The Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress were in deep debate.
"I'm just a supportive as you are of adding Occlumency and Legilimency to the class offerings for the older students, Severus, but I can't see how you'll manage this teaching load. You'll be teaching for nearly 20 hours a week, with little time for grading and the work of the Headmaster and Head of Slytherin house. And I am already doing all I can as Deputy, Head of House, and teaching Transfiguration. Directing the rebuilding and conducting the fundraising campaign is taking all my time, Headmaster!" she insisted.
"I would certainly take on more of those duties if I were able to independently meet with builders and donors outside Hogwarts, but you know as well as I do that is not possible. It would just mean both of us going on the visits," Snape said testily.
Minerva McGonagall sighed and sat down opposite the large oak desk, now bare of the Magical Devices which now whirred or spun on shelves and in cabinets elsewhere in the room. "I know. However, that doesn't create more time for me to do additional teaching, nor does it add hours to your day, either. And the regular use of the Timeturner presents risks of its own." Her voice softened. "I simply can't see how you can manage all that and do well, especially if you are not yet back to 100%. Perhaps you might consider giving Head of Slytherin House to Professor Sinistra? That would be at least some time back to you."
Snape wasn't sure which of her comments was more irksome, the suggestion that he step down as a Head of Slytherin, or that he had yet to return to his full ability.
Giving up his leadership of Slytherin House was impossible, especially in these delicate times. Slytherin was well-known (and deservedly so) as the Hogwarts House that produced the most Dark Wizards and Witches, and it would be imperative this year to begin with strong leadership. Not to mention how much he enjoyed exerting substantial influence over disciplinary decisions as a Head of House. To remove that responsibility would take away one of the few joys remaining to him. Aurora Sinistra would do well, and he considered her taking over the position in the future. He would retain involvement in discipline as Headmaster, which might prove to be sufficient.
The other works of the Headmaster, redesigning the course of study, hiring and overseeing the staff, directing the rebuilding, guiding fundraising, and guiding the school overall, was richly satisfying to him. Especially the budget, which he was not willing to relinquish even a portion of, even to Minerva, to her vocal consternation. He understood well that she considered this a deep insult to her, but certain issues needed to be managed in a more discreet fashion.
Teaching Occlumency and Legilimency was an innovation that thrilled him. No other Magical school in the world offered this, even at the collegiate level. This would set Hogwarts apart, and incidentally himself as Headmaster and instructor. Ever since his individual lessons with Potter, he had weighed the risks both of teaching this skill, as well as the risks of not teaching it. He knew of few other skilled Occlumens or Legilimens still living, and fewer still who would be available to teach, given that most of those known to have this skill were recruited by the Ministry for the Interrogations Office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But there were others who weren't known, as this skill was one often kept to oneself, for obvious reasons. All the more reason to teach both skills.
That left Potions. Blast. As much as he hated to consider taking any lesser a role in the development of this subtle art among developing witches and wizards, this was probably the one area of his responsibilities for which it was even possible to consider options.
He leaned across the array of parchments scattered over his desk. Finding what he was looking for, he noted to McGonagall, in as conciliatory a tone as possible, so that it would be clear to her both that he was only agreeing with her under duress, and that she was right (which would please her ego to no end), he said "Very well, I will send out a call for an Assistant Professor for Potions and split my class load there. I'll retain only Advanced Potions, which should free up a good portion of my class time. Would that please you, Deputy Headmistress?" he drawled formally.
McGonagall huffed in reply. "That will reduce your class load, Severus, but I can't imagine how we will afford to pay another person. The rebuilding is very expensive, given the extent of the damage and the quality you have insisted upon, the fundraising campaign is limping along, you're now paying the house elves…"
Snape cut her off. "They fought for Hogwarts just like the rest of us, Minerva. They deserve their freedom and that means they must be paid," he said sharply, perhaps more so than was necessary.
McGonagall sat up straighter and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I don't disagree on that point, Headmaster. My point is that this cost must come from some kind of budget. You've even reduced tuition this year! I may not be your Arithmancy professor, but I can't see how we will be able to sustain this."
The headmaster rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sat back. Of course she was right, but being able to offer a Hogwarts education to any young witch or wizard, regardless of the parents' means, was foundational. He shuddered to think what his own life would have been without Hogwarts. How his own parents had managed the cost was a mystery to him and something he gave little thought to as a boy, being only too happy to be away from home. His life was woeful enough having graduated under Dumbledore; with no direction at all, it was difficult to picture any outcome other than an early death after a great deal more destruction. How many other young witches and wizards would face being a freak and outcast in the Muggle world, hiding their abilities from a society that viewed such talents only as a threat? He knew well the outcomes of whose talents were suppressed, and it was rarely happy, for the wizard or witch, and those around them.
"The budget will allow only a single school year for an Assistant Professor. We'll have to reassess the budget next year, once the rebuilding is more complete and the changes to the finances are more clearly known," he said tiredly. "And it is to be hoped your fund-raising appeals have their intended effect. Perhaps you could host a party with some more well-off families and spike the punch with Elixir of Aurodon. I'd be happy to assist."
McGonagall replied silently with a look of reproach to his last comment and instead continued her previous line of inquiry. "Who do you expect to accept a one-year Assistant Professorship, Severus? Surely no one with experience. You'll likely have to spend as much time teaching them to be a teacher as it would take you to teach yourself!" Minerva said heatedly.
Snape knew she was probably right on this count, as well, but there was nothing to be done. He nodded, but gestured to his scribe.
"Bina, please distribute a notice that I am seeking an Assistant Potions Professor for a one-year term in as many national and international publications as you know of. Madam Pince may be helpful in tracking down more," he said resignedly. It was worth an effort, though it was likely to be fruitless. When Minerva McGonagall heard the salary that he was offering, she was certain it would be fruitless.
By mid-July, Minerva McGonagall placed on Snape's desk a tall stack of parchments.
"I was shocked by the response we received to our posting. It would seem that there is a great deal more interest in teaching here than we previously imagined," she said primly.
"You've done at least a preliminary review, Minerva, I trust?" Snape said pointedly. The prospect of reviewing some 50 or more resumes was vexatious to him, given the habit of enhancing, inflation, and outright lying that was now customary on job applications from so many witches and wizards.
McGonagall gave him a scathing look. "Of course I have, Severus. I've narrowed it down to four." She was greeted with an unusual look that might have hinted at gratitude as he took the small handful of parchments from her hand.
Taking the first, he skimmed the document. "Arnolf Svennson. Potion-maker and proprietor of Arnie's Potions in Stockholm. No research credentials, no teaching experience, and no publications, other than an opinion piece on the merits of deregulating the importation of foreign ingredients. Interesting," he said slowly, putting the parchment aside. If this wizard made the last four, what must the other applicants have been? Nearly unable to brew tea? His initial pleasure at seeing interest in his position quantified now gave way to the possibility that every crank or crackpot in the unstable post-war period was looking for a chance at a more predictable and stable position, particularly one that included housing and meals. Perhaps they hadn't bothered to notice it was a single-year appointment.
The next. "Arline Mackson, currently Assistant Potions teacher at the Fielding School. No research, no publications. Remind me, what is the Fielding School?"
"It's a school for… well," McGonagall said hesitantly. Finally, she said, "squibs."
A school for the non-magical children of witches and wizards. Sadly, such children were usually the object of shame and embarrassment. Snape had forgotten that there was a school just for such children, to see if any magic resided in them. There were occasional transfers into Hogwart of such students, but it was uncommon. Typically, they were integrated into Muggle schools as smoothly as possible and at as young an age as possible, to protect them from feeling inadequate. But it was difficult to imagine that the teaching experience there would prepare one for teaching at Hogwarts. He placed this, too, face down on his desk, with foreboding. Two more and these first two were abysmal.
The third. "Morgan Hunter, previously Potions Professor at the Sedona School, U.S.A." Here, Snape stopped reading aloud. It simply wasn't possible. Morgan Hunter was one of the foremost Potions Masters in the world, with an armload of impressive publications and research to his name.
Minerva sat quietly for a moment, watching the incredulity gather on Snape's face. "I noticed this one, too," she noted understatedly.
"It simply isn't possible, Minerva. This must be either a mistake or a poorly-executed prank," he said, still looking at the parchment, which scrolled down into his lap with a long list of teaching, speaking engagements, and publications.
"I thought so, too, Headmaster, so I took it upon myself to verify and it is authentic. Morgan Hunter, with his world-wide reputation, is interested in our position."
It was difficult to grasp. What would this most esteemed Potions Master from the Sedona School want with a one-year assistantship at Hogwarts, most decidedly a demotion? Well, that would be Dr. Hunter's question to answer.
"Bina," Snape ordered. "Write up an official offer for Dr. Hunter from the Sedona School. Ask the housekeeping staff to prepare a second Potions classroom somewhere in the dungeons and locate and prepare him a suitable apartment. Minerva, add him to the Sorting List with the new students."
"Don't you want to look at the last applicant?" the Deputy Headmistress said, insisting on good form and process.
Snape grabbed the last of the four parchments from her hand. Giving it a cursory review, he said "Lakshmi Navashankar. Never heard of her." He tossed her parchment onto the pile with the others, still holding the parchment from Hunter in his hand like it was a precious artifact. "Morgan Hunter. He'll be an excellent addition to the staff," Snape said with more smugness that he would have wanted known. The internationally-known Potions Master wanted to join the staff of Hogwarts, under Headmaster Severus Snape, noted Potions Master in his own right. At last, he had something to look forward to other than more laboratory accidents from klutzy students and grading uninspiring essays.
For the remainder of the summer, as he went about his work, refining lesson plans, overseeing the builders, meeting with his staff, and otherwise preparing the school for the fall, Snape was more pleased than usual. He would have a peer to work with, one with an international reputation. Their correspondence had established Dr. Hunter's teaching responsibilities (underclass Potions), a significant research plan, and his invitations to speak at several of the Magical Schools of Europe throughout the year. The reputation of Hogwarts would be raised considerably and Snape's own list of research publications undoubtedly lengthened by their collaboration. And to be associated as a peer with Dr. Morgan Hunter would probably also do wonders for the fundraising needs of the school. Perhaps he could encourage Dr. Hunter to accompany McGonagall on her visits to the wealthy families of Britain, to add additional gravitas to her appeals.
Stop this ridiculous daydreaming, he chided himself. It's a waste of time and there are more important things with which to occupy your mind.
That being said, the images of the two Potions Masters, debating research approaches and co-writing papers was so pleasant, he found himself returning to them regularly. He drove Madam Pince nearly mad requesting every book she had on North American and New World Potions, even those from the Restricted Section that required the use of highly-regulated ingredients. Perhaps Arnolf Svennson was right about deregulating importation, after all. Perhaps he should have given that fellow a little more credit.