Chapter 12
They suited one another so well that even attending Sunday services together had become a pleasant part of their relationship. Elphinstone, a factual and agnostic man, was skeptical of most of what took place in the little Presbyterian church that Minerva had belonged to all her life, but he claimed to enjoy it all the same. It had inspired many deep and exhilarating discussions between them about all the unknowns of the universe, their magical abilities, and what might happen after death. And as Elphinstone sat watching attentively from the front pew as the two newest members of the McGonagall family were brought forward to be baptized, Minerva thought proudly and affectionately of how pleased she was that they had taken this next serious step together.
“By the power of your Spirit, bless this water, that it may be a spring welling up to new birth and everlasting life,” recited Reverend McGonagall, dressed in his Minister vestments with his hand held over the water that filled the baptismal font.
“Amen,” Minerva murmured the appropriate response, while she cradled her newborn nephew, Logan, in her arms.
Logan was dressed in a long, white christening gown that he could almost be lost in - he was so tiny. His identical brother, Bryson, was sleeping soundly in the arms of his Uncle Robert. Their births - only two days ago - had been the most joyful way Minerva could imagine wrapping up what had already been the most fulfilling summer of her life. She now had two little nephews to follow behind Kirsty, Maggie, and Jean.
Minerva had hurried over to see the babies just as soon as the invitation from the proud parents had arrived and Elphinstone had shifted his schedule to be at the ceremony with her that morning. He was going to have to return to the Ministry just as soon as it ended, but Minerva cherished his presence right now and was delighted to know that her whole family felt the same way. Her father treated him like an old friend he’d known all his life and her mother never missed an opportunity to remind Minerva how much she liked him. All three of Minerva’s nieces had bestowed on him the title of ‘uncle’ by their own volition several weeks ago - a gesture that had initially made Minerva feel pressured but which she’d also found too sweet to really have any objection to. Jean had even perched herself on Elpinstone’s lap to watch the ceremony.
“Logan Malcolm McGonagall,” said her father, and Minerva brought him forward for the blessing. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
The baby was abruptly awoken when his grandfather poured the water over his head. He let out a huge wail of protest and thrust his pudgy little fists out to the side - a startle reflex that quickly revealed itself to be so much more when a forceful wind suddenly surged through the chapel - snuffing out candles and causing the Reverend’s stole to begin fluttering so threateningly that it might have been blown off his shoulders if he hadn’t gripped onto it fast enough.
“Finite Incantatem,” said Minerva under her breath.
The gush of wind ceased blowing at Reverend McGonagall immediately. Minerva stepped back from her father and shared an anxious glance with Robert, who had moved forward to take her place with Bryson. They both knew that what they had just witnessed was an unmistakable display of accidental magic - a cause for celebration in pureblood families, but a source of embarrassment for their muggle father.
Reverend McGonagall's lips were pressed into a thin line. Though none of his parishioners were in attendance for this private family ceremony, he was surely remembering all the times that his own children had gotten into ‘funny mischief’ as he'd long ago dubbed it - though it had never made him laugh. He carefully straightened the stole hung over his shoulders while Constance used the baptismal candle she was holding to light all of the ones on the altar that had been blown out.
Minerva expected her sister-in-law to come take Logan off her hands now that the part the godmother was required to hold the baby for had ended, but Constance just gave her a wink before returning to stand at Malcolm’s side. They then proceeded with welcoming Bryson into the church as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, while Minerva rocked Logan and was pleased to discover that she was successfully soothing him all on her own and did not actually require assistance.
Bryson let out an identical cry to his brother when the water was poured over his head, but now everyone was at the ready to dispel any display of magic and nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Meanwhile, Logan’s cries had reduced to a soft whimper like a purring kitten. He stared up at his aunt with bright blue eyes, slightly crossed, and not entirely focused yet. Minerva was probably just a big blob to him at present. He couldn’t even hold his own head up right now and was helpless in every possible way - but already bestowed with the extraordinary gift of magic.
“You’re a powerful little guy, aren’t you?” Minerva whispered to him.
She had displayed small but noticeable signs of magic from her earliest hours as well, her mother had once told her. Toys that had been left on upper shelves were found in her cot, the family cat had appeared to do her bidding before she could talk, and her father’s bagpipes had occasionally been heard to play themselves from distant rooms. The secret that Isobel had kept from her husband had come to light because of Minerva's accidental magic. It was a difficult truth to behold and Minerva had always sympathized with the Reverend, who had been forced to contend with it ever since.
“Want me to take him?”
The baptisms finished, Malcolm had come over with his arms held out to take back his son, but Minerva found that she wasn’t ready yet. Having achieved the triumph of getting a baby to stop crying all on her own, Minerva felt like savouring that moment for a little bit longer. She’d realized that her confidence had grown since the girls had been babies that she was always fearful of dropping. Now she was experiencing a contentment and perhaps even some longing that made her reluctant to give the baby up. Logan felt so warm and cozy in her arms, smelled so good, and she was curious if she might get him to fall back asleep if she kept rocking him as she was.
“When he starts to fuss again, I’ll give him back,” she told her brother with a smirk.
“You'll have to find me first,” Malcolm retorted. “Check all the beds or even the floor - I haven't slept since they were born.”
“You’ve got to pace yourself or you’ll burn out,” Minerva said, bestowing a kiss on the baby - her lips taking up his entire face.
“That’s easier said than done,” Malcolm replied. “They don’t sleep more than an hour at a time and even when they are, Constance and I are too afraid to look away lest something happen.”
“Well, after lunch you can both rest as long as you'd like,” Minerva told him, her eyes still locked onto Logan. “I'm staying, so I can mind them for you.”
“I thought you were returning to Hogwarts?” her brother asked.
“Tonight,” Minerva replied, and her brother raised his eyebrows at the gloomy tone her voice had suddenly taken. “I've got a lot to do before the students get there, but I’m not in any real hurry.”
She wished that the same could be said for Elphinstone, who had already gotten to his feet and was gently prying Jean’s arms from around his waist. The Minister of Magic himself had floo called their flat that morning and breakfast had been interrupted by the arrival of several owls from different departments that all needed something from him. Still, Elphinstone had prioritized coming to Caithness to celebrate Minerva's nephews anyway - there seemed to be no limits to the lengths he would go to prove that she was first in his life.
“You look so sweet holding him,” he smiled as Minerva walked over to join them.
Minerva returned his smile but silently wished that she could ask him to stay longer. Last night she’d had difficulty falling asleep because she couldn’t stop thinking about how the next time she went to bed it would be alone in her quarters at Hogwarts. She wasn't looking forward to returning to work the way she usually did. Sure, it would be nice to get back into a routine and Elphinstone would come visit at weekends and she’d make trips back to London - but that wasn’t the same thing as sharing a home together. Unfortunately, they were both needed in different places.
“Auntie, can I have a turn holding the baby?” Jean asked eagerly.
“Of course you can,” Minerva replied, “but you’ll have to sit down first.”
Jean plopped back down in the wooden pew with her hands held up at the ready and Minerva had no sooner sat down beside her and settled the still wide awake baby across her lap - with careful instructions on how to support his head - before Maggie was rushing over from the other side of the church to object.
“No fair!” she complained, “why should you get to hold a baby first? I’m older than you!”
“None of that,” Jenny scolded, stepping down from the altar where she’d been helping the Reverend to clear up. “You’ll all have a chance, but right now Granny wants a photo taken of the whole family and Uncle Elphi has to get going so we can’t be all day about it.”
It was still a chaotic bit of business to get everyone in the family into the frame. Robert had run back to the house to baste the turkey and place the pot of potatoes on the burner at his mother’s instruction. They’d had to wait for Bryson to finish feeding and then Kirsty hadn’t been pleased when it was Maggie who got to hold him for the photo instead of her.
“They’ll get to see the babies all the time and I won’t because I’m going away,” Kirsty said sullenly, leaning her head against Minerva’s shoulder as she sat down beside her.
“Dear, you can’t expect anyone to pity you when you’ve been counting down the days until Hogwarts and teasing your sisters about it all summer,” said Minerva, even while she wrapped an arm around her. “Are you excited?”
"Please”, Kirsty rolled her eyes. “My trunk has been packed since the day Mum and Dad took me shopping in Diagon Alley.”
“You're going to have to write and tell me what house you're sorted into,” Elphinstone told her, his hands on both Minerva's shoulders as he stood behind her for the photograph.
Malcolm had taken the old muggle camera that the McGonagall’s used to capture all their family milestones and was trying to discreetly charm it to take the photo on its own so as to avoid fussing with the self-taking timer that always led to a great deal of frustration. If the Reverend had noticed the brief appearance of a wand in his church, then he chose not to say anything. Perhaps he was as eager to get the photo over with as the rest of them.
“Are you sure you can’t come back to the house for a bite to eat before you go?” he asked Elphinstone politely, taking his place beside him with Robert and Malcolm, while the women and children sat on the bench in front of them.
“I really can’t,” Elphinstone replied. “I received more than a dozen letters this morning and I can't keep them waiting much longer.”
And true to his word, he was on his way just as soon as Isobel was satisfied that at least one of the shots they’d taken had everyone looking in the right direction and smiling.
“I wish you could stay longer,” Minerva confessed between kisses, once they were alone together outside the church. “I wish I never had to say goodbye to you.”
“Would you like me to walk into the Ministry and quit?” Elphinstone asked, only half joking as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Selfishly yes, but I can’t imagine a worst moment in time for someone like you to do that,” Minerva replied, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I'd do it for you,” Elphinstone reminded her.
“I have way too much respect for what you do to ask you to leave it for me,” Minerva said, as she had several times before. “Your level headed voice of reason is needed by the Ministry and Dumbledore values the information you're able to pass onto him from your vantage point. I can’t have you giving that up just to wait around in Scotland for me to have a free moment.”
“So we’ll carry on as we are then,” Elphinstone said simply. “We'll have weekends. I can be satisfied with that.”
But Minerva was no longer sure that she could be. She kissed him a final time and felt a tremendous sadness overtake her. Nothing she had just said was new to either of them. They’d had the same conversation several times before and she couldn’t imagine how anything would change anytime soon. She didn’t want to marry until she felt prepared to give her all to him. Perhaps that was just her being stubborn. Maybe she was still just afraid.
She watched with regret as he disapparated with a pop back to the Ministry. Then she slowly turned to go back into the church and rejoin her family. Her mother, seeming to sense intuitively where her head was, pulled her into a loving hug that Minerva reciprocated gratefully. Then they walked arm and arm back to the house - slightly apart from the others.
“You know, it’s not too late for you,” Isobel said gently. “I saw the look on your face when you were holding the baby.”
“Mum, you already have five grandchildren - don’t be greedy,” Minerva attempted to keep her tone light, but she could tell she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I just didn’t want him to go.”
“Then why are you forcing yourself to be apart from him?” Isobel pressed. “You clearly love him.”
“I do,” Minerva admitted.
Isobel gave her a squeeze. “I used to have doubts that there was any such man in existence who could measure up to you - especially once you shut yourself away from the outside world at Hogwarts.”
“It’s not a convent or a prison,” Minerva scoffed. “I come and go as I please.”
“But it’s not exactly a job you clock out of at the end of the day, is it?” said Isobel.
“No, it’s more like a calling,” Minerva agreed. “Haven’t you ever felt like you were really called to be something?”
“Yes, your mother,” said Isobel matter-of-factly.
“Well I feel that way about teaching at Hogwarts,” said Minerva confidently. “I’m good at what I do - I’ve become one of the most respected masters of Transfiguration in Britain.”
“Yes, you’re very talented,” her mother agreed.
“I love imparting that wisdom to my students - but it’s so much more than that,” Minerva continued, her spirits lifting slightly as she spoke. “I teach them for seven years and then I become part of their lives forever. I can’t go anywhere without a former student coming up to me. I've left a lasting impression - in a good way - on more than just a handful of them.”
“And nobody is saying that you have to give that up,” Isobel reminded her gently. “You’ve got a man who made it very clear he’d drop everything for you. You don’t have to give up your career.”
“But then I'd be telling him to give up his and how unfair would that be?” Minerva replied. “If I get married - I want it to be fair to both of us.”
Isobel sighed. “I think you should let Elphi decide what’s fair to him…unless you're just using that as an excuse to cover up your cold feet.”
They entered the kitchen and the subject was dropped as they busied themselves setting out all the dishes for the luncheon they were having to celebrate the twins’ baptism. Still, Minerva’s heart remained very heavy. She didn’t want to be selfish and it seemed rather wrong to take from Elphinstone when she was not willing to sacrifice anything for him. She hadn’t allowed falling in love with Dougal to replace everything else in her life and it wouldn’t be right to allow Elphinstone to do so for her now either …
Which was what she kept telling herself back at Hogwarts, when she stood in her clean and orderly classroom and wiped tears from her eyes.
Everything was ready and waiting for the students, who would be arriving on the train for the start of term welcoming feast tomorrow. Hagrid had the thestrals - who would be pulling the carriages from Hogsmeade station - organized and the boats that traditionally took the first years across the lake had all been inspected as well. The kitchens were prepped and full of a celebratory joy at the commencement of a new school term after a quiet summer. In the absence of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva had been called upon to review the additions that Argus Filch, the caretaker, had wanted to add to the list of banned items at Hogwarts and she’d checked in with all the teachers and other faculty as they arrived and settled back in.
“Excuse me?”
There was a polite knock on the open door of Minerva’s classroom. She carefully wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve before she turned around to observe an unfamiliar young woman with long blonde hair braided down her back and fashionable rose coloured robes.
“I’m Calandra Cholmondeley,” she introduced herself.
“You’re our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, aren’t you?” Minerva asked, as she recalled the name she’d read on the updated staff list left out on the headmaster’s desk. “I’m Minerva McGonagall.”
There had been a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher every single year that Minerva had taught at Hogwarts. She never bothered to ask too many questions about the incoming hire for that post in advance because she knew the odds were that they wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter much anyway. It was enough for her to observe that Professor Cholmondeley seemed good-natured and would hopefully manage to teach the students something worthwhile during her time at Hogwarts. With the popular rumour circling that the job was jinxed, Dumbledore often had difficulty finding someone suitable to take the job.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” said Professor Cholmondeley, “but I was supposed to meet with Professor Dumbledore ahead of tomorrow and he just sent me a message to say that he wouldn’t make it back in time and that I should check in with you instead.”
“Oh, of course,” said Minerva quickly, who was used to being expected to cover for Dumbledore without advance notice or a reason why. She took a deep breath to compose herself and then led the young woman out of her classroom. “Let me start by showing you your classroom.”
As they walked out of her room and down the corridor together, Minerva learned that her new colleague had been raised in Ireland but sent abroad for her education. Professor Cholmondeley had never even been to Hogwarts before - she’d told Minerva that Dumbledore had interviewed her for the job at the Leaky Cauldron in London.
“Well then I’d better give you a full tour so that you’re not as lost as all the first years will be tomorrow,” Minerva had replied, feeling like she’d rather be doing anything else.
Professor Cholmondeley was pleasant and engaging to be around though. Once Minerva had shown her to the classroom reserved for Defense Against the Dark Arts and the living quarters that would be her home for the next ten months, they wandered around the rest of the castle - all the towers, dungeons, floors, and halls. Minerva showed her the moving staircases and explained how to detect the trick steps that students had to learn to jump the hard way. She introduced her to every person, ghost, and elf that they passed.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you a map,” Minerva said reassuringly, as they walked out onto the grounds together after she’d shown her all of the castle interior.
“Calandra, this is Rolanda Hooch - our flying instructor,” said Minerva, when they came upon the witch coming out of the building where the change rooms for the Quidditch teams and her office were located.
Madam Hooch shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with the new professor before she turned her attention onto Minerva.
“Have you seen the brand new Nimbus broomsticks that the Potters bought for the Gryffindor team yet?” she asked with excitement. “There’s one for every player!”
“Yes,” said Minerva, with a small smile, “I was here yesterday when they were delivered. I even took one for a test ride - they’re worth every galleon, I’d say. Great speed and they respond to the lightest touch for sharp turns.”
“Hmm,” Madam Hooch smiled slyly, as she put a finger to her lip. “You don’t think it too unfair an advantage for the Gryffindor team to have top of the line racing brooms bought for them by a wealthy donor who just wants to reward you for making his son captain?”
“I was always going to make Potter captain,” Minerva shrugged. “He’s easily the best player on the team and everyone already wants to follow him. Of course it isn’t fair that some students have better brooms to fly on than others, but learning that life isn’t always fair is an important lesson in life - I was never going to turn down this opportunity for Gryffindor.”
“Yes, I suppose not,” smirked Madam Hooch, a mischievous glint in her eagle eyes. “Would you object if I took one for a spin?”
After entering the Gryffindor change room and admiring their top of the line broomsticks once again, she and Professor Cholmondeley watched Madam Hooch take flight and then Minerva suggested they walk back to the Great Hall for dinner.
“I’d be happy to review any lesson plans you’ve got prepared if you can get them to me tomorrow before the students arrive,” Minerva offered, before she left the new teacher in the hands of Hagrid and Professor Flitwick and decided to retire to her own rooms for a quiet meal alone.
She was just crossing the Entrance Hall when the door flung open and in came Albus Dumbledore, wearing a travelling cloak and carrying a briefcase. He smiled brightly at the sight of her but she thought he looked very tired.
“Albus, where have you been?” Minerva exclaimed, as he walked over and embraced her. “I expected you yesterday! What have you been doing?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” said Dumbledore vaguely.
Minerva scoffed and moved back from him. Though they’d corresponded infrequently over the summer, she knew nothing of where he’d been and what he’d been doing. The secrecy around his activity wasn’t altogether unusual, but it had still been the longest she’d gone without him since they’d begun working together and seeing him now made her truly realize the profoundness of his absence.
“I missed you,” Dumbledore murmured, as though he could read her thoughts. “Would you like to dine with me in my office? There’s some things I'd like to discuss.”
Minerva nodded and they headed up the grand staircase that would lead to the Headmaster’s Tower. She kept sneaking sideways glances at Dumbledore, curiosity overwhelming her now that he was in sight and a wealth of information that could surely explain everything behind what Elphinstone and the rest of the Ministry of Magic had been dealing with all summer. Dumbledore had informants and advantages that nobody else could come close to. However, once they’d arrived in his office and settled themselves at his desk with plates of all different meats, vegetables, and bread puddings and golden goblets filled with wine, Minerva learned that that was not what Dumbledore wished to discuss at all.
“A part of me was worried that you might not be coming back,” said Dumbledore, once he had helped himself to servings of all the different dishes.
“That’s ridiculous,” said Minerva tersely. “I’m the one who should have been worried about you - I managed to return to work on time.”
Dumbledore smiled as he raised his goblet of wine to her. “I must thank you for everything you’ve taken care of in my absence - especially looking after our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor today. Did you like her?”
“Yes, she’s fine,” Minerva replied. “I think the boys in her class will be extremely fond of her - so we’ll see how her classroom management goes.”
“She’s young, but she achieved very high scores in her Defense Against the Dark Arts examinations,” said Dumbledore. “Her ambition is to become an auror but some of her studies weren’t as extensive as Alastor Moody prefers them to be so he suggested she do a few more preparatory courses before enlisting. She’ll be able to complete those studies on the side and teaching for a year should be a good experience for her.”
“Yes,” Minerva agreed. “That all sounds fine.”
“I’m glad you agree,” said Dumbledore. “So did you have a good summer?”
Minerva nodded but did not elaborate. She didn’t feel like getting into all that. She’d already had to discuss her choices with her mother and did not feel like defending herself to Dumbledore right now as well. She picked at her food and drank more from her goblet.
“You should have written to me more,” she finally reproached him. “I didn’t have a clue where you were. You've never left me in the dark quite like that before.”
“I wanted to respect your space,” Dumbledore said simply. “I didn’t want to intrude.”
Minerva frowned. “Nothing has changed between you and I.”
She thought Dumbledore looked a bit uncertain as he dipped his chicken into a bowl of sweet and sour sauce. Minerva had known him since she was eleven years old. He’d taught her, mentored her, watched her grow up and then befriended her at a depth few people had ever been able to reach in her before. She loved him so dearly and theirs was a partnership unlike anything Albus shared with anyone else anymore. She’d never abandon what they shared.
“I missed you very much,” she told him truthfully. “I’d have liked to hear more from you. Elphi and I went to a dinner about a week ago with the Minister of Magic and some other high influences. Minchum tried to question me about you but I said that I hadn’t spoken to you since the end of term. I would have still told him that, even if we’d spoken every day.”
“I didn’t stay in one place for very long this summer,” said Dumbledore, after serving himself a bit more of the chicken. “I went out of the country - just something about a bit of distance from Voldemort and his Death Eaters helped me gain a little perspective. He’s not as much of an imminent danger outside of Britain - though the whole Wizarding World is watching very closely and he has sympathizers in every nation.”
“I know from Elphi that the Ministry has been working around the clock and accomplishing very little aside from still managing to hide things from the muggles,” said Minerva, “but the muggles are dying too. Nearly all the arrests made have been low-life thugs who were bribed with a bit of gold or else they’d been cursed and forced to do the things that they did.”
Dumbledore nodded. “That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. A while ago, you made a comment in frustration about how this school feels like it’s become a prospective Death Eater training academy - you weren’t wrong.”
“I was a little wrong,” Minerva replied. “It was prejudiced of me to say that. Take Andromeda Black - Tonks now - I never gave her a chance before because of her family and she's lovely.”
Dumbledore smiled. “I'm very pleased to hear you say that and I’m not saying that we should just presume certain students are going to be Death Eaters because their family is - but we shouldn’t be naive either. Everyone makes their own choices and everyone here at Hogwarts has the opportunity to do the right thing. The sooner we pay attention and the more we know…the greater chance we might have to persuade those students to our side or at least impress upon them that it's never too late to make a different choice.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Minerva nodded. “It builds our side and even if they do join You Know Who, our knowledge of his supporters might be an advantage.”
“Precisely,” said Dumbledore. “Now the reason why I missed my appointment with Professor Cholmondeley - did you know Eileen Prince?”
“Snape’s mother,” Minerva recalled, as the image of the woman who had written Hogwarts more than once to ask them to keep her son over the holidays and neglected to provide him even a proper coat came to mind. “What about her?”
“She committed suicide last July,” Dumbledore said.
“Oh,” said Minerva flatly, taken-aback. “Her poor boy. You just learned of this today?”
“Yes,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Eileen was estranged from the Wizarding World - the Prince family had disowned her for marrying a muggle and never recognized her son. I’m not really surprised I wasn’t informed until now. It’s not like her obituary was going to be published in the Daily Prophet.”
Just like Isobel - she’d been disowned by her pureblood family for marrying a muggle as well. Minerva and her brothers had never known their grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins. They had grown up in persistent isolation from the Wizarding World. A handful of times, a student with Isobel’s maiden name ‘Ross’ has come through the school - but Minerva had never bothered to examine this coincidence any closer. Some things were best kept buried.
“It feels negligent of us not to have known something like this about one of our students,” said Minerva uncomfortably. “How did you hear?”
“You aren’t the only one who has kept up with Andromeda,” said Dumbledore. “I’ve been in regular contact with both her and Ted throughout the summer. She’s been shunned by her parents and the entire Black family. Her sister, Narcissa, has been ordered not to ever speak to her again - but yesterday she defied that order and owled Andromeda. She wrote to tell her that she’s now set to wed Lucius Malfoy next year once she finishes school and mentioned that Severus Snape had spent most of the summer at the Malfoys since his mother died and his muggle father told him to get out.”
“I thought he’d been with Mulciber,” Minerva said, not that it was likely to matter. She was just recalling how Lily Evans had complained that Snape was blowing her off to chum around with Mulciber instead. Lily hadn’t said anything about Snape’s mother’s death, however. Perhaps because it wasn’t her business to share or she simply hadn’t known.
“Well, he’s part of it too,” said Dumbledore. “We can’t prove it, but we know that Lucius Malfoy is involved with the Death Eaters and the Mulciber family is under my suspicion as well - and a lonely, grieving boy is very impressionable.”
“He asked Horace for the opportunity to stay at Hogwarts and work to earn his keep back in June,” Minerva said thoughtfully. “Of course, he had to be told no, but that’s a boy who was seeking other options for himself and was turned down.”
“Horace thinks very highly of him,” Dumbledore agreed. “But the things he sees in that boy are the very things Lord Voldemort would want to recruit him for. I’d just ask that you keep a close eye on him once he returns to school. He might be operating under Lucius Malfoy’s influence or he might just be glad to be back in the safety of Hogwarts and decide he prefers our side.”
“Very well,” Minerva agreed.
She sympathized with the boy for the loss of his mother. Snape wasn’t a student that she could say she particularly enjoyed teaching - he was just there. Intelligent, quiet, awkward, and weird - an easy target for bullies and probably exactly the kind of recruit that He Who Must Not Be Named would seek. When he wasn’t being the subject of ridicule and needing to be rescued, Snape was practically invisible.
Minerva didn’t have evidence about his opinions on pureblood supremacy one way or the other. He didn’t say enough for anyone to guess what he was thinking. He couldn’t be judged for staying with Death Eaters if they were the only people willing to take him in. Hogwarts had turned its back on him when they’d forced him to return home and failed to check in even once. No wonder Snape hadn’t written to any of them for help after his mother had died and his father told him to leave. Snape had figured things out on his own like he'd always been forced to.
Of course, Minerva would keep a much closer eye going forward from here on out. She'd be as compassionate and approachable as someone like her could ever be. It wouldn’t be her fault if she didn’t like what she saw.