Note: Part two of today's update. Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Five

Battle Plan

Minerva looked around the gathered occupants of the staffroom. Now that the beginning of term was but the next day, the majority of her colleagues had returned to the castle in order to make the necessary preparations for the new school year, and would have received her memo, but a few were yet to arrive back to live on a permanent basis and would move back in on the following morning. Minerva only hoped that her emergency owls would have found their intended recipients in time to inform them of her spontaneous staff meeting, the first meeting that she had called within her tenure as headmistress. Really, the problems that were to be discussed at the gathering should have been thought through long before the previous term ended, but everyone had been so shocked at the turn of events, everyone had been so unable to function on more than a basic level, that she had left it. It had also felt strange, inappropriate, taking Albus's place so soon after his death. Having given people time to get over their grief and disbelief, she hoped that any theories and solutions that were put forward today would be better than anything that could have been thought up before.

Cuthbert Binns was there, as usual, indeed the only time he ever left the staffroom was to teach; it made sense that he should be present for the meeting. Bathsheba was there with her runic knitting pattern, several balls of wool of beautiful varied colours in a basket by her feet. Minerva still had no idea what she was making, it appeared to be a scarf of some sort, in a complicated style of woven knots and holes and lacy bits. At that precise moment in time, the needles were hovering in midair in front of the owner as she pored over the pattern, completely oblivious to the world around her as she tried to decipher the ancient language that had been hidden from human eyes for so long. Presently she picked a ball out of the basket and looked at it for a long time, twisting the end of the yarn between her fingers as if that would somehow aid her decision. It was a dark Lincoln green colour, interwoven with flecks of black and gold. Personally, Minerva thought that it would not be a good idea to introduce yet another colour to the already garish display, but she knew better than to say anything. They had already established that this was no ordinary pattern, and Minerva was as intrigued to see it evolve as she was determined to find out its secrets. Finally, Bathsheba took a deep breath, as if she had come to a conclusion that was not particularly favourable but that was necessary none the less, and she began to wind the green speckled yarn around one of the needles. Minerva tore her attention away and continued to appraise the occupants of the staffroom.

Aurora Sinistra was also there, nodding off in her favourite chair. Minerva could not help but smile wryly at the thought of what would occur once Horace arrived, for it was also his favourite chair. Thankfully, in their past year of teaching together, any disputes over ownership of the sagging green velvet monstrosity had been avoided thanks to Horace's preference to keep himself to himself in his quarters and the very nature of Aurora's craft meaning she was never in the staffroom during its most active hours to begin with.

"Aurora," Minerva began gently. The astronomy teacher, who was usually so brilliant and full of life, merely groaned and pulled her hat down over her eyes. As bubbling and bouncy as she might be during the night and evening, trying to keep Aurora's attention during the day, when she wanted her bed and the sunlight that she so seldom saw was making her irritable, was a completely thankless task. Having spent so long teaching during the hours of darkness, the younger witch had become almost completely nocturnal, even during the holiday periods. Pomona Sprout failed to suppress a laugh, but Minerva could not let go of a small worry in the back of her mind. Aurora had been shaken by the dramatic climax to the last year more than most; and Minerva could fully understand why. She would feel the same if the grand denouement had unfolded in her own Transfiguration classroom. On the morning of Albus's funeral, a tearful and sleep-deprived Aurora had confided in the acting headmistress; saying that she had not had the courage to go into her beloved tower since the tragedy had occurred. Of all the nights for her to be away from the castle, of all the nights for her not to have been protecting her little patch of Hogwarts… She felt as if her home, her entire world, had been brutally violated, mauled by the events that had occurred there. They had gone to the top of the tallest tower together, viewed it in the sunlight, and stargazer had broken down into tears. Minerva wondered whether she had regained any of her spark, or whether the new first-years would never know the bright and mischievous woman who had loved her craft and her tower almost more than life itself.

Minerva had been so caught up in her thoughts of Aurora that she hadn't noticed the formerly empty room beginning to fill up with her fellow staff, and she came back into the realm just Horace arrived and took a few steps back on finding his chair already occupied. He visibly toyed with the idea of getting Aurora to move before resigning himself to a much more uncomfortable seat next to Pomona. Minerva performed a quick mental headcount; they were two short.

Finally Septima Vector hurried in through the door looking extremely breathless and flustered, and Minerva breathed a sigh of relief. She could begin the proceedings, knowing that their final absentee would remain so. Severus, as much as Minerva had wanted his valuable input on how the school should be run and should be protected in the wake of everything that had occurred over this wholly tumultuous summer, had decided that whilst his returning to Hogwarts was unavoidable, he would avoid it for as long as physically possible, and Minerva could not begrudge him that. The atmosphere in the staffroom would have been so tense as to be cut with a knife, and Minerva knew that however much her colleague was undeserving of the ire of the rest of the staff, there was simply no way in which to tell them so. They had already decided that it would be more comfortable for all parties for Severus to remain as out of sight, and hopefully out of mind, as possible during this next year. It would be a sad loss to dinner table conversation, thought Minerva wistfully. Not her own, but those she overheard. For all her previous misgivings and personal vendettas against the defence teacher, he was an intelligent and eloquent man who could put forward theories on all manner of subjects.

"We're all here," Minerva announced, wholly unnecessarily since it was clear to all the gathered staff that their numbers were complete. "So let's begin."

"Should someone prod Aurora?" asked Filius plainly, indicating the astronomer, who had not moved for the past ten minutes. Bathsheba held up one of her knitting needles and advanced towards the younger witch, but thankfully she did not put the pointed metal to use against her colleague.

"Rora, wake up lass," she said.

"Gerroff," murmured Aurora's hat. "Mwakeshebanoneedle."

Filius raised an eyebrow and finally Aurora emerged from her cocoon, surveying the staffroom blearily.

"Well, we might as well get cracking," she said with a yawn. "I'll start. Everything's gone to pot, we have to welcome a turncoat back into our midst and you-know-damn-well-who is determined to rot our noble and venerated establishment from the inside out."

The room fell into silence in the wake of Aurora's uncharacteristic outburst, the tone of her last words edging closer and closer towards hysteria.

"Well, I think that just about sums it up," said Filius dryly. He sighed, and all traces of humour faded from his face as he spoke again. "Face it Minerva, we're going to be fighting a losing battle for however long the bastard wants us to play along in his perverse little game, giving everyone a false hope whilst he prepares to bring us down in the worst way possible. If the decision to remain open had not already been made for us, I would seriously consider closing the school completely in the wake of Albus's death."

"Filius!" Septima's voice was shocked. "How can you think of such a thing? How many more will suffer without the protections that Hogwarts affords to them?"

"The castle did a very good job of protecting Albus," muttered Filius darkly. Beside him, Pomona nodded her agreement sagely.

"I am inclined to agree with Septima," wheezed Binns. "The castle itself offers a certain amount of security of its own accord. We all know that the mysteries concerning the sentience of old buildings are more than merely conjecture, and I have been within this building for a very long time."

"But when this security can be breached by a sixteen-year-old wizard with no knowledge of the castle's inherent magic – admit it Cuthbert, no-one listens in your lectures on the history of the castle, just as no-one has read Hogwarts: A History…"

"I have," interjected the librarian absently. "It wasn't all that bad considering its reputation."

"Fine, no-one except Irma has read Hogwarts: A History; I still don't see how, after everything that's happened, we can still call the school a safe place."

Minerva looked nervously at Poppy, who raised an eyebrow at her with a minute shrug. It was her decision, Minerva knew that the mediwitch could not make it for her. As easy as it would have been to explain everything to the staff; to order Albus's portrait down to the staffroom to give his account of events, she knew that she couldn't do so. The more people who knew of Severus's true allegiance and what had really occurred on the astronomy tower that fateful day, the more danger there was that this allegiance would be revealed to his paymaster, and then all would be lost. She would simply have to go along with her colleagues' impressions of the man, hoping that the fact that she and Poppy knew the truth would be enough to lessen the effects of the hostility. She drew herself out of her thoughts and back into the staffroom conversation, the raised voices of which telling her that it had unfortunately degenerated into a full-scale argument.

"QUIET!" yelled a voice from one corner. Bathsheba was regarding them all frostily over the top of her spectacles. "Can't you see that this is exactly the sort of thing that he's waiting for? You're lucky that Snape isn't here to report this little indiscretion back to the powers that be. When we turn on each other like this then yes, the school is in peril. When we present a united front against the forces that are baying at the door, however, we can hold them off. The castle is and always has been formidable, that cannot be denied, but its efficacy depends upon the people inside it. It can do much by itself, but not everything. Besides, if you get any louder I'll lose concentration and start dropping stitches, so we know how dire the situation was becoming."

A small laugh ran around the staffroom, diffusing the tension that had gathered there. It was well-known amongst the teachers that Bathsheba could knit through virtually any distraction without losing her way. The ancient runes teacher met Minerva's eyes as she returned to her needles, the older witch giving her a look that seemed to hand the authority and chairmanship of the meeting back to its rightful holder with a heavy thud. It was a mark of the difficult burden that Minerva was carrying at that moment that she should have lost control of the meeting when she was usually such a stern presence in any discussion. She sighed and finally began to speak for the first time since the meeting had got underway.

"Severus isn't stupid," she said. "He knows that he is returning to a hostile environment and I doubt that he will do anything to aggravate an already delicate situation; he does have a highly developed sense of self-preservation. No, I think Severus's presence here in the castle this coming year is not something that we should be worrying about unduly just yet. I think we need to place our priorities elsewhere, and be more prepared for unexpected visits from the Ministry, checking that we are following their damnfool regulations. As you no doubt know, yesterday we had a coming together with the Committee regarding the library." (Here Irma sniffed emphatically.) "I therefore suggest that whilst it will be necessary to follow the rules outwardly, we use any opportunities for insubordination as and when they arise."

"Like when Umbridge was here?" asked Aurora, her demeanour suddenly brightening.

"Yes, like when Umbridge was here," Minerva continued. "But be sensible. We don't want to cause anarchy, which was our aim last time. Before, we wanted to show that Hogwarts couldn't function without Albus. Now, we want to prove that it can. We want to show the world that Hogwarts will stay strong, no matter how they try to break us down!"

The force of her pseudo-patriotic speech surprised Minerva, and she was even more surprised when her staff began to applaud her words.

"I approve wholeheartedly Minerva," said Horace. "It sounds like an excellent plan, but one question does still remain. What of Defence Against the Dark Arts? I think it is very obvious that there will be no instruction in this in the curriculum, and even if we organise something outside of the school timetable, on the sly so to speak, I don't know which of us would be qualified enough to teach it."

"We could always put in a joint effort," suggested Filius. "Everyone can teach what they know."

"That's alright for you, British Duelling Champion 1969," said Pomona, "but some of us only scraped a DADA Owl."

"Some of us messed it up entirely," murmured Septima to no-one in particular. "I always work on the principle that I can confuse an opponent to death with numbers if all else fails."

Minerva smiled.

"I was actually working on the principle that the students themselves would take over that role. If we remember Umbridge's half-hearted reign of terror once more, they rose admirably to the occasion then. I have no doubt that the similarity of the circumstances will cause them to do so once more. And we can always drop a few hints if they show no signs of rallying to the cause. Naturally, some outside instruction might be warranted from time to time," she added, nodding to Filius. "We shall have to see what happens."

There was silence for a while as each went over the plan mentally before the meeting came to an end by mutual agreement and the gathered teachers and support staff left the room to prepare for the next day. Poppy lingered behind.

"Do you think that it'll work?" she asked. "Moreover, do you think that we can prevent the hot-tempered amongst us from lashing out at our absent colleague in a moment of provocation?"

"I believe that Severus is planning to keep his appearances outside of his classroom to an absolute minimum," said Minerva. "He will be going out of his way to remain as invisible as possible, although indeed, this behaviour might be even more suspicious." She sighed. "We shall simply have to risk it, Poppy. Sometimes you have to risk a lot to win a lot. Perhaps we shall have to bring others in on the secret gradually. I think Bathsheba already suspects that something is amiss about the whole situation."

The nurse nodded and left the room. Minerva also rose, ready to vanish away to the bridge to tell Severus what had occurred at the brief meeting. She was, on the whole, feeling slightly more confident about the coming months. They had a battle plan at last.

Note2: Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next week with at least one chapter, hopefully two!