Heart of the Guardian

20. Consultations

When he woke the next morning, the boy was already up and moving in his room next door. Snape bathed and dressed, and left his room just as Potter left his.

"Let's eat in the Great Hall. The Headmistress will be expecting us," he said.

The boy flushed and looked down, hesitated as if he wanted to say something, then nodded. They walked to the Great Hall in silence. The boy obviously had something on his mind, but Snape let him be, puzzling over his own thoughts and feelings.

Trelawney, Firenze, and Filch joined them at the table for an impromptu staff meeting, to discuss the progress of cleaning and continued repairs. Peeves zoomed overhead, occasionally shooting spit balls at Potter, who merely waved them away. When his increasing efforts to get a rise out of the boy failed, he turned his attention to Mrs. Norris, who chased after the spitballs and swatted them like flies.

McGonagall reported that Hagrid and Grawp were enjoying France; Filius' oldest son had presented him with a grandson; Sinistra was on her way to her mother's from Egypt. Talk turned to finding a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Snape suggested McGonagall enquire of the Order and the Auror's office.

"Which reminds me, Potter," McGonagall said. "Robards wished me to enquire whether it is still your desire to be an Auror."

"Oh! Yes – yes, Professor... that is... if I qualify. I thought I had to take NEWT level courses and earn my NEWTs."

"Robards is willing to forego that requirement in your case."

Snape opened his mouth to protest, but shut it. Not my call. He waited for the boy's reply. Potter shoved pieces of his waffle around on his plate with his fork.

"I..." He let out a breath. "I was wondering if there was a way I could... make up... last year," he said.

Snape sat still save for his eyes, which he turned to McGonagall.

"Potter, that is hardly necessary. I think you have proven yourself Auror material – you and several of your classmates!"

Snape narrowed his eyes at that, taking inventory.

Weasley had already made it plain he planned to help his brother George at his store – a task that was certain to be both time consuming and emotionally demanding. Though, no doubt, he would make a fine Auror. Snape shook his head at the memory of the boy diving into a frozen pond to rescue his mate. Gryffindors. He snorted softly.

Neville Longbottom would be wasted as an Auror, despite the extraordinary courage he had shown confronting Voldemort. Snape's breath caught at the mere thought of it. He hoped that had been accorded an Order of Merlin, First Class. He'd nominate the boy himself if the blasted Ministry had not seen fit to recognize the boy's heroic act, not to mention his leadership amongst the students, keeping them safe and resisting the bloody Carrows' horrific torture, at great risk and increasing personal cost. In any case, the boy had such a clear calling for herbology it would be near criminal for him to pursue any other profession. If anything, he should take up advanced studies with Sprout or her colleagues elsewhere.

Hermione Granger, of course, was gifted at nearly everything she turned her brilliant mind to, he assessed honestly. The Aurors would be lucky to nab the girl. Perhaps the past year had turned her interests in that direction. He could hardly blame her if she wished to hunt down dark wizards and witches after what she'd been through.

And it would be an equally natural calling for Potter... He certainly had the talent in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and was developing a dab hand at potions, Snape admitted, with a flash of something like... pride.