The Headmaster

Chapter 5 The Headmaster

After crumbling the letter from the warden and tossing it into the fireplace, Harry was fuming. Why couldn’t the bitch mind her own business? She showed lack of judgment by being loyal to Snape. This was intolerable. He would find a way to force an early retirement on her. She was old; she should find a life away from the school… and him. He couldn’t understand how all of his friends could betray him. He saved all their miserable lives by defeating Voldemort. By that alone he should have received their undying gratitude but instead, with every turn, he fines disloyalty.

The headmaster wrote back to the warden instructing him to do whatever he had to do but not to let anyone see Snape. Lie if he had to. Do anything less than murder, to stop them.

He would only surround himself with people he could trust, those who agreed with everything he said. After all he had been through, he deserved at least that much. He didn’t need any of them. They all could go to hell for all he cared. There was a nagging feeling, one he would never admit to that he did care… more than he could imagine.

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Severus carefully slurped the gruel that was lowered into his prison. Tasting like paste and barely filling his empty stomach, it was the only food he would get for the day and he relished every bite. Eating became the only highlight of his day, when the trap door would open and he could peer out and see the light of day. It lasted only a moment or two until the door was once again shut leaving him in darkness, but for a few precious instants he remembered there was life outside of his cave.

He found, in moments of weakness, he dwelled on the past and his many incorrect decisions he made in his life. He couldn’t deny he had made huge mistakes that he had indeed needed to be punished for. This, he looked at his small enclosure, was his karma? Did he deserve all of… this? When his father brought men home to ‘play’ with him, was he being punished then? Was he so horrible that this was all he deserved? It must be. Yes, this was a just punishment for his crimes against man and humanity.

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“His hate for Severus is obsessive. Harry could have, with a little effort, prevented Severus being put in Azkaban,” Remus explained to his friend, who happened to be a therapist. “I need a favor of you Adam.”

“If it is humanly possible, you know I’ll do it.”

“Harry needs therapy. He won’t listen to his friends. He thinks we all have deserted him. If someone he doesn’t know…”

“As myself?”

“Yes, like you, he might listen to them. Adam, I’m really worried about him. I don’t know him anymore.”

“Alright, have him call and make an appointment. I’ll be glad to see if I can help.”

“That’s our problem. He can’t know what you’re doing.”

“Remus, I would lay down my life for you but I have to draw the line at subterfuge. He has to want to see me.” Adam Montoya was in his mid thirties. Being of Latin decent, he had olive skin and dark brown hair and eyes. The first word people spoke, when they described him, was distinguished.

He owed Remus the life of his little sister. When turned at an early age, the people of his township were determined to end her young life. Without Remus rescuing and relocating her to a pack of werewolves that accepted her with open arms, she would have been stoned to death. Today, she was a happily married and a young mother of two pups. He wondered why his neighbors and friends, people who had good hearts, could become so cruel. This was one of the reasons he was drawn to being a therapist.

Remus drummed his fingers on Adam’s desk. “Can you at least talk to him and tell me what you think?”

“How would I do that without him questioning me why I was there?”

“The school is looking for a Professor of the Dark Arts. I know you have a degree in it… you could apply for the position.”

“Remus, if I do this, and I’m not saying I will, you need to know it’s against my better judgment.” Adam’s curiosity was peaked at the idea.

“Apply for the job… talk to him… see what you think. That’s all I ask.”

“Fine, I’ll do it. Remus, don’t expect a miracle, okay?”

“I’ll be pragmatic but I still can hope can’t I?”

Adam flashed a warm smile. “That, at times, is all we have.”

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Harry had an emergency meeting of the board of trustees that same afternoon. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “it has come to my attention, while I going over all of the professors’ personal files, there are an overabundant of teachers nearing the century mark. I am in no way endorsing age discrimination but the need for new blood and fresh ideas is needed to stimulate the students. I would like, with your approval, to enforce a clause, in their contract, to buy them out and enabling these giving teachers the time to enjoy the remainder of their lives.”

“Did you have an age in mind for their retirement?” These old fools would do anything for the boy-that-defeated-Voldemort.

“Not really, somewhere, I think, around ninety-five,” he suggested, all along knowing that Minerva was the only professor over that age.

“It’s getting close to the beginning of the term. Will you have time to find replacements?”

“I compiled a list of names of people qualified to teach at Hogwarts. I’m sure that I will have no trouble finding someone to fill any positions that might come available.” He had already sent out application forms to many of the names on the list.

There was one trustee, who was hesitant. “I don’t know about this. Ms. McGonagall has reached her ninety-fifth year and is quite capable, and from talking with her recently, is willing to teach for many years to come.”

Harry lied with a smile on his face. “Isn’t that strange, just this morning at breakfast she told me that she was looking forward to retirement. She seemed rather fed up with the ‘miserable little beasts’, her words not mine.”

“Did she now? Well, I guess if she is looking forward to leaving Hogwarts, I have no objection then. All in favor of changing the retirement age to ninety-five say aye.”

All of the trustees said aye.

“All of those against changing the retirement age say nay.”

The room remained quiet.

“The ayes have it. Mr. Potter, should we inform Ms. McGonagall of our decision?”

“Yes, I think it would be better coming from the trustees and not me. Thank you for you support in this matter. I’m sure I’ll do Hogwarts proud.”

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“The fucking brat,” Minerva stormed. “I know it was him who got me fired.” She harrumphed. “The trustees don’t have a thought in their head that someone hadn’t put there.”

“Minerva, please calm down.” Hermione tried, unsuccessfully, to get her Head of House to sit down.

“I will not calm down. I want to go on a rampage, is what I want to do. Too old… really…” she muttered indignantly. “That boy needs a comeuppance and I’m the one to do it.”

“Minerva, stop it right now. This isn’t about you. It’s about Severus, remember that.”

She sighed heavily. “You are right, of course. Severus is the one who is suffering. Were you and Remus able to see Severus?” She had calmed down enough to recall that they had gone to see Severus.

“No,” Hermione answered dejectedly. “Something about Severus, getting in a fight with an inmate. The man was lying through his teeth.”

“Everyday we don’t see Severus I fear the worst.”

“At first I thought you were overreacting but after visiting Azkaban, I now have the same fear.”

“There is something good from being let go from Hogwarts…” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “I now can put all of my effort in getting Severus released from prison. Then I’m going to see that he gets the Order of Merlin First Class… with clusters, for everything he did for us.”

“Not to change the topic but I heard from Neville today. In the last few days he has gotten over three hundred signatures demanding Severus’ release. We need a lot more but that’s an excellent start.”

“At least I got everyone to sign the petition before I ‘retired’. Even the Bloody Barron signed it or at least tried.”

“I can’t help but think if Harry hadn’t gone away to school he could have seen how Severus changed without all the pressures of the war and Voldemort. I caught him more often that not trying to keep from smiling. I thought he hated us all but he really cared about us, no matter what house we came from.”

“He was especially hard on Harry,” Minerva recalled.

“No doubt. After we had drank a bottle of wine one evening I asked him that very question and you know what he said?”

“When it comes to Severus I wouldn’t venture an opinion.”

“He was harder on Harry for the simple fact that Harry could do naturally what others struggled to do but he never made an effort. He saw wasted potential.”

“We did let the boy slide. He had so much on his plate that we thought we shouldn’t add to his pressures, that is, everyone but Severus. He always believed ‘what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger’.”

“I hope that true for Severus too,” Hermione added.

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“Mr. Montoya, your resume is extremely impressive. It says you have been a therapist for the last fifteen years, why decide on the career change?”

“Day in and day out listening to someone’s problems can be very taxing. I have always wanted a chance at teaching the Dark Arts and when I heard that there was an opening, I jumped at the chance.”

“I can only imagine how tiring it would be to listen to the whining and bitching of your patients. You do realize you would have a substantial pay cut if you come to Hogwarts.”

“I’ve invested my money over the years. If careful, I needn’t ever work again.”

Harry liked Adam Montoya and his easy manner. He was also physically attracted to him. He liked the dark hair and eyes, only if his skin was paler he would be almost perfect. There was something he didn’t care for on his face and it took him a moment to understand that he hated Adam’s small nose. It had no character, it was… average. No matter he still wouldn’t mind a roll in the bed with him.

“It’s getting rather late in the day. Could I interest you in a dinner in Hogsmeads?”

“Business or pleasure?” Adam flashed Harry his perfect smile.

“We can start with business and work our way to pleasure as the evening progresses.” Harry took Adam’s hand and rubbed the palm of it with his thumb.

Adam stopped before answering and weighed the ethics of the situation. Harry was not a patient of his, even if he was trying to analyze him. He didn’t have to go to bed with him but the idea was more than pleasing. He was hungry and had to eat, there was nothing wrong with that.

“Mr. Potter I would love to have dinner with you.” There was that smile again.

“The name is Harry and by the end of the evening, I hope I can say I found a new friend.”

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