He may not have had any romantic feelings for Hermione, but Harry could have happily kissed her at this moment.
Fudge may have placed notices of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Eight around the castle overnight, instating Umbridge as Headmistress, but the older law held precedence in Hogwarts. Therefore, “according to Hogwarts, A History, Second Edition, page 295, paragraph 6, if the Headmaster or Headmistress is forced to flee Hogwarts and an outside force tries to instate a Headmaster or Headmistress of their choosing, it is seen as an attack on Hogwarts and her students. Furthermore, those students are obliged to vote for a new Headmaster or Headmistress to reduce the chances of outside forces gaining control over the school. They will vote whether to reinstate the former Headmaster or Headmistress if they can return to their post. All parties must abide by the student’s decision; any attempt to do otherwise will see disciplinary action enforced upon them by Hogwarts herself. I would hold out on any celebratory moves, Professor Umbridge, as you have not yet guaranteed your right to the office,” Hermione declared smugly.
She got a round of applause from almost all the students and most of the Professors (Harry even saw Snape clap five times), and a vote was organised to be held in three days.
Harry was eating lunch at the Great Hall the day before the vote. He’d snuck out last night to visit the library and had stayed up all night reading the second edition Hermione had referenced. Scar throbbing through most of the morning, irritated due to lack of sleep, and annoyed at how “the vote” was all anyone was talking about (“Who are you going to vote for?” “No, not her, are you mad?” “I might vote for him.”), Colin’s innocent question was the last straw.
“What about you, Harry?”
“What about me?”
“Well, you must have some opinion about who would be good in loco until Dumbledore returns. Why don’t-”
Why hadn’t he noticed until recently how much everyone thought the sun shone out of the (old) man’s arse? Dumbledore this, Dumbledore that (he conveniently ignored how, until the start of this year, he had been one of them).
“If you want my opinion, Colin, all you had to do was ask,” Harry snarled, not noticing how his voice had risen. Most students stopped talking, hoping to get a glimpse of The Chosen One’s thought process. Colin didn’t notice the implied sarcasm, eagerly watching him.
Harry waved his wand, creating a grid and pictures of the Hogwarts staff in mid-air. The grid had writing along the left-most column, which read:
I will vote for
Second choice(s)
Don’t know them well enough to decide if they’d be good or bad
Would be bad for student’s mental health if they won
Wouldn’t accept even if they won the vote
Not eligible due to a rule
I would rather Voldemort be Headmaster than this person(1)
“Paragraph 7 of the edition Hermione quotes from to get this vote ruled that candidates must have taught at Hogwarts for three years. Yes, that means teaching, not just being in the school,” he stated, swishing his wand and sending the pictures of Hagrid, Umbridge (amidst furious shrieks from the woman in question and delighted laughter from the students - even some of the other Professors), Firenze, Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pince and Argus Filch to the second from the bottom row.
“Paragraph 8 rules they must also be alive,” sent Binns’ image to join the others that hadn’t made the cut.
“Who would you put in the bottom category, mate?” Ron grilled. Due to having his back to the rest of the students, Harry hadn’t noticed how much interest he had garnered. Ron had, along with almost everyone in the Hall (including the man in question), expected Harry to send Snape’s image straight to the bottom row.
Harry swished his wand in answer. A murmur ran through the Hall when the man’s image didn’t move from its position, and it took a few seconds for them to notice the occupant. A roar of laughter burst from Snape’s lips at the sight of Umbridge’s face, occupying two categories. More shrieks of indignation left the 3D, breathing version of her face.
“Mate, why put her in two categories?”
“She’s the only one I would genuinely pick Voldy over: at least with him, you know to expect pain. You don’t expect the Ministry toady to make you do lines with a quill that uses your blood for ink,” was the shocking reply, resulting in Umbridge going down under a barrage of spells from almost all the wand-carrying members of staff. When the smoke finally cleared, a pink-coloured liquid was on the floor, which McGonagall gleefully Evanesco’d. Without a word spoken about it, all staff agreed to adopt a policy of ignorance if anyone from the Ministry came looking for her (for some reason, no one ever did. They shrugged: she wasn’t as well-liked as she thought she was).
Ignorant of what had occurred at the Head Table, Harry continued.
“I don’t know there well enough to know if they’d be good Headmistresses,” he mused, swishing his wand and sending Professors Babbling, Burbage and Vector into the third from the top category, “and I won’t continue with the rest unless the Professors that wouldn’t accept the title if they won the vote send their images into that category.” He looked up to the Head Table, surprised that they seemed to have been paying attention to his rankings.
A few moments later, Madam Hooch sent her conjured face into the third from the bottom category, followed by Professor Sinistra. After a minute longer, when none of the other Professors sent their faces into that category (most seemed to be pleased with their current placement), Harry continued. Turning back, he was left with the faces of the four House Heads and Professor Trelawney.
“One last elimination then. While I’m sure some think she’s a great Professor (mainly, those whose deaths she doesn’t predict in every class), I don’t think it would be good for the younger students if, instead of the start of year announcements, there were predictions of dying pets, things people will lose and future illness concerns. Therefore, Professor Trelawney gets the chop,” Harry declared, sending her face to the middle column with a swish of his wand.
A final swish sent the remaining four faces into the second from the top column. Severus was surprised he’d made it that far up the list.
“I’m sure most of you expect me to vote for Professor McGonagall, as she’s my Head of House,” Potter stated. Minerva preened smugly, acting like her Animagus form.
“She’s a wonderful Transfiguration Professor, and I’ve never had an issue with her as Deputy Headmistress,” the boy continued, before trailing off seeming to not know how to continue his point. After ten seconds, he seemed to pick the track up again.
“Professor Flitwick, how often do you visit the Ravenclaw common room?” was the non-sequitur Potter asked. To Severus’ right, he saw Filius blink once, twice.
“Once a month, minimum. More often if there’s an announcement or problem.”
The brat nodded before moving his gaze.
“Professor Sprout, same question?”
“Once a fortnight, potentially more often if necessary,” Pomona responded after a short pause. He could see Minerva slowly turning red; she knew what point the boy was trying to make, but he hadn’t caught up yet. He focused as Potter’s mouth opened, gaze fixed on him.
“Pro-”
“Once a week minimum.” the boy whistled softly, looking… impressed?
“I have been in the Headmaster’s office more times than I’ve seen Professor McGonagall in the Gryffindor Common Room. In fact, I reckon Professor Snape had visited the Slytherin Common Room more by the end of September in my first year than McGonagall has in the almost five years since I started at Hogwarts. She seems to be neglecting the job that should give her the most interaction with students in preference to the ones with the most interaction with paperwork and homework. The message I read from that is a blatant “I don’t care about you”, which isn’t a good message for an aspiring Headmistress to give to her students,” Potter declared.
That was… a shock.
Severus knew she wasn’t keeping a close eye on her students.
But - really?
Four or five times?
In five years!?!?
(For once, he didn’t automatically disbelieve something Potter said)
(Was the world ending?)
Severus looked to his right. Out of the two remaining candidates (he didn’t fool himself for a second thinking Potter would vote for him), he thought both would be good at the job. However, he had a slight preference for Filius.
He was fairer.
“I vote for someone who puts the students first and knows what needs to be changed to give students a better school life. They won’t take nonsense from the Board, parents who think little Johnny is perfect (even if little Johnny is a bully who’s failing every class), or other Professors. I think they could be the Head Hogwarts needs at this time,” declared the boy. He followed this with one last flick of his wand.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Daaaaad! Come on! What happened after?” asked the younger sibling.
“Who got voted in? Tell us!” demanded the elder.
“All right, all right! Let me have some fun. The following day, Professor Snape got voted in-”
“I knew it!” declared the older sibling.
“Who’s telling the story?”
“You,” mumbled the two children.
”Then let me tell it. Right. First, the new Headmaster fired Binns and replaced him with a living Professor, which raised overall exam results by two whole score levels on average and led to there being a NEWT class in History of Magic for the first time in decades. Trelawney asked to be rehired, and for Firenze-”
“The centaur?” asked the younger sibling.
“Yes. She wanted Firenze to be fired. However, Headmaster Snape told her - well, the child-friendly version of what he’d said was that she was still fired and should also look for accommodation elsewhere, effective immediately. She left in a huff, and those two firings drastically improved the student’s opinions of him. The Headmaster also had a discussion with Potter. No one knows what was discussed, but from that day on, their relationship went from “downright hostile” to “friendly”, which also helped improve relationships between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Potter visited the Headmaster’s office weekly and spent hours there - they’d even leave the castle together sometimes.”
“Were they dating?” asked the younger sibling.
“Ophiuchus! How dare you imply that! They were in Hogwarts!”
“That implies they would date once Harry graduated,” Ophiuchus responded.
“Well, they didn’t. In fact, I think they may have been doing something to get rid of Him - or at least, that’s the impression they gave when Dumbledore returned at the end of the year. He obviously wasn’t best pleased when he realised he couldn’t waltz back in and continue being Headmaster, but there’d also have to be another vote. He still thought he’d get voted back in until Potter stood up.”
“I thought you said Harry was “Dumbledore’s little loyal soldier”,” declared the older child, making air quotes with his fingers.
“Up until then, I always thought he was. It seems he stopped around the time Professor Snape became Headmaster. Potter insinuated that Dumbledore had dumped him on his Muggle Aunt’s doorstep in the cold without a blanket less than 48 hours after he became an orphan and was responsible for many students getting injured due to hiring people who were negligent or letting various creatures into Hogwarts. Due to Potter’s unexpected opposition, Professor Snape remained Headmaster.”
“Good,” declared Ophiuchus, his older brother nodding in agreement.
“It seemed Dumbledore was desperate to remain Headmaster, as he made some weird insinuation that He had important artefacts that needed to be destroyed, and Potter was one of them, whatever that meant. The Headmaster and Potter seemed to understand what Dumbledore was talking about, though, as Potter declared, “We know - the goblins already removed it from me last month”. Dumbledore seemed shocked at that news and looked even more so when Snape said, “Potter and I just need to get the last one before we can end it”. To this day, if anyone understands what that conversation meant, they aren’t saying.”
“What happened to Voldemort?”
“Ophiuchus!”
“Fiiine! What happened to Him?”
“Headmaster Snape killed Him halfway through our sixth year and your mother’s fourth. He got an Order of Merlin, First Class and his own Chocolate Frog Card. a week later, I overheard Headmaster Snape complain, asking Potter why he couldn’t have pretended to have killed Him. Potter replied that he was letting the Headmaster experience all the “joys” of fame for himself since the man had thought he’d enjoyed being famous at 11. They were still arguing when I was out of earshot.”
“OPHIUCHUS!”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Where’s your older brother?”
“He’s with me.”
The door opened behind them. A medium-height witch with brown hair and eyes glided into the room, a smile gracing her face.
“What are you all doing here?”
“We were asking Father about Headmaster Snape,” declared the older child.
“Did you know he’s the person who cured my Blood Curse?”
“No!”
“Really?”
“Why don’t you write to him and ask? We made him your godfather, Scorpius, or did you forget that? Go on, off you go,” chided Astoria. They watched the children leave.
“Did either of them ever tell you what the artefacts were?” Astoria inquired.
“No. In fact, Severus made me Swear never to look for more information, and I agreed - anything that makes The Man Who Killed Voldemort scared is something I want no part in,” Draco declared.
“Quite right, dear.”
Críochnaithe