-:-:-:-:-:-
If you ain't got nothing good to say
don't say nothing at all
-:-:-:-:-:-
Severus soon found himself in the unenviable position of needing to have a conversation with a dead man. Luckily, the dead man in question had a highly intelligent portrait. Unluckily, that portrait was hung in a school whose inhabitants would not be pleased to see Severus. At least he could enter the castle grounds using the portal Dumbledore had made for him. Still, in retrospect, it would have been easier to have another portrait of Dumbledore painted.
It was too late for that now. He stole into the castle grounds at night on the weekend-it was cliché, but it was his best chance of avoiding detection. The front doors opened to him, but he didn't go directly to the Headmaster's Office. Instead, he climbed up to the seventh-floor corridor, and paced in front of a blank stretch of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.
I need to sneak into Dumbledore's office, he thought with each pass. After the third repetition, a plain wooden door formed in front of him. When he opened it, it revealed a narrow passageway lit with torches. Severus followed it as it led him down winding staircases and twisting turns. When he finally came to a door, he hesitated behind it. But he heard no voices on the other side, and so slipped silently through and found himself in a dark corner of Dumbledore's old office. He could see from his vantage point that the office was empty. He sighed in relief, and stepped into the office proper.
"Severus!" a voice cried from behind him. "It's good to see you, my friend! I didn't know my office had an entrance on that side!"
Dumbledore's voice was loud and carried; Severus slipped back into the shadows on instinct.
"Oh, there's no need for the cloak and dagger routine," another portrait said. "The office has been sealed until such time as the Board of Governors appoints a new head."
Severus hadn't thought of that. He'd imagined that Minerva would have already moved in.
"Which makes me wonder how you were able to enter," Dumbledore said.
"I needed to," Severus replied.
"Most interesting!" Dumbledore said, clearly delighted.
"Very much so!" said yet another portrait. "We've been quite bored, you see. We've been sleeping most of the time, which gets quite tiring, even for portraits, and -"
Severus interrupted. "I needed to speak to you directly, Headmaster."
At least a dozen portraits said in unison, "Concerning what?"
Dumbledore's portrait looked at Severus and smiled. "I'm afraid that about half of us respond to that title, Severus. I assume you mean to speak to me?"
Severus found himself wishing more than ever that he had his own portrait of Dumbledore. The two men had had many private conversations in this very room, and Severus had never considered that the walls were listening. Of course, before...Before...the portraits had been loyal to Dumbledore. Their loyalty now was in question.
He needed to proceed with more caution than usual.
"The plan succeeded," he said carefully. "But I cannot rest on my laurels. To gain the trust of my associates, I need more." It was as much as he was willing to say. In order to remain useful as Dumbledore's agent, he needed to maintain his status as the Dark Lord's spy. To this end, he'd already told the Dark Lord that he had a confidential informant-he begged to let it remain secret, but he'd let the image of Aberforth Dumbledore to the front of his mind-and the Dark Lord had seemed pleased. Severus had picked Aberforth deliberately: the Dark Lord understood the betrayal of a family member, and would be so pleased at the betrayal of Albus's own brother that he wouldn't question motives.
But now he needed to somehow get real information from his false confidential informant.
Dumbledore nodded. "You will have to give the correct date of Harry's departure from his aunt and uncle's," he said, and Severus blanched at the portrait's bald declaration in front of so many witnesses-never mind the actual content of Dumbledore's suggestion.
"I had not intended to gamble so much, Dumbledore," he said. However, there weren't too many things he could do that would work better to solidify his position as a loyal Death Eater. After all, he had already murdered Dumbledore. To turn over the Boy Who Lived on top of that? He supposed he should go big or go home.
"Not to do so will raise suspicion, when Voldemort believes you so well informed," Dumbledore pointed out. He then outlined appropriate safety measures, and Severus had to admit it could work.
But he didn't like having the conversation in front of the other portraits. He supposed that the portrait of Dumbledore was Dumbledore enough to be discreet, but he still worried what would happen when Minerva was officially named Headmistress and the portraits became loyal to her. He never spoke with Dumbledore explicitly about the next school year, but they both supposed that the Dark Lord would have enough clout on the Board of Governors to ensure that Severus was hired back on as a professor, most likely for Potions again. Minerva was the obvious candidate for Headmistress, and it was best all around if she continued to outwardly distrust Severus. The only way someone like Minerva could outwardly distrust Severus was if she inwardly distrusted him as well, so he didn't need the portraits blabbing all his secrets to her on her first day in office.
Unfortunately, he couldn't confront Dumbledore with his fears; not in front of the other portraits. So he took his leave without breathing a word of his concerns. As he faded into the dark corner, and reached for a door that hadn't existed before tonight, Dumbledore called out to him, "I expect we'll be seeing more of you soon, Severus!"
That was unlikely, as Severus had no intention of sneaking back in, but he nodded anyway.
Back in Spinner's End, it occurred to him that his conversation with Dumbledore was his most open conversation with anyone since he'd killed the man, and even so, he couldn't shed all subterfuge because of all the other dead people listening in.
He decided he was well and truly paranoid.
But later, on the night when he turned over information which might lead to the death of Harry Potter, he watched the Dark Lord claim Lucius Malfoy's wand and use it to murder Charity Burbage. On that night, he decided he wasn't nearly paranoid enough. ("Severus...please," she'd said, just like Dumbledore. "Severus...please.") And then the Dark Lord sent Nagini to clean up the mess, a clear sign that Severus's role was still necessary.
The rest of the summer passed in a haze of bad news and worse news. At least Harry Potter survived the transfer to the Weasleys' (although there were a few heart-stopping moments when Severus thought he might have accidentally murdered the boy himself-a Sectumsempra straight to the head?-until Yaxley flew in, screaming "The real Potter is with the half giant! They're headed west!"-good, so then Severus had only murdered some damn fool posing as a decoy).
Later, when the Ministry fell, Death Eaters immediately descended on the Burrow but didn't find any evidence that Potter had ever been there. Good, so the Order had finally learned caution.
But when August had almost passed, and the Board of Governors had already approved changes in their attendance policy (purebloods and half-bloods were required to attend, while Muggle-borns were banned) still no one had officially named Minerva as headmistress, and Severus was still not guaranteed a teaching position for the next year.
On 30th August, it finally occurred to Severus that the reason Minerva hadn't been picked was because the Board was not going to pick her. They were going to pick a Death Eater. This thought struck him as he was getting ready for bed, and he didn't sleep all night. What if they picked a Death Eater for head, but didn't name him Potions Master? After all, Slughorn might decide to stay on, and the only openings would be for Defense (which Severus would be unable to teach, and if he tried, he'd be dead within hours, surely)-and Muggle Studies, of course, which would probably be dropped as a subject, and which Severus wasn't qualified to teach, anyway. He didn't know how he was going to keep his promise to Dumbledore.
The next morning, he was summoned to the Dark Lord's side. "Severus, I have good news," the Dark Lord greeted him, but Severus doubted this very much. "The Hogwarts Board of Governors has finally approved you for headmaster."
"That is good news indeed, my Lord," Severus said, without really understanding.
"You must, of course, go to Hogwarts immediately and meet with the teachers. Term does start tomorrow, after all! And the Carrows will be taking up posts in Muggle Studies and Dark Arts."
Severus nodded, but began to wonder what he was agreeing to. He finally started to parse some of the words the Dark Lord had spoken. When he did, his stomach dropped to the floor and his eyes started watering. He forced himself to blink. Me?, he thought helplessly. Me?
He really made a shit spy, not seeing this coming.
"...be in touch, but I assume you'll want to leave right away."
"Yes of course, my Lord." I should say something else here, he thought. Something practical, like I saw this coming, like I'm in control. "I hope the Carrows will come with me-it will make a stronger impression," he said, and almost breathed a sigh of relief at how perfect that was. He was still a shit spy, but if he covered it well enough, no one else had to know.
"Naturally-I've already informed them. They will meet you in Hogsmeade in ten minutes."
Oh, ten minutes was plenty of time to wrap his head around a promotion he was ill-suited for, and then face a room full of former colleagues whose trust he had betrayed so thoroughly just three months ago, and who would now be working under him.
He said, "That is perfect my Lord," because it had to be.
He took his leave, and Bellatrix escorted him out. She grinned widely at him. "Severussss," she told him, "I've always wanted to teach Charms. See what you can do for me, hm?" And she cackled.
Ten minutes was enough to realize that the Dark Lord had been trying to make him stumble-perhaps as some sort of test-and that Dumbledore had seen this coming. His portrait had said he'd see him soon, which had been an obvious enough clue, had Severus been a better spy.
But he had a part to play, and he was going to play it.
Fifteen minutes later, Severus strode in to the Great Hall at Hogwarts like a conquering hero. He held his head high, with a Carrow twin on each side and slightly behind. He announced to the staff gathered there: "We shall meet in one hour in the staff room. Alert those who are not here." He met Minerva's eye and deliberately smirked at her. Predictably, she puffed up and turned red. He snapped around and strode out of the hall.
At the staff meeting, Severus sat at the head of the table, again with the Carrow twins on either side of him. "Introductions first," he said calmly. "This is Amycus Carrow, who will be teaching Dark Arts." He paused and silently dared them all to mention the subject's name change. But the teachers were silent, so he continued, "And here is Alecto Carrow, who will be teaching Muggle Studies-in case you haven't yet heard, Charity Burbage recently...resigned." He paused while the Carrows snickered and his former colleagues were as still as if they'd been hit with a Full-Body Bind.
"Now," he said, "should any of the rest of you wish to...resign, please let me know immediately, as I need to fill your post before tomorrow morning." Filius met his eyes and nodded, but Minerva still looked murderous, so before she said anything, Severus decided to put a finer point on his declaration. "Make no mistake: every one of you can be replaced. I've had several qualified people making inquiries on open positions already."
Minerva looked thunderstruck, and looked at Filius and Pomona in alarm. Even Trelawney nodded at him in terror. Good, then. They all understood what was at stake. He had come close enough to saying, "MINERVA, IF YOU QUIT, YOU WILL BE REPLACED BY A DEATH EATER."
Getting Minerva to understand that was critical. Severus could not have a Death Eater in charge of Gryffindor House-the idiot Gryffindors would invite their own murders before the start-of-term feast. As it was, he could only hope that Minerva would not do the same. Perhaps she could talk to Filius-he would surely be able to talk her down from histrionics.
He dismissed the teachers, and instructed the Carrows to walk the corridors and grounds and take note of anything unusual-simply to get them out of his hair. Meanwhile, he took the opportunity to move into the headmaster's rooms. Thankfully, the portraits remained silent, perhaps picking up on his mood for once. Maybe their first clue was when walked into the office, sat behind the desk, and immediately buried his face in his hands, weeping uncontrollably.
Even if conditions had been ideal, Severus was not suited for the job of headmaster. He hated children-hated having to tell them what to do. The only thing he hated worse was having to tell adults what to do.
But the conditions were...somewhat less than ideal.
But he had a role to play, and at least Albus's plan had worked; at least Severus would be able to fulfill his promise. At least he could protect the students.
He collected himself and squared his shoulders. He placed both of his hands flat on Dumbledore's desk-his desk, now.
Dumbledore cleared his throat behind him. "There is still much work to be done," he said quietly.
"I know that," Severus replied without inflection and without turning to look.
"Severus, I had hoped to save you from a particular job, but the deadline has passed and my plan did not work. So you must deliver the sword of Gryffindor to Harry."
Severus took two very deliberate breaths. Then, silently, slowly, he turned to look directly at the portrait.
Dumbledore looked chastised. "...at your earliest possible convenience, of course."
"Of course," Severus said, and showed Dumbledore his back.
The rest of the day was a blur. He had seemingly endless bits of administrative duties; he had to sign off on everything from booklists to new Quidditch captains, from class schedules to room assignments, from dormitory passwords to breakfast menus. During a three hour period, Sybill Trelawney stopped by four different times to complain about four different things. Each time, he tried to dismiss her as quickly as possible.
"Sybill, sort out your own problems," he'd said; then, "Sybill, I don't care about your curriculum. Leave." Then, finally, after the fourth time, "Professor Trelawney, if you come back to this office, I will curse you." After that, he almost hoped she'd return, but she didn't. Perhaps she could divine the future, given enough hints.
On top of everything else, he had to hold a press conference. A press conference! He didn't know how much his new job paid, but he suspected that it wasn't enough.
He wished he'd slept the night before.
He went to the Great Hall for dinner that night, and found the Carrows already there, flanking the high seat. He was grateful for that; he didn't want to have to sit by Minerva, who was still technically his Deputy Headmistress. He took his seat between the twins and greeted them. "Did you find everything in order?" he asked.
"Mostly," grunted Amycus. "Jes that damn fool Hagrid. Roundin' up thestrals, he was. Said he needed them to pull the school carriages tomorrow night. I asked him, I says, 'Why don't you use the carriages that pull themselves, like when we was in school,' but he didn't answer me."
Alecto shuddered on Severus's other side. "Those thestrals are creepy. And rotten luck. I would'a put a stop to it myself, but I dint want to get too close, no sir."
"Yes, Professor Hagrid has always had a fondness for dangerous beasts," Severus said.
Minerva-Professor McGonagall-on the other side of Alecto, snorted inelegantly.
"You got somethin' to say, you old bint?" Alecto asked her.
"No, Alecto," she said. "Not a thing."
"No, I don't suppose you would," Alecto said, and turned away.
The Welcoming Feast, such as it was, was the next night. Minerva-Professor McGonagall-led in a very small group of first years who were Sorted in eerie silence.
Severus stood to give his prepared speech, and felt unaccountably nervous. There was no need for it-it was no different from standing in front of a classroom-except that he was speaking in front of every student in the school, whose parents were Death Eaters, or else members of the Order, or maybe even neutral-and in front of all the teachers-and everyone-everyone-was judging him. He buried his nerves under his Occlumency, and began his speech.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said, because he literally could not think of a different opening line. Still, it was the most direct lie he'd told in a long while. "You've no doubt already noticed some changes this year. Returning students will recognize me as Potions Master, or Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I will be taking over as Headmaster this year. In addition, Professor Carrow," he indicated Amycus on his right, "will be taking over Dark Arts, and Professor Carrow," he indicated Alecto on his left, "will be taking over Muggle Studies, which is now compulsory for all students.
"This year will be challenging for many of you. Your parents may be fighting on different sides of the war. But know this: your magical blood has bought all of you a place in this school. Use this year to learn, to study, and become better witches and wizards."
That was the end of his speech, but everyone was still looking at him as if he failed to deliver some cue.
"...Thank you," he said, and sat back down.
There was tepid applause and the food was served. "Didja notice who didn't show?" Alecto asked him as she grabbed for a chicken leg. "The Weasley boy. Rob, I think it is."
Severus frowned before he could stop it, but quickly buried the expression. But honestly, did Alecto really expect Ronald Weasley to make an appearance? Despite the fact the boy was a mediocre student, he was not entirely gormless-unlike the two people flanking him at the moment. Honestly, Alecto may as well have made note of Harry Potter's absence.
"He might be with Potter," Amycus said, and Severus barely managed to keep his eyes from rolling.
"You know, I think I remember seeing a report that he was sick or something," Alecto said. "Weasley, I mean."
"I should make a home visit, to verify the story," Severus said, hoping to beat them to the punch.
"Good, let's go tonight," Alecto said.
"I hardly need an escort," Severus said, annoyed.
"Lor, we wouldn't miss it," Amycus said.
A home visit-especially unannounced, at night-would strike fear in the hearts of the Order. But Severus hoped the Weasleys were prepared.
It was nearly midnight when Severus Apparated to the Burrow along with Alecto and Amycus. The Weasleys were surprised out of their beds, but Severus was pleased that they at least had a cover story for their youngest son, even if it was a flimsy one. Spattergroit, they said, and showed their guests an unfortunate soul, moaning in Ron Weasley's bed in the attic room of the house. Alecto and Amycus backed away quickly-Severus did, too, but he saw enough to determine that, whatever it was, the creature impersonating Ronald Weasley was a pretty poor imitation. But he supposed that if anyone voiced that criticism, Molly and Arthur could claim that the spattergroit was disfiguring. The Carrows grumbled the whole way back downstairs, where Severus was honestly delighted to see that, on the Weasley family clock, the hand marked "Ron" was pointing to "Ill." He suspected Molly had something to do with that, and thought it was a nice detail for her to have taken care of.
"See that?" he asked the Carrows as he pointed to the clock. "We could have saved ourselves the trip upstairs."
Arthur looked startled, but Molly gently put her hand on his arm. The Carrows didn't notice the exchange.