"He applied for the position—Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Dumbledore leaned back in a soft rocking chair, placing Severus Snape's application on the desk before her. The man in the black-and-white photograph had gloomy eyes and looked terrifying; even the sunlight streaming through the open window could not dispel the darkness surrounding him.
"No. He's a Prince. Potions is what suits him best."
"Just as I thought. But we don't need two Potions teachers. If Severus becomes the Potions professor, what will happen to Slughorn?"
Pomona looked into Dumbledore's expectant eyes behind his half-moon spectacles and seemed to understand something.
"Many of the Death Eaters in this war came from his House. He should resign and take responsibility for his poor management," Pomona said softly.
"However, considering his many years of teaching at Hogwarts, I believe it was merely negligence caused by old age and dwindling energy. A man his age ought to retire." Dumbledore took Snape's application back, pursing his lips in thought.
"Why did you let a Death Eater into the school?" A chill rose from the soles of her feet and spread through her entire body. Unable to help herself, she hugged her own shoulders, just as Lily had, as though embracing herself.
"One day, you will know, my dear." Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes narrowing behind his half-moon spectacles. "Don't you think our Muggle Studies class ought to have a position specially created for a teacher?"
Dumbledore tossed the application onto the desk, crossed his hands over his chest, and rocked the wooden chair with the tip of his foot, making it creak.
Pomona wanted him to stop. The sound made her terribly uncomfortable—and it was very obscene.
In the moonlight, someone stood with his bare upper body turned away from her, his sharply defined