The weekend was bright and clear, with the first hints of fall starting to show. The air had a crispness to it, though still warm, and the first leaves had begun to lose their robust green and began to show the smallest blossoms of the colors that had been hidden all summer. The days were becoming noticeably shorter and the morning light less intense. Knowing the lovely weekend might be one of the last before the truly chilly winds swept in had drawn all the students outdoors, with no one left inside to be accused of being up to something. The Whomping Willow offered tempting scarlet leaves that only the first-year students were foolish enough to approach for a closer inspection. Madame Pomfrey fixed them up better than new and very few required the experience to convince all remaining students to admire this ancient tree at a respectful distance. Each student, in addition to their physical injuries, earned a visit from Snape who rounded with Poppy to partake of the opportunity to castigate them about following school rules under the guise of checking up on the progress of their recovery.
Monday came too soon, as it always does. After a less than hearty breakfast of porridge and pumpkin juice, the 7th and 8th years were discussing the day.
"How does the apprenticeship matching work?" wondered Harry, grimacing slightly at both the difficulty of his trying to picture a worthwhile or interesting future and the gritty texture of the porridge. He quickly chased it with some pumpkin juice. "Do we just tell them what we want to do and then get a course plan, an assignment, or college advice?"
"I doubt it," Ginny said. "They'll have a record of your classes up to now and your O.W.L.s, so they'll probably be more on the side of telling you what you should do. But who knows, really. I think it's new this year. I asked Bill, Percy, and George about it, and they'd never been through it, so it must be a Snape thing."
"Leave it to Snape to find yet another way to tell us we're failures," Ron said.
"He'll have to take into account some of our skills from last year, I hope," Hermione began in a worried tone.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Only you'd worry about not being in school because you were fighting a war." The clock in the tower began to echo through the Great Hall. "Blasted bludgers, I gotta go." He dashed towards the Headmaster's office just before the last chime of 9:00am.
He ran up the spiral stairs, gasping for breath. McGonagall was there as his head of house, as was Snape, eyeing him coldly. Three house elves also attended, acting as scribes.
After an uncomfortably long, silent interval to allow Ron to regain normal breathing, Snape began. "Mr. Weasley, your recent outstanding field performance notwithstanding," at this Snape paused, while Ron sat up with some shock at finally receiving some praise from the famously difficult-to-please professor, "your academic record leaves something to be desired." He gestured at one of the house elves, who brought forth a parchment clearly labelled with "Ronald Weasley, O.W.L Report." It was rather short and had only a few A's on it, meaning "Acceptable." Ron slumped again, looking embarrassed.
"Sir, you can imagine we had a few other things on our minds," he started, but Snape cut him off.
"Indeed, it is clear that you did, as Miss Lavender Brown could surely attest to." Ron turned red, as McGonagall noted "That was mis-directed potion, as I recall, Severus."
"As I recall, THAT was Romilda Vane," Snape said smoothly. "I believe the incident…s…. with Miss Brown were entirely organic." Ron felt ready to sink into the floor. "But that should not be an issue this term, I expect, and you will be able to fully concentrate on your studies, as you will need to, in order to earn your N.E.W.T.s and prepare for whatever career you decide to pursue. Professor McGonagall, I assume you've had the chance to review Mr. Weasley's records and identify what…talents…he may possess?"
"Of course, Headmaster," McGonagall replied, pulling out a longer piece of parchment, labeled "Ronald Weasley, Career Assessment." "It appears that an apprenticeship in the Department of Magical Objects or the Department of Muggle Relations might suit you."
Now faced with the stern faces of Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster, the idea of running a Quidditch shop seemed embarrassing. Ron struggled to remember what else he'd said on the train. His mind was a blank, but he at least he knew he wasn't interested in Muggle Relations. He thought of the most ambitious paths he could imagine. "I was planning on a Quidditch career, or being an Auror." Snape glared. "Sir," Ron added.
At this Snape issued a characteristic snort. "Pursuit of Quidditch will be left to the recruiters. As to being an Auror, regardless of your recent demonstrations, there are high standards required of Aurors, among them excellence at their schooling and recommendations from the school staff. To prepare you for such a path, I would need to revise your schedule for the term." Snapping his fingers at the house elves yet again, he commanded "Show Mr. Weasley what the school schedule for Auror preparation would look like, please."
The smallest of the house elves dug into her pile of parchments and found the one she was looking for, and handed it to Ron, who choked as he read it.
"But this is more classes than I've ever taken in a term, for both terms! Sir."
"Indeed," said Snape.
McGonagall spoke, though with considerably more kindness in her voice. "Being an Auror is a very competitive position, Ron, with high standards and requirements that haven't changed, despite your recent acts. If this is indeed what you want to pursue, you'll need to apply yourself this year. That's why your class was invited back. Last year was an attempt at normalcy, but not enough was accomplished, as you can well imagine. It is a lucky opportunity that you and your classmates have been given, with an additional year nearly free, though how that's been financed is anyone's guess."
Ron looked glumly at the schedule. Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy, Advanced Potions (still!), but there were a few others listed, as well. "What're Occlumency and Legilimency? Never heard of those before, sir" he asked.
"This is a new experimental class we have decided to add in order to further develop select students' skills prior to graduation. It refers to both seeing another's thoughts, as well as blocking someone from invading your own."
"Wow," Ron breathed, impressed. "Now that actually sounds useful." Realizing what he'd said, he stammered, "in addition to all the other useful stuff. Sir. I guess I'll sign up."
McGonagall handed him a quill and he placed his signature at the bottom of the curriculum list. As the ink dried, he asked "Who's teaching the new class, Occlumency and Legilimency? Is it Trelawney or someone new?" At this, a small smile, one far more worrisome than the usual scowl, played across Snape's mouth.
"I am."
"Why are you so pale?" Hermione asked when Ron wobbled into the common room a few minutes later. "Are you coming down with something?"
Ron related the results of his career counseling session and the new classes, groaning about having two classes with Snape. "At least I didn't pass out," he added.
"Occlumency and Legilimency are fascinating," Harry insisted, telling them about his experiences in the previous year, but leaving out the private parts of his invasion of Snape's thoughts.
"Wow, that's amazing. Usually that's only learned one on one and in secret. We're lucky to get the chance," Hermione noted. "What's your apprenticeship?"
"I'll be assisting Madam Pince in the library. 'You'll need all the time in the library you can get, to make up for lost time, Mr. Weasley,'" he added in his best Snape impression. "How books will prepare me to be an Auror, I can't figure." Hermione gave him the whack he deserved.
Some time later, Hermione came back to report that she was matched to Medi Wizard, Magical Law Enforcement, International Magical Cooperation, or Historian. Her apprenticeship would be with Madam Pomfrey. Unsurprisingly, Neville was matched to Herbologist and would be assisting Professor Sprout in the greenhouses. Ginny was matched to Auror or Magical Law Enforcement and would be working with Professor Jones in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dean Thomas was matched to Muggle Relations or the Department for Spell Development and would be working with Flitwick in Charms. Seamus Finnegan matched with Wandmaker, with experiential learning on school holidays with Olivander.
Harry embarked on his meeting with some trepidation. Entering the Headmaster's office, he still felt it strange to see Snape behind the desk instead of Dumbledore. It still felt strange to have the understanding he now had of Snape's role in his life, though the mixed feelings were slowly resolving towards respect and admiration. His multi-year habit of distrust and loathing was slower to give way than he expected, his heart taking longer to make the change than his head. He wondered if Snape felt the same way, or if he had ever witnessed Snape's true feelings about anything outside the Pensieve and his Legilimency lessons.
"Mr. Potter, please have a seat and your Head of House will take you through your recommended careers," Snape said with no particular warmth, as though the past years hadn't taken place, as though the trial hadn't taken place, as though this were a normal counseling session between a Headmaster and any ordinary student. Harry fumed silently, nearly wishing for even some undue enmity.
McGonagall read down her parchment and noted that he was matched with Auror, but would have a good bit of schooling to take on, as well as to improve his performance, to which Harry agreed. He also was matched to teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as the Department of Experimental Charms and Reversals. He looked forward eagerly to Occlumency and Legilimency, though he expected that Snape was much less pleased at the prospect. His apprenticeship was to be assisting in the Potions lab, probably as remedial work.
"Sir," Harry asked after signing off on his class list and apprenticeship assignment. "Do you mind if I ask to speak to you alone for a few moments?" Snape appeared irritated. He and Harry hadn't had a private discussion since Harry's last visit to the hospital wing before spending the summer at the Burrow. Only Snape's personal note on his school invitation bespoke of any deeper relationship between them.
"If Professor McGonagall is finished, perhaps," he said, gesturing to Harry's head of house, who stood.
"Yes, that is all I needed. Good day to you both and good luck to you, Harry. Choosing the Auror path is not an easy one, but you haven't had an easy path to date. This will require more discipline than you've shown yet." With that vaguely unsettling remark, she left, the house elves following behind her. The door shut with a click, followed by the slide of a bolt in the lock as Snape flicked his wand at it.
Harry took a moment to look around the Headmaster's office. Surprisingly, it was very similar to how it had been in Dumbledore's time, with a warm fire, paintings of all the prior Hogwarts headmasters posted, and small magical instruments on tables, shelves, and cabinets lining the walls of the room. The large oaken desk was now clear of any of the silver or glass objects and was covered now with several books (Magical Careers and Their Requirements, current edition; Compendium of the World's Wizarding and Witchcraft Colleges; Higher Magical Education; So You're Not Auror Material: a survey of practical jobs to suit any profile), as well as numerous parchments in organized piles.
"Thinking I might redecorate, Potter? Perhaps with pink kittens?" Snape muttered, following Harry's gaze.
Harry snapped back. "No, sir." Harry recalled one of his last times in Professor Umbridge's office, when Snape denied having Veritaserum to enhance her interrogation. It was a painful memory, compounded by the remembrance of his many detentions with her. In the right light, the scars still remained on his hand. Then he realized that, for the first time in his presence, Severus Snape might have been joking. "But I did wonder if you'd move down to your dungeons."
"No time for that, these days. Unlike my predecessor, I have not abandoned teaching," he said, gesturing to the newly-added painting of Dumbledore, who shrugged in a slightly embarrassed sort of way. "Professor Hunter is taking up rather a large amount of space there for a teacher hired only for a one-year stint here. Also, she and I will also be doing a substantial amount of research, which takes up a very good deal of the lab space in the dungeon. In your apprenticeship, you'll be assisting." Snape followed this with a grunt that Harry interpreted to mean that he was rather displeased with having to share his previously solitary space with anyone, especially an outgoing person like Professor Hunter. He'd already heard many of the younger students raving about her, especially those who'd had Snape for Potions previously. The first years didn't know how good they had it, but seemed to like her. Harry wondered how on earth Snape could have selected someone so different from him to be his Potions colleague. Wouldn't he have conducted interviews? Or hadn't he the strength?
As if reading his mind, which Harry realized might be a strong possibility, Snape only said "She has an excellent professional reputation in the Potions community and I simply don't have the time to deal with dunderheaded underclassmen, in addition to upper level dunderheads and the new classes." Snape set aside the other parchments, facing them down in deference to the privacy of other students, and pulled out the scroll with Harry's name. "What more can I do for you, Mr. Potter?" he said, eyeing the words on the parchment closely.
Harry struggled to begin. At least Snape no longer spit out his name like it was a pus from a bubotuber to which he was referring; Harry considered this to be as close to an embrace as imaginable from Snape. "Sir, I've been considering applying to wizard college."
Snape did not reply, but raised his eyebrows, as if to say "And….."
"But all the applications require the signature of a parent or guardian, and, well…." He trailed off, then started again. "I asked McGonagall and she was quite sure that this was required and as my Head of House, she didn't qualify."
Snape stretched back in his chair and looked pensive. "Yes," he concurred after a moment to think. "This is a requirement. You will find, Mr. Potter, that the paperwork required in the wizarding world, at least among those who choose to observe the usual rules and regulations," he added pointedly, "are lengthy and inflexible. How Dumbledore got on without scribes, I may never know." At this, the portrait of Dumbledore took on a considerably more smug appearance. "So, that presents you with a quandary, does it not?" Harry almost thought Snape appeared pleased at this.
"The obvious solution is to press into service someone as a godparent to you, though you have reached your majority."
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "That's what I was thinking."
"Who were you thinking of," Snape asked distractedly, his quill at the ready.
Harry waited until the headmaster looked up and met his eyes, a look of annoyance at this delay. "You, sir. I was hoping it would be you."
Snape set the quill down slowly and leaned back, still regarding Harry with what appeared to be annoyance. "You must be joking, Mr. Potter."
He doesn't want me, Harry thought desperately. He doesn't feel the pull of the bond I feel. Harry began to feel rather alone again, but pressed on, undissuaded. "No, sir, I'm not. I can't think of anyone better suited."
Snape snorted. "Though no doubt you've wracked your brain with the effort." Harry got the sense, yet again, that perhaps this was Snape humor. He smiled tentatively, but the headmaster regarded him with a serious look. Leaning forward with his elbows now resting on the parchments and his hands clenched together in a tight grasp, he said slowly "You have no idea what this means, Mr. Potter."
Harry was warmed by the depth of this unexpected emotional response, and smiled, gaining in confidence that perhaps Snape did see him differently now, that perhaps something new could grow from this point further.
"That's very kind of you to say, sir, I had hoped you'd feel that way, as I do..." Harry very nearly gushed with relief.
"That's not what I mean, Potter," said Snape testily, sitting back again and slapping down his quill. "I mean, there is more to this than just signing a form for college. This is a lifetime commitment."
"I- I know, sir," Harry stammered, mildly offended with the headmaster's response.
"No, you don't. Because if you did, you would certainly choose someone more qualified than me."
Harry was stunned for only a moment and continued on. "I did think about it, I decided on you."
"Harry," Snape said impatiently, "if you HAD in fact thought about it, you would choose someone who could offer you more. The godparent relationship is a binding one, for both persons, until death. In your case, having no living parents, I would be to you exactly as a father, as James would have been, as Sirius Black was. I would be obliged as your parent until death, not just through college, but through your marriage, any children that might result, and so on." Snape paused, letting this sink in, then resumed his emphatic lecture. Harry began to feel like he was in Potions class again, having not read the book, having no idea was gilderfloss would do if added to foxglove, unable to differentiate between frog bones and spider teeth. He was getting the feeling that Snape had little interest in being bound to him for five minutes, nevermind for life. "Let me be sure you understand clearly, you would also have obligations to me, as a son would to his father. And my…obligations…would also be yours."
Harry muttered, "I see."
"If you saw, Potter, you would make a better choice," Snape spat out. "I have nothing to offer you, Potter, nothing." His voice dropped to the low and dangerous voice that usually meant a detention or failing grade was heading his way. "I have no property to speak of and no fortune, despite the rumors from the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. I have binding sentence from the Ministry of Magic that will last for at least 50 years. And a reputation that is somewhat tarnished in the eyes of many in the Magical Community, on both sides. That is a burden that I would not wish on anyone I actually cared about."
Harry was taken aback and found he was actually breathing hard from the exertion of Snape's words on him. Had Snape been on the other side of the desk, he would no doubt have Harry by the lapels at this point.
"Almost anyone else you could choose could offer you more, Harry. Anyone. I know you have your own fortune, between James, Lily, and Sirius. You should think about someone else, not a poor schoolmaster under a dark shadow. Think of your future." Here, Snape paused, and his gaze tore into Harry's soul. "Think of what your parents would want for you."
Harry's mind raced with this information as he bit back painful memories of his parents and Sirius Black. He had known this conversation would bring up both his parents and the godfather they had chosen, but he had not reckoned on this forceful resistance. Even when he imagined a decline on Snape's part, and he had pictured this many times, it was generally short and to the point, not a lecture. But Harry had planned on this being difficult, for what in his dealings with Snape had even been otherwise? He had planned on being persistent. Partly because he had no real back-up plan.
"Anyone I actually cared about." Did that mean he did or did not care about Harry? His concern for Harry seemed at odds with his clear desire to have no bond to him. Harry needed to know, needed to understand where he stood.
"The Weasleys already have enough on their hands, and they wouldn't accept my offering them my fortune, they are too proud," Harry said.
"Too proud for their own good," Snape muttered.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt has too much going on at the Ministry still," Harry noted.
"Indeed."
"Yes, exactly," said Harry, accelerating as he named others. "Xenophilius Lovegood tried to get me killed, so I'm not too keen to ask him." Snape grunted his assent. "And Charlie Weasley has taken a position in Brazil, chasing down more Death Eaters to bring to trial. You see, sir, I have considered my options, these and others. And I choose you, if you'll have me." Harry stopped, afraid to get the answer, but had run down his list of possible candidates and the problems they each presented. "I'm sure you'll need time to think. Good day to you sir," Harry said, standing to go.
"You have not been dismissed, Potter," Snape said sharply, gesturing to the overstuffed armchair Harry had just vacated. Harry sat down. Was this really the time to observe all the tiny rules of their unequal relationship?
Snape brought his long hands together thoughtfully, his fingers on his chin. The fire continued to crackle as they faced one another. Softly, as though he wanted no one else to hear, Snape said "I accept your proposal. Harry."
Harry's relief was immense. Snape stood and offered his hand across the desk, which Harry took in his gratefully. His grip was both stronger and warmer than Harry had expected, but still stiff and formal, with no joy or excitement in it. Once the handshake was over, Harry asked, "What's next then, headmaster?"
Snape aimed his wand at the door, the bolt unlocking, followed several seconds later by the entrance of a house elf. Harry noted with pleasure that this one had a Gryffindor tie on. "How can I help, Headmaster?" he asked with a deep bow.
"Collect the paperwork necessary for the establishment of a godparent-godchild relationship and begin the planning for the Binding ceremony," Snape said.
"As you say, sir," the house elf said and returned only seconds later with a stack of papers nearly two inches tall.
Still standing, Snape shuffled through the papers, handing Harry half of them. "You will fill these out by the end of the week." Harry gasped at the sheer number of the forms. Just the first few were dense and required an incredible amount of information about him, his parents, his grandparents, the rest of his family.
Harry protested. "Sir, this is a lot of work! I have Astronomy all night Wednesday, homework every night, Quidditch practice Tuesday and Thursday, and my apprenticeship ('in the Potions lab, like an endless detention' he thought). Can I also get a house elf to help?" At this, the house elf turned to Harry with an excited look on his face.
"Even as your godfather, I would be expected to maintain my neutrality towards you as headmaster of this school," Snape said with more pleasure than Harry would have liked. "You wouldn't want me to damage my hard-earned reputation for fairness, would you? On my desk by Friday, 5 o'clock sharp." Snape allowed a smile to creep into the corners of his mouth. "I did mention this means more than you know. Best get started, Potter."
Harry rose, carrying the large stack of papers. As he reached the door, Snape mentioned casually, as though he were announcing the dinner menu in the Great Hall that evening, "Oh, and by the way, any living blood relatives will be required to witness the Binding, which will be on Saturday afternoon. I'll expect you to handle that, Potter."
Harry was halfway up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower when his delight at Snape's acceptance wore off and the realization that he would have to have Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley there. This was, indeed, more than he knew.