There was a time when she had indulged in the hypothetical for hours a day, plotting the map that had led her here. But no life is a line, and hers was an uneven orbit around a dark star, a moth circling a dead bulb, searching for the light it once held.

Anthony Marra

disclaimer

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership for the characters. This story is my own invention, and while compliant with the canon, is for entertainment only and not part of the official story line. I do not intend to profit financially otherwise from the creation and publication of this story.

Original text from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, by JK Rowling, Chapter 32

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to Rannaro, author of A Difference in the Family; the Snape Chronicles for inspiration. I have, in honour of your wonderful rendition of Snape, carried many of your character developments into this story. If you love SS, you must read Rannaro's works.

CHAPTER ONE

In the dim light of Dumbledore's office, as evening descended outside and the last rays of Autumn sun sheened through the mullioned windows, the Headmaster thrummed his fingers on his desk as he paused to contemplate his two companions – the Potions Master and the Transfiguration Master – sitting opposite him in comfortable chairs and waiting expectantly. The portraits were sleeping, a sure sign that it was a business-as-usual type of meeting, and the fire blazed with busy pops and ticks, at that point the only sound in the room.

Snape cleared his throat - a touch of impatience not so subtly communicated - and Dumbledore rewarded him with a half-lidded look of disdain for his trouble.

"Well then, since I am to be hurried, my decision is that I will take the liberty of authorizing a rebalance of Gryffindor points in view of your obvious prejudice, Severus."

Snape snorted. "That is prejudice itself, Headmaster. I resent the implication that I have been injudicious in my use of the system. As you said, the process has worked without complication for decades – including my entire tenure here. The…dramatic…variance of late reflects singularly on the student, not the master."

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "No, no Severus we've already covered this, I'm not suggesting there's been any impropriety but- "

"Potter has flown closer to the candle of contumacy than any other student in my teaching career," interrupted Snape, raising his voice a fraction. "And despite my efforts at maintaining some pretense of discipline and standard, he has been roundly rewarded for it. Are you seeking some kind of student rebellion by suddenly setting new rules? In effect making them up as you go along – or rather, Potter goes along?"

"Potter seeks nothing more than to fit in quietly -," McGonagall said, her voice rising in turn.

"Really, Minerva –," Snape muttered contemptuously.

"Ultimately the awarding of the House Cup is at my discretion," said Dumbledore, giving them a stern look each in turn, "and yes, I have, shall we say, compensated Gryffindor because in effect their deeds – and let's not pretend that Potter isn't hugely significant in these deeds – are proportionally deserving. Severus – the boy and his friends may have diverted disaster, the Philosopher's Stone alone, I mean surely you agree if Quirrell – "

Snape's eyes flashed. "The boy and his friends are meddling! They appear hell-bent on getting themselves into a situation from which they cannot be extracted, putting themselves and the school as a whole at risk and, I will be frank, my alternate duties under pressure. Were it Potter acting alone, well that's one thing, but he is insisting on making two other students accomplices, one of them Muggle-born – "

McGonagall nodded slightly. "I do agree with Severus on that."

"But witchcraft and wizardry cannot be done well without that element of risk, as you put it," stated Dumbledore, with a gentle smile at Snape. He was aware that the initial complaint raised by McGonagall had been sidetracked but felt the conversation had taken a course potentially more important, which was that of Severus' need for control, discipline and exacting standards. It was these character traits that had made him the most potent Head of Slytherin in 50 years, better than Slughorn if achievement records were to be considered, and contributed in great part to the incredibly successful careers of at least four Slytherin alumni. Snape turned a blind eye to Slytherin antics but showed no leniency on their productivity and caliber of work. He brooked no incompetence and the academic results spoke for themselves. This was one of the reasons that Dumbledore was hesitant to intervene when complaints were lodged, which they often did. McGonagall could be equally strict but tended less towards preventative measures.

Both Professors moved to speak, but Dumbledore held up his hands. "Please. Worthy as both your arguments are, they are equally matched and we may never conclude. I feel I need to assert my position here and I am sticking to my decision."

Snape huffed and crossed his legs, ensuring one boot stamped on the office floor as he did so.

"Severus, you've never hidden your deep-seated prejudice towards Potter since he started. For someone who places such emphasis on governance of emotion, you have quite a blind spot around this boy."

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore hurried to continue. "We know the history there, and thanks to the grapevine in this place, so now does the entire faculty. You need to demonstrate a greater degree of…discretion…when deciding to deduct points from Gryffindor as a result of Potter's behaviour."

"Sir? And what arbitrary line should I abide by?"

"Minerva, what did you say some of the points were lost for?"

"The children told me that the Professor deducted fifteen points from Gryffindor because they put their books on the desk too loudly," McGonagall was quick to supply, with no small amount of indignant satisfaction.

Snape failed to suppress a faint smirk at this but Dumbledore raised a brow at him. "For Merlin's sake, Severus, how can they put books down too loudly?"

"It was disruptive. Five points for each of them. They are capable of placing objects down quietly."

"I would never take points of Slytherin for something such as that," McGonagall said, nettled. "They're children!"

"Alright Minerva – "

"Well then what about the detention for Potter for, for putting his cauldron stirrer on the desk?!"

"The potion was acidic and has left a permanent burn in the wood. I expressly cautioned the students about it. Potter only hears what interests him. That is damage to school property through carelessness and negligence." Snape spoke clearly but his eyes roved about the room dismissively.

"Headmaster, the detention was three hours in duration!" McGonagall vented.

"Are we going to cross-examine each and every perceived offense?" Snape inquired caustically.

Again, Dumbledore refereed with raised hands and McGonagall crossed her arms tightly and pursed her lips.

"Severus, I will repeat myself for the last time. Harry is not James. You cannot visit the sins. If the Potter boy were not so obviously and integrally different from the other students, he would be absolutely the same in nature and in deed. I can scarcely find a desk in the building that hasn't worn the effects of determined and willful abuse at the hands of our charges, let alone accidental damage. Your view of him is corrupted and you are being, bottom line, unfair on him." Dumbledore sat back in his seat, determined not to show any of the signs he felt of his unease in confrontation. Accustomed as he was to his position as head of the school, tackling Severus Snape always required extra vigilance and nerve. The man excelled at having the last word.

Snape frowned heavily and set his jaw. In truth, his argument was insincere and did not carry conviction. He did pick on Potter. He found the boy irritating beyond belief. He could have stomached it better if he felt he had the backing of his colleagues, but found himself battling alone in trying to contain the enormous swelling that was becoming the boy's head. But perhaps more significantly, the boy had a penchant for wading into affairs that were out of his league. Affairs that were delicate. Complicated. That had taken Snape appreciable skill for him to engineer. He grudgingly recognized that Potter had been bequeathed a situation that was not of his design and had no ability to change. But did he have to act on it quite so willingly? And so recklessly?

The detentions and point-deductions didn't seem to make any material difference anyway. Potter remained an infuriating mix of Muggle-ish dimwittedness, impulsiveness, popularity and courage. He showed none of the supplication Snape expected from his own House, and if he applied half as much energy to his studies as he did for blundering into compromising situations, he'd be a star pupil by now. That damned Invisibility Cloak was possibly the worst instrument of ne'er-do-well ever conceived for a child such as Potter and would have been confiscated months ago by Snape if it had been up to him.

So, yes, he was unfair to him. Because the playing field had become unfair. And if no-one else viewed this as a problem, was it his responsibility to make up the difference?

"What is your will, Headmaster?" Snape asked. This was truculent and through gritted teeth, but he was in an ill-humour now. Dumbledore rarely put his foot down with him.

"Quite simple, Severus. Treat him as you would others."

"Thank you Albus," murmured McGonagall, opportunistically employing his first name in attempts to show a conciliatory side.

"And I am reinstating one-hundred points on the Gryffindor balance,"

Snape's mouth dropped open at that. "Headmaster!"

"Don't take affront, dear boy. I have been exceedingly tolerant with you in the past as you know."

McGonagall nodded approvingly and Snape took a deep breath. He was furious that the matter had been brought to the Headmaster's office to begin with without her pandering to bias and favouritism. Derisive comments formed in his head, but instead Snape's frown levelled out and the reigning in of his emotion was entirely visible. He stood. "Headmaster. If that is all? I take it, also, that there will be no consequences for Lupin over the boggart transgression?"

Dumbledore paused and exhaled, gazing with frustration at Snape. This was his way: if he didn't get what he wanted, he withdrew. It would be weeks before tempers would stabilize. He would be perfectly cooperative, abiding, polite. But distant. All interaction would be formal and official. And in spite of everything, Dumbledore enjoyed Snape's intellect, his strategic angle on matters and dry wit, and during these sulking periods, would miss his company.

"Please. Can you try to see it - ?"

"If that is all?"

Dumbledore was about to resignedly confirm that it was all, when he was hailed from the fireplace. All in the room turned to face it. After a blaze of emerald, Cornelius Fudge's head appeared in the flames.

"Dumbledore? Hello?" said the Minister for Magic jovially.

"Oh hello there, Minister! How do you do?"

"Very good, very good. Am I able to meet with you? Is now a good time? It's just that I have a dinner appointment in an hour, so if you're free…?"

"Oh, ah, yes I think so…?" said Dumbledore, raising enquiring eyebrows at his two Professors.

"Well, in fact, if your colleagues are finishing with you now, I wouldn't mind their involvement in the meeting…?" suggested Fudge.

Snape and McGonagall nodded their agreement, slightly non-plussed but covering it.

"Tremendous," said Fudge. "I'll just come through properly."

A moment later he stepped out of the fireplace and dusted himself off. He was in his usual ministerial attire of pinstriped suit, tie and waistcoat. He carried a black, softbound briefcase.

"Do take a seat," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the empty chair Snape had vacated. "Fruit pastille? To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"Oh thank you kindly," said Fudge, politely helping himself to a sweet, and then seating, his case at his feet and lime bowler hat on lap. "Hello Professor Snape…Professor McGonagall? Both well, I hope?" He popped the sweet in his mouth as they murmured assent.

"Now, sorry to drop in on you like this, but I wanted to make the most of an opening in my diary. I have some important news to tell you. There has been an executive decision made between the Wizengamot, the Department of Magical Education and the Board of Governors, and I have been mandated to execute this…this development…."

"I see," said Dumbledore, waiting expectantly, unsure how to receive this.

"The Ministry…in its profound wisdom as I'm sure you'll agree…there's been a series of investigations, in the way of background if you will, and the new Chair of the Board of Governors, Sir Bernard Byron as you'll know, very progressive chap – he's a half-blood – he has some ideas that, well you'll know about them from the board elections recently…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Yes, we were discussing him the other day, weren't we?" he glanced at his Professors for affirmation. "He was a student here of course. Around Snape's time?"

Snape raised a brow.

"He was probably one of our best graduates of Muggle Studies. Is that right, Professor Snape?"

"I believe so. I wasn't closely acquainted."

Fudge listened attentively. "Yes, yes, well there's plenty of debate about his…ideas about Muggles. At any rate, in his capacity as head of IMC he visited Scandinavia recently and we all know that the wizarding community in Scandinavia are considered very advanced…small, but, well arguably ahead of their times…"

"Yes, I have read about it," offered Dumbledore encouragingly.

"Well he has brought some ideas back; he's keen to try them. They may not work for Britain, but you have to keep up as you know."

"What sort of ideas?" Dumbledore prompted, steepling his fingers and realizing with this degree of hesitation from Fudge that they were unlikely to be popular.

"Well Sir Byron, as you know, lovely chap, very progressive, he visited the Advanced Magical Studies Academy in Sweden – AMSA – and was very impressed, yes, deeply impressed. He was there for three months, did you know? Speaks passable French and German…"

Dumbledore's suspicions about the purpose of Fudge's visit was starting to take form. He neutralized his expression.

"Anyway, he's returned recently to Britain and has decreed that he wants all British Wizarding Institutions to implement necessary change…improvements, I'm guessing we're meant to interpret that to mean… that would raise them to the level of an international standard. So based on the International Standard for Wizarding and Magical Excellence…you've heard of it?" Fudge glanced from Dumbledore to Snape and McGonagall with peaked brows.

"Uh, no," replied Dumbledore. McGonagall frowned and said, "I have possibly come across it in a journal or paper somewhere,"

"Why?" asked Snape, in a tone that implied his scorn.

"Well for fairly obvious reasons I should have thought!" Fudge replied evenly. "The time has come for British Institutions – fine though they are – to join the ranks of the international community. As you know, Byron won the Board election on the strength of his platform to work more cooperatively – both across borders but also with…with – "

"Muggles," Snape finished.

A strained pause in the room.

"Many people are still divided about his theory," remarked McGonagall, diplomatically. She didn't need to elaborate.

Fudge nodded vigorously. "Of that the Ministry is well aware. Well aware. His was an unexpected victory. Still, many think that the Great War would never have happened if we had the assistance of Muggledom."

"Surely first every endeavor to avert war must be made," murmured Snape, his expression carefully disinterested. "Would we risk exposure before knowing we absolutely require it?"

Dumbledore appraised him thoughtfully, and Fudge played a face of doubt but possibility. "There's no way of telling, is there. Risk leaving it too late and you've lost the war. Potentially at great, irredeemable loss. As it is, our demographic data tells us for generations that pure-blood numbers are shrinking. Soon they'll reach peak decline, and the loss will be exponential. Muggle blood has infiltrated to such an extent that we may be better to embrace our heathen brethren now."

Out the corner of his eye, Dumbledore noticed Snape stiffen. He wasn't sure if Cornelius Fudge was aware of Snape's half Muggle parentage or not, or more pertinently, his views on it.

Turning his focus back to the Minister, Dumbledore asked "So, this Standard? I'm sorry, Cornelius, is that the name for it? How does an Institution, such as Hogwarts, say, go about achieving it? To the satisfaction of the Board and Ministry, obviously."

"Good question, Albus. There is in fact a process. It is an audit. The Audit department has been created and auditors report to Bartemius Crouch. The Department appoints an Audit Team to each institution, who attend the site and, shall we say, evaluate the institution against a set of criteria. The higher the institution scores against the criteria, the closer to achieving International Standard it is. And Byron's goal is that all British Magical Institutions will attain standard within five years."

McGonagall appeared half baffled, half bemused. "But surely a British Audit Team would be self-interested in ensuring an Institution achieved the Standard. Wouldn't it be a rather expensive, resource-intensive, but ultimately meaningless exercise to go through?"

"No, no, Professor, the team is completely impartial and to keep it that way, international members of the Standard are on each team. Plus, the institution must provide evidence of how it complies with the criteria – it's not enough to simply state that it does so," replied Fudge. It was impossible to tell at this point where he personally stood on the subject.

But Dumbledore did. The description alone was giving him a headache. Surely the Ministry had more important things to worry about? Behind him, Snape's contemptuous cough gave voice to his own silent opinion.

Fudge didn't miss it. "I know it sounds quite bureaucratic, but really Byron is quite insistent upon it. He views it as an imperative step to sustaining the future of our prime wizarding institutions. He understands quite a lot about Muggle artefacts and their technology and how the Muggles are always advancing with their new things. I expect he worries that we risk stagnation. Time stands still for none, not even witches and wizards."

"I fail to see," said Snape, "how the same instruments that were responsible for separating the two worlds, can also be the means of rejoining them."

"Ha ha, yes, good point indeed," smiled Fudge, even though Snape's expression was as stony as ever. "You really should think about communicating some of your thoughts to Sir Byron yourself. But I may attempt an answer. He describes it as readiness. My dear Professor Snape, as a potions master I needn't tell you how futile it is to attempt to force two inglepots together when they're cold. But if you warm them up a little first, and then ease together very gently in the right place, then can't two inglepots become one?"

Snape was not impressed. "It would be difficult to find a more simplistic analogy."

"But you understand my point, dear chap. Byron feels there is a climate of readiness. And whatever we may think on the subject, his winning the election surely points to some truth there?"

Snape regarded him coolly. "And what," he asked smoothly, "would be the consequences if Hogwarts decided against being audited?"

Dumbledore watched the Minister's reply with interest, rather glad it was Snape who asked the question.

Fudge chortled. "You can't just, just decline, I'm afraid. It's a decree. An instruction, an order. I daresay, if you were so foolhardy as to refuse, then I imagine the Board might exercise its authorisation to challenge the appointment of Headmaster. I mean, surely," he glanced at each of them in turn, "you can't have that much to hide. Is there any reason why you wouldn't simply comply with what is not much more than a bit of a procedure?"

Snape was preparing to speak, but Dumbledore hurriedly interjected. "I'm sure the good Professor is merely curious to understand how it all works. We've no intention of causing trouble for the Governor. But what is being proposed sounds a bit more than a procedure…it sounds as if it might be quite invasive and terribly inconvenient."

Cornelius Fudge laughed good naturedly as he reached down to retrieve his briefcase. "Well I'm not sure exploring all these medical synonyms is making the proposal more inviting. I urge you to read some literature on the subject that I'll send through presently. It will explain everything, hopefully better than I have, ha ha. Good lord, is that the time?" He stood and placed his hat on head into its comfortable spot, mumbling a verbal charm that ensured the hat was affixed despite weather or perhaps riding a broomstick.

Dumbledore stood and came around the side of the desk in order to shake Fudge's hand. He offered him a small enamel box containing his store of Floo, of which Fudge accepted a pinch.

"Must be off, I'm afraid, I am meeting guests for dinner. Just before I go though, I do want to reiterate that this needn't be difficult, I know I can rely on you all to join with the Ministry on this. Can't I, dear Albus?"

Dumbledore inclined his head just a fraction, as Fudge turned and entered the fireplace. "The Hungry Hag", he announced clearly, and disappeared.

Dumbledore turned to face his companions, and was greeted with resounding silence. "Well. Well, well. I think we should take the advice of the Minister and make this whole business a lot easier on ourselves by not resisting, but taking the medicine quickly in one gulp. I will call a meeting of all faculty members the day after I receive the Minister's literature and we can discuss it in more detail. But now, my dears, it is late, and your Houses will be convening for their dinner. I will see you down in the Great Hall in mere moments."

McGonagall and Snape left then, exiting the Headmaster's office into the hallways without exchanging pleasantries as they normally did. Of opposing Houses they may be, but there was always respect between the two Professors. Snape, however, felt grievously betrayed by McGonagall on this occasion, and she was astute enough to expect it.

About to go their separate ways, Snape nodded his head curtly at McGonagall but she opted to speak. "Severus, I have never before challenged your good judgement- "

Snape held up his hand. "No matter. I have been given my instruction by the Headmaster, of course I will comply."

"I know but- "

"You might like to consider, however, taking a firmer hand with the boy yourself. Gryffindor has already permitted atrocious behaviour from its students in the past, and it would appear highly conceivable that…events…are repeating themselves. I wouldn't advise leniency with him."

McGonagall, of course, knew exactly to what he was referring. She had been there, borne out the arguments and justifications and excuses from her own House students. But he's a Death Eater! they rationalized time and again as she admonished the conduct of the Marauders, after repeatedly returning Snape's belongings, or repairing some damage. Not that Snape needed her assistance, even as a fifth-former he was better at a number of hexes and spells than she was.

"I will keep a close eye on Potter," she promised him in a confidential tone. Snape turned on his heel with a swirl of his robe, and stormed off down the corridor.