"It can't be the Malfoy boy."

Carrow sneered, his jealousy of the young man and the life and luxuries his family had provided him barely concealed by his contempt. Severus sighed, placing his fingertips on his temples, which throbbed heavily. He'd only wanted to teach the Dark Arts class—he hadn't wanted to deal with the minutiae of the headmaster position. Selecting a Head Boy and Girl, not to mention Prefects, was a perfectly useless task.

All the more frustrating that he couldn't simply give the positions to the choices Dumbledore had made. The halfblooded Abbott girl and muggleborn Finch-Fletchley were included on that list. That was unacceptable.

And after his failure to kill the old man, Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly in the Dark Lord's good graces either.

Severus could feel the beginnings of a headache.

"I'll figure it out. Leave."

Alone, in the office of a dead man, Severus considered his options. He needed two—a boy and a girl. Slytherin, or at least pureblood. Not Draco Malfoy. He thought of Dumbledore, and of the students he still felt a need to protect—all of them, the Abbott girl and Finch-Fletchley included. He sighed.

Slytherin, or at least pureblood. And, preferably, disinclined to participate in the violence that he felt certain would soon begin to befall some of the students.

He wasn't in a position to protect any of them.

But he could avoid putting those who might revel in the violence in a position of power.