Albus had made sure Harry got to bed safely, assisted by Phoebe. After quickly checking up on Severus – who was sleeping peacefully – he went to the Great Hall to check on the students. And to snatch some of the icecream.
There was an excited buzz around the hall. The sides who had previously been battling, now sat drinking and joking together, still in their outfits. William and Harold – the latter with an arrow sticking in his chest since he hadn't bothered to remove it – were enjoying the attention, and using bottles of Dr Pepper to toast each other.
Taking a sip of his own can, Dumbledore smirked. Harry and Hermione had introduced soft drinks to Hogwarts in their sixth year, aided by several other Muggleborn or halfblood students. He had to admit it was a nice change from pumpkin juice.
The houses had mixed, and some Slytherins had actually joined other House tables, apparently glad to be able to openly spend time with their friends, knowing that their new Head of House heartily approved.
The new Head of Slytherin. Albus snorted softly.
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Said new Head of Slytherin was laying in his bed, being fussed over by Phoebe and Winky.
"I'm fine, I really am," Harry protested, "I'm a bit tired, but I wore my braces and I even took a Pepper-up this afternoon. I'm fine!"
Phoebe ignored him, and continued tucking in the edges of his blanket around him.
"Master Harry sir is being too tired," Winky said sternly, "Master Harry needs rest." The little elf waved her hand and sent a sleeping charm over the exhausted professor.
"Winkeeeeeeeeeeeee…." Harry just managed to whine before sleep overtook him.
Phoebe giggled. "Well done, Winky," she said, "come, we'll have some icecream here together so we can watch over him for a while.
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Dumbledore enjoyed the happy voices of his students a while longer. He smiled at little Fiona, who grinned widely.
"Did the battle go as planned, my dear young lady?" Dumbledore bowed slightly to the girl, who had, like most of the non-participating youngsters, been dressed in medieval garments that made her look like a real noble girl.
"It was great, Professor. I don't think I'll ever forget it."
"So for the rest of your life you'll remember that this battle took place in the year…"
"1066, sir. Although the Wizarding World wasn't captured until 1068."
"Well done, child," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily at her, "Professor Potter will be pleased. Have you and your friends had your Head of House appointment with him yet?"
Fiona shook her head. "We could sign up for a time that suited us, and mine isn't until next week. It was really weird though," she frowned.
"What was, dear?"
"Well, the older students, especially fourth years and up…they were really angry at first. When you made the announcement and he came to the Common Room after that…"
Fiona sat, chatting happily with her new friends, at the breakfast table. When the entire Hall began to hush, she looked up at the Staff Table; it wasn't uncommon for school-wide announcements to be made during meals.
Professor Dumbledore had indeed stood up, and his eyes were twinkling, but something was…off…in them, Fiona thought. They twinkled in a more careful way, if that made any sense.
"With the loss of our Potions Master, Slytherin House finds itself without a Head for the first time in decades," Dumbledore started, "and this has worried me for some time. For obvious reasons a replacement has been hard to find…"
Fiona could feel the sadness and anger from her housemates, and she got a bit mad at the Headmaster. It was bad enough there were so few of them. Most of them had lost their family in the war, but it seemed like no one really cared about that. Whereas the other houses, especially the Gryffindors were being councelled by their Head of House and if needed, specialists from St. Mungo's.
She looked at her older housemates. There weren't many of them, but they all looked very pale and sad, and she knew most of them had horrible nightmares.
"There has only been one applicant for the position," Dumbledore continued, "I had some reserves at first, but he insists. The new Head of Slytherin House is Professor Harry Potter."
At this, both the Slytherin table and the Gryffindor table erupted in chaotic screams of protest.
"SILENCE!" Dumbledore called, "the decision has been made. We are lucky someone volunteered. All Slytherins are exempt from the first class of this day, and are to meet their new Head of House in the Common Room. That is all."
Fiona, close to the Head Table, could see Professor Potter scowl at the Headmaster.
"Way to go, Albus," he hissed, "that'll generate goodwill, I'm sure. When will you learn that Slytherin are entitled to the same consideration as the rest of the school? Don't you ever learn from your mistakes?"
A bit surprised, Fiona made her way to the Common Room, accompanied by the rest of the House. It seemed no one was very interested in breakfast anymore.
"Potter as Head of House," a few people muttered, "can't we DO anything about it? Shouldn't a Head of House have been a member of that House?"
A second-year shook her head. "No, they don't. It is preferable, but there have been cases before, when there was no suitable Head for one of the Houses, that someone from another House, or even someone who hadn't gone to Hogwarts at all, became Head."
"I'd have preferred someone from outside Hogwarts, at least we would've stood a chance at some fair treatment," a fourth year sighed, "we're doomed."
"Professor Potter seems nice," Fiona suddenly heard herself say, "he's fair in class. He gave me points this week for doing well on my homework."
A prefect shook his head at her. "You're only a little girl," she said, "you can't know…but Gryffindor has always been favored as long as Potter was in school here. Potter is a Gryffindor. Salazar knows why he decided to become our Head of House…most likely to spite and torment us."
"I understand you would believe that," a soft voice suddenly came from the door of the Common Room, "but that is not the reason. Please everyone…sit down, and I'll explain."
The students turned around in shock to see Harry Potter leaning against the wall.
Fiona stared at him. The students had known that Harry Potter had disappeared for a year after the final battle, apparently to heal. They had all seen that he tired easily, that Miss Falcon-Ashley always made sure he had no classes in the second half of the afternoon, and some had whispered about him collapsing sometimes when strained. Fiona thought he looked very tired already, and it was only morning.
The History teacher lowered himself in a chair. "I apologise for my lack of manners, but I had a bad night. Please, sit."
Fiona hesitated, then pulled one of her friends, next to her, with her, and they sat down on the couch across from Professor Potter. Others followed suit, a bit more hesitant, until finally the whole group was seated.
"It must have come as a shock to you."
Most younger students nodded, the older ones just shot glares.
"Please, let me tell you why I asked the Headmaster for this position. It'll be quite a long story. If, after that, most of you still don't want me as Head of House, or at least Acting Head of House until a replacement has been found, I will step down."
There were only two seventh years left. The others in the room looked at them and they nodded.
"We will listen," Graham Pritchard said.
"Thank you, Mr. Pritchard," Potter said, before smiling a bit. "I remember your Sorting. The year of the Triwizard Tournament…"
Graham nodded curtly.
"That tournament caused some major paradigm shifts," the Professor mused, "but I'm starting in the middle. You all know about Halloween 1981, when Voldemort killed my parents."
He didn't even wait for confirming nods; everyone knew that.
"For the next ten years, I was raised by my mother's sister and her husband. I use the term 'raised' loosely. They treated me like the Malfoys treated their house-elves."
Several of the older students shuddered.
"My cousin Dudley spent his childhood bullying me and the other children in the neighborhood. Completely spoiled by his parents. Whatever he wanted, he got. I remember his eleventh birthday, a month before mine. He received 37 presents, and wailed because he got one less than the year before. His parents promptly bought him another two."
"That sounds familiar," a sixth year whispered, "coughDracocough…"
Fiona noticed her teacher could barely contain a grin. "On my eleventh birthday, Hagrid came to take me to Diagon Alley. That's when I learned I was a wizard. Hagrid was absolutely great! He bought me my first present ever, my owl Hedwig. Then I went to get robes, and met Draco Malfoy. He told me…well, he told me a lot of things. In one fell swoop, he insulted my parentage – unknown to him, I must admit – the first person to be nice to me, and acted exactly as my cousin. That was my first impression of a Slytherin."
A few faces started to loose their grim look. Apparently Malfoy hadn't been as popular in his own house as he'd thought.
"Then I talked to Hagrid about what Malfoy said. Now, you must understand that Hagrid was in school with Tom Riddle, who later became Lord Voldemort…"
Ignoring the collective gasps, Potter continued, "Tom caused Hagrid to be expelled unfairly, as you all know by now. His view of Slytherins in general was tainted because of it. But as an eleven year old, I believed him when he said all Dark wizards come from Slytherin. Malfoy caused me a lot of trouble in school; even if I did gave as good as I got. In third year, I learned that NOT all Dark wizards are from Slytherin. Peter Pettigrew betrayed my parents. A Gryffindor. And Severus Snape had this annoying habit of constantly saving my life…"
The older students suddenly snorted with laughter. They had seen the interaction between Harry Potter and the Potions Master.
Fiona looked up. "Didn't you like Professor Snape? But I saw you with his son, you like him."
Her teacher nodded. "It took some getting used to, but Junior's a cute baby. But, let me continue."
"The Triwizard Tournament. So many prejudices fell back then. First of all, Hufflepuff was painted to me as a House for leftovers, half squibs unsuited for a better House. But Cedric Diggory…"
Fiona had never heard of a Cedric Diggory. She looked up to Graham, who nodded sadly.
"Cedric Diggory was the Hogwarts Champion. A Hufflepuff. And he would have won, too. In fact, he did win. Not to mention that I'd been told the same about Durmstrang as I was told about Slytherin, but Viktor Krum is a decent guy. I believe Professor Granger still writes to him, girls, if you need a contact for an authograph. Anyway, that year really got me thinking. If my prejudices about Hufflepuff were wrong, and Durmstrang…then why not Slytherin?"
He leaned back in his chair, letting the memories wash over him.
"I got to know the Order later. It contains people from all Houses. Most importantly, I got to know Blaise. Yes, of all people who died in the final battle, I think I miss Blaise the most. Anyway, I came to realize that while many people blame Slytherin for this last war, I think we are most to blame. I've always been told Slytherins are biased purebloods, but then I considered that it was our prejudices against Slytherin that alienated you, and made some of you – not nearly all of you – receptive to Voldemort. I want to make up for that. I want to help the House regain its glory. When I was Sorted, the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. It said 'Slytherin could help you on your way to greatness'. I didn't take its offer. Perhaps I should have, I don't know. But I do want to help you on your way back to greatness. Will you give me a chance?"
Graham, now the spokesman for the group, scowled slightly. "How are we supposed to trust you? It's great, what you just told us, but what if it's only words? I'm sorry, but I've spent six years here, and I don't have much hope for change."
Fiona's eyes widened, as did the eyes of most younger students. To speak to a teacher like that! But the history teacher didn't get angry.
"I understand that, Mr Pritchard. I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm only asking for a chance. You'll have noticed I've done my best to be fair in class."
"That's true, Graham," Richard Harcourt suddenly said, "The first points he ever gave in class were to Slytherin."
Graham scowled at him.
"Now, now, Mr Harcourt, such comments should not be made in front of the person you are discussing," Professor Potter chided teasingly, "never give the opposition the idea they are winning.."
"The way you handled the last years of the war were certainly Slytherin…mixed with some Gryffindor," Graham mused, "and Blaise always spoke highly of you. Once Malfoy was gone."
Fiona shuddered. She knew Malfoy had been a bad person, but the tales of how he died made her sick.
The professor looked at her. "Don't worry, miss Grendel. Some tales of the war aren't…aren't meant to be repeated. Especially not to the ears of a lady such as yourself. You will never hear that story in class, I promise you. I'll leave now for a few moments, and you can discuss this amongst yourselves"
When the professor had stepped outside, Fiona looked up at the still grim looking Graham. "Would it be so bad if Professor Potter was our Head of House?" she asked, "He's been a lot more fair than the other professors. Even more fair than the Headmaster. And he did tell the Headmaster off earlier for being mean to us."
She blushed deeply at the questioning looks she got.
"Well…after the Headmaster's announcement…I was up close, I could hear it. He was angry and told the Headmaster that Slytherins deserve the same consideration as the rest of the school."
"And you are sure he didn't mean for anyone to overhear that? To gain our trust?" Graham wouldn't give in easily.
"No, because people who want to be overheard often look at the person they want them to overhear. And Professor Potter was trying very hard not to be heard. I was just too close. People always overlook me because I'm small," she blushed.
"Well, we do need a Head of House. It's not like we have a lot of choice. But Potter…"
"What about a trial period?" Fiona said practically, "of a year? We'll see easily enough if he's serious or not. If not, some of you are still well connected. You can use your family and friends to find a new Head. And if he is serious, well, then we just keep him."
Graham rolled his eyes at the last sentence, but the prefects and sixth years were already nodding.
"Oh alright, I guess. It's not like we HAVE to talk to him if we don't want to."
The boy looked around the Common Room. "Let's face it; we've been decimated. We're going to need all the help we can get. Even if it is from Potter. Your conditions make sense, Fiona. You're decent Slytherin material it seems."
"So you all decided to have Professor Potter on probation," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a bit.
"I should have put the matter differently that morning, dear. I didn't mean to hurt you and your friends."
"Putting it differently wouldn't have changed how you thought about us," Fiona said, ever practical, "unless you didn't really mean what you said. Do you think Severus will be a Slytherin, like his Dad?"
She wasn't prepared to see the old man choke up. Worried, she reached for a napkin.
"Don't worry, dear. You see, Severus's father was very dear to me. I wasn't his real Dad, but I did think of him as my son. He was the Head of Slytherin, and a very good one too."
Fiona nodded solemnly. "The older students say so. The Slytherins, at least."
"He would have done anything for his students. He did do everything for his students," Dumbledore said, staring into the distance.
After a few seconds, he smiled and looked at the little girl. "I've thought about what you told me, my dear, about the voice and the colors you see. Would you mind to go exploring with me tomorrow? See if we can unravel this mystery?"
Fiona nodded, scooping another large helping of icecream into her bowl, and not seeming the least bit concerned.
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Late that night, Dumbledore watched over the infant.
Carefully taking the child in his arms, he kissed the sleeping face and paced the room, rocking him gently.
"What is happening, my child? Is it possible you are not really gone or…Merlin forbid…have I made a Horcrux out of you?
The baby pushed one little fist under its chin and stayed asleep, apparently very content in the strong arms carrying him. Dumbledore put him in his pram and pulled it next to his bed, unwilling to have his precious little one so far away from him when he was so frightened for his future.
