Chapter 22: Fallen From Grace

The Hogwarts staff room buzzed with tense conversation, its normally comfortable atmosphere heavy with uncertainty. Professors gathered around the long oak table, casting anxious glances toward Minerva McGonagall as she took her place at the head of the table. Her expression was resolute but clearly burdened with a profound weight.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Minerva began, her voice steady yet somber. "By now, I'm certain you've heard rumors regarding Albus's sudden removal from his position."

Filius Flitwick leaned forward slightly, his expression serious and deeply thoughtful. "Is it true, Minerva? Did Albus truly go as far as they say?"

Minerva sighed softly, folding her hands together carefully on the tabletop. "I'm afraid the evidence was undeniable. Albus manipulated Harry Potter's life, withheld information, and cruelly coerced Severus Snape into obedience through magical contracts."

Pomona Sprout gasped softly, covering her mouth in shock. "I suspected Albus might've bent rules occasionally, but coercing Severus? Manipulating Harry? It's difficult to fathom."

Flitwick, shaking his head in solemn agreement, added quietly, "I feared he might be withholding things from us, but I hoped it was merely protective caution. Not deliberate cruelty."

Minerva nodded, a rare flicker of sorrow crossing her face. "I too wished to believe he acted in our best interests. But these manipulations go beyond justification. Albus lost sight of what Hogwarts stands for."

Horace Slughorn, fidgeting anxiously with his waistcoat, cleared his throat nervously. "What happens now, Minerva? Hogwarts has been destabilized by this scandal. What do we tell the students when they return?"

"We tell them the truth," Minerva replied firmly. "Hogwarts must stand for honesty, transparency, and fairness once again. It's time to rebuild trust."

The professors murmured their agreement, though their concern remained palpable. Minerva met each worried gaze firmly, her voice rising slightly. "This school is stronger than one person, even Albus. Together, we will weather this storm and restore Hogwarts to the place it should be."

Slowly, determination replaced doubt in the eyes of her colleagues. They nodded one by one, ready to stand united behind their new Headmistress.

Severus Snape moved quietly through Hogwarts' corridors, the silence of the castle almost comforting in the late-summer emptiness. Students had yet to return, leaving the halls eerily still. As he approached his private quarters near the dungeons, Snape felt an unfamiliar sense of relief. He was returning openly, freely, for the first time in decades, without Dumbledore's shadow hovering darkly over his every step.

He entered his quarters, gently lighting candles with a wave of his wand. The soft, flickering glow illuminated shelves stacked meticulously with potions ingredients and books, all meticulously arranged—his one solace amid years of controlled chaos.

A soft knock at his door broke his reverie. Opening it cautiously, he saw Minerva McGonagall waiting quietly in the corridor. Her expression was gentle, almost hesitant.

"Severus," she began softly, "may I speak with you privately?"

Snape stepped aside, allowing her entrance. "Of course, Minerva."

She entered slowly, observing his modest quarters thoughtfully. "I owe you an apology," she said, voice quiet but sincere. "I always suspected Albus's methods weren't entirely ethical. I never imagined he'd use your past against you so cruelly."

Snape regarded her silently, emotion flickering briefly in his dark eyes before vanishing behind practiced control. "You had no way of knowing his true nature. He carefully hid his methods from all of us."

McGonagall shook her head gently. "I could have looked deeper. My trust in him prevented that." Her voice trembled slightly, unusual vulnerability seeping through her typically stern demeanor. "I deeply regret any suffering you've endured because of it."

Snape hesitated, then slowly inclined his head. "Your apology means more than you realize."

McGonagall took a deep breath, visibly gathering herself. "The board wants you fully reinstated, Severus. You are cleared of all suspicion. Hogwarts needs you."

Snape felt a powerful surge of gratitude but quickly suppressed it beneath his carefully maintained calm, "I'm sorry Minerva but I don't see myself staying, but I'm confident you will rebuild the school's reputation. You will always have my friendship and respect."

She sighed then offered a warm smile. "I'm not surprised you want a fresh start, I'm honored to have you as a friend."

In the comfort of their cottage, Harry paced restlessly as Hermione sat quietly at the kitchen table, carefully watching him move. The weight of their imminent decision about Hogwarts had grown heavier with each passing hour, neither eager to make the final call that would distance them further from familiar comforts.

"Hermione," Harry finally spoke softly, turning to her with deep uncertainty visible on his face. "Are you sure this is the right choice?"

She met his gaze calmly, nodding with quiet confidence. "I think it is. We can't afford to split our attention. Hogwarts will be a target. If we're there, we risk endangering everyone we care about."

He approached slowly, sitting across from her. "I know. But part of me still hoped we could return, have something like normal."

Hermione reached out gently, grasping his hand across the table. "We will, Harry. Someday. But right now, the war has to come first. Our priority is ending Voldemort."

Harry sighed deeply, looking down at their intertwined fingers. "Professor McGonagall deserves to hear our decision personally. She's supported us this entire time."

Hermione nodded firmly. "Tomorrow, we'll tell her. She deserves our honesty."

He squeezed her hand softly, drawing strength from her reassuring presence. "Alright. Tomorrow."

Lucius Malfoy paced restlessly within his luxurious private study, the heavy curtains drawn tightly against prying eyes. The revelations regarding Dumbledore had disrupted everything, creating dangerous uncertainties even for someone as cunning and well-connected as himself.

"Father," Draco's voice broke through his thoughts, quiet yet firm as he entered without knocking, clearly agitated.

Lucius halted his pacing abruptly, frowning at his son's bold intrusion. "Draco, now is hardly the time—"

"No," Draco interrupted, an unusual determination in his voice. "Now is exactly the time. Dumbledore is disgraced. Snape openly opposes the Dark Lord. Everything is shifting, and we can't pretend it's not."

Lucius hesitated, eyes narrowing carefully. "Your point?"

Draco stepped closer, unafraid despite his father's stern gaze. "We need to distance ourselves from Voldemort immediately. He's losing control, becoming reckless in his anger. He will sacrifice us without hesitation."

Lucius sighed deeply, turning away briefly to gather his thoughts. He knew Draco was right, yet caution had always defined his choices. "Your proposal carries risk. Open betrayal would mean immediate death."

Draco remained firm. "I'm not suggesting open betrayal. Only careful distancing. Public neutrality. We can't risk everything by continuing to openly support him."

Lucius studied his son thoughtfully. Draco was maturing quickly, showing unexpected wisdom. "I'll consider your words carefully, Draco."

Draco nodded slowly, recognizing this as an acknowledgment of his point. Quietly, he withdrew, leaving Lucius alone with his troubled thoughts.

The cavernous hall echoed with Voldemort's fury, his wand slicing violently through the air, shattering nearby furniture and décor. His followers, cowering in fear, watched helplessly as their master's rage consumed him.

"How dare they?" Voldemort hissed dangerously. "Dumbledore falls, and Potter stands stronger than ever!"

Bellatrix approached carefully, her voice low, cautious. "Master, allow us to strike swiftly—"

He spun viciously toward her, eyes blazing with fury. "Potter grows stronger daily! Snape walks freely, mocking my authority! How have you allowed this to happen?"

"My Lord," Bellatrix whispered pleadingly, "let me hunt Snape. I will bring him back to you."

Voldemort stared at her coldly. "No. Snape will be mine personally. Gather our strongest warriors. Inform them to prepare for immediate war."

Bellatrix bowed quickly, retreating fearfully. Alone, Voldemort stared at his trembling hands, his rage gradually focusing into icy determination. "No more games, Potter," he whispered viciously into the silence. "The next time we meet, it will end with your death."

Snape arrived swiftly at Harry and Hermione's cottage, carrying parchments and maps in a leather case, urgency evident in his movements.

"Voldemort is beyond furious," Snape began immediately as he entered. "He's preparing immediate retaliation. He will attack openly, ruthlessly."

Harry and Hermione exchanged serious glances, moving quickly to examine the documents Snape spread across the table. Snape outlined Voldemort's strategic positions and likely responses, his voice steady but intense.

Hermione quickly absorbed his explanations, making careful notes. "What are your recommendations?"

Snape indicated several points on the maps decisively. "Reinforce protective wards immediately. Alert trusted allies—Luna, Neville, Flitwick. Have McGonagall secure Hogwarts completely."

Harry nodded, noting Snape's careful preparations. "We'll meet with her tomorrow to discuss it. But Severus," he paused, sincerity evident, "what about your safety?"

Snape looked startled at the sound of his first name, then softened slightly. "I will manage. Right now, your safety is paramount."

Hermione gently stepped closer. "We want you protected too. You're family now, Severus. We won't abandon you."

Snape met their gazes quietly, deeply moved. "I'm not accustomed to relying on others, but perhaps it's time I learned."

Later, alone again, Harry and Hermione sat quietly beside the fire, emotionally drained yet deeply connected. The cottage felt safe, insulated from the growing threat.

"We're ready," Harry whispered softly, gazing at Hermione thoughtfully.

She met his eyes warmly. "As long as we're together, Harry, I don't fear what's coming."

His gaze softened as he reached forward, cupping her cheek tenderly. "Neither do I."

Hermione leaned gently into his touch, pulse quickening slightly at the intimacy. "You mean everything to me, Harry. I can't imagine facing any of this without you."

Harry leaned forward, closing the distance between them until their foreheads gently touched, their breaths mingling softly. "You'll never have to."

With deliberate slowness, he pressed his lips softly to hers, tender yet deeply meaningful. Hermione responded warmly, the kiss deepening naturally, both silently promising loyalty, trust, and unwavering love.

When they finally drew back, Hermione smiled softly, her heart full of quiet joy and strength. "No matter what happens, Harry, I'll stand by you."

Harry held her gently, understanding the profound weight of her words. "Always," he whispered, holding her tightly, certain nothing could break their bond now.