Severus was not thrilled to be summoned to the headmaster’s study for a second night in less than a week—particularly considering the way the past week had gone—but he made his way back up the stairs as ordered. Minerva was once again in attendance, and he was more than slightly surprised to find Harry there as well. “Albus?”

“Ah, Severus, I’m glad you’re here. Lemon drop?”

Have I ever accepted one of those things? He rather thought not. “Thank you, but no. Was there something that you wanted?”

“There is to be a hearing in front of the Wizengamot tomorrow.”

“I had thought the matter of the Carmichael boy was settled.” Decidedly unsatisfactorily, but settled nonetheless.

Albus’ jaw tightened fractionally, and he shook his head. “A hearing about Umbridge and her blood quill, actually.”

Severus stared for a moment. He’d assumed Fudge would sweep the entire matter under the nearest rug. What the advantage would be in revealing it was…. From the expression on his face, Albus hadn’t even had to push for the outcome. “Why?” Harry glared, and he waved a hand. “Obviously a hearing is appropriate, but I can’t believe that that idiot Fudge would allow you to say anything even remotely negative about one of his toadies in an open court.”

“Neither can I,” Minerva agreed. “But the message the owl brought was plain enough.”

He accepted the piece of parchment, reading it through quickly. There was a great deal to the message, but it was a quite clear. “Hm.”

“I’ll be accompanying Harry, of course,” Albus said, “and Minerva as his Head-of-House, but I’d like you to come along as well.”

“Why?” He had no particular desire to go parading around the Ministry in his current state…quite honestly he had no particular desire to go parading around the Ministry in any state.

“You were the one to discover the injuries,” Albus pointed out.

“During Occlumency lessons. Need I remind you what happened the last time someone at the Ministry learned I was practicing Legilimency on the boy?”

“I don’t think we’ll need to bring that part up, merely mentioning that you saw the scarring during tutoring should be sufficient.”

“Why not take Miss Granger? She’s the one that helped him heal them.”

“Miss Granger is an excellent student,” Minerva said, “but she hasn’t had any type of experience in this type of arena.”

Minerva was right, of course. Granger would do her best to be accommodating to the Ministry’s questions as any child would; it would be all too easy to turn her testimony against her. Whether he could see the purpose or not, Severus had no doubt that Fudge had some sort of angle he was working from. No point in giving him any more ammunition. He gave a grudging nod. “What time will we be going?”

“Just after breakfast tomorrow.”

He nodded sharply, wondering why it had been necessary for him to come up here for a conversation that could have been held just as easily by floo, and then stood. “If you’ll excuse me, then.”

Harry stood with him and matched his pace as he made his way down the stairs. He looked rather unhappy, and after a few minutes managed a quiet, “Professor?”

“Yes?” He had a sudden, rather disturbing thought, and paused long enough to shoot a dark look up at Albus’ study. I am neither a babysitter nor a sounding board for distraught students. Particularly ones that aren’t even in my h— He cut off that train of thought abruptly.

Harry didn’t seem to notice his momentary distraction. “Last time I was at the Ministry was before school started…they tried to expel me for using magic to stop two Dementors that came after me and my cousin.”

Severus vaguely remembered Dumbledore mentioning something of the sort, but there had been so much else going on then that actually related to him in some manner that he hadn’t paid much attention. “Well, obviously you’re here so the attempt was unsuccessful.”

“Yeah, but the way he acted…what if this is more of the same thing?”

“Harry, even Fudge wouldn’t be idiotic enough to suggest that you were using a blood quill on yourself because you wanted to.” Well, he might, actually, but that’s one lie that no one would believe.

Harry shrugged but didn’t look particularly convinced.

“Regardless, both Albus and Minerva will be there, and neither of them will put up with that sort of nonsense.”

“That’s true,” Harry muttered, more to himself than Severus.

“Then quit fussing and go back to your dorms. If your professors haven’t assigned enough homework to keep you busy, please feel free to use the time to work on your Occlumency.”

///////////

Morning had dawned wet and miserable—a pleasant reflection of Severus’ mood—although they went directly to the Ministry so he never actually had to go out in it. Harry seemed relieved when they went up to one of the normal courtrooms after stopping in at the visitors’ desk, why he couldn’t say, but the boy tensed up again when they entered and saw the full Wizengamot already seated.

Fudge seemed to be presiding over things, which didn’t make Severus feel any better, but he took his seat when ordered and studied the audience. Not just the full Wizengamot but several reporters as well…. What does he have planned? He returned his attention—grudgingly—to Fudge as he finished droning on about the charges and Harry was called forward. It made sense, of course, to have the accuser speak first, but Severus still didn’t like it. He liked it even less when, after Albus had run through the necessary questions, the Minister smiled as he stood.

The boy was obviously nervous, but still, none of Fudge’s questions seemed particularly out of line. Asked in a snide tone, but…. ‘Are you sure Professor Umbridge gave you the quill?’ ‘When was it again?’ ‘What were you ordered to write?’ He turned an interesting shade of red when Harry answered the question ‘Why did she tell you to write that?’ and the boy stated flat out that he’d seen Voldemort return and had refused to listen to her lie, but Albus cut Fudge off before he could pursue the subject on the grounds that it didn’t actually relate to the hearing at hand. There was whispering among the members of the Wizengamot at that, but Albus ignored it and waved at Severus to rise.

Fudge’s expression twisted in disgust as Severus and Harry exchanged seats.

“You were the one to discover what Professor Umbridge had done to Mr. Potter, correct?” Albus began.

“Yes.”

“When did this occur?”

“At the end of last week, during a tutoring session. He had scars on his hand and when pressed admitted what Umbridge had done. I reported it immediately, of course.”

“Thank you.”

Simple, to the point…Fudge rose to take his turn asking questions, and Severus wondered once again where he thought this was going. She had done it; they had proof.

“According sources, you aren’t currently teaching at Hogwarts so I fail to understand why you might have been tutoring Mr. Potter.”

Severus stared.

Fudge stared for a few moments as well, and then flushed a bit darker. “Well? Are you going to answer?”

“You have yet to ask me a question.”

That drew a glare. “Are you a teacher at Hogwarts?”

“Yes.”

“What are you teaching?”

“I am employed as the potions professor, currently on a medical sabbatical.”

Fudge sneered at the remains of his arm. “And just why is that?”

“Because I’m injured.” Obviously.

“And just how did that happen? An illegal duel?”

“A torture session with the Dark Lord, actually,” Severus said bluntly.

Fudge went from red to an interesting shade of purple, and Albus cleared his throat. “And how does how Professor Snape was injured relate to the matter at hand?”

“He’s delusional,” Fudge said.

“Of course, I’m imagining that my eye, my kidney, and a rather large portion of my left arm are missing. Perhaps I imagined the scars on Mr. Potter’s hand as well. Would you care to look?”

The Minister swung back around to glare at him. “You claim you had a torture session with someone vanquished fifteen years ago, you call a child’s prank an attempted murder—”

“A prank?” Severus interrupted. “Tell me, Minister, how many ‘prank’ curses do you know that start with ‘Avada’?” This didn’t relate to Umbridge’s blood quill either, but at least he was getting a say in court. Not the right court, but... “Because I, in my fifteen years of teaching—which I think we’re all agreed is a profession that sees more than it’s fair share of pranks—have heard of none. Nor have my colleagues, most of whom have been teaching since before I was a student.” Or even alive, in several cases. “So?”

“We aren’t discussing that,” Fudge snarled.

“Of course not.” Then why did you bring it up?

“If you have no more relevant questions?” Albus cut in.

Fudge opened and shut his mouth for a moment and then shook his head. “If you were tutoring Mr. Potter and simply saw these scars, then how did you know there was a blood quill involved?”

Severus was beginning to regret ignoring the elections because there had to have been a better candidate than this ninny. “I know of very few people who would willingly carve ‘I will not tell lies’ on the back of their hand, and fewer still who would be capable of doing so on the back of the hand they normally write with. Therefore, I asked.”

“But he didn’t report it himself.”

“Obviously.”

Fudge let him off the stand after that, and Albus declined to call Minerva—she wouldn’t actually have anything to add anyway—so the next person to take a seat was Umbridge.

“What is he up to?” Severus muttered. As she was the accused, Fudge would have first right to question her, and he seemed entirely too content as she settled herself into the chair.

Harry had tensed, but the woman didn’t even glance in their direction. Instead she shifted once more and spared a simpering smile for Fudge.

“Can you tell us of the events which occurred on the night in question?” Fudge asked.

“Nights,” Harry muttered, only to be shushed by Minerva.

She went off on a long, bizarrely-tangented story about how the boy had been an utter pain in class—something Severus could actually attest to—and how he’d screamed lies at her in the middle of her lecture—decidedly unlikely, even if he hadn’t seen the memory—and how she’d assigned him lines as detention.

“With a blood quill?” Fudge asked.

“Well, yes.”

“Why that particular type quill for the lines?”

“Well, it was used when I was a student and it was always quite effective. Especially for students,” she glanced at Harry with a sniff, “who refuse to behave properly.”

“Did you know that it was not an acceptable form of punishment?”

Albus gave no obvious reaction, but Minerva straightened slightly.

“Well, no, of course not. When I started teaching I was free to choose my own syllabus, determine my own lectures, told that I could give detention or take points when students were out of line…certainly no one told me anything about blood quills being prohibited.”

“So as far as you knew you were acting in accordance with stated policy.”

“Of course. I always follow the guidelines set out by the Ministry.”

Fudge smiled with satisfaction. “Then I have no more questions. Dumbledore?”

“Yes, thank you. Tell me, since you are so familiar with Ministry guidelines, can you tell me how long ago blood quills were registered as dark devices.”

She colored slightly. “I suppose I can’t say for certain….”

“But you know that they are, of course.” He continued before she had a chance to respond. “It didn’t occur to you that using a dark device on a student might not be appropriate?”

“It didn’t say—”

“We don’t explicitly state that professors shouldn’t use Unforgivables on the students either; I would think there are some things that go without saying.”

That didn’t stop Moody—fake-Moody, anyway—last year, from what Draco had said. Harry had been put under Imperius at least once, and the other curses had certainly been demonstrated.

Umbridge opened her mouth and then shut it again. “It’s not the same. I didn’t know.”

“How long ago were you a student? Forty, fifty years?”

She colored. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question for you to be aski—”

“Certainly long enough ago that you noticed that the rules governing the treatment of students have changed slightly. And still you deliberately chose to use a dark device as a punishment.”

“Bit I didn’t know,” she repeated, voice strident.

“Of course not. As you've already admitted your guilt, I have no more questions.”

A vote was called for moments later…the charge had been something about misuse of dark artifacts, Severus thought, although he hadn’t been paying much attention at the beginning of the hearing. Apparently Fudge had used enough influence to keep it from being labeled assault on a minor. She was voted guilty—by a smaller margin than he’d have liked; had some of the members of the Wizengamot actually considered letting her off on the theory that she didn't know dark devices shouldn't be used on children?—but Fudge didn’t seem particularly concerned. In fact….

The man moved to the center of the room before the crowd could disperse. “In light of recent events, particularly the obvious lack of supervision of new teachers—in fact, all teachers—at Hogwarts School of Magic, a decision has been made to appoint a Ministry official as an overseer to the school. After all of the events that have occurred there in the past years—students running amok, a werewolf as a professor, a delusional professor—” that was said with a sneer in Severus’ direction—“and countless other acts of less-than-sound judgment on the acts of the staff, the Ministry feels that this is the only way to safeguard our children.”

“I…what?” Minerva blurted, the question fortunately masked by the murmurs racing around the rest of the room.

Severus hoped the man was speaking generally when he said ‘our children.’ If another one of him turns up at Hogwarts, I’m taking a permanent vacation.

“Have you any candidates for the position?” one of the reporters called out.

“As Delores Umbridge will be on suspension from her Ministry office in light of the Wizengamot’s recent decision—caused, as I’m sure you no doubt noticed, by the same type of irresponsible behavior that necessitates this action—I am hereby appointing her to the position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor with the power to oversee classes and instructors and to make recommendations based upon her observations. I hope that such oversight will prevent incidents such as that discussed here today in the future.”

“She made me cut myself up with a blood quill, so now she gets to fuss about with everything else at Hogwarts because she made me cut myself up with a blood quill?” Harry demanded. “Fudge is nutters!”

“Fudge is a bloody idiot,” Severus agreed under his breath.

Albus’ eyes were narrowed, but the reporters had moved in to question Fudge and there was no way to interrupt his oh-so-eloquent speech about how the lack of adequate supervision had permitted the hiring of werewolves and ‘those of questionable character and moral fiber’—another obvious glance at Severus—as professors, the random acts of disobedience among students, the suspicion of sheltering the notorious criminal Sirius Black, and so on, without causing a scene. A scene that would no doubt play directly into Fudge’s plans. It was actually a rather impressive—if nauseating—piece of work. Even if he’s right about the werewolf. And the mutt.

He didn’t realize just how masterful the speech was until Fudge began to wind down and the reporters started to ask their own questions. With the more respectable papers in the Minister’s pocket…. Severus shook his head. No wonder Fudge had made the hearing public. The majority of the rest of the population would probably never hear about just which professor had used the blood quill, only that it had been done and that, in response, the Minister had taken the initiative to create a position that would ‘ensure the health and safety of the Wizarding world’s most precious resource.’ And never mind that the cretin that did the deed is the one acting as overseer. He was annoyed to realize that his own little outburst probably gave more credibility to the idea that the professors needed to be evaluated; the idea of a student openly attempting to murder one of his teachers did sound rather ridiculous on the face of it. Unfortunately, it’s exactly what happened. Damn him. Severus wasn’t entirely certain whether he was damning Carmichael or Fudge at this point, but then he had more than enough borderline-fury to go around.

Fudge was saying something about decrees now—educational decrees? To be posted within the day.

“We’ll wait in the hall,” Albus murmured.

Minerva’s fingers kept twitching in the direction of her wand every time the door opened, but finally the last of the reporters melted away—they hadn’t even tried to get a sound byte out of Albus which meant they were just going to make up his responses as they went—and Fudge and Umbridge exited the courtroom.

“Ah, Professor Dumbledore, I’d hoped to have a chance to speak with you,” Fudge said. “I realize that you’ve filled Delores’ position, but she will need rooms and—”

“I believe you’ve overstepped yourself,” Albus interrupted smoothly.

“Not at all. The Ministry may not be able to interfere directly in Hogwarts affairs, but we can certainly see that the children are receiving a proper education, can’t we?” His smile was oily.

“Well, clearly there are several cases where we didn’t succeed in the past,” Severus agreed as Harry open his mouth. “Obviously there are some students who managed to finish seven years while still being incapable of figuring out that using a dark device, on a minor, no less, is not the act of a law abiding witch.” He glanced at Umbridge, and then away. “Or wizard.”And frankly I doubt that you manage to dress yourself in the morning without ample assistance.

Fudge’s face darkened. “You think you’re so special, Snape, but I know what you are. Everyone does. We should have a hearing on you. We will someday; you’ll see.”

“Severus has long since been cleared of any charges,” Albus said with an air of someone who’d already been forced to repeat the same statement one too many times and would not take it kindly if he was made to do so again.

Fudge barely spared him a glance, leaning in towards Severus. “You think you're smart, Snape. Well, you're not smart; you're dumb. Very dumb. But you've met your match in me.”

Both Minerva and Harry suffered sudden spates of coughing—Harry’s far less convincing—and even Albus looked away. Severus just bowed slightly. “I’ll certainly concede that point.”

If Fudge realized what he’d said, he gave no sign. “Yes, well, you might still be listed as a professor, but we’ll see just how long that stays true.” He turned and stalked off, and Umbridge hurried to keep up.

“You really shouldn’t bait him, my boy,” Albus commented quietly as they turned back for the floo. “He could make life difficult for you.”

“The man invites it.” I have Deatheaters out to get me; I’m not going to be intimidated by a weasel of a public figure. Especially since the worst he can do is throw me in Azkaban, and with the Dementors gone I would probably find it a relaxing vacation.

They managed to arrive at Hogwarts in time for lunch, and Harry disappeared quickly to find his friends while Albus sent messages to the rest of the staff to let them know there was going to be a meeting as soon as dinner was finished. With no way of knowing when Umbridge and her ‘educational decrees’ would be arriving, none of them wanted to wait. Severus took the time to reorganize his potions’ stores and catalog which ones were fast-acting untraceable poisons.

///////////

“They’ve arrived,” Minerva growled as he entered the staff room as soon as dinner had ended. She hadn’t been at dinner…from the expression on her face she’d probably have spent the meal destroying the glassware anyway. “Although she hasn’t, which I suppose is something.”

I’ll take a few pieces of paper over that idiot any day. Still, she’d be coming soon enough. “What does it say?”

Minerva waited until Albus and the rest of the faculty had arrived before laying the scroll on the nearest table. “Well, here it is. ‘The Position of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor and Associated Educational Decrees. By order of the Ministry of Magic, the school and staff of Hogwarts will submit to an examination of all classes and teaching policies by a duly appointed Ministry official to ensure that the children of the Wizarding World are being given the best education possible. This official will henceforth be referred to as the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. In support of the efforts of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor to improve the quality of our children’s education, the following educational decrees have been passed and will be put into effect at Hogwarts immediately.’” She snorted. “At least there are only twenty-two of them.”

“So far,” Devon commented, leaning over to peer at a small paragraph at the bottom. “‘The Ministry reserves the right to modify and expand these decrees as necessary, as determined by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor.’”

“How nice for her.” Rhiannon did not look pleased. “Look at this—educational decree twenty-two ‘In the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.’ I wonder if that’s how Umbridge got the job as DADA professor in the first place.”

“The decrees weren’t in effect then,” Albus said with a shake of his head. “I accepted her as a candidate simply because there was no one else. I wonder, though, if I had objected….” He shook his head again. “This may have been planned for quite awhile.”

Like perhaps since last year when he first began to try and discredit you? Severus couldn’t say it aloud though, any more than Albus could directly express his opinion of the Minister. They could all be obviously displeased with the decrees—and Umbridge—since none of them had any desire to be ‘overseen,’ but there was no telling who might pass along a bit of something to the Ministry. He knew the rest of the staff well enough to believe that it would be unintentional, but there were a few who didn’t always guard their tongues as closely as they should. Games inside games. Although I finally have a reason to be thankful to the Dark Lord—she’s got no reason to be ‘observing’ me. Not that he expected that would stop her, but he would have no issue claiming he was ‘recovering’ and thus unavailable.

He scanned through the rest of the decrees but didn’t see anything particularly noxious. Well, not more noxious than the existence of the decrees themselves, anyway. This one stated that the High Inquisitor was to be given the same respect as a professor, that one that said Inquisitor had the right to question the students without an adult present…. Merlin’s beard, a decree that the decrees must be posted. There’s an excellent use of parchment. They were little things, mostly, the majority of which—like the decree about posting—seemed rather stupid to put in print. Although if you start small and work up, people don’t always realize what is happening until it’s too late to object. It was how the Dark Lord had operated, at least at first, and it made him feel slightly ill. He took his leave of the group as soon as he legitimately could and made his way back to his rooms, only to find Poppy waiting for him. “Can I help you?”

“When I said you were recovering nicely, I hardly meant that you were in any state to go gallivanting off all over creation.”

“I’m fine, Poppy, it’s just been a…long day.”

“Hmph. I heard about those decrees, but I’ve been in the infirmary dealing with a few Hufflepuffs who managed to grow several extra limbs—or at least that's what they were attempting; of course what they ended up with were random bits of bone sticking out here and there with no way to tell what was supposed to be what—while trying to throw a surprise party for one of their friends.” She waved him towards the couch, motioning for him to have a seat. “I suppose they thought it would be useful to have a few extra hands and didn’t consider the fact that you'd somehow have to recreate an entire muscle and nervous system as well as skin and bone. Students never consider the consequences.” Her wand flicked in a diagnostic pattern. “As, apparently, you didn’t when you decided to go down to the Ministry. I know you’re feeling better, Severus, but you still need to be resting regularly during the day. Now, I’m going to go have some supper and see about those decrees; you need to get some rest.”

Yes, I’ll want to be bright and cheerful when the High Inquisitor arrives. He snorted and waved the door panel shut with a bit more force than strictly necessary.