Chapter 32: Career Choices
Rick sat quietly on the stiff wooden chair outside Professor McGonagall’s office, his hands resting in his lap, his mind drifting. With nothing but silence and stone walls for company, his thoughts inevitably wandered back through the whirlwind of the last seven months, and most of all, to Amelia. After that first, unforgettable night following Professor Slughorn’s soirée, it was Amelia herself who’d proposed turning their tryst into a regular thing. Her final year was packed with NEWT stress, and as she bluntly put it, shagging Rick was the best form of stress relief she’d found.
Naturally, Rick had wanted to say yes he wasn’t an idiot but there was Lily to consider. When he explained the situation to her, Amelia had looked genuinely confused. Then Rick explained everything: the unusual nature of his relationship with Lily. Her bewilderment had only grown. The Lily Evans she knew was all intellect, rules, and nurturing concern not the kind of girl who’d encourage her boyfriend to sleep with someone else.
But she had. And Amelia, to her credit, took the news in stride. A little wide-eyed, sure, but ultimately accepting. When Rick had made a half-joke about not knowing which was stronger Lily’s love for him or her completely unhinged lust for Amelia the Hufflepuff hadn’t argued. She’d simply blinked, processed it all in silence… and then kissed him like she intended to find out the answer for herself.
Lily had, somewhat unsurprisingly and with a raised eyebrow or two, agreed to the unusual arrangement though Rick suspected that Amelia’s allure had more to do with it than anything else. Thus began their not-so-weekly, but certainly passionate, arrangement. Rick and Amelia found a way to relieve some stress hers from NEWTs, his from the general insanity of his life and having Lily as a girlfriend.
When Winter break rolled around, Rick orchestrated a particularly daring plan. He invited Lily to Potter Manor, a move that required some creative truth-bending. Lily told her parents she’d be staying at Hogwarts to revise for her OWLs, while simultaneously informing the school staff that she’d be spending the holidays at home. The result: plausible deniability and a private Christmas with her boyfriend, far from prying eyes.
Rick was, if nothing else, a master planner when romance was involved.
Lily's ambition grew exponentially when she learned Amelia was seeking refuge at the castle, desperate to avoid her father's tyranny. The thought of adding Amelia to their burgeoning dynamic became an obsession. With a calculated whisper and a tantalizing promise of untold pleasures to Amelia, Lily easily swayed Rick. His parents, surprisingly permissive, offered no resistance to the arrangement. And with that, Lily truly got everything she had ever desired, and then some. Her deepest, most forbidden desires included the visceral thrill of watching Rick and Amelia engage in their raw, uninhibited acts of intimacy, and, more thrillingly, her own seamless integration into their passionate entanglement.
The revelation had been a shock to the seventh-year witch. Amelia, initially, had resisted the wild proposition, a blush painting her cheeks even as a spark of curiosity ignited in her eyes. But Lily and Rick, a combined force of persuasive charm and undeniable physical presence, systematically overwhelmed her. Rick’s strong hands had gently, then firmly, guided her into position, his fingers tangling in her hair as he whispered encouragement.
Lily, meanwhile, moved with a predatory grace, her pale skin glowing in the low light. Before Amelia could even fully comprehend what was happening, Lily’s head was buried between her spread thighs, her tongue a hot, insistent dart against Amelia’s juicy pussy. A gasp tore from Amelia’s throat as Lily’s expert mouth worked its magic, drawing forth whimpers and then outright pleas for more, the witch arching her back, lost to the spiraling pleasure. Lily's lips suctioned, her tongue swirled, teasing and taunting, bringing Amelia closer and closer to a shattering release.
The conversation that followed, with Amelia still flushed and trembling, had been, by conventional standards, undeniably awkward. Yet, remarkably, their blossoming, unconventional relationship weathered it without a scratch. Lily, ever the pragmatist, had understood the unspoken tension, and her solution was as simple as it was effective: throughout the entirety of their uneasy dialogue, her soft, warm mouth remained firmly latched onto one of Amelia's swelling breasts, constantly suckling, teasing, and reassuring. The rhythmic tug and release, the warm flood of sensation, had served as a powerful, non-verbal balm, an undeniable reminder of the carnal bond that now irrevocably tied them together.
And now, with Amelia’s graduation only three months away, Rick found a heavy sadness settling over him. His big sister in all but blood was preparing to step into the next chapter of her life, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls of Hogwarts would feel emptier without her. He’d miss the teasing glances, the comfortable closeness, and yes the thrill of their wild, passionate encounters but that wasn’t what tugged hardest at his heart. What mattered most was the bond they’d forged beyond all that. Amelia had been a steady force in his chaotic world, a confidante who understood him without judgment. Losing that day-to-day connection felt like the beginning of a quiet grief he didn’t know how to name.
“Mister Wald, if you could please come in.”
The clipped voice of his head of house snapped him out of his reverie, and Rick rose smoothly from his seat. He stepped into her office, the door clicking shut behind him, and waited for her invitation before settling into the chair across from her desk. He fought the urge to smile as his eyes landed on a familiar sight: the very first golden snitch he had ever caught, proudly displayed next to her ink pot. He had gifted it to her for Christmas, a symbol of pride and gratitude. Just behind her, on the tall shelf lined with meticulously labeled trinkets and tomes, rested the full collection of snitches he’d captured during his Hogwarts years.
“Considering your grades you could probably do any job you’d like when you graduate. Providing you go for the proper NEWTS. However, do you have an idea of what you want to do?”
“Nothing definitive, Professor. I have ideas, yes. Plenty of them but I’m not quite sure if I would be happy by choosing either of them.”
“What do you have in mind? Exactly.”
“Well… You’d be happy to know that I have considered playing quidditch professionally. At least for a few years.”
“I am indeed.” she said with a smile. “But my personal opinion is inconsequential, this is your life, not mine. No matter how much I’d love to see you play seeker for the Montrose Magpies.”
“I was more thinking about Puddlem-"
“Careful, Mister Wald. There are some things that shouldn’t be joked about.” she warned with an annoyed twitch in her eye.
Rick couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him. He knew perfectly well how much Professor McGonagall loathed Puddlemere United almost as a matter of personal principle. The animosity wasn’t entirely irrational, either. Despite having matched the Montrose Magpies with two European League titles, Puddlemere’s record in the British and Irish Quidditch League was spotty at best. In Minerva's eyes, they were overhyped showboats who lacked the grit and consistency of a truly great team. The mere mention of them was enough to make her left eye twitch a sight Rick found endlessly entertaining.
“I’m just teasing, Professor. I’d rather play for the Canons than Puddlemere.”
“Well, maybe they’d finally begin to win games. But enough about quidditch. I always knew you were part of the Gryffindor team because you liked to fly, not because of your love for the sport. What else?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to four choices. The first being, becoming an Unspeakable.”
“That’s… remarkably ambitious. But it fits you well.”
“I thought too but… While I’d love to study magic and experiment, the many rules and oaths are quite restrictives. I’m not sure I’d be happy with this career. And that’s without counting that if I’m not scouted I’d have to become an auror, make my way up and pass the exam to switch from the DLME to the DOM. I’m not sure I’ll have the patience for that. Even becoming an auror… I would hate the job. I love my freedom, you know.”
“Hmm. True.” she said after a short moment of reflection.
“The second thing is apprenticing in charms or potions though, knowing myself I’d probably go for both.”
“I’m sure Filius and your mother would be delighted to hear that and offer you one. No thought about…” she began to fidget with the quill in her hands. "Apprenticing in Transfiguration perhaps?”
“I thought about it but not right now. While I love the discipline, I’m not as good as in Charms or Potions. Definitely later if I go for a mastery in those subjects though.”
“Good.” she said with a nod of approval.
“I was also thinking of becoming an enchanter. Working for myself on magical theory, spellcrafting or picking up the Potter’s family business in Potion. I would be my own boss with my own schedule answering to no one else but myself. I like the idea of that. I’d be free to explore the world to learn more about magic.”
“I can see you do that, yes.”
“I… have an inkling in teaching too. After spending years tutoring Marlene, I have to admit that I liked imparting knowledge to others.”
“Hm, perhaps one day you would come back to Hogwarts for that.”
“Only if you’re the headmistress, ma’am.”
“I’m a bit too young for the post I’m afraid but yet again many of your inclinations are not mutually exclusive. You can do all of them at different points in your life. Quidditch would and should be first of course.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be able to play professionally if I was too old.”
“Indeed.”
“The last thing is… Well nothing actually.”
“Nothing?” she blinked in confusion. “As in doing nothing or you are thinking what you have in mind doesn’t matter?”
“Nothing for a job. I… always like the thought of having my own family and well… I find the idea of being a stay at home dad appealing.”
Of all the possibilities she'd considered and given it was Rick Wald, the list spanned from dragon handler to adventurer 'stay-at-home dad' hadn’t even made the top hundred. It wasn’t even on the list! Her mind hiccuped, completely derailed by the mental image of her brightest student elbow-deep in nappies instead of potion vials. For a full second, her usually sharp intellect just… stalled, as if trying to reboot after being hit with a Confundus Charm.
“A stay at home… Dad.”
“Yes.”
“And here I thought that after five years you couldn’t surprise me anymore.”
“Grave mistake, Professor.” he smirked.
“I can see that. It would be a shame and a waste of your talents and genius to stay at home, Mister Wald and I don’t think you’d be happy without doing any research on magic but if that’s what you want…”
“You’re right. That’s why I was reluctant to speak of it. If I do follow that path I know it wouldn’t be for long. Until they all get to Hogwarts. I honestly can’t actually see myself going with it. It would really be a bit of a waste after all the hard work I did. Thankfully I still have two years to make up my mind. A lot can happen during that time.”
“It can, indeed.” she nodded in agreement. “In any case, regardless of your final decision I’m sure you’ll be the best at it like you kept proving ever since you started your schooling.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
“Now I heard from Filius that for your practical exam in DADA, you intended to present a full corporeal patronus?”
Rick's grin deepened as he drew his wand with the kind of easy confidence that only came from mastery and mischief in equal measure. He glanced toward Minerva, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. She met his gaze with the familiar raised brow of skeptical approval, then gave him a curt nod silent permission from one prodigy to another.
“Expecto Patronum.”
A soft, silver-blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand, coalescing into the elegant form of a Dun Mare. With graceful strength, the Patronus galloped around the office, its hooves silent as moonlight, leaving trails of calm in its wake. When it finally slowed and stepped beside Minerva's desk, it lowered its proud head toward her. She reached out almost reverently, her fingers brushing the ethereal bridge of its nose. The contact sent a rush of unfiltered joy through her a sense of peace so pure, so consuming, that for a moment, it stole the breath from her lungs. It was like standing in sunlight after years of storms.
“Quite powerful.” she whispered, amazed and enjoying what she was feeling.
“My favorite spell.”
“I would have thought your patronus to be a crow but a Dun Mare… They are known to be very independent. I have read that people with this patronus go wherever life takes them. They prefer to be their own master and do not like taking orders from others. It suits you quite well.”
“I think so too.”
“Are Miss Evans and Mckinnon able to-”
“A doe for Lily. Marlene is still working on hers but she’s not in a hurry. So far the shape looks massive. Bigger than a dog.”
She gave a slow, thoughtful nod, her fingers lingering in the air even after the Dun Mare began to dissolve into shimmering silver mist. The ethereal creature faded gently, as if reluctant to leave, until the last spark of magic winked out beside her desk leaving behind a stillness that somehow felt sacred.
“What about transfiguration if I may?”
“I’ve been working since Winter break with my father on becoming an Animagus.”
“I would point out that you are too young for attempting the transformation but it would be hypocritical of me. I was barely older than you are when I became one. At what stage are you at?”
“Waiting for an electrical storm. I can’t believe there hasn’t been a single one! We’re in Scotland! There should be one every week!”
Minerva chuckled at his antics, the corners of her lips twitching with genuine amusement. As absurd as his complaint sounded, he wasn’t wrong. Scotland was infamous for its relentless rain and temperamental skies, with storms often rolling in like clockwork. Except, bafflingly, this year. The skies had remained stubbornly clear, as if nature itself had decided to mock Rick's Animagus ambitions with unseasonable restraint.
“Do come see me if an electrical storm happens and you’re at Hogwarts. I’d like to supervise your transformation, just in case.”
“I will, Professor.”
“Good. Now I think I've taken enough of your time, Mister Wald. Go on to dinner.”
Rick nodded and stood up, slipping his wand back into his pocket with a small, thoughtful sigh. As he stepped out of Professor McGonagall’s office and into the quiet corridor, the buzz of conversation and clinking cutlery in the distance pulled him back to reality. He made his way to the Great Hall, where warm torchlight spilled onto the stone floors and the scent of roasted chicken and treacle tart hung in the air. At the Gryffindor table, he spotted Marlene and Lily his best friend and his girlfriend mid-laugh over something Marlene had said, and a grin tugged at his lips as he made his way to join them.
“Everything went well?”
“Of course it went well, Lils. It’s Rick you’re asking. As if Professor McGonagall would tell him he can’t follow a career path with the grades he has.”
“Well… she did advise me that some choices would not be the best for me.” Rick commented.
“See!”
“Shut up! Like what?”
“Unspeakable if I’m not scouted directly before we graduate. We agree that I’m ill-suited for the job of Auror which I would have to be if I want to become an Unspeakable the normal way.”
Marlene rolled her eyes in exaggerated defeat and dug back into her meal with theatrical determination, clearly deciding food was far less complicated than debating future careers. After dinner, the trio lounged in the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room, the fire crackling merrily as laughter and chatter buzzed around them. Eventually, duty called Rick and Lily rose for their prefect patrol, slipping into their roles with the practiced ease of routine. Lily held the map in one hand, her eyes scanning its shifting ink trails with barely contained anticipation, fingers crossed to catch someone breaking curfew. Mischief detection was, after all, one of her favorite parts of the job.
“It’s a full moon tonight. The idiots won’t be there so would you like to spend the night with me in my room?”
She looked up at her boyfriend, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief and affection, and a grin bloomed across her face wide, radiant, and utterly uncontainable, the kind of smile that could outshine Lumos at full power.
“I’d love to. It’s been a while since we’ve spent the night together there.”
“That’s why I’m asking. I love using the room and doing it in the corridors under the cloak but my bedroom is… I guess it’s just special?”
At Christmas, Rick’s father had called him into his private study for something marked 'Potter business.' Rick had been immediately intrigued and even more so when he noticed his mother was conspicuously absent. When he asked about it, Charlus explained with a rare solemnity that Dorea was a Potter by name, not by blood, and that what they were about to discuss was an ancient, closely guarded family secret. Traditionally, this knowledge passed from parent to heir upon the child's sixteenth birthday, but with Rick’s falling on January 22nd, Charlus had decided to preempt the calendar by a few weeks.
The moment had weight.
Charlus presented Rick with an invisibility cloak, one he claimed had been passed down through the Potter line for generations. At first, Rick was skeptical. Cloaks like these rarely lasted more than five years ten if heavily enchanted. But this one… this one felt different. When Rick raised the objection, Charlus simply smiled, reached for a timeworn book on his shelf, and handed it to him. It was a children’s tale, thin and worn at the edges the story of the Three Brothers.
It spoke of three mythical relics: a wand that could not be beaten in a duel, a stone with the power to summon back the dead, and a cloak that could conceal its wearer from anything even Death itself. Rick had rolled his eyes at first, skeptical of the tale's legitimacy. After all, these were fables attributed to Death, a personified concept wrapped in allegory. But the moment his father placed the cloak into his hands, that skepticism evaporated.
The magic it held was unlike anything he’d ever felt otherworldly in a way that was both unsettling and serene. It wasn’t cold like ice, but cool in the way a shadow falls across a sunlit room: gentle, inevitable. It wasn’t evil or cursed it felt still, ancient, and peaceful. The closest thing Rick could compare it to was the feeling of standing on the edge of mortality itself. That was the moment he knew truly knew that this was no ordinary artifact. He held in his hands one of the Deathly Hallows.
The rules that came with the cloak were few, but absolute. He could confide in close friends those he trusted beyond all doubt but never disclose what the cloak truly was. To the rest of the world, it would remain a finely-crafted invisibility cloak with regularly renewed enchantments. The secret of its true nature would pass from him to his heir on the eve of their seventeenth birthday, just as it had passed to him. That was the legacy.
Of course, Rick kept his promise and only shared what he was allowed to with Lily and Marlene. Lily, being quite the schemer when mischief met brilliance, had immediately brainstormed a dozen uses for the cloak most of which involved sneaking around for some steamy private time. But not all her ideas were scandalous. One particularly memorable use had been the time she slipped into Potter and Black’s dorm under the cloak to swipe their Marauder’s Map. Meanwhile, Marlene and Rick kept the boys busy in the common room with a raucous debate about broomstick brands.
Predictably, the map was exactly what they'd suspected a fully functioning magical cartograph like the one Rick had made himself. Lily had considered walking off with it, but decided against it when she realized suspicion might fall on Rick. Instead, she cast a subtle charm that obscured her, Rick, and Marlene’s exact movements on their map, blurring the lines just enough to show them in places they were not. She briefly contemplated removing their names entirely, but she knew Potter if her name vanished, he’d tear the map apart looking for the cause. Better to stay slightly visible and completely misleading.
“What the… Why is Sev outside the castle?” Lily wondered aloud as she looked back down on the map and noticed small footsteps leaving the confines of the Castle.
Looking down, Rick quickly found her friend’s name. “There is nothing in that direction but the whomping willow. Why would he…”
“Oh my god! I think Sev found out this is where Remus… He shared with me his suspicions the other day!”
“But how did he… Potter.”
James Potter's name was zipping across the map, tearing away from the castle at a speed that defied anything short of magic certainly far too fast for any normal student. He was clearly sprinting, maybe even flying, straight toward the edge of the grounds. And more disturbingly, toward where Snape’s name had just vanished entirely from the parchment, as if the boy had been swallowed by the castle itself or worse passed into a zone the map couldn’t track. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t good. And it wasn’t safe.
“Go warn McGonagall. I’m going after them.”
Lily nodded and quickly ran, map in hand, in direction of their head of house office, knowing her quarters were adjacent to it. Rick began to run himself upwards. Intending to use the Room of Requirements’ ability to quickly reach the first floor when he was on the fifth. He entered the room, closed the door, thought of an exit near the closet exit leading outside and opened the door again. He arrived at the Bell Tower’s courtyard and began to run towards the whomping willow. Rick knew there was a secret passage there when he was mapping the outside of the castle the previous year. Since the violent tree was planted the summer before his first year, the passage must have been quite recent.
One night during the Easter Holidays, Lily and him had searched for ways to stop the tree from attacking so they could go through the hole under it which they knew was there. They found one when they modified the binding curse to make it work on trees. Exploring the underground tunnel, they arrived at the Shrieking Shack at the edge of Hogsmeade. They didn’t miss the claw marks all over the walls. They understood then that it was where Remus was brought for his transformation during the full moon. They had left quickly and left this part of the castle alone ever since, never paying it a second look.
As he reached the tree and saw no one, he wondered again how Snape had become aware of it. Pulling his wand out he used the special binding curse on the willow and got into the hole. Running carefully to not trip on a rock and fall, he encountered Potter with his wand drawn who was dragging an hurt and bleeding Snape.
“What are you doing here?!” the Gryffindor asked.
“Making sure none of you get yourselves killed. Now, is he after you or confined?”
“You know about…”
“For years. Wasn’t difficult to find out.” he replied, searching from his pocket to pick up a small glass bottle with green pills inside. He undid the cork and took one pill which he gave to Snape.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” the slytherin boy inquired in a tired tone.
“Swallow it. It will stop the bleeding and close the wounds.”
Hesitantly, Severus took it and did as instructed.
“Should work in a few seconds. Now, since we’ve not been attacked yet, I suppose we’re safe so move your ass back to the castle. You guys are in so much trouble it’s not even funny. Seriously, what were you thinking? Don’t answer that, clearly none of you were.”
“Hey! I just saved Snivellus' life!”
“First off, that’s not his name, you git. Second, it doesn't matter. You’re out of your beds after curfew. It’s there for a reason. If none of you get expelled you’d be lucky. Now shut up and walk.”
Begrudgingly the two boys did as instructed and walked back to the entrance of the tunnel on Hogwarts side. Rick closed the march being vigilant just in case a transformed Remus would somehow find a way to follow them.
“What did you give me?” Snape asked as they neared their destination.
“That’s a secret.”
The frown on Snape’s face twisted into a full scowl, his lips curling in sour resentment, but he didn’t press the issue. The moment they emerged from the tunnel, they were met by Professors McGonagall, Slughorn, and Dumbledore none of whom looked remotely pleased. Without a word, the three boys were herded through the castle and into the Headmaster’s office, where Professor Flitwick was already waiting with Lily and Black.
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a cursed blade. Rick moved quickly to Lily’s side, taking her hand in silent support. Her face was a picture of tightly-coiled anxiety, brows furrowed, lips pressed into a worried line. Potter drifted toward Black like a moth to a shamefire, while Snape hung back, stiff and alone, his arms crossed in an effort to shield himself from judgment. Dumbledore moved around his desk with uncharacteristic gravity and lowered himself into his seat. The heads of house flanked him like silent sentinels, their expressions grim and unflinching.
“Hm… How to deal with this?” the wizard wondered.
“Perhaps by finding out how this could have happened in the first place?” Minerva suggested. “Which includes why everyone present seemed to be aware of the secret passage under the Whomping willow.”
“Ah! I’m pretty sure that Miss Evans and Mister Wald know thanks to their chartering of the castle ground?”
Both Lily and Rick nodded at the Headmaster’s statement, their expressions calm but resolute. While Lily’s nod was clipped and formal, her eyes betrayed a quiet tension an awareness of the gravity in the room. Rick, meanwhile, kept his jaw firm and shoulders squared, exuding a steady confidence that suggested he was already bracing for what might come next.
“You really were quite thorough with your exploration and I wonder what other secrets you uncovered but it’s a talk for another time. As for Mister Potter and Black, would I be wrong to think Mister Lupin told them about it?”
““No, Professor.””
“Which leaves you, Mister Snape. How did you find out?”
Snape gave a nasty, venom-laced glare half sneer, half promise of future hexes at Sirius, who looked visibly uncomfortable. The Gryffindor shifted his weight from foot to foot, then muttered his confession like a child caught red-handed. "I told him about it," he admitted, voice low, gaze averted, as if hoping the stone floor would swallow him whole.
“I see. And why did you share that information, Mister Black? From what I know, you two do not get along well, far from it in fact.”
Sirius’ face paled. “I… Hm.. That’s…”
“He tried to kill me!” Snape’s outburst surprised everyone.
“I did not! It was just a prank!” Sirius protested glaring murderously at Snape.
Dumbledore took back control of the conversation. “A prank?”
“I just... Wanted to scare him a bit, that’s all, Headmaster.”
“I see. If it was just a prank, why did Mister Potter follow Mister Snape then? To make sure the prank worked?”
“I… Not exactly, Professor.”
“Albus, could you please, stop playing games? It’s way too late in the night for that. It’s obvious Mister Potter learned of Mister Black’s prank and didn’t see it as such. In response instead of warning a prefect or a member of the faculty, he took it upon himself to stop Severus from going... There.” Slughorn interjected.
“I think so too.” McGonagall supported.
“Very well. Fifty points from Slytherin for being outside your bed after curfew, Mister Snape. A hundred points from Gryffindor for a thoughtless prank that almost turned badly, Mister Black and fifty points to Gryffindor for an act of bravery, Mister Potter.”
“If I may, Headmaster?”
Everyone’s eyes swiveled to Rick, curiosity and surprise written across every face. Even Lily, who normally knew him better than anyone, was caught off guard her brows lifting in subtle alarm as if silently asking, What are you about to do?
“Yes?”
“Potter and Black lose points almost on a daily basis. They won’t care about it. In normal times it’s fine, barely. But we’re not talking about a thoughtless prank here, sir. We’re talking about attempted murder by proxy.”
““What?!”” both Gryffindor boys exclaimed while the teacher listened attentively.
“I did not!”
“He could have died! You sent him to the location of a werewolf during the full moon. What do you think would have happened? That they would have played explosive snaps?”
“Mister Wald!” McGonagall protested.
“Everyone in the room knows about Lupin’s affliction, Professor. Lily and I have known for years. Potter and Black too. And Snape is more than smart enough to have connected the dots by now. No point in speaking in riddles.” Rick cut her off then he turned back to Sirius. “I don't know what's the worst. That at sixteen you think sending someone you don’t like to their death is a prank or that you used one of your closest friends to do the deed?”
“What?! I didn’t use Remus!”
“What do you think would have happened to him had he bitten Snape or killed him?”
“The poor boy would have been…Expulsion would have been the least of his problems.” said Slughorn, shaking his head.
“Put down, Professor. Remus would have been put down for doing something he had no control over and perhaps wasn’t even aware of or remembered. All because his friend used his affliction for a prank. I’m sorry but I can’t stay silent and not protest the punishment he got. He’s getting off way too lightly without him fully realizing the consequences of his actions when he could have ended up in Azkaban for at least a decade.
Now the worse has been avoided but I wonder what Remus would think about you and what you did when he learns about it. As for Potter, sir. He may have saved Snape but I don’t think it was an act of bravery or altruism. I think he was protecting Remus because he, unlike Black, understood what could have happened to him should Snape have at least been infected. And that’s a generous way of thinking of his character. The idea that he did it simply for fame is not far fetched either though in this case I am willing to believe it wasn’t. Since it wasn’t a disinterested or selfless act, he should not be rewarded. That’s not how we, Gryffindors, act. It isn’t our way.”
McGonagall’s gaze was positively beaming with pride barely concealed behind her trademark stern composure. Dumbledore’s expression was unreadable, though his fingers steepled beneath his chin suggested deep thought. Flitwick and Slughorn exchanged a subtle nod of agreement, their eyes glinting with quiet approval. And Lily… Lily looked at him like he’d just won the Triwizard Tournament, cured dragon pox, and baked her a chocolate cake all at once. Her eyes blazed with admiration and hunger.
“Mister Snape, you will speak of no one what happened tonight. Especially what you’ve seen and heard regarding Mister Lupin. The consequences will be dire if you do. Is that understood?” spoke up Dumbledore. Gone was his grandfatherly voice, replaced by the powerful authority of the strongest Wizard in Magical Britain if not the world.
“Yes, Professor. Perfectly.”
“Your loss of points stands. No matter the reason you were out of your room after curfew. Now, Mister Potter… Mister Wald’s words make sense. I will however go against my better judgment and confirm the points you earned. After all, regardless of the reasons you acted, you still saved Mister Snape’s life from a great peril at the risk of your own.”
“Thank you, Headmaster.”
“Mister Black… I hope you have begun to realize how lucky you are to have loyal friends. Mister Wald may have been harsh but he told the truth. It may not have been your intent to cause any harm but a jury may not have seen it that way. I would advise you to reflect on your actions tonight.”
Sirius didn’t say anything and kept looking at his feet, his shoulders hunched and jaw clenched tight. The swagger that usually clung to him like a second skin was gone, replaced by a heavy, almost haunted stillness. He looked like a boy who had just realized the enormity of what he'd done and couldn’t look anyone in the eye because of it.
“To make sure that you do, you have one hour detention every day for the rest of the year. It is to your head of house’s discretion to choose what those detentions will be about. Now, like Horace pointed out earlier, it’s quite late and I think we could all use some good sleep. Time to return to your bed.”
Being dismissed, the students left the office for their respective common room. Rick and Lily walked behind Potter and Black to make sure they wouldn’t wander around. They doubted they would after the whole ordeal but just in case they did.
“How did Sirius get caught?” he whispered to his girlfriend.
“I don’t know. When I told Professor McGonagall she told me to go to the Headmaster’s office. Professor Flitwick was already there and aware. When I asked how he knew, he told me he received a message via patronus from Dumbledore. Soon after Sirius walked in alone.”
“I can’t believe those idiots' rivalry went that far. I guess we can’t hope everyone to be like Amelia and Frank.”
“Unfortunately.”
“So much for our plans.” he sighed.
“Oh, I’m still spending the night with you. For cuddles only. I’m not really in the mood anymore.”
“Me neither.”
As Rick and Lily made their quiet way back to the Gryffindor common room, the soft shuffle of their footsteps echoed through the dim corridor. Behind them, the meeting in Dumbledore’s office still lingered like a storm that hadn’t quite passed. Slughorn had departed, escorting a weary and silent Snape back to the dungeons, but the rest of the faculty remained anchored in heavy discussion, tension humming in the walls like residual magic. The weight of what had nearly happened tonight wasn’t done settling not yet.
“I have to say, I’m surprised you listen to Wald, Albus.” Minerva said.
“I thought Black understood that what he did was wrong. That he was mature enough to realize how bad it could have been for everyone involved. When I saw that it wasn’t the case when he got berated, I simply couldn’t ignore it.”
“You must be quite proud, Minerva.” There was no sarcasm in the voice.
“Filius, Black nearly got another student killed by using his own friend. There is nothing to be proud about.”
“Oh! No, I was talking about Wald. For someone who doesn’t like conflicts and hastily avoids it, he sure stood his ground.”
“I agree. He has matured into quite the young man. One who does what is right and goes against his own if what they did is wrong instead of being uncaring. I had a glimpse of what kind of man he could become when he used the Cruciatus on himself all those years ago and I’m happy to see he turned out better than I imagined and hoped.”
Minerva said nothing, but the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her. She sat with her hands folded, composed as ever, yet even the sharpest eyes in the room could tell beneath the stoic mask, the praise for her favorite lion had struck true. She was glowing with silent, barely-contained pride.
“Did you have your career meeting with him already?” inquired Dumbledore
“Right before dinner.”
“And?”
“And he has time to make a decision, Filius.”
“Come on, what does he want to do? Tell us.”
Sighing with a long-suffering patience only decades of teaching could instill, the cat animagus gave them an answer, her tone laced with equal parts fondness and exasperation. “It ranges from Unspeakable to stay at home dad.”
“Stay at home dad? Now I didn’t expect that. Unspeakable, yes. This, no.” replied the charm instructor.
“I’m quite surprised too.”
“So was I. Of all the things… I tried to dissuade him, that he would be wasting all his talent and hard work and he agreed. It’s still on the table though. Otherwise he’s thinking of doing a few masteries and possibly becoming a teacher.”
“A mastery in charms I hope?”
“And Potions. Transfiguration too but at a later time.”
“You didn’t orient him towards quidditch?” wondered the Headmaster, amused.
“I tried.” she replied with a smirk. “He’s thinking about it too. It would be only for a few years however. You know he doesn’t particularly like the game, he just likes flying. I think he will just wander the world studying magic in the process for a few years. He is an explorer after all.”
“That will serve him well. It did for me. Why, once I…”
“It’s late, Albus.” interjected Filius.
The headmaster deflated and spoke in a saddened tone. “Why doesn’t anybody want to hear my stories? They’re quite good.”
“It’s not that we don’t want to listen to them, Albus. It’s that you always begin to tell them at the wrong time. I swear you have the worst timing. How about breakfast tomorrow?”
“Oh, yes. Excellent idea.” Filius agreed.