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Unfortunately, while a wise man would have recognised the problem faced by a certain Professor Snape and employed significant amount of manpower to the task, Albus Dumbledore had used a sort of weird logic-reversal before going gallivanting at another ICW congress. If the head of Slytherin House hadn't the time to do these extra-curricular duties during the school year, fine. Fortunately, these were why the winter holidays were for, weren't they?
A Professor like Flitwick, Sinistra or Sprout would have sent the Supreme Mugwump packing to have the audacity of ordering them like this. Give them more duties and forcing them to staying there during the holidays without paying them in return? Dumbledore would have faced a general insurrection of his teachers! But said wizards and witches were not at the mercy of the Headmaster. Should Flitwick decide one day to leave Hogwarts, there wasn't a lot the Defeater of Grindelwald could do to stop him. Severus Snape on the other hand, would not last a long time outside without the protection of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. No matter what the sheep of the Wizarding World thought, they were plenty of Death Eaters in liberty not regretting at all their crimes. Without the protection an ancestral manor could afford, the Potions Master would not last a week. Like it or not, Severus Snape was trapped at Hogwarts as long as Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort both died. And he did not like it.
"What I do in the name of your memory, Lily..." Sighed Severus Snape, a melancholic expression passing for an instant on his visage. Just an instant. His expression re-hardened the moment after. Lily Potter was long dead, killed by the fault of this imbecile and traitor James Potter, and he hadn't been able to do anything about it. Her daughter was forced to live the life of a paria...and that too he hadn't been able to do anything, because Dumbledore had forbidden him to intervene in any fashion in the Potter heiress' life. The Potions Master couldn't treat Sirius Black and his insufferable son like they deserved. The Boy-Who-Lived could not be expulsed from Hogwarts despite dozens of major incidents. Sometimes, he really regretted being alive and having to deal with several things at once, his role as a double-agent was most of the time the least problematic of the roles he had to play.
Descending the stairs, the Potions Masters threw a glance at the other moving methods of transportation inside the school. All were clear of any human and animal presence. Snape doubted the Headmaster had noticed, but counting the staff members and the students, they were exactly seventeen persons present at Hogwarts for Christmas. Any chance of the Heir of Slytherin striking before the end of the year was null. To do so would result in the Potions Master pumping the sixteen other persons so full of Veritaserum they would spill every secret from their birth to their death. Yes, Truth Serum administered in large quantities was fatal. No, the Head of Slytherin had no problem with it. Anyone who petrified people to support this stupid blood-purity policy deserved a very dolorous end when he or she would be caught.
Of course, that wasn't the only important thing Albus Dumbledore had missed, in Snape's opinion. The Chief Warlock was a master politician and an excellent orator, able to make the majority of the British witches and wizards he was the only choice as Leader of the Light. Yet, they were cracks in this apparent invincibility. As a teacher sitting at the Head table, the Potions Master had remarked how many young students were fixing the empty throne at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Some of them had fear, discontent, veneration, happiness in their gaze. But they were others. Others who had lights of ambition in their eyes. Teenagers who looked at the lone seat symbolising the highest position of Hogwarts...and wondered. With the enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindors spiralling out of control, Severus Snape felt it was only a matter of time before somebody challenged the Headmaster. The first attempt would not succeed, no matter what Lucius Malfoy thought. Dumbledore was simply too powerful, his control in the politics and system of alliances ruling Britain too absolute. But it was a start. And sometimes insignificant events had led to bigger changes worldwide...
28 December 1992, MacDougal Manor, Ireland
Christmas and Yule had passed and MacDougal Manor has emptied itself again. There had been long and silent wait during the night of the solstice where the entire MacDougal clan had been present, followed by fireworks, garlands, enchanted fairy lights, drinks and meals to profusion. The day of Christmas had been marked with joy and the opening of countless presents. Alexandra had received so many books from persons she hadn't spoken before she knew some would have to wait until summer break to be read. But now it was the twenty-eighth and the party was over. The large and imposing Christmas tree was still here, but the invitees were gone. Lord Glenn and Lady Isobel MacDougal had departed respectively for the Wizengamot and the Comet Trading Company headquarters, putting an end to Duelling and sword lessons. Apart from the house-elves in charge of the kitchens and the basic chores, the only occupants of the Manor were two twelve-year old girls, sitting in a massive living room in front of a chess set and listening to animated songs on the Wizarding Wireless Network.
"It's snowing again, Morag."
"You know, if you don't move this rook anytime soon, I'm going to put you into checkmate, Alexandra. Snow or not."
"I didn't peg you for the vengeful type." Sighed Alexandra with an exaggerated roll of shoulders. "Gifting me a chess game at Christmas to beat me at your leisure..."
"Me? Vengeful?" Laughed the red-haired Irish girl. "What should I want a pay back of?"
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