Chapter 6

The world as Harry knew it dissipated into a cloud of silvery mist, but that too soon cleared. He saw before him an older woman staring into a mirror. "I've watched the destruction of the wizarding world from within the confines of the castle walls. Many years ago a threat rose, he was said to be the descendant of Voldemort, but that could never be proven. What he did do, however, was make our entire lives hell. He was vicious, he was ruthless, but worst of all… he was the Minister of Magic. I personally don't believe that anyone could have elected him into office, it must have been a takeover, but whatever it was, he ruled supreme. He was adamant that he would live forever, that he knew the secrets to immortality that had been lost with Voldemort's downfall and the disappearance of the boy-who-lived."

She moved around her office and picked up several books, tossing them into a nearby trunk. From somewhere else, likely the eyes of the one whose memory this was, a voice came. "What happened when he took over?"

"Oh you know what happened, Grinell, you were there." She responded, sadness etched into the lines on her face.

"Humor me." Grinell replied, leaning back so the view shifted. Hooves could be seen peeking out from the bottom. It was clear that Grinell was a centaur, or at the very least a talking horse, unicorn, or Pegasus. Centaur was more likely though.

The woman nodded again. "I did agree to this after all… After the Minister took rule, the first thing he did was declare war on the muggles. He cut off all lines of communications with them, not only for us, but he somehow convinced the wizarding communities in other countries to follow in his ways. He had spread false rumors throughout the wizarding world stating that the muggles knew of us and were planning an attack. The rumors spread like wildfire and before we knew it, half-bloods and muggle-born children were being refused entrance to Hogwarts. Most of the half-bloods fled to the muggle world in desperation." She paused for a moment and looked back to the man. "The last I heard on those, they were all hunted down and slaughtered by the aurors and dementors. It was soon aft- can I please stop?" She asked as her arms shook.

"I'm terribly sorry Headmistress, but my kind has foreseen events that will require this tale. Please continue." He tried, holding out a hand to rest on her shoulder. He was most certainly a centaur.

The woman looked down but nodded her head and went on. "It was soon after then that the Minister decided that since muggles and wizarding folk had been breeding together so much that everyone was a suspect. He took the wands away from most of our kind, only allowing those who he saw as pure-blood to own them. It's been 6 years since he's done that. Our school has been steadily losing numbers for the last 50 years, but only in the last few has it really shown. This year we only had some 47 students, whereas last year we had 125. It's projected that the school won't even be running next year…"

"Is that why you're packing?" Grinell interrupted.

"No… no, I'm packing because they've taken my wand away, and without a wand, without a way to control my magic properly… I'm not fit to be Headmistress."

"Why was your wand taken away?"

The woman scoffed and shook her head. "Because the Minister found 'evidence' that my great grandmother had an affair with a half-blood, and he didn't want the mud running through my veins to taint future generations of real, pure witches and wizards." She said lowly, clenching her hands tightly. "The idiot doesn't even realize it, but if he'd ever paid attention to the legends he would have noticed that Voldemort was a half-blood, meaning he would be just as tainted as I! It wasn't the muggle-born or the half-bloods ruining this world, it was the cold heartless men and women like him who believed in a master race!" She stopped her ministrations for a moment and laughed before running to the fireplace in the room.

"Headmistress? What are you doing? We haven't finished the interview!" Grinell called standing and rushing towards her.

He caught the tail end of what was said. "-was a HALF-BLOOD! Just look into it yourself, read the texts, listen to the legends you old big ball of idiocy! If I'm 'unfit' for Hogwarts because my great grandmother once slept with a half-blood, then you're unfit for Minister because your great grandfather WAS a halfblood! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Before the centaur's eyes the woman was pulled through the fire. He reached out to grab her, but he was too slow. Suddenly aurors came from the floo, pouring out like a marching band. One turned to the centaur and raised his wand with a snarl. "Nothing but a half-blood species. Make your peace, filth."

"Please, just give me a minute alone. If you truly will me to make my peace, give me only 60 seconds in this room alone. Seal the doors, break the floo, do what you must to keep me here, but give me those 60 seconds." The centaur begged.

The auror grimaced. "Only because we're forced to abide by last requests if they're reasonable. You have 1 minute!" He yelled before leaving the room with the others.

Grinell sprang into action, locating the pensive. He gripped the bowl's sides and tears could be seen falling into the water. "Saviors, my kind has foreseen your arrival. Please, do not give up and do not fall into the trap of the pure-blood, mud-blood hierarchy, I beg of you."

The silver mist swirled and dissipated, releasing Harry from the memory. Harry stumbled back and his breathing and heart rate increased. That centaur was killed because he was considered a half breed. He'd quite literally seen the last moments of Hogwarts' inhabitance. He stumbled back into a cabinet and knocked over a strange looking vial, spilling another silvery strand. Harry lept into action hoping to acquire the memory before it fell into the cracks but it was for naught, as the silvery strand was lost. "Accio!" He tried. It didn't work. "Accio memory!" The only thing that flew to him was the memory in the pensive. Luckily enough for him, he caught it and returned it to its place. Frantically he ran to the door and cast a sonorus on himself. "SNAPE! Headmaster's office, you have to see this!"

Severus looked up from his seat. He was taking a well-deserved rest in one of the chairs that he'd transfigured from the debris. Altogether he and the group were taking great strides. Like any witch or wizard, when they were fitted with the appropriate wand – something he had been helping the boy Ollivander to make for the others – their grasp of magic and spells would become so much grander. Thus far all 19 people sitting in the room with him had learned the levitation charm, transfiguring wood into coal and coal into candles, and the sticking charm. For their first day of school in over a century, he thought things were going fairly well.

The man sighed and made his way up through the corridors, up the vines in the grand staircase, and through to the Headmaster's office. The path there was worse than he'd ever remembered. For a brief moment he wondered how overgrown the dungeons were.

Harry had him view the memory and as soon as Snape returned from the viewing he noted a considerable change in the man. Severus didn't wish to speak to him; he only billowed off and disappeared into the depths of the castle. Harry silently made his way back to the Great Hall and was happy to see that everyone was working together. What made him the happiest, though, was the boy Ollivander's absolute will. The boy would come in, take a person, go outside, and craft them wands. He didn't know squat about lengths or how rigid or pliable they should be, so he didn't work on that at the moment. Instead he focused on making them tools that would be used until he could make them better. From watching Harry and Snape the boy had quickly picked up on the spells needed to strip bark, transfigure rocks into buckets, spit water into the buckets, and curl the wood in on itself. The wands didn't look at all attractive, but they worked, and most importantly, their woods and cores were suited to their casters.

Severus had billowed down the stairs and began roaming the castle like a ghost. He needed time to think about what he'd seen in the pensive. He needed somewhere to blow off steam. He needed countless books to- the papers! He started off to go and get the papers so that he might sort them and properly teach them later. All in all, when he thought about their first day in this new world, he couldn't help but feel it had been longer than the days he was used to. It must have been the culture shock.

Suddenly from behind he heard a familiar voice from his past. "My goodness, Professor Snape, is that you?"

A/N: 6 chapters for 1 day, I know right? Culture shock! I promise all of the chapters are not going to be the telling of a few hours at a time, in fact the following chapters will likely be multiple days within a chapter. I'm not sure yet. Things will happen! I'm just trying to figure out a comfortable pace in which to set the story.