Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. The author does not claim or imply the rights to any item related nor belonging to the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter XX

The Headmaster

Harry wasn't quite sure what he was staring at the next morning when he opened his eyes.  All he saw was red.  It was a brilliant scarlet that seemed nearly transparent—yet, it also seemed to snatch and contain the morning rays of light.  It shimmered gloriously.

He lay there just staring at the color, his head resting softly on a down-filled pillow. For a while, he squinted, trying to make out what he was looking at, but it was just a blur, as he didn't have his glasses on.

Not that it mattered much. He couldn't move, or was at least convinced of it.  His whole body ached.  Slowly, as he began to think of why he was in this state, the previous night's events swam to the surface of his mind: the Cruciates Curse that Draco Malfoy had set on him: the tight cords that had bound him: the time he had spent clinging onto the back of a Magus Mare: and the struggle with Voldemort.

He sat bolt upright as he remembered the vision that had come to him as he had ridden up the Minister's drive.  The one of Snape on the ground and of Dumbledore—clutching at a failing heart—and that laugh…

Blindly, he reached around for his glasses.  There was a nightstand at his bedside and his fingers brushed against some medicine bottles before them.  As he situated them on his nose, the red thing in the room fluttered and landed softly at his side.  Harry turned to Fawkes' head brushing at his shoulder.

While it was comforting, at the same time it greatly disturbed him.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was still raw.

Fawkes just blinked back.

With a bit of determination, Harry forced his aching body out of bed.  At first, he was afraid that his legs would decide not to hold him.  Shakily, he stood up, grabbing a bedpost for support then Fawkes flew over and rested on his shoulder.  The bird was big: the size of a goose or swan.  Harry's shoulder wouldn't have been large enough to hold the bird several years ago, but now, somehow the weight of the bird wasn't what he expected and he also managed to feel stronger with it there.

He snatched his robes where they had been draped over a chair and started hunting for his shoes.  Once he had slipped them on, he hurried out of the room with Fawkes clinging to his shoulder.

"Harry, dear.  What are you doing up?" came a startled Mrs. Weasley as Harry hurried down the stairs.

"I want to go back to Hogwarts," he said quickly.

Mr. Weasley had stood up and watched as Mrs. Weasley ran over.  "You shouldn't be up so soon." She looked ready to hug him but she seemed unsure what to do since he had a phoenix perched on his shoulder at the moment.

"Dumbledore," Harry asked nervously, "where is he?"

Mrs. Weasley turned to her husband.  Arthur walked over. "We don't know, Harry.  We don't know.  He and Voldemort had both disappeared by the time the aurors got there."

Harry swallowed.  "And Professor Snape?"

Mr. Weasley's face showed signs that he hadn't slept the night before and there seemed to be wrinkles on his face that Harry hadn't quite remembered seeing before.  "Sirius Black succeeded in bringing him back, but…I will be going to Hogwarts to check on him and Mr. Lupin."

"Is Lupin all right—and Sirius?"

"Both were injured, but will recover."

"Can I go with you?"

"What?"

"Can I go with you when you go to the school?" Harry asked.

Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to like that much.  "I think he should stay here, Arthur.  He needs to rest before he faces the students.  Harry, you've been through enough already."

"No," argued Harry.  Fawkes' presence was definitely making him feel stronger.  "I want to find out what happened to Dumbledore and Professor Snape." It was strange.  Him and Ron had joked about Snape getting knocked off numerous times but now that he might actually be faced with the possibility… "May I go back?"

"Arthur…" Mrs. Weasley placed a hand on Harry's free shoulder.  "I don't want him under anymore stress.  He needs rest."

"But Molly, I think that if he wishes to come a long—he deserves to."

Mrs. Weasley frowned and let out a sigh.  "Well, you take care of yourself." She attempted to smooth his hair.

"I think he's already proven that he's quite capable of doing just that," Mr. Weasley commented fondly.  "Now we'll be leaving by portkey whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready now," Harry stated firmly.

"All right then.  Off we go."

"Not without breakfast!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply.

Harry turned to face her.  "I need to find out what happened," he said kindly.  Her eyes began to well with tears.  She was actually a few inches shorter than him, so when she finally decided to hug him, her head only came to his nose.

"I'm worried about Dumbledore too," she whispered.  She had started to cry and Harry suddenly wanted to as well but then Arthur came and pulled Molly away.  He held her for a while until she managed to gain some composure.  "See to it that Harry gets rest.  I don't want any Ministry Officials asking him all sorts of questions."

"I'll see that they keep their distance.  I have say over that now."

As Harry followed Mr. Weasley to the garden, he noticed that he now walked with a distinct limp.  Harry then remembered Percy.  He began to think about Voldemort.  Had Voldemort survived?

His mind suddenly flashed him images much like last night only this one was of a fireplace.  He had seen it somewhere before, but he wasn't quite sure where.  A dream perhaps—yes.  It had been a dream.  Pain shot through his scar and he forced the image from his mind.

"Ready?" Mr. Weasley asked, stopping by an iron hitching post with the bust of a unicorn mounted on top.

Harry nodded.  "What about Fawkes?"

"Um," Mr. Weasley thought.  "He should be able to take care of himself."

Together, they grabbed the hitching post and Harry found himself being pulled away.  His feet touched ground in Hogsmeade.  Fawkes had remained fixed to his shoulder the whole time.

"Minister." Harry heard Mad-Eye-Moody's voice.  "You traveled alone?" He almost sounded as if he were scolding.

"Just to here, Alastor.  Besides, I had the great Harry Potter with me." Mr. Weasley said this attempting to sound cheerful but there was a darkness underneath that could not be covered up.

Harry followed Mr. Weasley and Moody back to Hogwarts.  Along the way, he noticed that Moody's eye kept swiveling around to peer at Fawkes.  He followed them up the front steps and through the main doors.

The entrance hall was lit by golden shafts of light filtering through the windows and dancing off the dust floating in the air.  They weren't walking quickly as Mr. Weasley's crippled pace was slow, but as they neared the end, Harry saw standing there: Sirius, Lupin with a bandage tied up around his jaw, and Professor Snape, leaning on a pair of crutches.  When Harry spotted them, he took off running, feeling somehow rejuvenated.

Fawkes released his shoulder and flapped his great gold and scarlet wings.

When Harry stopped and stood before them, all three had merely glanced at him before their eyes landed on Fawkes who fluttered down to rest once again on Harry's shoulder.  The expressions that then crossed their faces were not what he had been expecting.

Sirius started to blink hard as if fighting back tears as he continued to stare at the bird.  Lupin had a similar expression only he put a hand to his head and pulled on his cheek and a tear actually fought its way free and ran down his nose.  Severus Snape had stared at the bird too, but he had turned away, hiding his face.

Harry now knew; Dumbledore was dead.

*

The halls didn't feel the same.  Nothing was the same.  There was always something amiss in the week that followed.  Classes were solemn and there were no disciplinary problems; even Filch was not so mean, nor Mrs. Norris so menacing, and the only thing that Harry saw Peeves do was push over a suit of armor once while he floated glumly down the hall.

There was no place to get away from it and Harry had the added pain of having Fawkes refuse to leave his side.  Once he went down to Hagrid's hut to inquire on how to care for a phoenix, but Hagrid had been so desperately miserable and had shed fresh tears at the sight of the bird that Harry had not returned.

The following week was the week of final testing; they had not been cancelled.  Now Harry had to face his O.W.L.s.

Monday morning he sat staring blankly at the pages of his Potions notebook.  He wasn't retaining anything that he studied.  His mind kept wandering.  There was a question that nagged at his mind and over everyone's in the magical community: what had happened to Voldemort?

From what he had heard, by the time Sirius and Lupin had got there, they had only found Severus and Salazar Snape wounded—Severus more critically—and the aurors dispatched to take care of the Death Eaters had informed that Voldemort's followers were fleeing.  Something had happened to Voldemort.

It was always then that Harry was reminded of the visions he had had and sometimes when he thought of them, he'd see more.  More of the fireplace and of the dark interior of a manor that looked as if it hadn't been lived in for fifty years.  Then suddenly, one of a graveyard—and a headstone that read: TOM RIDDLE.

Harry looked up from his notebook.  Now he knew what he was seeing.

He slammed the book closed and headed out of the common room. He had to find Sirius.

However, before he could get to the staff's quarters, he was stopped in the hall.  There was an argument and Snape's voice was echoing up ahead.

"You know very well that Draco Malfoy participated!" he yelled.  "I have already spoken with Minerva and the house heads and we all agree that he is to be expelled."

Harry backed up.  This sounded like one argument he didn't wish to accidentally step into.

"You can't expel a student without a headmaster!" Professor LeSal argued back.

"You can with the approval of the Deputy Headmaster and House Heads."

"You're dooming that boy if you do, Severus," LeSal spoke more quietly.  "You're resigning him to our own fate."

Snape paused before saying, "He's already lost."

"Maybe—but I'm not so ready to give up."

"Look what he did to Potter!" Snape said more loudly.  "If it hadn't been partly for Draco Malfoy, Albus might still be here with us."

"Don't you dare," LeSal shot venomously.  "Don't you dare put that blame on that boy's shoulders."

"I don't. Not all of it.  Though someone does carry most of the burden."

There was dead silence.  Harry dared to peer around the corner.  It was a standoff.  Each Snape was staring down the other in the lone corridor.

"That wasn't my fault, Severus," LeSal whispered.  "I tried to stall…"

"Yes, you did—and I don't even want to ask about the appalling death of that muggle I read about in the Daily Prophet."  Snape appeared very cold while the look on LeSal's face was mixture of pain and anger.

"I did what I had to do," he stated firmly.

"You did wrong." Snape continued to stare down his cousin even though LeSal had averted his eyes to the floor.  "Dumbledore gave each of us a chance—a last chance.  I've been able to fulfill my part of the bargain of mine.  The weakness for both of us was power and the lure of the Dark Arts.  I came to understand that, but I don't think you have.  You went back on your promise and disrespected the chance Dumbledore gave you almost immediately on that night when you went to the Longbottoms with the LeStranges.  I never said anything, hoping that that would be it, but you've failed again."

LeSal was still staring down at the floor.  "I tried, Severus," he said between his teeth.  "I didn't know that it would take so long for you and Dumbledore…"

"You didn't have to know!" Snape interrupted furiously. "All you had to know was that when Voldemort was in trouble, he'd summon the Death Eaters.  But you didn't wait for that and I know why.  You were afraid of having Voldemort destroyed without you."

Ever so slowly, Salazar lifted his head and looked Snape in the eyes.  "I suppose I won't trouble you anymore then," he said quietly. "Can't have me responsible for getting anyone else killed." He turned away and walked steadily down the hall. "You may tell whoever the new headmaster is that I resign—and to save you the trouble, I'll take Draco home and inform Lucius and Narcissa of the school's decision to have him expelled." He said nothing more and disappeared through the front mirror.

Snape stood alone in the middle of the hall.  Momentarily, he allowed his shoulders to slump and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers before he gripped a cane he was now using and hobbled off.

"Harry?"

Harry whirled around and for some reason, as if by instinct, he reached for his wand.  Hermione and Ron were standing behind him—they were holding hands.  Right now, however, they were preoccupied with staring suspiciously at his wand hand.

"Um—Harry? You okay there, chap?" Ron asked hesitantly.

Harry, realizing what he had done, lowered the wand and slipped it back into his robes.  He just stared at them for a while, studying their locked hands.  It occurred to him how much he had drifted apart lately.  Since when had Ron and Hermione started walking around holding hands? He continued to stand there, staring.

Finally, Ron lifted an eyebrow.  "Are you there? Earth to Harry Potter."

Harry forced himself out of his daze.  "Uh…yea…sorry." He forced a smile.

"He's cracked," Ron noted to Hermione.

"Ron! He's been through so much, he doesn't need you…"

"I know. Geesh, Hermione.  Harry, don't take that the wrong way. It's just that," he paused, "you know. You been through a lot but—you're starting to make me worried.  Why, I've hardly even seen you."

They stood there awkwardly before Hermione made a suggestion. "Why don't we all go to breakfast, shall we? We've got tests today."

Harry came along and headed toward the great hall until he remembered what he had intended to do.  At the same time, though, he wondered if just a few minutes having breakfast with his friends couldn't be spared.

"So what are Fred and George planning on doing?" he asked, trying to start up a conversation.

"I don't know. I don't think they do. Though, Fred has a wicked idea." Ron allowed Hermione to walk ahead and he hung back to walk beside Harry. "Father needs a new Minister of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and Fred has decided to apply for it.  They can't find anyone right now, so he's sure to get it."

"What about George?"

"George—you won't believe this. He wants to teach."

"George? Teaching?" This sounded hard for even Hermione to believe.

"Yeah. That is what he says he wants to do. However, the only subjects he thinks his N.E.W.T.s scores will be good enough on are Muggle Studies and Potions and he wants to stay in Britain right now, and of course, those positions are already filled here."

They were just about to enter the great hall when Professor McGonagall came through the doors and stood before them.

"Oh, just the person I wanted to see. Mr. Potter, would you mind coming with me for a moment?" she was looking at him in her usual stern way but she didn't seem angry.

"Yes, Professor," he replied and followed after exchanging a questioning glance with Ron and Hermione.

Once they were out of earshot, McGonagall inquired, "Are you doing all right, Harry?" She sounded awkward about it.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose."

McGonagall stopped and sighed.  "From what I've heard you have seen an awful lot that someone your age shouldn't have, but you've been a very brave boy." Her eyes seemed distant even though they were looking at him. "Or, as a colleague of mine put it, 'an extremely courageous young man who proved himself to be a capable wizard far beyond his years.' You impressed a great many people with what you did, including that stint where you Apparated all the way from Hogwarts to Diagon Alley.  It's not every wizard that can Apparate from the Scottish Highlands to London, and it's certainly no ordinary one who can do that shortly after just learning to Apparate."

Harry hadn't even thought of his Apparating as being one of his greater feats of the evening.

"But after all that has happened, I am sure that it has taken its toll on you.  There are many of us who are concerned about how you are doing."

"I'm feeling fine, Professor," Harry assured.  "All the aches and pains are gone."

"I do not mean in that sense, Harry." McGonagall's face actually appeared to soften and a look of genuine concern crossed her countenance.

"Oh." Harry looked down the hall after where Ron and Hermione had disappeared. "I'll be okay."

McGonagall didn't seem too convinced. "Well, I've spoken with your professors, and they have all agreed that you don't have to take your O.W.L.s just now.  I'm not sure when, but I highly doubt you can perform well on them at this time."

This caught Harry by surprise. "I don't?"

"Not this week.  We'll be discussing it further to decide exactly when you'll take them. But now, I don't want you telling your friends about this. This is a very unusual and individual case."

"Minerva," Remus Lupin interrupted. "Oh, hello Harry." He was approaching from the direction of the main entrance.  "Professor McGonagall.  The Minister and members of the board of school governors is here and your presence is needed."

"The Minister of Magic?" But she hardly had time to ask before Mr. Weasley rounded the corner flanked by the board of governors, Professors Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, and Sirius Black.  This, Harry found extremely odd.

When they approached, he immediately asked, "Sirius? What is…?"

Sirius smiled and so did Lupin and Mr. Weasley.

"For his efforts in helping us and also considering our aurors spotted Peter Pettigrew very much alive and working in the service of Lord Voldemort, Sirius Black has been extended a proper and official pardon by the Ministry of Magic. As well…" Both Sirius and Harry were smiling but Mr. Weasley was insistent on finishing. "As well as the Order of Merlin: Honorary, for his valiant efforts in the fight against Voldemort even as the Ministry was wrongfully tracking him down."

Harry finally ran up to Sirius who threw his arms around his shoulders.  For a while, it was just a big laughing and crying and hugging session in which Lupin got dragged into as well. And for the first time, Harry caught a certain sparkle in his Godfather's eyes that he had never before seen.  When they eventually pulled away, they found themselves being smiled at by Mr. Weasley and McGonagall and glowered at by Snape.

Mr. Weasley then cleared his throat.  "There are two other orders of Ministry business to be dealt with before I can go on.  First, is a project.  It has come under my attention recently: the laws regarding werewolves.  I will admit that I never knew much on this matter, but I have had the opportunity to see how wrong and outdated those laws are.  I am assigning Mr. Remus Lupin to the task of researching and rewriting those laws.  However, I will be making one change immediately and that is the one barring those suffering from lyconthropy from entering auror training." It was now Lupin's turn to receive pats on the back while Snape still glared.

"Lastly…" and Mr. Weasley proceeded to pull out a velvet box from a pocket in his robes.  "I must apologize first, for there is normally a ceremony that goes with this.  Unfortunately, I currently do not feel a large party at the Ministry is wise at this time." The atmosphere suddenly became very solemn. "There is a certain individual who has on numerous occasions, risked his life in our fight against the Dark Arts.  He was not given much respect last time he performed his duties, but I am not about to let them go unnoticed now." Mr. Weasley patted the top of the box then carefully handed it over to Professor Snape.

Snape suddenly snapped out of his vulture-like stance and blinked at the box then reluctantly took it.  He studied it darkly before opening it.

Mr. Weasley had grown very quiet and was just now eyeing Snape's expression.

The dark, stony mask that Snape was so good at wearing suddenly melted away.  With a parted mouth, he stared dumbly at the contents of the box.  When McGonagall finally leaned over his shoulder to see, her mouth dropped open.  With shaking fingers, he lifted out a bright gold medal attached to purple and green ribbon.

"Order of Merlin: First Class," Mr. Weasley informed solemnly. "I believe you've earned it.  But it does not come without its price.  If Voldemort is not gone; if we must still fight him; these are going to be very difficult times for us since we can no longer rely on Dumbledore's guidance.  You, Severus, were his right hand.  I am hoping you will be able to help us.  I am drawing together everyone that I can to form the battle lines for this fight, and I am hoping you will be an important part of that."

Snape was still staring dumbly at the medal.

Mr. Weasley decided to leave him alone with it and turned to McGonagall.  "Now, Minerva.  There are pressing matters about the school that need to be addressed, most notably, the need for a headmaster." McGonagall pursed her lips, evidently preparing for what was coming.  "The board of governors have unanimously decided that since you have been such a successful and commanding presence here at Hogwarts for so many years, that we would like to offer you…"

"I am sorry, Minister," McGonagall said abruptly.  "But I hope to remain in my current position. I think that this school needs someone who not only can run a school, but who also can be a key figure in our fight against the Dark Arts."

Mr. Weasley looked taken aback.  He hadn't seemed prepared for this, neither did the board members.

"But," McGonagall continued, "I believe you have already selected our headmaster and have given ample reason to back up his suitability for this position."

"I have?" Mr. Weasley was searching McGonagall who was now looking at Snape. He followed her gaze, as did the board of governors.

Snape threw his medal back into its box and closed the lid with loud snap before staring wide-eyed back at all of them.  He seemed so stunned, that Harry actually thought he was going to topple over for he noticed that Snape did not have with him the cane he had been using.

Frowning, Mr.Weasley turned to the board of governors and they at once began softly arguing with each other, but it didn't last long.  Mr. Weasley turned back around. "If that is how you feel, Minerva, we cannot force you to take a position you do not want.  We have though, considered your recommendation of Severus Snape and have decided agree to it."

Snape looked down at the box he was holding and seemed to be breathing uncomfortably.

"Do you accept the board's offer?" Mr. Weasley asked.

It took a while for Snape to reply, but he managed to gather his composer and look up. "Yes, I'll accept."

There was a bit of silence before Mr. Weasley let out a sigh. "Well then. That's all the business that we came here for.  I'll now leave you, as you both," he spoke to McGonagall and Snape, "have a lot of things to do."

"Just one moment," McGonagall said quickly. "While I have the board here, there is one matter that I need to bring up." Some of the governors had turned to leave but they stopped and paid attention to Professor McGonagall. "We need two new professors for next year."

 "Three," Snape corrected.

"Three?"

"My cousin has decided to resign. He will not be coming back next year."

"Oh." McGonagall sensed there was something behind this but didn't ask. "Then three. We once again need a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, we'll also need a new Potions professor, and Rubeus Hagrid, who has been our Care of Magical Creatures professor has been doing work for the Ministry and that has taken much of his time.  He has asked if we could find someone to temporarily take over for him until his work with the Ministry is done."

The governors shifted uncomfortably and turned to one another.  Finding three professors to teach in Britain while Voldemort may be running around was a tall order.

"I have a suggestion," Mr. Weasley spoke up.  "My two sons, Bill and Charlie have decided to stay here for the time being but are in the need of employment.  Bill works in Egypt for Gringotts and I think would do well teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charlie works on a dragon reservation in Romania, so if you need a Care of Magical Creatures professor for just temporarily, he might take it."

The board members appeared happy about this. "We'll be sure to interview them, Minister."

Harry glanced briefly over at the new headmaster who lookrd less than ecstatic; he appeared to be attempting to grind his teeth to powder.  He then remembered what he wanted to say about Voldemort, but debated whether this would be a good time. He decided to lean over and whisper to Sirius, "I need to speak to someone."

"About what?" Sirius whispered back. "About Voldemort. I think I may know that he's alive and where he is."

Sirius stood back, shocked. "Um…Harry, how would you know? Are you sure you know where he is?"

Mr. Weasley stopped talking and looked over. "Is something the matter?"

Harry swallowed hard and scanned over all the eyes that were suddenly fixed on him.

"If you're sure about it, tell them," Sirius coaxed.

"Tell us what?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry glanced over at Snape who was now staring hard at him. "I think I may be able to say that Voldemort is alive."

The sound of a rat's sneeze could have been heard it was suddenly so quiet.

"And how do you know this?" Lupin prodded.

Being next to Lupin and Sirius seemed to help. "I don't know. I'm not really sure, but ever since that night, I've seen things.  It's like I can suddenly see what Voldemort's seeing. I saw—I saw Dumbledore having a heart attack, and Professor Snape lying on the ground." He thought it best he just say all that he had to say. "For the past week, I've seen a fireplace—an old house.  I didn't understand it until this morning.  I saw a graveyard: the same one I was taken to by Voldemort last year.  There was a headstone that read Tom Riddle. But if it is through him that I'm seeing all this, he hasn't strayed far from the same house and I haven't seen anyone.  He's probably injured and can't go far. And…" Harry said, drawing out the wand from his robes, "I have his wand."

This startled everyone and some of the board members and professors backed up as if the wand were about to start casting hexes on its own.  Snape was the only one who made a motion to step forward. He was studying Harry with great interest and Harry could tell that his mind was churning.

"That's Voldemort's wand?" Mr. Weasley said in disbelief.  "How…?"

"Malfoy destroyed my wand," Harry explained. He then went on to tell them about what Mr. Ollivander had told him when he had purchased his wand and how he knew that he had a chance to Apparate using Voldemort's wand.  Everyone seemed to not believe what they were hearing except for Sirius, who had placed a hand on his shoulder, and Snape, who appeared to be sorting out something.

"But that doesn't explain why Harry can see what Voldemort sees," Mr. Weasley pointed out when he was done.

"No," Snape spoke lowly, "but I have an idea as to why that might be."

"You do?" it was Sirius who asked this.

"Yes. Potter, you and Voldemort both cast a spell at the same time on the same wand?"

"Yes, but…" He then remembered the strange and painful feeling that had filled him, that had seemed to flow into him.  He was about to say something about it, but he got the feeling that somehow Snape knew.

"What does that do?" Sirius demanded to know. "Is Harry going to be all right?"

"I don't know much about it.  It's not been recorded much, but I thought that might have been what happened when I saw it.  As you know, my cousin and I shared a sympathetic magical link, and that is how we got it to work.  By casting a spell at the same time on the same wand.  It's dangerous and it isn't usually strong.  We were similar enough that it worked to some extent, but since Potter and Voldemort have the same cores to their wands, the results would be very strong."

"But is he going to be all right?" Sirius repeated.

"He should be.  The dangerous part was when it occurred.  The only thing is, that this link—it works both ways."

It didn't take long for Harry to realize what this meant, and he was the first to speak up. "So Voldemort can now see what I see? He knows what spells I cast and where I am?"

"But he's safe here at Hogwarts?" Sirius was sounding very worried and he tightened his grip on Harry's arm.

"He's safest here," Snape agreed to some extent.  "The numerous enchantments on Hogwarts are ancient, added on by each successive headmaster. Basically, impenetrable.  I would suggest that Potter stay here though, until we know more about how strong this link is."

*

At first it had seemed like a wonderful thing.  He wasn't going back to the Dursleys! But now, as most of the Professors were leaving, he began to rethink it.  It appeared that the only staff staying for the entire summer were Snape, Filch, and Mrs. Norris. Sirius and Lupin would be by every now and then, but they would be busy for most of the time.

After seeing off his friends at the train station, Harry made his way back into the castle with Fawkes back at his perch on his shoulder.  He hadn't quite figured out how to keep him away and he hadn't the heart to cage him too often.  His footsteps sounded lonely as he headed down the corridor to the great hall.  It was still and empty.  He just slid down onto the floor near the doors and stared at the huge empty room.  The first time he had ever seen it completely empty.  There wasn't even a ghost.

Fawkes hopped down to the floor and sat at his side while he stared at the long tables with their vacant benches and at the black banners that had been left hanging in mourning from the rafters.

Harry had decided to hold onto Voldemort's wand until he could get another made.  It was slightly longer than his had been and it poked him in the side when he had sat so he pulled it out and stared at it, turning it slowly in his fingers.  This had been the wand that had killed his mum and dad.  This had been the wand to kill countless dozens and used to create havoc and unmeasurable pain in the world. 

For the first time, he allowed himself to dwell on Dumbledore.  Tears came to his eyes and he let them fall.

He sat there just mourning Dumbledore and petting Fawkes' soft plumage.  The ceiling to the hall reflected a beautiful summer day and rays of sunlight lit the room. He stayed there until the clouds began to turn pink and the light of the sun dimmed. After a while, he suddenly noticed that he wasn't alone.  Quickly, he attempted to smudge the tears with the sleeve of his robes before looking up into Professor Snape's face.

His expression was odd and indiscernible.  He was wearing his usual black robes and cape and his hair was as greasy as ever.  But he then did something very unexpected: he grabbed a hold of the wall for support and knelt down on one knee.

"May I see the wand?" there was no emotion to his voice.

Harry offered over the wand and Snape took it and darkly studied it.  While still holding it, he looked over at Fawkes then handed it back.

"I'll need to get a new wand," Harry informed.

Snape regained his feet and continued to stare at Fawkes.  "You've shown that it works for you."

"I don't want it." Harry's tone was a little bit more forceful than he had intended. "This wand has been used for horrible things."

"That it has." Snape said more as a thought than an answer.  "But it's not the wand that made terrible things happen.  In your hands it can do good."

Harry found this even more unexpected, but still, he didn't want it. 

"The phoenix," Snape said watching Harry continue to pet Fawkes. His changing the subject so suddenly didn't seem to bother him.  "He chooses the wizard.  You cannot force a phoenix to obey you, nor can you force him stay.  He stays on his own will.  A wizard has no choice in the matter of phoenixes—just as he has no choice in the matter of which wand has chosen him."

Snape finally looked away and said no more.  Harry then thought, for knowing Professor Snape for five years, he knew incredibly little about him.  And for all the strange witches and wizards he had met while a part of the wizarding world, he had to be the oddest, the most mysterious.

 Turning on his heel, Snape walked from the room.  Harry raised his eyes from Voldemort's wand—now his wand—and turned so that he could watch as the dark figure of the headmaster made his way down the empty corridor.

END OF THE FIRST PART

Continued in "The Death Eater Rebellion"