hogwarts' students are."

"I sense a but coming-"

"But, Dumbledore less asked and more implied that I was to teach his kids. It was only due to my insistence that he allowed me to take a few months leave."

From the way Snape spoke the word, his thoughts on Dumbledore's proposal was quite clear. Crystal clear in fact.

Harry chuckled. If he had learned anything while associating with Snape in his schooldays, it was that the man hated children. But despite that, he was more or less forced to teach by Dumbledore. In truth, it was merely a way to keep close eyes on him.

"I think you should take the job. He did save you from Azkaban did he not? Besides, if you were to be present at Hogwarts, it would make things much easier for me."

Snape raised his eyebrows at that.

"How so?" He asked.

"Remember I told you that I had no way of going back at my own world?"

Snape nodded reluctantly.

"That was true of course, but what I did not tell you is that there is someone who may be able to send me back."

"Who is that?" Snape asked curiously.

"Why, the second coming of Rowena Ravenclaw herself!" Harry said jovially.

Snape eyed him incredulously.

"What? Don't believe me? In fact, she is going to become much greater than Ravenclaw."

"Pardon my.. disbelief," Snape began, "But one would think that such person would not have gone unnoticed by rest of the wizarding population, let alone the Dark Lord. Unless of course, you are talking about Dumbledore himself."

Harry snorted.

"Oh heavens no, Severus. Dumbledore is a great wizard with instinctive understanding of magic but the one I am talking about is much much more knowledgeable than him. As for the reason no one knows about her? Well, it's because she should be a mere toddler at present," Harry finished with a smirk.

Snape was still reluctant to accept Harry's words but far be it from him to question the words of a wizard capable of erasing his Dark mark. That brought him to his next question.

"So you want me to teach then?" Snape concurred.

"Not exactly, no. I know just how bad you are with children. No, Severus, I do not really want you to teach. I was merely pointing out the advantages of you being present at Hogwarts."

Snape looked lost for a moment. Thus, Harry decided to clarify further.

"One: you will no longer be held under any suspicion by Dumbledore. Really, if you do not accept this position, then you will have to live your life in hiding from him.

"Two: it will provide you with lodgings, a substantial amount of gold and easier access to potion ingredients via the Forbidden Forest and apothecaries.

"Three: As I said earlier, it will make things easier for me when the time comes to contact the witch that I spoke of.

"However, you do not have to follow my orders for I have no right to order you around. Accept the position if you want to. Deny it if you do not," Harry concluded.

"But Dumbledore-" Snape began but was interrupted.

"Is a very powerful wizard but believe me when I say, Severus, that if I hide you then not even the combined might of the entire magical population all over the world can find you, let alone a warlock like Dumbledore."

That was a pretty big statement to make, although, when Harry said it, Severus found that he believed it quite easily.

"So.. I can quit whenever I want and Dumbledore won't be able to stop me?"

"Nope. And he won't be able to find you too. Not even Voldemort for that matter," Harry offered.

"The Dark Lord is dead," Snape said blandly.

"Believe it if you must," Harry said in a dismissive manner.

After that, the two of them were quite for a while. Harry was waiting for Snape to answer first while Snape was pondering over the merits and demerits of taking up the Potions post at Hogwarts. A silent minute later, Snape was the first to speak.

"I am yet to complete my Potions mastery and as such, I need a steady amount of income. A teaching position does seem lucrative at the moment even if I have to endure whining brats for a few years."

Harry smiled at his decision.

"A logical decision. One that I have come to expect from you."

Snape then asked, "What will you do in the meanwhile then?"

"Me? Hmm.. I don't really know. As I told you, I too will search for a job. But seeing as I have no NEWTS or OWLS and no desire of forging any documents as of yet, my choices are pretty limited."

Harry was brought out of his musings by a large gathering of people around a building of the Diagon Alley.

He eyed the mass curiously.

"Hey watch it!"

A man said as he bumped into Harry who had just suddenly stopped to eye the crowd.

"Oh, I am quite sorry," he said sincerely.

The man murmured something about blind idiots and then was about to head towards the crowd but was stopped by Harry's question,

"Excuse me, why are people gathered there?"

The man looked irritated at being interrupted and for a moment, Harry thought that he was not going to answer him but then the man turned and said in a tad grumpy voice,

"Don't read the prophet do you? Whatever.. the people are there for tryouts. Chudley Canons have called for fans to tryouts for Chaser and Seeker positions."

Harry looked at the man incredulously.

"Huh? First I've ever heard of a club selecting players like this." Harry muttered with a voice slightly larger than he'd intended.

The man, of course, heard it and snorted, "Yeah, you got that right you did. This is but a publicity stunt by the Canons. What I heard was that there are already the intended players from the junior division mixed up in the crowd. The rest is only for show."

"Heh," Harry drawled, "What happens if someone from the crowd outperforms the intended players then?"

"Not a chance," the man argued, "Weatherby and Tommy are the best players from the Chudley's junior division. Not one in the crowd can match up to them."

With that said, the man turned and left.

Harry, who was now sporting the widest grin that he had in the past century, turned to Snape and said, "Severus, I think I have decided what to do."

"This is a bad idea," Snape said.

The two of them were in the middle of the queue that had been around for the tryouts.

"Oh don't be such a baby Severus," Harry said, mildly amused.

"Why Quidditch of all things? Can't you do other.. respectable things?" Snape complained.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Quidditch is plenty respectable!" Harry countered, "Besides, it has been quite some time since I have seriously played any Quidditch. This should be fun."

"I sincerely doubt that," Snape said in a wry tone, "As that man said earlier, the intendeds are mixed up in the crowd. I doubt that you could perform better than any player from the junior division, let alone the best."

Harry smirked, "Oh Severus, if only you knew."

After another hour worth of waiting, their turn arrived. Severus politely excused himself saying that he was merely a tag along, while Harry prepared for the tryout for the Seeker position.

The tryouts were being executed in a group of ten. The broom that each group was given was an older model of Comet, which in Harry's humble opinion was a blasphemy to aerodynamics. He even gave a thought about enchanting the broom with his own spell to increase its speed and stability but promptly dropped the idea on the grounds that it would have been too conspicuous.

On the whistle of the club staff, the ten people took off in their Comets and performed a basic Seeker's drill, circling the pitch.

Ragmar Dorkins, the manager of Chudley Cannons for nearly a decade was speaking with his coach from the sidelines.

"Damn PR and their tricks. Remind me again Ross, why did I ever agree with this?"

"Err.. You didn't really boss. They just slipped the paper in between our regular maintenance reports. Hehe.." Ross said with an awkward laughter at the end.

"Damned right they did, or I would have tore down that thrice damned paper and burned it with fiendfyre. Fucking waste of my time it is."

"Now boss, be a good sport will you. Besides, look at the fan that turned up here. It would undoubtedly provide a strong moral support to them," the pudgy coach offered.

Ragmar, who was a lithe man with an intimidating aura around him growled in response, "What would provide a strong moral support to the fans, Ross, is us winning a fucking game. Not this idiotic farce. Look at them, half of them are fucking absymal on top of their brooms. The other three fly as if they are taking their kids on a ride. Tell me, Ross, do you expect to beat the Falcons with that type of flying?"

"No boss. But it's not as if we will take in our team anyway. Tommy is going-"

"to be selected anyway. Yeah yeah. You already told me that about ten times in the last minute. (Ross rolled his eyes) But that's exactly my point isn't it? Why do this idiotic dance if we already have our player. I say stop this tryout, turn all of them back and drag Tommy and Weatherby here and resume our fucking practice session!"

Ross winced slightly at the loud volume of his manager. It was not as if Ross did not understand. With the less than ideal performance of their team for the last century, the only way to maintain the fanbase of the Canons was with stunts like this. Even if they were slightly time-consuming.. or pointless.

"Lighten up boss," he said carefully, "Besides, the two in that group are flying quite well aren't they?"

"Yes they are," Ragmar admitted, "If you are playing for Hogwarts that is. That's enough, call them down," he ordered.

"But boss, they are currently at two laps out of five-"

"I don't care. I have seen enough of them. Call the next team up."

Ross sighed. When Ragmar got like this, there was no arguing with him. He reached out of his pockets for the whistle and was about to blow it but was stopped by something that would change not only his, but the entire Chudley Cannon's time to come.

Up at the broom, Harry had finished gauging the capabilities of his Comet. He was already at the end of the two laps and with three laps remaining, it was time to unleash his true capabilities that had blacklisted him from every major Quidditch league back in his world.

Magic filled the broom up to the brim and it instantly shot out like a rocket. Harry gave a loud shout of joy and pulled his chest to the broom handle, urging his old Comet to the top speed of a yet-to-be-invented Nimbus 2000. He angled his body to the left, making the turn with a fluid arc and maintained it, creating a semi-circle at the end of the pitch. He then raced to the opposite side in less than a second and yet again turned the similar semi circular arc. He shot out again and caught up to the others who were yet to pass the second lap mark. He flew over them, doing a roll with a highly enthusiastic shout and continued onward with his lap.

By the time the others completed their third lap, Harry had already finished his sixth and was still on the process of completing his seventh. He was having way too much fun to keep track of his finished laps. He was stopped though, when, with a feeling of something breaking up, his broom gave out. His speed cut off, he descended slowly towards the ground with a disappointed face. He had wanted to continue flying. Unfortunately, apart from specifically designed alchemical metals, no other medium was able to handle his amount of raw power. At the end, the Comet too, didn't last much than half a minute.

"Wh-What was that! Tell me, Ross! Fucking tell me that you saw that!" Ragmar cried out in alarm.

Ross, meanwhile, was too stunned to respond. Just now, he had seen something impossible. A Comet broom, a decade old Comet broom actually flied at that speed! Not only that, it outflied any and all top of the line broom! Merlin's beard!

"Ross! ROSS!" Ragmar cried out, shocking his coach out of his musings, "Who is he!? I want him Ross! I fucking want him!"

Despite of the suspicious wordings of his manager, Ross full well knew the man's sentiments. The broom's speed was only one part of the performance. What was even more shocking was the flier! Not only had he maneuvered the broom at that speed, but he had done so with such ease, such fluidity that Ross could only count in one hands, the number of professional players who could fly like that.

"What are you waiting for you damn fool! Go and arrange for him to have further trials right now or Merlin so help me, I will curse your generations to come. Run you idiot!" Ragmar cried out.

Ross was only happy to comply as he made his way towards the man who had just descended into the ground.

Harry's title in his old world were The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Chosen-One, The-Vanquisher, Order Of Merlin First class, Chief Warlock of Wizengamot, First ever president of S.P.E.W., Youngest head of the DMLE, Star Seeker of 430th Quidditch World Cup and also (through one drunk Ron Weasley) Master Of Death.

That pretty much meant that whenever and wherever he went, without polyjuice potions, he would be mobbed. He couldn't literally take one step into the Diagon Alley without someone spotting him and alerting the bystanders to his presence, thereby ensuing a crowd that would be the nightmare of any Auror. Also, after the particular mishap which lead to his status of Master of Death being known to the world, many up and coming Dark Lords would constantly seek him out and then try to off him in the hopes of acquiring the Death Stick. It would have been interesting, had he not been immune to Death itself (besides, not many Dark Wizard had the presence of mind to use an Expelliarmus when their Killing Curse would not work. Harry was positive that the average Dark Wizard's intelligence had been on a constant decline since Voldemort.)

The Potter incident, as it was named in the subsequent years, happened precisely due to his fame (or infamy, according to Harry). He had been approached by one charity organization which had something to do with the Mugglization of Squibs (whatever that meant), to play a Quidditch match with players from prominent teams from major Irish and British leagues. Harry had, of course, happily agreed. What he had not taken into account though, was the pitch, which had the formidable capacity of hosting about 90,000 witches and wizards, being mobbed by angry crowd who had not been lucky enough to secure the tickets for that game. A stampede that had ensued during the ongoing game had claimed the life of more than a thousand witches and wizards including some of the children. And that was the last time Harry had ever played professional Quidditch. His fame (or infamy) had literally robbed him of any chances of playing his favorite sport with some of the best players of the game.

But now that Harry found himself in a new world, new doors opened for him. He could finally play quidditch with the rest of the world! Of course, that was if he could pass the trial that is.

After his performance at the tryouts, the coach of the Chudley Cannons, one Ross Villager had approached him and had asked him to a stay for a much more private Seeker tryouts for the Chudley Cannons.

"Of course I will stay.. But, you will have to provide for lunch!" Harry had agreed on that condition. The coach agreed too. After all, it was only fair to provide a man with food when one asked him to stay for the afternoon.

After a rather sumptuous meal at the buffet for both him as well as Snape, Harry found himself at a different Quidditch pitch than before. Apparently, the advertised trial could not be abandoned.

"This is Nimbus 83. The state of the art. Your further trials would be conducted with this broom, Mr. Flamel," Ross said.

Harry accepted the broom and casually examined it.

"Much better than that last junk of a broom," he remarked.

"Ah yes, the old Comet 30. Forgive us for that. With the type of people that turned up for the tryouts, we thought it would not be prudent not to bring out the more recent brooms. Not like that stopped you though," Ross remarked.

Harry smiled at that. Severus, who somehow too was present at the pitch raised his eyebrows. He hadn't been present at the initial tryout and had missed Harry's performance (one of the reason that Harry dragged him to this one).

"So, let us begin then," Harry said.

With that, the second (and actual) trial began. Curiously, Harry was not alone in this one. With him was one Tommy Randal, seeker of Chudley junior division. He too was trying out for the position.

Tommy looked mildly irritated at having to do a try out. Considering that before Harry's demonstration, his position at the team was more or less confirmed, his being miffed was justified too.

"Alright boys, take to the air on my whistle. We will begin with five laps around the pitch."

Five laps around the stands were pretty standard for any position. On the coach's whistle, the two of them took off from the ground and began circling the pitch.

For the first lap, Harry merely tried out this new broom to get a feel. This time, he needed only a single lap for that. By the end of the first lap, Tommy was slightly ahead of him. But that all changed when Harry finished his lap. He pumped his magic to the broom and urged it to speed up. His instant change acceleration promptly gave him the lead, which only increased with each passing moment.

His curves were fluid and graceful and he even managed to perform some exotic moves on the broom, not to mention he finished the last lap upside down while his opponent Tommy was on the start of his fourth lap.

"Fantastic!" the coach Ross cried out. Even Tommy couldn't help himself but be impressed at Harry's speed and performance.

"I would have never thought that the Nimbus could pick up that speed and still remain maneuverable!" Tommy said in a daze.

"You are partially right there," Harry said, "It's a pain to turn it at those speed. It takes quite the skill."

The way he said suggested a hint of arrogance, but Harry couldn't help bragging a little. He was just having that much fun.

"Alright, the next drill then."

The next drill entailed bludgers. Lots of them. This drill was quite simple though. They had to dodge the bludgers while catching a small ball like projectile hurled from one end of the pitch by the pitch officials. Thirty such balls were banished at different parts of the pitch. Harry moved his broom swiftly, dancing between the incoming bludgers and managed to catch twenty five of the balls at the end. He would have caught even more but he was taking it easy.

Learning from the failure of the early Comet, Harry was constantly suppressing his magic to not break the broom. As such, his broom speed was comparable to one Nimbus 1995 at the moment. Still, at times he would lose his focus and end up accelerating his brooms to speed comparable to the Nimbus 2000. This was a problem but for the life of him, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He was enjoying this trial and any worrying would have to come later.

As the drill ended, Tommy was now pretty sure that his opponent was way out of his league. Hell, if he did not qualify for the position then Tommy didn't know who could.

"Amazing Mr. Flamel!" The coach said with a wide grin, "that was some pretty good flying you did there!"

"Thanks coach!" Harry smiled, "Tommy flew well too. Still, you grip your broom a little tightly while turning right. Handle that one problem and you'd fly even well!"

Tommy smiled a little. He didn't know about that flaw and even his coach hadn't spotted it. But, it looked like a good advice and Tommy would certainly work on it.

"Thanks Mr. Flamel," Tommy said good naturedly.

Harry grinned. He had worried that the kid would be a little bitter due to Harry outperforming him but evidently that was not the case. He did feel a little bad about snatching his assured position but Harry decided he would make it up to the kid some time later. "Now let's go for the last drill shall we?" He said while looking at the coach.

"No need for that," Tommy said, "I forfeit, coach. Mr. Flamel is clearly superior than me. I recommend him for the position."

Ross beamed. He too was convinced after the second tryout that this was one player that the Cannons absolutely couldn't afford to lose. And he also worried that Tommy wouldn't take the news of his rejection lightly but as he himself offered up the seat, things became a lot easier for Ross.

"Alright, good decision Tommy. But don't you worry. We will certainly consider you for the reserve position, Gudgeon is getting old after all."

Ross then turned towards Harry, "Mr. Flamel, we will draw a contract in a few minutes. You can go over it and tomorrow we can sign as well as finalize your position on the Cannons. Unofficially, I welcome you to Chudley Cannons as seeker. Congratulations!"

"Thanks coach. I will meet you tomorrow then. Also, please do me a favor and do not alert the press about you hiring a new seeker, okay? I just don't want too much attention."

"Of course, Mr. Flamel. We'll do that. See you tomorrow then. And once again, congratulations. I am sure that with you in the team, we have a legit shot at winning the league."

And with that, their meeting was concluded. Harry waited for a while for the contract that the Cannons had drawn. It came only a while later. They had just replaced Tommy's name and made a few alterations. With a seeker contract in tow, Harry walked out with Snape in tow.

Albus Percivial Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was pacing up and down in his office. Normally, the old headmaster was the epitome of a calm and patient wizard. With a solid occlumency to organize his mind, there were only a few things that could unsettle him, Dark Lords being one of them.

Albus had a bit of bad luck when it came to Dark Lords. Two prominent Dark Lords had emerged during his life and he had come to face off with both of them, defeating one of them and fending off the other for more than a few times. Of course, this shouldn't be anything surprising considering that he himself was a powerful wizard and people looked up to him to do something about mad wizards hell bent on controlling the entire magical population but really, why couldn't powerful wizards just mind their own business and spend their life in peace and take a teaching position at a reputable institution and become old and barmy just like him. Why must they go Dark? Moreover, why must they rampage in his continent. Continents like Asia, Africa, hell, even Australia sounded more exotic and more in taste for wizards of a Dark nature. At least then Albus wouldn't have to go out of his way to fight with them. Alas, life was never that simple.

Dumbledore's reason for pacing up and down today wasn't really any Dark Wizard though. Due to one self fulfilling prophecy, Tom had gone and incapacitated himself while trying to kill the little Neville Longbottom and the wizarding Britain was finally gaining some semblance of peace. Hogwarts was flourishing with the influx of students from all over the world, Death Eaters were more or less neutralized, Quidditch leagues were about to start.. All in all, life was almost becoming normal again. Well, there were a few abnormalities of course. Like the sudden miraculous healing of one Lily Potter. The poor woman who had been Crucioed to the brink of insanity. However, that was a happy abnormality and far be it from Albus to meddle his old nose to something that had brought love back into the life of one of his trusted Order member (even if he was burning from curiosity over the possible causes of it). No, that was not the abnormality that had Albus scared for the first in many years. It was rather the news from the Department of Mysteries.

Approximately eighteen hours ago the DoM had registered a massive surge of magic that had threatened the stability of reality itself. In a swift move from the usually bureaucratic ministry (perhaps due to DoM being involved), teams of aurors as well as some unspeakables had been dispatched to the site only to let the perpetrators get away from their hands. From the memories of some of the aurors (which DoM had reluctantly shared with the Chief Warlock), Dumbledore had seen the apparition of the aurors and the instant conjuration of one magical shield that Dumbledore had not thought was possible. Gold shield, really?

Still, even if he didn't know the type of shield, he had an idea about the magic prowess required to conjure something that could withhold dozens of strong curses hurled by the most competent of the Aurors (some even bordering in a Dark territory). Only seconds after that, the shield and both of the perpetrators had vanished right under the nose of that many Aurors. That in itself was a shame for the DMLE, but what was even more ridiculous was that the Aurors had found no sign of any magical transport phenomenon. Even Dumbledore, while travelling via Fawkes' apparition, would leave some trace of his magic (not to mention a lot of soot), so essentially the lack of any magical trace meant that the perpetrators had vanished from existence. Not only had they enough power to block continuous barrage of Auror spells but they also had a method to vanish themselves from reality. This could only spell trouble for the old headmaster, hence, his cause for worry.

Dumbledore was abruptly stopped from his pacing by the appearance of a rather meek looking house elf.

"Yes, Tanny?" Dumbledore tried asking with his kindest voice but it increased the shivering of the poor creature.

"Your professorship sir, I is bringing you a letter," the elf said and then deposited the three letters at his desk. Due to his office being inaccesible to owls, his mail often were intercepted at the owlery and then delivered by house elves.

Dumbledore dismissed the house-elf, wondering over whether his beard made him look more intimidating to the house elves, and then picked up the letters to read.

"Hmm.. Cornelius writes again," he eyed the letter with a tad bit of irritation. The newly appointed minister was beginning to get on his nerves with the number of letters that he was sending to him including advice for whether white toiletries would be a better fit for the minister bathrooms (really?). Tossing the letter to one of his not-important stack where he may or may not read it later, Dumbledore shuffled over other letters. Wizengamont session invitation, Witch weekly's monthly subscription (his one guitly pleasure), and oh, what was this? A letter by one Severus Snape! The last time that the headmaster had talked to his former student, Snape had insisted for some time to himself before agreeing to teach "dunderheads". Albus had given him the time, of course. The man was visibly distraught over the unfortunate incident with Lily Potter.

He opened the letter and read its contents.

Headmaster,

I wish to meet you at your earliest convenience to discuss the employment terms that you had offered me (of course, only if the offer stands still). Owl me with your reply.

SS

Dumbledore smiled over that letter. He quickly penned a reply asking for Severus to meet him tomorrow and dispatched it with another house elf, all the while thinking about the odds of Lily Potter recovering and Severus Snape applying for the position he'd avoided for so long after a short while. Looking underneath the underneath was Dumbledore's forte afterall.