The only person to show up at next year's interview is Severus Snape. He looks genuinely hopeful. Before he can even step in the door, Albus declares, "I'm going on a trip!"

"Albus—"

"A holiday, if you will."

"Please, I only ask that you—"

"I'll be in England for the foreseeable future. We can conduct your interview upon my return!"

"Albus!"

Too late. Albus has already bounded out of the establishment. It's time to go professor hunting.

He finds Remus Lupin living in a hovel in Yorkshire. His clothes are tattered, his face gaunt, but yet he still has the energy to slam his door in Albus's face.

"Remus!" Albus calls. "I just want to talk!"

"I thought I made myself clear! I will not be taking on the Defense position, even if you beg me!" Remus yells through the door. "Unless you want to talk about something more pleasant, do leave me alone!"

"It'll be steady employment—"

"I'll befall horrible misfortune before the year is over!"

"You'll be able to teach Harry!"

"The last thing that boy needs in his life is a werewolf who will try to murder him every month!"

"All things considered, that would be an exceptional improvement when compared to his previous professors."

"Leave, Headmaster!"

Desperately grasping for something to use as leverage, he suddenly bursts out, "I'll provide you with a steady supply of the Wolfsbane Potion for as long as you're a professor at Hogwarts! For free!" Considering the state of Remus's home, he assumes that the poor man cannot afford to buy the potion himself, and neither does he have the skills to harvest and brew it. Severus, though…yes, Severus can do it easily.

There's silence on the other side of the door. Then, Remus yanks it open and stares at him intently. Albus knows that the man doesn't know how to use Legillimecy but he occludes, anyway. Remus eventually croaks out, "Are you willing to put that in a magically binding contract?"

Albus lets out a sigh of relief. "Of course."

And, just like that, Albus has acquired a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor…at least for the next year.

Severus stares at him faintly. "So this is not an interview?"

"No—I happened to stumble upon the perfect candidate while on holiday in Yorkshire!"

"Right," mutters Severus. He sighs. "Well, what do you need from me, then?"

"I need you to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for the new professor for the entirety of the next school year." He pauses. "Or less, depending on just how shitty our luck is."

Severus asks, "Albus, did you hire a werewolf to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yep."

"And who is this werewolf?" Severus asks dangerously.

"I do believe you know him. Does Remus Lupin ring a bell?"

"Albus, did you hire the werewolf that nearly ate me to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Um, is that what happened? Surely that's not what happened—"

"You literally had to talk me out of pressing charges!" Severus fumes. "You bribed me with potion ingredients!"

"Well, you accepted!"

Severus groans. He takes a moment to organize his thoughts, then says, "Let me get this straight—you want me to spend an entire year brewing the Wolfsbane Potion for the werewolf who was not only best friends with my childhood bullies, but who also nearly killed me when I was sixteen…and you expect me to do so perfectly and without malice."

"I'm sure you could do it with malice," Albus allows. "Just don't poison him or anything."

Severus stares. And stares. And stares. Then, he says, "I am not paying for the ingredients."

"Of course not—it will come out of the school budget!"

Severus's eyes narrow. "I thought you said Lucius doesn't let you touch school funds anymore."

Right. "Well, I'll figure something out, anyway."

He ends up paying for it himself, which is—fine. As long as the fucking Defense post is filled, everything is fine.

"Headmaster," says Remus through a Floo call, "my evil ex just escaped from prison. My evil ex is going to try to murder my best friend's son—who just so happens to be my aforementioned evil ex's godson—the same way he murdered my other best friend and left behind nothing but a finger."

"Don't you think you're being a tad bit dramatic, Remus?"

"Thirteen dead in a single night!" Remus yells. "Fifteen, if you count James and Lily! Sirius goddamn Black has never done anything halfway in his life and he will not stop now! He is going to try to kill Harry!"

"He wouldn't be the first."

"Headmaster—"

"Right, right, my apologies! And don't fret, the Ministry has this handled."

"I wouldn't trust the Ministry to handle an egg, much less Harry's life! What is their grand plan, anyway?"

Albus mutters it out. Remus demands, "What?"

Albus says, "They're sending dementors to guard the school."

Silence. Then, Remus shrieks, "Albus!"

Ah, yes, there it is—it seems Remus has finally broken the habit of referring to him respectfully. Every teacher has done it eventually, though Severus held out for the longest, probably because his life and freedom were literally in Albus's hands. That's beside the point, though. Immediately, Albus placates, "I'm doing my best to ensure there are strict boundaries on where the dementors can and cannot enter. I've already tried to get them to not send those vile creatures at all, but they won't be swayed. Rest assured, I am doing damage control."

"You better, you senile old bastard!"

Rude.

"Albus," says Minerva somewhat shiftily, "I have a request."

Albus brightens. Minerva has always been so prim and proper and she has never, not once, asked anything of him beyond his usual duties. This finally gives him an opportunity to pay her back. "Of course," he says cheerfully. "What do you need?"

"Well, I have this student, you see, and she's coming into her Third Year. She's brilliant and she would love to take on as many electives as possible—"

"That's certainly admirable."

"Yes, well—she wants to take all of them."

Albus pauses. "All of them?"

"All of them."

"I'm not entirely sure that's possible…" It is very, very not possible. "I would be happy to provide her with the materials to self-study if she chooses."

"No, she is very adamant about taking all the courses at Hogwarts."

"…I must be honest, I have no idea how to help you."

"I know how," declares Minerva. And then she explains her idea, which is just—

"A time turner? Minerva, isn't this a bit—"

"Please, Albus—when have I ever asked you for anything?"

Godammit.

And so, a dangerous and highly experimental artifact ends up in the hands of a thirteen-year-old.

"Come again?" Albus asks faintly.

A Ministry official shifts nervously in front of him. "Er, Harry Potter has performed underage magic and has been deemed in need of discipline. When Ministry personnel went to collect him from his home, they found that he'd been missing for at least an hour."

"So you're telling me," Albus says, "that Harry Potter is missing while famed mass-murderer Sirius Black—who all but killed his parents!—is on the loose and the Ministry's answer to this is coming to me for help?"

The Ministry official quakes. "W-What do you want me to do, sir?"

"Get me the fucking Minister!"

As if Albus is going to allow this situation to continue. He's already dug himself into a hole in regards to the boy so there's no choice left but to double down.

Luckily, the boy has the sense to take the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron and the Minister has the sense to fix this issue before the public (and Albus) eviscerates him.

"—ON THE FUCKING TRAIN, ALBUS? YOU PROMISED!"

"I'VE ALREADY SENT LITERAL DEATH THREATS TO THE MINISTRY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT MORE YOU WANT FROM ME!"

"TO GET UP OFF YOUR ASS AND DO SOMETHING—"

"The dementors," Albus announces to the entire student body, "are not allowed onto school grounds."

"They weren't allowed on the train, either," mutters Remus, so quietly that only the teachers' table hears him, and they all manage to keep a straight face—except Severus, who lets out a shocked snort before immediately covering it up with a cough.

Very smooth.

Albus stares at the weeping boy and then the weeping giant. He makes eye contact with Poppy, who simply sighs and goes back to treating Draco Malfoy. Albus turns to Hagrid. "You didn't mean for it to happen," soothes Albus.

"I should've been more careful," sobs Hagrid. Albus must agree but Hagrid is clearly very upset so he can get admonished later—what he needs right now is emotional support. Unfortunately, Albus is very bad at emotional support. He does his best to calm Hagrid down while desperately searching for someone with a better bedside manner.

The only other person in the room is Severus.

Albus decides to take his chances.

"He's doing it just to spite me," mutters Albus. "What's the point in putting down a hippogriff as if every other hippogriff isn't the exact same? Lucius just wants to punish me…"

"Maybe this is his way of getting back at you for hiring a werewolf," Remus offers.

Albus slumps into his seat. "No, no, that can't be," he explains, "because Lucius doesn't know that you're a werewolf."

Remus pauses. Stares. Then, he asks, "Are you telling me that you hired me, a werewolf, to teach children and you didn't think to mention it to the Board of Governors?" Remus comes to a stand and starts pacing. "No, no, I have a question—how did I get this position, anyway? The fact that I'm a werewolf isn't common knowledge but I'm registered with the Ministry! If Lucius Malfoy looked into it, surely he would find out! Did they hire me anyway?"

"Oh. Well, you see, the thing about the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is that it needs to be refilled regularly and all the members of the Hogwarts Board also have full-time careers so meeting so frequently is simply impossible for them. In an effort to speed things up, I've been awarded the ability to appoint professors at my discretion without having to run it by the Board. It's very convenient for everyone involved. As such, Lucius has no reason to look into your files at the Ministry—I doubt he even knows your first name."

"That sounds incredibly irresponsible," Remus says skeptically.

"What do you mean? My decision-making is quite sound!"

"Before I began working here I would agree, but now I'm not so sure."

Fair enough.

"That can't be healthy," Remus says, gesturing vaguely.

Albus, who is half asleep and very drunk, slurs, "What?"

"The thing we were talking about! With Mr. Longbottom and the Boggart! How could his largest fear be Severus? Sure he's a nightmare to be around—don't tell him I said that—but he's not scary!"

Albus thinks, then remembers the whole ordeal with the Boggart. "Well," he says, "children are scared of odd things. And a Boggart isn't necessarily someone's largest fear overall—merely their largest fear at the moment. Perhaps dear Neville had a run-in with Severus before attending your class and it made an impression."

"That's still alarming!" hisses Remus. "A teacher shouldn't be any student's biggest fear!"

"My biggest fear back when I was at Hogwarts was Headmaster Black," Albus says thoughtfully. "It changed later but…well, I was terrified of that man. Still am, a bit."

From somewhere on the office walls, a portrait with the croaky voice of Phineas Nigellus Black declares, "As you should be! You were a slimy little brat then and you're a slimy little brat now!"

"I'm a hundred and twelve!"

Phineas, who had only lived to be seventy-eight, says, "Practically a child!"

"Phineas, please!"

"I have half a mind to make you scrub the trophy room again!"

Albus, having had enough of the portrait, turns back to Remus. "He did that to me once. It was completely uncalled for, too. I'd done nothing wrong!"

Phineas says, "You were seriously and legitimately planning a political insurrection!"

"Being involved in politics is the mark of any good citizen."

"You were thirteen!"

Remus squints at the two of them, perplexed, but says nothing, seemingly too befuddled to make sense of the situation. "Anyway," he mumbles, "I'm going to talk to Severus about proper teaching methods."

Albus snorts. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Why don't you discipline him?"

Albus scoffs. Discipline Severus Snape? No man on earth has that kind of power…

"You should probably know that Sybill has predicted Mr. Potter's death," Minerva announces gravely.

Albus doesn't even look up from his paperwork. "How awful. How many times is that now?"

"Seventeen, if I kept count correctly."

"Eighteen," Severus interrupts, walking into the room. "I caught the woman having a fit in the hallway. Something about old age and being surrounded by children."

"Well, that's not so bad."

"The children were the ones who murdered him."

"Oh…"

"Halloween," moans Albus. "Why is it always Halloween? I loved Halloween as a child! And now I can't go thinking about it without thinking of mass murderers and trolls and death!"

Severus says, "Shut up. My childhood bully has broken into my place of employment to kill one of my students. You're not special."

Remus says, "My ex-boyfriend has broken into my place of employment to kill my late best friend's son—oh, and he also killed my late best friend. I am special."

And how is anyone supposed to respond to that?

Albus scowls and silently starts the necessary paperwork to repair the Fat Lady's portrait.

"It's Lupin!" spits Severus.

"Why would Lupin help his ex-boyfriend break into the castle?" asks Albus, exasperated. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't give any of my exes the time of day."

Severus stares, suddenly less enraged and more shocked. "You've been in relationships?"

"I'm a hundred and twelve, of course I've dated people! What, you thought I was some virginal old man who only had eyes for the education of his students?"

Severus stares. Albus is under the impression that the answer is an unequivocal Yes. Albus frowns at Severus, feeling a bit betrayed—that was a direct hit on his ego and he may never recover. He kind of wants to defend himself further but he also doesn't want to admit to any of his past dalliances.

Albus says, "I think you should leave."

Severus slowly nods. Then, clearing his throat, he croaks out, "Right. Er—I'm not done talking to you. But I'll come back…later…" And then he flees, looking vaguely nauseous.

What an asshole.

"Severus is a little bitch," hisses Remus, slamming a stack of parchment onto Albus's desk. Albus, who had been dealing with his own stack of parchment, glares up at him.

"What happened?"

"You know how I agreed to let him substitute for me? You remember how I said that it was fine because surely, surely, he wouldn't do anything untoward? Guess what! He decides it's up to him to teach my students about werewolves and then assign an essay on how to identify them. What the actual fuck, Albus? Why did you greenlight that lesson plan?"

Albus stares at Remus, then at the papers. He has absolutely no recollection of signing off on an entire class on werewolves. He desperately searches his memories, ravaging his mind palace until—ah. Yes. Severus had simply slipped the lesson plan onto Albus's desk right next to some forms for ordering extra potion ingredients. Albus had signed without even looking at it, just as he had done for over a decade.

"Er," says Albus, trying to put this in a way that doesn't sound incredibly negligent, "you see…"

Remus does not, in fact, see. The only reason he doesn't punch Albus in the face is that Albus is his boss. Severus, however, has no such protections.

…After the stunt he pulled, that's his problem, though.

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID THE DEMENTORS WEREN'T ALLOWED ON SCHOOL GROUNDS!"

"THEY AREN'T!"

"THEN WHY THE FUCK IS HARRY IN THE INFIRMARY?"

"APPARENTLY THE SCHOOL GROUNDS HAVE A HEIGHT LIMIT—"

"It's cursed," whispers Minerva.

Severus nods. "Definitely cursed."

Albus and Remus make tired eye contact. Albus says, "Now, there's no reason to—"

"Who just randomly gifts insanely expensive brooms to children?" Minerva demands.

At this, Severus whips around to stare at her. "You do!"

"Well, I'm a professor, so it's fine. I certainly didn't send Mr. Potter this broom, though." She turns to Remus. "Did you?"

"Well, no, but—"

"There!" she says. "It must have been sent to Mr. Potter by Sirius Black! Severus agrees with me! We'll be looking it over for any dark enchantments."

"Isn't that Remus's domain?" asks Albus, amused.

"The broom seems fine to me," Remus says after a quick glance.

"You didn't even examine it!" fumes Severus. "I bet you want Potter to run afoul of its magic, just like you want him to get caught by Black when you let him into the castle!"

Albus pales. "Um, Severus—"

Remus takes the opportunity to pounce on Severus and, mere moments later, they're clawing viciously at each other on the floor. Minerva sniffs, unimpressed, and declares, "I'll examine the broom myself!" She stalks out of the room with it, hopping over her oblivious colleagues.

Albus puts his face in his hands. How is this his life?

Severus and Remus are refusing to talk to each other. No, they're refusing to even look at each other. Minerva, meanwhile, is pacing the length of his office, muttering to herself.

"Longbottom," she murmurs. "I thought he was the good boy. I was so sure after he tried to turn Mr. Potter and his friends in during their First Year…and now!"

"Speak for yourself," spits Severus. "He nearly killed us all the first day in my class and he's been doing nothing but melting cauldrons since. Yesterday he managed to burn water. I was almost impressed."

Albus looks at them all critically and tries to decide which of them would be best to comfort a traumatized Ron Weasely. Severus is obviously out of the running—he'd probably just make the poor boy cry—and Minerva looks ready to rip Neville Longbottom's head off so Albus hesitates to allow her near children. Remus it is.

When he asks Remus to do it, he throws Albus a vicious glare and storms out of the room, as if this is somehow his fault.

"He's upset that Black didn't manage to do it," Severus says.

Albus brings out a bottle of brandy.

The public is demanding that someone be punished for this serious transgression in security. Mrs. Weasley sends him a Howler demanding to know how he could dare to let her son be left at the mercy of a knife-wielding maniac.

Albus fires the portrait that let Sirius Black in and calls it a day.

Remus corners him after dinner one day. "Er, Headmaster," he says meekly, "I have something that is probably of great importance…"

Albus freezes. The last time someone on his staff called him 'Headmaster' when they weren't around students was when Hooch had stood by while a student fell off a broom and broke their back. No one calls him 'Headmaster' unless they've monumentally fucked up and remembered that Albus is, technically, their boss and that he has the power to ruin them.

Albus leads him to his office and sits him down, handing him a sherbet lemon. Remus is so anxious that he actually accepts it.

"What's the matter, my boy?" asks Albus in the kindest tone he can muster. It's easier to get people to confess their sins when he's pretending to be their grandfather.

Remus reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ratty piece of parchment which he lays on the desk. Albus inspects it, confused, but then Remus also pulls out his wand, presses the parchment, and says, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

The parchment immediately bursts to life, unfolding itself to show a detailed map of Hogwarts along with an accurate animation of where everyone is. Albus stares at it, caught between wonder and horror. He rasps, "Is this a recent creation of yours?"

"No," whispers Remus. "My friends and I made it while we were at Hogwarts."

Albus goes cold. "By friends, you mean…"

"James, Peter…and Sirius Black."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—

"Is there any way he could recreate this?" Albus demands.

"No, the magic is too complex and none of us were really sure how we managed it in the first place. We each put a little piece in it, you see."

"Right," says Albus. "Well, I'm glad that you've entrusted it to me. I trust that you've had it safely hidden away?"

"Actually…"

Oh Merlin.

It turns out that Filch had confiscated the damn thing and then kept it in his office where the Weasley twins managed to nab it. Then, in their infinite wisdom, they decided not to turn it in and to instead gift it to Harry Potter. In some ways, it makes sense, of course—now Harry will always know whether or not Sirius Black is nearby. On the other hand, if Sirius Black got his hands on this thing…

"Well," Albus says faintly. "At least we're certain that Black hasn't acquired it."

"There's more."

Of course there's more. Albus smiles weakly. "Do continue."

"Well, I got it from Harry, you see, but before he left, he told me that he saw someone on the map that should be dead. He told me that he saw Peter Pettigrew apparently walking around the halls of Hogwarts. I got curious so I looked into it and—and I saw him, too! But I could never catch him! And I know he's not a ghost because ghosts don't show up on the Map!"

Albus is trying to process the information that Pettigrew isn't dead. "All right," he says. "Perhaps he's disillusioned?"

Now Remus looks manic. "No, no, that's the other thing I've been wanting to tell you ever since I got here—I've just been far too scared. Severus noticed how anxious I was and he…he thought I was going to help a murderer, but I would never! You see, I'm quite sure that Peter wasn't disillusioned because he's never been too good at illusionary magic of any kind. I think he's actually a rat!"

"A rat," Albus repeats skeptically.

"Yes! When we were at Hogwarts, I would go to the Shrieking Shack on full moons, remember? James, Peter, and Sirius—they were such good friends. They didn't want to leave me to suffer all by myself so they all became animagi! James was a stag, Sirius was a dog, and Peter was a rat! Rats are small enough to scurry along the corridors and remain unnoticed but they still show up with their human names on the Map!" He smiles brightly. "Thus, Peter is still alive and is roaming the castle!"

Albus puts his head in his hands. "You knew that Sirius Black was an animagus," he says, pained, "and you didn't tell anyone?" How did they even get the opportunity to become animagi as teenagers? Surely he would have noticed!

"I was scared! I didn't—"

"Didn't what? What would have happened? Yes, no one was supposed to be around you while you were transformed, but that was my rule, not a law! You've committed no crime! And what could happen to the others? James Potter is dead, Sirius Black is already a criminal, and up until very recently, we were all sure that Peter Pettigrew was dead! What on earth is your justification?"

Remus scowls pettily.

Fucking Mauradars—too damn loyal for their own good.

Albus regroups. "Okay. Peter Pettigrew is alive. How does that change—" He pauses. "If he's alive…why didn't he show himself? Black was in Azkaban. There was no reason for him to fear…"

Remus leans closer. "Exactly. Why didn't he come to light? That's suspicious! Perhaps—perhaps everything isn't as it seems. Perhaps something else happened that night."

"What else could it be? Sirius Black was the Secret Keeper, we all know it. He had to give the secret to Voldemort. Pettigrew found out and chased him down. Sirius Black definitely killed all those muggles and believed that he killed Pettigrew—he confessed to it! Whatever Pettigrew's reasons were, nothing changes the facts." He leans over and puts a hand over Remus, comforting. "I understand that you care about Sirius dearly…but you must accept what's happened."

"No!" insists Remus. "Something isn't right! Something went horribly wrong that night, differently than we were led to believe! I know it!" He sounds like a conspiracy theorist.

Albus sighs. "You can know it all you want, but that changes nothing. I will, of course, be confiscating this map and spreading the word about Sirius Black's animagus form. Please get some rest, Remus. You look like you need it."

Remus leaves his office looking close to tears.

Goddammit.

Albus does not go to sleep. Instead, he pulls out the map and closely inspects every nook and cranny of it until he finally comes across Peter Pettigrew's name.

Nodding to himself, Albus immediately races down the corridors—silent as he can manage in order to not alert Pettigrew to his approach. Then, when he comes upon the name, he inspects the corners of the hallway until—success!

He reaches down and snatches up the rat.

It is, he realizes, Ron Weasley's rat, the one with the missing finger that Minerva has been complaining about. Apparently the poor boy is convinced that Hermione Granger's cat has eaten it.

He takes a squealing Pettigrew back to his office and promptly performs the Homorphus Charm and then he has a grown man sitting in his chair, smelling as if he hasn't taken a bath in a decade. Perhaps he hasn't if he's been cozying up with the Weasleys.

The first thing that comes out of Albus's mouth is, "Why were you pretending to be the pet of a thirteen-year-old?" Because honestly, what the fuck?

What he gets in response is desperate simpering and pleas for help to the point that he feels nauseous. With every new word, the more Albus is concerned that Remus was right and that something odd is going on. Finally, after running out of patience, Albus uses Legilimency on him. Pettigrew's Occlumency is…strong, actually, but not strong enough to withstand Albus's intrusion.

And then everything comes to light.

What the actual fuck?

When Remus walks into the office, it's teaming with Aurors. Peter Pettigrew is tied up on the floor. Albus beckons him forward. "I must offer you an apology, my boy," he murmurs. "You were right. Pettigrew here was the Secret Keeper for the Potters, not Sirius. Once Sirius had found out that Pettigrew betrayed them, he chased down Pettigrew, who ended up staging his own death, killing twelve muggles in the process. He's been in hiding ever since, afraid to face the wrath of his fellow Death Eaters."

Remus sits down heavily. He demands, "What happens now?"

"Pettigrew will be taken into Auror custody. Sirius Black's case will be re-examined and there is a good chance that he will be cleared of all charges. There does remain the small snag that he confessed to the crimes…however, as there is evidence that he was under the effects of excessive Cheering Charms during the arrest, it can be thrown out. I will see it through personally if I have to."

"Thank you," he says. "Thank you."

Severus remains skeptical. "Are you sure Black is innocent?" he demands.

"He is certainly innocent of the crimes he was imprisoned for, at least," says Albus.

Severus brightens. "So he still might be guilty of other crimes?"

"…Possibly."

Severus practically skips out of his office. Albus wonders if he's just made a terrible mistake.

…Meh, that's later him's problem.

They catch Sirius Black sneaking out of the Shrieking Shack—or, rather, Remus catches him, but that's beside the point. Thankfully, Sirius cooperates once he learns that he's been cleared of all charges (it had taken a while to push it through the Wizengamot but Albus isn't Chief Warlock for nothing).

He does seem very glum, though. "It's the rat," he says morosely to Albus, who did not ask and, quite frankly, couldn't care less. "You know, when I chased after Peter Pettigrew, I did it because I wanted to murder him. Or at least slightly maim him. And now I'm glad that my name was cleared and that he's finally been caught, but…Merlin, I just wish I could get my hands on him…" He sincerely means it, too.

Albus makes a mental note to not let Sirius within five feet of Pettigrew's prison cell, lest he earn a one-way ticket there, as well. Murdering prisoners is still murder.

Sirius and Harry seem to be getting along swimmingly. While Harry was, at first, understandably skeptical of Sirius, the moment Remus put in a good word, everything worked out. In fact, everything worked out so well that the rest of the staff was too busy observing the godfather and godson duo with affection (most everyone) or disdain (Severus) to remember something important.

Now, Albus is sweating. Standing across from him is a morose Ron Weasley. "I know it's not important," says Ron, shuffling his feet, "but Scabbers was a big part of my family, you know? We all loved him dearly—even Percy, and he's Percy. Hermione's adamant that Crookshanks didn't eat him but I still think he did but Hermione told me that I should at least ask a teacher before officially blaming the little beast so…well. Can you help me find Scabbers, sir?"

Oh dear. This won't be fun.

Buckbeak is scheduled to die. Hagrid is absolutely inconsolable so Albus, who seems to be the only one capable of comforting the man, offers to buy him a drink at Hogsmeade. By the time the Ministry officials show up, they're both well and truly smashed. Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge both scrunch their noses but, well, fuck them.

They all struggle to hold a conversation—Albus and Hagrid because they're staggeringly drunk, Lucius and Cornelius because they have never been in a hut before and are not enjoying the experience, and the executioner because his humor is a bit…well, dead—and Albus eventually gives up and stares off into the distance.

"What are you looking at?" slurs Hagrid.

"That is a very pretty mountain," says Albus. "Don't you love living in the Highlands?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Teeth grit, Lucius spits, "If we could get back to discussing the terms of the—"

"Look at the mountains, Lucius!"

"This is why professors aren't supposed to be drunk on the job!"

"It's the weekend."

Fudge breaks in. "Perhaps we should just go and get it over with. We can go over the paperwork later, when you're both…of sounder mind." Coward.

Albus and Hagrid both rise, gripping each other so that they don't fall. The effect is that they both nearly walk into the doorframe and spend a good three minutes attempting to shove themselves out of the doorway. Once they're out, Albus gets a better look at the landscape and cries, "That is a very pretty mountain! Don't you love living in the Highlands?"

Hagrid slurs, "Sir, yes, sir!"

Lucius finally screams, "You have had this exact same conversation six times! Can we please just—where's the hippogriff?"

Albus turns, squinting. Ah. The hippogriff is not there.

"Well," he says faintly, "that's something. Do I still need to fill out the paperwork?"

Cornelius sighs, looking exhausted. "Let's…let's just go, Mr. Malfoy."

The executioner, meanwhile, enraged at the lack of murder, decides to hack up the nearest vegetables.

In the forest, Albus sees a flash of movement from an intriguingly familiar figure.

…Hm.

He stumbles upon Harry, Ron, and Hermione Granger on his way back to the castle. They seem incredibly upset about something.

Hermione explains, "They've killed Buckbeak!"

"A true tragedy," slurs Albus.

Ron squints. "Are you all right, Professor?"

Harry, meanwhile, seems to recognize exactly what's going on and is glaring up at him fiercely. Whatever—that's Harry's problem. Albus is on holiday, for all intents and purposes. They can't say shit about it.

Albus says to Ron, "I'm very all right, Mr. Weasley. In fact, I'm so all right that I've been waxing philosophical. How short time is, how taxing. If only there was a way for us to go back and change the things we ought to change, save the ones we ought to save…" He throws a significant look at Hermione.

Hermione's eyes widen. "Oh! Yes, of course, Professor!"

Albus smiles and breezes (stumbles) past them because, you know, plausible deniability, and all that.

As he's heading up, he hears Harry say, "Are you sure we should be listening to him? He's not really all there, is he?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asks Ron.

"Didn't you smell him?"

"I did," says Hermione. "It was quite nice. My dad wears that cologne too, sometimes."

Harry's silence is at once incredulous and pitying. Albus decides to leave them to it.

"I want to live with Sirius," Harry says, arms crossed and a firm look on his face.

Albus stares. "How did you get into my office?"

"I kept guessing sweets until I found the password. The gargoyles found it very amusing."

Drat. Perhaps he ought to update his security measures. He says to Harry, "Well, I understand that you care for your godfather very much but you musn't let it overcome your better sense. Think of this from your godfather's perspective—"

"He already said yes."

"Does he even have a house?"

"Yes, his childhood home in London."

"That place hasn't been inhabited for years!"

"We'll fix it up together. Professor Lupin is moving in with us. They don't want to tell me why but I walked in on them making out so I think it's fairly obvious."

Albus decides to definitely not think about that. Instead, he says, "That's all well and good but what would your family think if you decided to stop living with them?" Harry has always had a good sense of empathy so surely this would work.

Harry snorts. "They couldn't care less about me, Headmaster. Did you really think they would? I mean, after the whole cupboard thing and the letter debacle…"

Albus has no idea what he's talking about. "Cupboard thing?" he questions.

Harry stares. "The cupboard," he says slowly. "The one I'd been forced to sleep in for eleven years. Professor McGonagall addressed the letter to the cupboard under the stairs! There is no way you didn't notice!"

"Harry," Albus says slowly, "the letters aren't handwritten by me or Professor McGonagall. They're magically generated by an enchanted quill. I did not know that you lived in a…a cupboard for most of your life." And honestly, what the fuck? "Please sit down, I suspect we have more to talk about. First of all, what is the letter debacle?"

Harry looks at him blankly, as if he's still trying to decide how to feel. He sits. He says, "My aunt and uncle wouldn't let me read my letter. They ripped up the first one and burned the next few. Then a bunch more started flying into the house—I'm talking hundreds—and they locked me in the cupboard twenty-four-seven instead of just for the night. And then they dragged us to some random town in the midlands but when the letters came there, too, they took me to a tower in the middle of a lake. That's where Hagrid met me. Surely he told you about the tower and the way my aunt and uncle were acting and talking about me?"

Ah—so that's why Hogwarts had a paper shortage in July 1991.

"Hagrid," says Albus, pained, "lives in a hut. A tower probably seemed normal to him. As for how your aunt and uncle acted—his own upbringing left much to be desired. He may not have seen it as concern-worthy when, to him, it was simply business as usual."

In a small, quiet voice, Harry whispers, "Oh."

Albus smiles kindly. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

For a moment, Harry is silent. Then, in a vicious rage, he says, "They would lock me inside at night—I told you that, but I'm telling you again. I couldn't go to the bathroom until morning. I didn't have new clothes until I went shopping for robes—all of my muggle clothes are my cousin's hand-me-downs, even though they can afford to buy my cousin as many new, expensive games as he wants. They make me do most of the cooking and cleaning at home. They told all the neighbors that I was a delinquent so none of the neighborhood kids want to be friends with me. I didn't have a single friend until I met Ron. My cousin and his friends have this thing called 'Harry Hunting' where they chase me down and beat me up and my aunt and uncle encourage it. When I accidentally use magic, they act like I did it on purpose and punish me. When I blew up my aunt last year, it was because she called me a runt and called my mother a bitch and they just laughed. And you know what they've been telling everyone? What their excuse was that I wasn't going to the same school as my cousin? They told everyone they met that I was going to St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys! And everyone believed them!"

Albus stares in horror. "Okay," he croaks, "I think we need to have a discussion…"

"I'm going to live with Sirius whether you want me to or not!" Harry fumes. "And anyway, what right do you have to stop me? You're just a teacher, not my guardian!"

Albus says placatingly, "I'm not going to make you do anything. I do ask that you hear me out, though. There are certain pros and cons that you have no way of knowing. I will lay them out for you so that you can make an informed decision."

"But I can still make the decision?"

"Of course." As if he'd begrudge the boy that much.

"Fine."

"So, you know as well as I that Voldemort will likely be making a come-back. When he does, you will undoubtedly be his first target. The thing about living with your aunt is that, as long as you live with her—or your cousin, I suppose—the sacrifice your mother made will protect you. The blood protections are ancient and more powerful than anyone would ever be able to erect. They will guarantee your safety from Voldemort and his followers as long as you reside there. If you live with your godfather and Professor Lupin, I know that they will do their best to protect you but they will never be able to set up wards powerful enough to rival the ones your mother's sacrifice provides. More than that, the Black family's ancestral home is well known in the pureblood community. Sirius's own brother was a Death Eater. It makes you much more vulnerable."

Harry seems to take this seriously. He considers his options for several minutes, during which time Albus silently places a bowl of sweets between them for Harry to munch on.

Finally, Harry says, "I understand that living with my aunt would provide me absolute protection…but I can't go back there. It's awful. I'm surrounded by people who don't care about me in a place that gives me nothing but bad memories. I'm treated like trash by the people I call my family. I can't do it again."

And Albus says, "Okay."

He needs to contact Sirius about #12 Grimmauld Place—perhaps there will never be protections as absolute as a mother's sacrifice, but Albus will sure as fuck do his best to meet them.

Remus quits on the last day of term.

"Why?" asks Albus, flabbergasted. "You're in one piece. Your reputation is pristine. You have committed no crime and you certainly aren't being possessed by Voldemort." He grabs the man by the shoulders. "Please stay. You are quite literally the best Defense teacher Hogwarts has had in a decade."

"That says less about me and more about the quality of Defense teachers," mutters Remus. "And besides, I didn't want to be a professor in the first place. Now that Sirius is free…I would like to spend more time with him. Much more time."

"You're moving in with him! Isn't that enough?"

"I'm not keeping a job that will leave me a country away for the majority of the year. That's no way to be a family."

What the fuck.

"So that's it, then?" demands Albus. "You're abandoning me?"

"Seems like it."

"What about the Wolfsbane? If you renew your contract, you'll have another year of free potions."

Remus laughs. "Haven't you heard? My boyfriend is Sirius Black. Between the reparations the Ministry paid him and the fortune already sitting in the Black family vaults, there's enough money for me to buy Wolfsbane for the next three lifetimes." He smiles and cheerfully bids him adieu before prancing off.

Albus puts his face in his hands and screams.

A/N: i wasn't kidding when i said there would be canon divergence in this chapter. and the next chapter is somewhere around the 10k mark so you can look forward to that

also harry's characterization just Came To Me. i think having him play the straight man is phenomenally funny.

if you liked this, please FAVORITE, FOLLOW, and REVIEW!