Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything here, and more to the point, parts of the text come straight from one of the seven Harry Potter novels of J. K. Rowling in an attempt to fill in the gaps. 

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"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first year rule. Heaven knows we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks." 

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry...but she was not thinking of him.. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." She concluded. 

The two boys had turned and disappeared to another corridor before McGonagall herself headed back to her office. An unlucky abrupt turn made her stop just short of a scowling Professor Snape, whose attention was completely enwrapped with a few remarkably frightened looking first years. 

He straightened immediately when he saw her, shooing the students with a few quick movements of his fingers. They did not hesitate to respond. 

"Severus." 

He tipped his head, "Professor." He said languidly. 

"It is most fortunate that I should find you here with the news I have to share." She said, barely containing her glee. 

"Indeed?" He replied questioningly though his face remained impassive. 

"Indeed, indeed." She continued. "You see I've just run across Gryffindor's new seeker!" Her eyes glittered. 

Snape arched a single brow, his tone dry. "May I inquire as to who the lucky fellow is?" 

"Ah, you may, Severus, but then I'd be too afraid of you spoiling his lessons with detention. However, I do look forward in sharing the first Slytherin/Gryffindor game of the year with you. It should prove to be interesting." 

A smug grin appeared on his lips. "Let us hope, for your sake, that it is a tad more interesting that last years." 

She pursed her lips. "And lets hope, for your sake, that you don't wager too highly this time – Ah Sybil, I had a question for you if you please." 

His face turned once more to stone as she greeted Professor Trelawney and proceeded down the corridor, watching their robes glide behind them… "Five points from Gryffindor for eaves dropping on a teacher's private conversation." He broke his eyes away glaring down at a frozen third year. 

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Snape stormed through the classroom, slamming each window shut with slow forceful waves of his hand, gaining only the necessary, if angry, composure as he reached the front and whirled on his startled students. He cast his eyes slowly across each pupil intently until they rested firmly on his object, the new Gryffindor seeker. "Mr. Potter, our new celebrity…" 

He blurted out his orders, which was followed by the rustle of paper and pen. Without a moments more consideration Snape aloud himself to sink down into his chair, the bitterness flicking at his thoughts. There should be no doubt that he would be chosen as seeker. Those Gryffindors, so loyal to their own, so callous to those who are not. She would not think anything more than her precious quidditch game, would not look beyond her new found golden boy, so like his father. Arrogant and lazy without the hint of what truly makes a man great. James Potter, always the beloved boy, who could do no wrong. 

He stopped abruptly and snarled, painfully aware of where his thoughts had led him. He picked up his quill and began to scratch out notes for his drafts. When he looked up his eyes met directly with Potters and lingered there without clearly seeing him. How could she possibly know what makes a man great? 

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"Minerva, my dear, there is nothing that gives me greater pleasure than to watch a spirited game of quidditch between two of my most challenging houses, however, London will not wait for an old man such as myself any longer than they must." 

"But Albus, really, the first game – " 

"Will be won and lost just as skillfully in my absence." Dumbledore said kindly. "But see here, Professor Snape has just arrived to cut the edge of my parting." McGonagall made to protest but Dumbledore once again spoke first as Snape approached the stadium. "Severus, do kindly sit with Minerva on my behalf." 

Snape greeted McGonagall with a small sharp bow before responding. "Headmaster. I had hoped to sit with my fellow Slytherins, but perhaps keeping a careful eye on this particular side of the field would be more pertinent." McGonagall shot him a dirty look but said nothing. 

"Very well then, it's settled." Dumbledore smiled. "Do try to set a good example, both of you, for the sake of the students." He touched his nose and chuckled as he strolled away. 

There was a moment of awkward silence as the two professors glanced toward students filing past them. "Shall we proceed while there are still seats to be had?" Snape asked. 

"Oh yes." McGonagall answered lifting her robes as she began to climb the stairs. "I do hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Severus, considering this terms improvements." 

"That, of yet, remains to be seen." Snape answered behind her. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: see previous 

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Professor McGonagall, in a tartan dressing-gown and hairnet, had Malfoy by the ear. "Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you – " 

"You don't understand, Professor, Harry Potter's coming – he's got a dragon!" 

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on – I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!" 

Minutes later there was an abrupt rapping on Snape's door. Reluctantly he put aside his copy of 'Magical Drafts and Potions' fully prepared with a snide remark about the hour as he swung open the door, but was silenced by the unexpectedness of the woman before him. 

"Severus, I found one of your students roaming around the tower ranting of dragons. I have enough of my own to deal with so I thought you might like to take Malfoy yourself." McGonagall pursed her lips together as she finished speaking. 

Snape didn't respond immediately, but continued to look the slightest bit unprepared. Her night shift was green, something about that.. Yes, the Quidditch match last fall, that was it. She had worn green, why had that not struck him as odd? Didn't she always wear that ridiculous red and gold scarf? 

McGonagall, still holding fast to Malfoy began to fidget nervously. Quite aware that she was by no means properly dressed and her hair was not securely tucked into a knot behind her head. The way this loose braid fell across her shoulder.. She could only imagine how old she must look. There was something in his stare that defeated her. Inwardly she could feel herself stumble and tighten. Fortunately, Malfoy's whimpering seemed to break the silence and Snape came back into focus. 

"Yes, well.." He said slowly looking down at the boy. "Leave him here, I will deal with him." Malfoy winced. 

McGonagall nodded and started back towards her lot, glad to be out from under Snape's incriminating gaze. Snape closed the door behind her still deep in his own thoughts. He could not quite recall, but it did seem… She did wear an awful lot of green for the Head of the Gryffindor house.. Emerald green, in fact. He'd never noticed.. 

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'I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!' 

'We'll risk it, Sybill,' said Professor McGonagall impatiently. 'Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold.' 

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen. 

'Tripe, Sibyll?' 

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?' 

'I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again,' Said Dumbledore, indicating that everyone should start serving themselves. 'Most unfortunate that it should be on Christmas Day.' 

'But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised. A slight cough came from the opposite side of the table and she turned to see Snape looking unapologetically at Trelawney. 

Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look. 'Certainly I knew, Minerva,' she said quietly. 'But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous.' 

'That explains a great deal,' said Professor McGonagall tartly. Another muffled cough caught her ear. 

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty. 'If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him – ' 

'Imagine that,' said professor McGonagall dryly. 

'I doubt,' said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, 'that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?' 

'Yes, Headmaster,' said Snape. An amused smile had crept onto his lips and his eyes glanced towards McGonagall's as though they had sought her out. 

'Good,' said Dumbledore. 'Then he should be up and about in no time…Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent.' 

Dumbledore's voice trailed on but Snape's eyes still rested on hers as if sharing some private, intimate joke. Surely it was for Sibyll's abuse, they had always shared a certain distaste for Divinations. She forced an awkward smile but it oddly produced the opposite effect. Snape's lips tightened and he turned stone faced back towards Dumbledore. In response, McGonagall looked down at her food, confused and a little wounded, but unable to pinpoint exactly why. 

Professor Trelawney behaved almost normal until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their party hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly. 

'My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?' 

'Dunno,' said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry. 

'I doubt it will make much of a difference,' said Professor McGonagall coldly, 'unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall.' 

Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted. 

'Coming?' Harry said to Hermione. 

'No.' Hermione muttered, 'I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall. 

McGonagall, herself getting up, searched quickly for just a word with Snape but sighted him already heading towards the door with some haste. She thought about following but Hermione approached just then with a question. She wondered for a moment why it was he always left in such a hurry. 

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"This can't go on Albus. First the dark mark, now this." 

"What do you suggest Minerva? 

"Put an end to it. Don't let potter compete." 

"You heard Barty, the rules are clear." 

"Well the devil with Barty and his rules! And since when did you accommodate them in this –" 

"Master, I too find it difficult to believe this mere coincidence,' Snape had stepped forward beside her so that their shoulders glided together, his elbow nudging her in just the smallest way. 'however, if we are to truly discover the meaning of these events perhaps we should, for the time being…let them unfold." 

"What? Do nothing?" She had reacted to his words but in turning her head to look at him she realized just how close they stood. Those eyes, stoic and unreadable caused a tightening her throat. She turned at once to Dumbledore. "Offer him up as bait? Potter is a boy. Not a piece of meat!" 

"I agree...with Severus. Alastor, keep an eye on him will you?" 

"I can do that." 

"Don't let him know though. He must be anxious enough as it is, knowing what lies ahead. Then again we all are." McGonagall threw her hands up in defeat as Dumbledore spoke, using this as an excuse to distance herself. Snape's eyes followed her, a small measure of regret tugging at the skin where she had stood. He tried to remember the last time, tried to remember if there ever was a time they stood so close as to touch. In two years had she even so much a brushed him? Even by accident? 

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The great hall was filled with guests, applauding the contestants in the Triwizard Tournament. She stood between them, closer to one than the other and visa versa. She couldn't help but notice that his robes met hers each time they clapped. Her throat was as tight as in Dumbledore's office those few months ago. She suddenly felt his shoulder against hers once more. She stole a sideways glance. He had the same stern, disapproving, barely tolerant look he always wore. 

There was nothing unordinary in any of his actions now than there ever had been in years past, and yet that strange feeling in her skin.. She felt him there. And then she felt a hand.. Dumbledore's, leading her onto the dance floor and she smiled at him in gracious relief. 

Snape watched them go, he would not dance. In fact he would leave as soon as possible to be rid of these irritatingly gay festivities and make the rounds for stray students. But he could not stop himself from watching them. Her face held that smile, so singular in form, reserved mostly for the Headmaster that Snape himself had seldom, if ever, been given. His blood boiled at the thought. 

There had always been rumors regarding the two elder wizards relationship, and though he knew them to be false, seeing them dance before him ate at his stomach. Their hands entwined, him touching her waist.. Snape grimaced. They were closer in age… it was not such a stretch of the imagination. The notion that McGonagall could ever fall for him, however.. He tried to think of other things, but she was wearing the most beautiful shade of green.. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimed: see previous 

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'Now really!' Said Professor Tofty anxiously. 'Only sixteen minutes left, you know!' 

But nobody paid him the slightest attention; they were watching the person now sprinting towards the battle beside Hagrid's cabin. 

'How dare you!' the figure shouted as she ran. 'How dare you!' 

'It's McGonagall!' whispered Hermione. 

'Leave him alone! Alone, I say!' said Professor McGonagall's voice through the darkness. 'On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such –' 

Hermione, Parvati and Lavender all screamed. The figures around the cabin had shot no fewer than four Stunners at Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams collided with her; for a moment she looked luminous and glowed an eerie red, then she lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back, and moved no more. 

Even in his dungeon, he thought, he would have heard her fall. He could hear her voice, high and commanding "How dare you...how dare you!" As it was, Snape appeared around the corner just in time to see her unceremonious collide with the earth. He made an instinctive jerking movement towards her then faltered. She wasn't moving, and every eye on the premise was watching. He forced his body to remain still, waiting. Hagrid suddenly became louder and more violent, flinging his aggressors to each side of him. Snape prayed it would be enough to distract the students for just this moment. 

He moved swiftly, his eyes focused only on her, there was no other way. In one controlled motion he lifted her and headed for his rooms. Students leapt back as he cleared the distance thrusting the door open with his shoulder. 

He poured her onto his couch sweating as he realized she lay completely unaware. In frantic motions he crossed the room clamoring through bottles. His face at least, he thought, held no emotion should anyone have seen him. Grabbing a vile he roughly propped her up against him on the couch holding her head in an upward angle and released just a few drops onto her parted lips. On contact they seemed to regain their color and slowly the rest of her did as well. He felt her inhale sharply and his muscles relaxed. She was alright. Well, of course she was alright. He looked down at her now, her breathing came steadier and her eyes fluttered just once. 

He leaned his head against the back of the couch. What was the matter with him? So much fuss over a few stunners. It was comical really, but he wasn't laughing. He felt even less like doing so when she began to stir. 

As McGonagall slowly became aware of her surroundings she recognized Snape's quarters and became hazily confused. She called his name in an almost frightened whisper. He tightened immediately. His hand still lay across her arm but their position had him pinned. "Severus?" She repeated. 

"I am here." He said coldly. 

Her breath came short and he thought she might try to move but she sighed at last, "Thank you, Severus." Closing her eyes once more. 

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When she came around again she still lay across the same couch but she was now alone. She slid her fingers along the edge in an effort to find someone but was immediately stopped. He had crossed the room in an instant. "Do not try to move, " He said, placing her hand back beside her. His fingers were cold and soft. He moved to leave but she forced out the word 'no' and he hesitated. 

When she said nothing he spoke in an informative manner. "I am sorry for the conditions. This room is hardly as adequate as St Mungo's. I am having some trouble attaining assistance to bring you there, what with the state this school's in and Dumbledore absence." He broke off when he noticed she was starring at him. "Can I – Do you need something?" he asked 

She shook her head. She wasn't thinking clearly, why was she with Snape? She had fallen, had been attacked. Well then why was she not with Poppy? 

As if in answer the door swung open and Madam Pomfrey stormed in. "Severus, explain to me again why she was brought here instead of to my ward where I could treat her properly?" Snape opened his mouth to answer when she cut him off. "Minerva! Thank goodness you've awoke, let me have a look at you then." She pushed past Snape briskly and he scowled but returned to his spot in the corner, where he remained for the duration of her unwanted visit. 

Madam Pomfrey left with more brisk orders to call her if any changes occurred and added that transportation to St Mungo's had been arranged for later that night. Snape shut the door behind her arrogantly. 

"Severus?" a voice called him. It was faint, but stronger than it had been hours ago. 

He moved towards her tapping his wand to bring forth a small silver goblet. "Drink." he said, resting it to her lips. She obeyed. "Madam Pomfrey has other.. 'unfortunates' she is tending to but I have arranged to abstain from my teaching while you are here – " 

"Severus?" she said and stopped drinking. He cocked his head in response. "Severus, why am I here?" 

"Ah, yes," he said, setting the cup on the nightstand beside her. "Regretfully the path to the hospital wing was littered with gapers. It was easier to bring you here and attend to you as soon as possible than to sort through them all." They stared at each other. He hoped this story was plausible. He would not tell her that as he brought her off the ground and into his arms he could no longer think but moved on instinct alone. Could not mention that he had been here, watching her every twitch and breath should her condition worsen and she need him.. for once. 

She regarded him there, rigidly towering above her. So close, not more than a foot away. She could reach out and meet his hand with hers with the smallest amount of effort. And then, to her surprise, she found she was. Her fingers glided slowly and rested on his cold, unresponsive ones. Snape's face contorted in the harshest way, but her strength was not with her and her hand remained immovable. 

She began to feel sick, a bubbling in her throat. But then his hand close around hers, reluctantly, she thought, ever so slowly. She looked up at him. His face was unyielding as he held her gaze, lowering himself so that he sat at her side. He placed her hand tenderly against her stomach, releasing it, but he did not pull away. She felt it moving up and down with her breathing. 

"I know she said," half smiling. "I'm not to move." 

His lips parted slightly but closed without a word. Then in an instant he had left her, clearing the length of the room in two strides just as she heard the door open again and Madam Pomfrey's voice saying, "One more thing, Severus.." By seven she was on her way to St Mungo's. 

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Snape looked towards the giant hour-glasses on the walls and gave a sneering smile. 'Ah, I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hour-glass to take away. In that case, Potter, we will simply have to – ' 

'Add some more?' 

Prof McGonagall had just stumped up the stone steps into the castle, she was carrying a tartan carpetbag in one hand and leaning heavily on a walking stick with the other, the otherwise looked quite well. 

'Professor McGonagall!' said Snape, striding forwards. 'Out of St Mungo's, I see!' He tried to keep his voice steady at the slight of her. 

'Yes, Professor Snape,' said Professor McGonagall, shrugging off her traveling cloak. 'I'm quite as good as new. You two – Crabbe – Goyle –' 

She beckoned them forwards imperviously and they came, shuffling their feet and looking awkward. 

'Here,' said Professor McGonagall, thrusting her carpetbag into Crabbe's chest and her cloak into Goyle's, 'take these up to my office for me.' 

They turned and stumped away up the marble staircase. 

'Right then,' said Professor McGonagall, looking up at the hour-glasses on the wall. 'Well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?' 

'What?' snapped Snape, though Harry knew he had heard perfectly well, 'Oh – well – I suppose…' He had stopped listening to what she was saying, something about giving Gryffindor points. She had called him Professor, as she had rarely done before. The picture of her laying there in his rooms as she reached for his hand flashed across his mind but he quickly diffused it. 

Potter and Malfoy had disappeared and McGonagall too had issued her farewell, turning to go when he caught her arm, "Minerva your limp, please." 

She stood frozen, a look of alarm across her face. His firm grip held her by the elbow and her breath caught seeing the genuine distress penetrating his eyes. 

He released her then, trying to regain composure but still appeared disarmed. He faltered under her stare. "That is – I could – may I offer my arm?" 

He had called her Minerva.. Had she heard him right? Never had he addressed her so in all these many years. It sounded so delicate escaping from his stern lips. "Severus.." she began but he stopped her. 

"Yes, you've a cane, forgive me, I didn't notice." But they both knew he had. "I will leave you now – " 

It was her tern to interrupt. "Perhaps if you walked with me.. I am in need of some company after my time away." Her voice was soft and kind, so unlike her usual tartness that he wasn't sure if she had noticed the way he had looked at her. It sounded almost like pity. But her eyes were expectant and unsure and he nodded his consent. 

They walked the length of the way in silence, staring ahead or at passing students. Her door swung open as they reached it and inside had been placed her bag and cloak. They stood facing each other for a time, unsure what to say next. She opened her mouth to bid him goodnight but his hand had grasped hers earnestly. He moved an inch closer, lowering his head and kissed the top of her hand. She breathed, absorbed in the softness of their skin pressing together. He held it a moment longer, eyes narrowed in concentration as he studied her own. She wanted to speak but he had turned, his robes brushing against her outstretched hand, and he was gone. With all her effort she moved into her room and closed the door, unable to comprehend what had happened. 

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At dinner that night McGonagall tried in vain to catch Snape's eye. He sat unusually far from her remaining uncharacteristically engaged in conversation most of the meal. Nor did she manage to catch him as he left, again in some sort of hurry. She stared coldly at the door through which he had just passed as Hagrid came up beside her. 

"Yer alright, professor? You look a bit, ah distracted, er – " 

"It's nothing sleep will not cure, Hagrid. Thank you." McGonagall walked briskly out of the great hall, leaving a slightly confused Hagrid squinting after her. 

She moved as quickly as her limp would allow. Somehow she knew where he would be and upon reaching the potions master's storage room, rapped furiously at the door. 

It swung open with alarming swiftness revealing behind it a ferocious looking Professor Snape. He glowered down at her. 

"I – " her words held to the roof of her mouth. 

His snarl, if possible, became even more severe as she tried to regain confidence. "Professor, I have limited time, if you please." His voice was not kind. 

At this her jaw locked. "You have enough time, I think." She retorted. "I wish to speak with you of this afternoon's events, as I gather you are aware – " 

"I am, in fact, not aware." he hissed, "Nor do I feel it necessary to speak of idle passings." He was in a foul mood. His emotions had betrayed him earlier. That kiss! What had he been thinking? In a moment he had shattered the safety that existed in their fragile relationship. He could not let her find out. She could never feel the same. Could never understand the urge that filled him just by standing there before him. 

"Now once more, if you please!" he made to slam the door but she was too quick for him and slipped inside as it slammed behind her. He whirled and grabbed her hard by the shoulders. Bottles clinked as her back was pushed into the shelf. She felt cool drops across her ankle as a vile fell and shattered by their feet. 

"Severus, please!" She said reproachfully, "This is no way to behave! We are two grown – " 

"We are." He growled and dug his fingers tighter into her loose skin. "Therefore I anticipated my wishes to be respected." His voice grew darker with each syllable. "You are not my teacher, Minerva." He strained to contain his impulses. "We are equals here." 

She met his eyes, closer than they had ever been. His face screamed of pain, hidden somewhere, too deep for her to see. Hidden somewhere in his grip. She spoke as calmly as she could through her gritted teeth, "You are a remarkable man. Not at all the belligerent boy who I used to see storming through these halls. Though as ever bitter and proud and rarely anything more than cold. But you and I, indeed, have become equals in our chosen profession as well as our understanding of the world. And as such," She paused, narrowing her eyes just slightly, "You should have no trouble releasing me, nor of entering into a civilized manner of discourse with a fellow teacher." She stared defiantly at him. 

His mind and body had separated. He should release her, should step out of this room without a word. Should be as cold and proud as she had described him. But he had moved closer, and his hold of her had become more forceful. He saw fear flash across her eyes but she held her ground and did not resist. 

She almost didn't hear him. His breath was hot on her neck and his body.. it was so close. She struggled to understand what was happening. Her knees were growing weak as he neared her and when he spoke his voice was low and rough beside her ear, his cheek brushing against hers. 

"Trouble… ah, Minerva, that is the trouble." 

With that he thrust her from him towards the door, which opened. Gathering her pride she walked passed him, his face was murder, and once in the hall she turned back to see him. He was gazing down, calm, almost serene, delicately flicking his wand to repair the shards of glass that lay on the floor. It was as if she had never been there. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: see previous 

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It had been months since the incident. It was summer, every day another murder appeared in the Daily Prophet, but she could think of nothing but that meeting. Over and over she played it in her mind trying to pick apart each sentence. 

You are not my teacher, Minerva...well she had been a tad authoritative, but that didn't seem to fit. She had been his teacher once. Perhaps he wished to remove himself from that time in their relationship. But she couldn't think of why it had seemed so important. As colleagues she had shown nothing but respect. 

She shook her head Trouble…Trouble…that is the trouble. But what was the trouble? She had asked him to release her and she had asked him to speak kindly. His response had been gibberish. All she could think was that he had been following his own train of thought when he produced those words. 

Of course, there was something else she could think. She kept it pressed deep out of the logical reasonings of her mind, close to the feel of his smooth cheek. You should have no trouble releasing me… Ah Minerva, that is the trouble… It was a silly notion. He was but half her age and yet, he himself had called them equals. But she would not think of it, he did not mean it in such a way. It was the silly notion of a lonely old woman. 

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The start of this school year had brought them together once more. Neither had spoken directly to the other or met eye for eye even by chance. McGonagall was careful to keep her distance and Snape never so much as hinted at anything that had passed between them. But then there were times when she watched him moving along the corridor below her and like a schoolgirl she wanted to shout 'Hello!' But he was gone before her eyes even began to mist over. 

There was a day at last when she was called into to Dumbledore's office. She had entered hopefully cheerful, knowing that he alone would lighten her heart as his own brought joy in everything it touched. 

He smiled when she entered, "Sherbet lemon?" 

"Pardon?" 

"A muggle's treat I am rather fond of." He offered her a box. 

She shook her head, "I am well aware. None, thank you." 

"Very well then, down to business. I've just had the most interesting conversation with Professor Snape and I wondered if you could enlighten me on a few matters." 

Her heart sank, she had wanted anything but to discuss Severus. Dumbledore regarded her a moment then continued. "Of course, it is nothing serious, but it has left me somewhat concerned. May I inquire as to your health, Minerva?" 

"My health?" She was a tad confused. "I had a sore throat yesterday, but nothing more. Why do you ask?" 

"Hm? Oh, just good manners. My mother taught me. Well, I am glad to hear it and will certainly pass along the good news." 

Her puzzlement continued. "I'm sorry?" 

"Do sit Minerva." He waved his hand beckoning. "I was thinking we ought to have another ball. Perhaps we could manage to lighten moral. Nothing improves moral like dancing. Would you like that?" 

"I – well, yes, I suppose. I did enjoy the Yule Ball last year." She sat down slowly and tried to think of where this conversation was going. "Albus, did you not say you had something to say?" 

"Yes, of course, I am just coming upon it. You see, I did not invent this little idea of a ball. It was in fact suggested to me this afternoon by Professor Snape. I suppose had it come from Sybill or Hagrid I would have thought nothing of it. He of course has his reasons…" His monologue paused as he dwelled on this, McGonagall waiting patiently. Dumbledore had a funny way about bringing around a point in any conversation. 

"In any fashion, I asked him what could have spurred this thought. He responded most dispassionately that there were those 'especially' fond of dancing that he believed could do with a little 'cheering up.' Once again, my dear, anyone else would not have prompted my curiosity so. I then asked if he spoke in general or if perchance he had someone in mind. Oh he is very good and at first avoided my inquiry but at last I managed and do you know what he said to me?" His eyes were glittering behind a poorly hid smile. "He said he spoke of 'Professor McGonagall, among others'." 

McGonagall squirmed in her seat, half in anticipation of his next words and half fighting the urge to run. Dumbledore continued. "I was shocked. My Minerva? Surely any unhappiness had gone unnoticed by me. I directed him to tell me the reasons for his belief. I was naturally concerned and again reluctantly he answered in the oddest fashion. He said, quite simply, that your colors had darkened." 

Dumbledore stopped here to study the look on McGonagall's face, at once understanding the forced calm in her cheeks and the anxiousness that had risen in her eyes. He continued more delicately then. "He claimed, and these are his words, that the greens you wear, that you have always worn, were now darker. That you have replaced your emerald robes for those so faintly resembling green that they appear closer to black. And seeing you here now, I must agree with his suspicions." His eyes by now were narrowed in concern. "Is there something that has been troubling you, Professor?" 

The tension was high, they both felt it. Dumbledore had stumbled upon something that hit too close to home. Slowly and unconsciously she had been wearing darker robes, and she was well aware of the reason. But to think that Snape would be the one to notice. Was it that obvious? Did he somehow know her reasons? She shuddered at this thought. 

"I will not pressure you as to why this change has occurred," Dumbledore said softly, "though pieces have been forming hazily in my mind. But perhaps – perhaps if I can be of no use in this matter, another could…" 

She didn't want to hear him say it. Standing up she thanked him and tried to explain that green was out of fashion for a woman of her age but she knew he wasn't fooled and as she stepped outside he finished his thought, "I have rarely seen Severus show such concern for a person, Minerva. Perhaps he would be the one most likely to understand." And with that she slipped out. 

... 

... 

... 

Not even knowing herself where she was headed she banged hard on the door and was almost surprised to see Professor Snape standing behind it with his eyebrows cocked. "Professor," he said in monotone. "Is there something wrong?" 

There was no concern about him as he stood in the threshold. Silence followed. 

"Might I come in?" 

His expression seemed to mock her as he stepped aside. Hesitating she limped inside as he shut the door carefully behind her. She slumped into a chair and waved her wand exasperated. "I need a drink." A glass appeared before her and she took it eagerly. 

"Yes, thank you." was Snape's sarcastic reply as he made appear another glass for himself. 

She stopped drinking and watched him take a sip, realizing just how absurd she was acting. She set her cup aside and glared at him. He was so calm, so expressionless. What had she been expecting? He lifted his chin questioningly. 

"I believe you owe me an explanation." She began. When he said nothing she continued but looked away. "I am referring, of course, to our.. meeting.. last spring. Your actions were most peculiar and I have gone over it several times but still have not found a plausible reason for them. I have gone too long without an answer and I had hoped that you would now enlighten me as to their meaning." 

She looked at him now, his expression had changed. Not significantly, no, but she had noticed. His stern features which usually showed every sign of anger now resembled something else. She could not quite define it. There was a look of regret in his unpleasant expression and as she studied him, the meaning suddenly seemed all together too clear. 

"Severus?" her voice shook with the same uncertainty that had called him to her side that night she lay in this same room. He stood abruptly and she followed suit. 

"It is best you leave." He frowned. But neither moved. She had seen it. Be damned if he hadn't given himself away again. 

"Severus, can I – I must ask…" She faltered at his snarl, but then became angry, raising her voice. "Oh honestly! Can we not have a simple conversation without you treating me in such a manner? I dare say I've earned it, putting up with your moods all these years." 

Her words had been a bit harsher than she liked but his face lost its anger. "There is nothing to discuss here, Professor." 

"There are many things to discuss here, Professor." The emphasis on the word did not escape him and they glared across the room. But their staring contest did not last long as McGonagall threw her hands up with a huff and started towards the door. She, however, did not miss the slight movement he made as she did so and whirled on him. "You see there! You do not want me to leave! I don't know what to make of you. What do you want of me?" 

Her voice was sharp and exasperated. He could feet it draining the power from him. He was defeated. He sat again at the end of the couch, leaning his forehead against his palm and staring absently at a portrait on the wall. She sat abruptly beside him and held his other hand with her own. 

It was her anger, however, that had made her bold and now she jerked away, embarrassed. But Snape reacted as well. He clenched down tight with his own keeping her from moving. She struggled slightly under his crushing fingers and he brought forth his other hand, wrapping it around the two he already held. The action positioning them face-to-face. 

"Minerva," he whispered. She looked up trembling, her heart beginning to race as she once again caught sight of that look in his eyes. She stopped struggling and he placed her hand to his cheek, squeezing his eyes shut, silently holding her there to him. 

Her hand began to move of its own accord, gently feeling the ridges of his face, so much warmer compared to his hands. Then he kissed her palm, her thumb, her wrist, more urgently with every parting. 

She could think of nothing to say except, "Severus – " 

"Please," he muttered, eyes held shut. "It will pass." He stopped but her hand remained. 

"I – I don't understand." She said, but she did understand, all too well. She was frightened of what he would say. 

His eyes opened slowly and he placed her hand back to his lap where they had rested, hopelessly shaking his head. "You are too kind." 

"I'm not." She said. 

She wanted to be closer, she wanted to be touching. She remembered every touch that had passed between them and felt the need of him swelling inside her. It was she who took his hand then, slowly clutching it against her chest, and his face turned to surprise. "I do not need you're pity." He sighed. 

"Pity me then." She said, holding his hand even tighter. 

He regarded her skeptically, unsure of her words, "I don't understand." 

"You do." She breathed. She was leaning in, so close he could hear as well as feel the fast pulsing that shot through his arm. He knew that feeling. It was want. Desperate want. It had crept into him from the first time they spoke, had taken him years to understand, and in these last years it had grown so strong he had shied way from it. And now to see it in her face, to feel it rush through him made his thoughts soften, bending back the wall he had placed around his heart. But it was a mistake, he thought, and in a moment she would jerk away from him in horror. But she did not. She instead seemed to move closer. 

In a now or never blink he took her waist and pulled her to him desperately. Only the tiniest sound of shock escaped her as she felt his hot breath. But he only held her, breathing against each other's chests. 

Her body would not listen to her commands to kiss him. But why did he not persist? She wanted this, why did he hesitate? 

"I – I am not a gentle man." His voice forced through his breathing. 

She pulled herself closer still, but grew serious. "I am not a young woman." 

He shook his head. "There is no one to expect but me." 

She ached for him and she slowly raised her hand to brush the hair from his eyes. "I have no false hopes, Severus." 

It was his name that did it. His name on her tongue that closed the gap between them. He had meant it to be gentle. To be a gentleman. He meant to brush her lips with his own, taking his time, parting them slowly so that he would be sure of her. Sure of the way her tongue tasted. Sure of their wet warmth. Sure that she wanted what he had always wanted. What he needed. 

Instead his lips met hers with urgency and her response was anything but gentle. They groped for each other and she felt herself being pushed back against the arm of the couch. He loomed over her, running his hands down her sides and kissing her neck. She shivered underneath him as his fingers brushed the underside of her breasts. He pushed himself upon her and felt their bodies collide. Every inch of her soft feminine form pressed against him. His knee fell between her legs, slowly rubbing their thighs together. Eagerness rose within him and he conquered her mouth once more. 

She tore at her robes. They covered every part of her, she wanted to feel him. His skin against hers. She had need this for far too long. Longer than she would ever admit. The fabric slipped from one shoulder and Snape forced her to a stop. He stared down at her – white skin against the dark green of the robe, trying to comprehend what was happening. How they had gotten here. There was no explanation, no hope of understanding. Her eyes held him in a daze. He was so unsure. Those eyes spoke of something he had only read about in stories. He never believed someone could care for him. No one ever had. No one had ever looked at him in such a way. 

He ran a hand over the exposed skin savoring the feel of it and she arched her back at his touch. "Please" she said, her voice torn, and all other thoughts vanished as he felt her need meet his own, pressing his body against hers once more, their lips meeting with greed. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: see previous

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She found him in the morning sitting in front of the fire, deep in thought. He did not stir when she entered. She had darned her robes once more but her hair hung loose across her shoulder. She cringed at the thought of the last time he had seen her thus.

"There's something wrong." She said. She meant it as a question but it came out more as a point of fact.

"No." He answered. That voice was familiar to her. Cold and distant. He was himself again as he hadn't been the night before. She immediately began to regret what had happened. It had been foolish of her to believe.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, but it was curt and polite.

"Yes, yes of course." She muttered looking around for her shoes.

"Come here." He said quietly. She stopped searching and, unsteady, made her way to him.

"Sit." He said, his voice had not changed. She sat beside him, careful not to touch. He reached to his side and handed her a glass.

"What's this?" She asked.

"Gillywater." He answered dully. "Your preferred drink, I thought."

She regarded him curiously. "It is, thank you." and sipped gingerly.

He continued, "I have an early morning class, as you do yourself if I'm not mistaken, but it will be wiser to leave separately. Therefore I intend to get an early start on checking my supplies giving you ample time to ready yourself."

"Severus?" she said, lowering her glass.

He turned towards her at last. "Yes, my dear?"

She paused. There was nothing unusual in his tone or manner. Not even his face revealed anything to her but the stern Professor Snape she had always known. But then again, what had he said? 'My dear'? It was all very perplexing.

"You have little time before my halls are swarming with students so might I suggest that you waste no time in dawdling? I have no intention of letting this chance meeting escape into teenage ears so easily." He said standing. "Nor so soon." He added.

McGonagall stood and let him take her cup. "I will leave you now." He said, making his way towards the door and she remembered him saying it before.. last year after she'd returned.

"Does this mean – " she began but couldn't finished. Perhaps she had misread his distress the night before.

He stopped and regarded her crossly. And then a gnarled grin spread across his lips making her even uneasier. With pained dryness he said, "Yes, I've forgot. One does these things." He strode over to her and stood unnecessarily close, looking cruelly amused at her down turned eyes. "You look beautiful this morning." He said softly.

Her face shot up. He placed a hand on her lower back, drawing her closer and gently kissed her lips. Then he returned to the door, without another word, shutting it behind him.

... 

... 

... 

That morning at breakfast in the Great Hall Snape sat in his usual seat beside Dumbledore and listened quietly to the light-hearted conversation of the old teacher. Dumbledore was quite amused with himself, joking with the professors and commenting on the food. So delighted was he that he turned and addressed Snape in a laughing matter, mentioning that should there be another ball he would invite more schools in order for there to be a larger selection of dance partners that Snape could turn down.

What Dumbledore didn't expect was that in response, Snape's usual sneer looked as though he were genuinely smiling, if a little restrained.

Dumbledore was taken aback. "Why, Severus, I cannot recall the last time I saw you in such a delightful mood. When there was no punishment involved, of course. It is rather refreshing."

"There is no idiotic merriment surrounding me, Headmaster." Snape responded languidly, his smile gone. "However, there are moments when I find myself amused." Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow but Snape had turned slightly to see a rather nervous looking Professor McGonagall entering the hall, before returning to his food. Though his face betrayed no emotion, he could not deny it to himself. He was idiotically merry.

He loved her. He could not help himself. And this feeling fueled his arrogant, cruel manner. He deducted points from Gryffindor knowing that she would come to quarrel about it and gave detentions to her best Quidditch players. He loved to see her angry, and inside he would boil while his face remained calm and malicious. But there was no unnecessary touching. No intimacy when they were not securely behind locked doors. No one could surpass him in occlumency, it was his gift, and in this way his emotions were never betrayed. Months went by like this.

But there were some nights, when he crept through the halls, returning unharmed at least, from the Dark Lord that he would pass her in the corridors on watch. His heart would leap at the sight of her once more. Another night he had succeeded in not losing her to this war. But as he passed she would only look up and nod in greeting before moving on. It was in those dark morning hours after his return that he felt the twinges of doubt. He did not expect any sign of compassion from her, but only… in those moments when there was no other soul, and his heart yearned for her, she did not even look grateful to see him alive. It was those nights that blackened his grey heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: see previous 

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Breakfast, lunch, dinner, a few Quidditch games, teachers meetings.. that was when she saw him, a sour expression for every syllable uttered. His manner never betraying him. Not even to her.

Occasionally, when they were alone, he would hold her. He would smile and touch her heart with his kind words as they spoke of their days. Her head resting on his chest and his icy fingers play with her hands.

They would meet by chance in the hall and he would tip his head slightly murmuring his usual, "Professor," in that arrogant way. At times she would complain of a head ache and they would find themselves in his storage room, pressed against the wall, every inch of them touching. She could feel then what was so thoroughly concealed behind his public exterior. There was something she hoped might be love in the tight grip of his arms.

And on some nights they gave in to their primitive instincts. She loved those moments when she awoke still in his arms and he allowed her to roll over to face him, holding her closer though such things, she knew, were too intimate for his liking.

He had not lied. He was not a gentle man. Rarely kind and nearly always distant. But she had not lied herself. She was not a young girl filled with romantic notions of love. They bickered and fought in and out of public over the affairs of Hogwarts, as they had always done. They had two relationships then; the strictness of their characters in the public light, and the other, which lingered in the dark, unseen.

They were separated in her mind. So much so that she did not complain that he was now sent away more often than not. Nor did she pretend to rely on his return. And it was that separation that made her strong. That kept her heart in check when she started to need more of him than he could give. But it was that separation which caused the argument. Their only true argument.

She had been lecturing when he stormed in, fuming and commanding, "Minerva, we must speak. Now."

"Professor Sn – "

"Now!" he bellowed, flying out again.

Angrily she followed him out the door, excusing herself from the class and threatening to take fifty points from anyone not doing what she asked when she returned.

"Are you out of your mind?" she shouted once in the hall.

"Not here." He snarled. "They can hear."

"Oh yes, they can hear! And they heard the way you addressed me, Severus!" She did not lower her voice, and he grabbed her wrist puling her into her office.

"You're making a scene." He said calmly, shutting the door.

"I?" She exclaimed. "I make a scene? Just what has gotten into you, Severus?

"I – " he began but stopped abruptly. She glared at him, hands on her hips and a fowl expression across her face. He grabbed her waist and thrust her to him, speaking through gritted teeth. "You are deadly when you're angry." He kissed her feverishly, hard and automatic. A moan escaped her and she trembled under his roaming hands. His lips moved down her neck.

"Tell me you want me." He commanded, pushing her onto the desk. She nodded unthinking as his hands slipped beneath her robes climbing up her thighs. He pressed himself to her and her legs circled around him. "Tell me." He barked.

"I want you" she whimpered, pulling his face to kiss her but he resisted. His hands were cold and teasing on those sensitive areas he knew so well. She gasped and threw her head back.

"Tell me you need me." His want echoed in these words.

She was unable to think, could hardly breath, the things he was doing. "I do, I do, I – oh god, Severus, I need you! Please.." The last words were almost shouted and at the sound of them Snape took hold of her waist and thrust himself into her quaking body.

Afterwards she ached, aware of every bruise and inch of flesh that had been rubbed raw. She remembered that feeling always. Associating it with what came next.

"I have just come from the Dark Lord, he is growing restless." His words came slowly, cautious. "He has set a task for me…a very difficult one."

She nodded, straightening her robes and turning to the mirror beside her to fix her hair. His heart blackened at the sight of her.

"You are a liar, Minerva." He said steadily. There was no sign of anger, only the twinge of dejection as he buttoned his coat.

She had forgotten that they had quarreled and so it took her a minute to comprehend his words as she re-fastened her hair. "Why?" she asked. "What have I said?"

He turned to her now, and that twinge had taken control of his features. "You do not need me, nor care for me so much as you say. I was a fool to believe such a thing in the first place. Imagine," his words were detached irony, "such a good, noble hearted Gryffindor, caring for the likes of me; a Death Eater by choice."

"You act for Dumbledore, I know this. You choose to do good."

"Now, perhaps, but once… But 'once' was a very long time ago," he said softly. "And it is of now, I speak." His eyes flashed. "You needn't expect me to come to your door from here on, and you have no reason to enter mine. My work, though it seems so little to you, is too important for any mistakes. Therefore let us end this stupidity. It should never have begun. As it stands I do not expect any sympathy from you – "

"And you will get none!" She declared harshly. "How dare you use me in such a fashion and then tell me this – this filth! I am well aware of the consciences to be faced should you be discovered, you're role is – "

"My role!" He was angry now. "Yes, my role is very valuable to you, isn't it? The information I carry is essential to the Order."

"You know it is." She said exasperatingly.

He sneered at her. "It is good of you to over look the verity that with every parting of this hallowed ground, I dare say every parting from you, as I make my way to _Him_, I must think, 'tonight, I will die.' I must prepare myself for it. And my death will have been for you. You who care nothing for me."

"No, Severus, my darling.." She reached for him but he moved away.

"Darling, Ha!"

"I don't understand what I've done.. what I've done wrong. I thought you wanted.. Please, I cannot think of what I would do were you to fall.." She grasped for words. "My heart – "

"Do not force your heart, Minerva, where it will not go. You and I have shared moments. Brief moments. But it is not moments I want. No… I have had enough." He said sternly. She had begun to cry. Her head was down turned, shaking back and forth in denial. "I would kiss you, my sweet, my beloved pet, but you have laughed enough at my expense."

"I never laughed at you, you stupid fool." She was savage as she glared at him, like a caged animal; one wrong move and it would strike to kill.

Snape stood straighter now, bringing every ounce of pride with him, "Then laugh now, Minerva, your heart is stronger than stone."

Her wand shot through the air too quick for any defense. A searing yellow light shot from it knocking Snape into the door behind him and through it as it splintered and broke from the force. He lay covered in rubble in the hallway a few students looking on in horror as McGonagall stepped lightly over the pieces past him and returned to her classroom.

Her ears were still ringing with his words as the last pupil left for the afternoon. _You who care nothing for me._ How could he think such a thing? It had been he who had set the rules. He who was always so distant and fierce. She had followed his lead. It was what he wanted… she thought it was what he wanted. And now today he was suddenly furious? Furious over the heart of stone she had made for him. The bastard. He deserved nothing. She had been foolish to believe that Snape could care for anyone but himself. Foolish to believe that he could love her.

She turned the pages of a book and tears streamed across the words. When Professor Dumbledore found her he rushed to her in concern but she glared at him through her tears. "Don't!" She shouted and turning into her feline form, ran and jumped out of the window.

... 

... 

... 

Dumbledore was the next to see Snape. They sat in his office the following day in silence. Dumbledore clasped his hands over his stomach, smoothing out his beard.

"Come now, Severus," he said. "I must have an explanation. I would ask Professor McGonagall but whenever I try she begins to shout and drive me away. I must say I am not accustomed to this treatment from such an old friend. So I come to you, as you are a reasonable man. Explain yourself."

Snape scowled at him. "The professor and I disagree on certain subjects. I expressed my element and she answered with a blast to the chest. These things do happen."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore mused. "But not from our Minerva, not over small matters. She has been a teacher too long to allow her emotions to guide her. There must be more to it."

Snape was silent, his eyes full of loathing as Dumbledore peered into them. Then he chuckled, "Legimens, Headmaster? Are you so concerned?"

"Severus, three people have come to me saying they found Minerva in a state worse than grief and I myself have seen violence in her eyes upon every meeting. I consider it of grave importance, there is a war on. I fear.." He shook his head with a sigh. "I fear she will not survive as she is."

Snape stiffened and the action caught Dumbledore's attention. His old eyes widened as he played with his beard, picking out crumbs. Then he cast a very peculiar look at Snape, "Severus," he said kindly, "I don't suppose it would be rude of me to ask whether or not you are aware of Minerva's feelings for you?"

"I – I beg your pardon?" Snape's body was rigid and motionless in his fear. but his face betrayed him

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I thought as much. Then there is nothing left for me to assume but that she has at long last spoken to you and you have disappointed her with your own feelings, in which case this is a rather sticky predicament."

"_I_ have disappointed?" Snape sneered.

"Well naturally these feelings are not mutual, Severus. Of course, I do no blame you, no.." Dumbledore stood and began to pace the room. "But we must find a way to rectify this delicate situation."

"She is intolerable."

"She is a woman, Severus. One who has loved you these past however many years, she cannot be expected to take your obvious rejection so gently."

Snape stood to face him. "It is nothing but a girlish fancy, and therefore will pass quickly enough."

Dumbledore stopped pacing and peering at the man over his spectacles, he could feel the sting in Snape's words and suddenly understood them. Slowly he began to speak, "You, above all others, Severus, know the difficulty of closing your mind and heart in order to protect, not only others but yourself as well. Minerva does not love lightly. I tell you this now, so that you may understand better, the woman of whom we speak." Dumbledore moved closer to Snape and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She learned from experience, as you did, to shield her heart… learned too well, the both of you."

Snape backed away defiantly. "The work I do, I do for you. For the boy."

"I do not tell you to hide your heart. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is – "

"Love, yes. So you have said."

Dumbledore grew serious, "Severus, do no let your pride keep you from happiness. There is so little time left."

"I am aware." He snapped. "And this _agitation_ will only complicate matters. I will administer your death and in doing so save the boy. Afterwards I will leave here. I will not divert from your plan."

They were silent, staring at each other from across the room. "Very well, Severus, I will not interfere. But hear just this before you go," he voice had the hint of pleading as he spoke. "Tell her you love her, for god's sake, she has been waiting so long to hear it."

Snape was stunned. His eyes widened as he groped for words of denial but none came. "If there is nothing else.." He said finally.

Dumbledore sighed. "No, there is nothing else."

And with that, Snape made his way unskillfully towards the door, fumbling with the knob, and left.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: see previous 

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The walls were shaking now. Where was Snape? Every inch of her skin crawled as she ran downwards, cursing him the while for isolating himself so in that damn dungeon. Especially now when they needed him. Spells were blasted by her head and she toppled over as a hand gripped her arm, yanking her to her feet. She stared relieved into Snape's dark eyes.

"Where is Dumbledore?" He demanded.

"He's gone, we cannot find him. But there is no time, the dark mark has already been cast." She made to follow the others down the corridor but he held her still. Her eyes were wide in confused fear, it had been a long time since he had looked at her in such a way with those piercing eyes. A long time since her body had responded to them. But now was not the time. "Severus, we must go!"

"Minerva," he said quickly, "I told you once that a task had been given to me. One that would be difficult, even for me."

"Yes, Severus, I remember, but – "

"No, you must listen to me now. There may not be another chance." He had clasped her shoulders, eyes narrowed in urgency as he held her. "No matter what happens," he said. "You are safe here."

"I don't – "

"Minerva! Please, listen!" he pressed his forehead to hers, their lips almost touching, and his eyes seemed lost in a suffering few could know. "You are safe behind these stones. I will make it so."

Bewildered she nodded her head and he held her only a second longer, then ran ahead without another word.

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**"Snape," repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. "We all wondered … but he trusted … always … Snape … I can't believe it …"**

Her head was swimming. It was too much for one night. Too much at all. While the others talked she tried to think. What had he said to her? He had held her in such a way. She had almost thought… but then what had he done?

**"This is all my fault," said Professor McGonagall suddenly. She looked disorientated, twisting her wet handkerchief in her hands." My fault. I sent Filius to fetch Snape tonight. I actually sent for him to come and help us! if I hadn't alerted Snape to what was going on, he might never have joined forces with the Death Eaters. I don't think he knew they were there before Filius told him, I don't think he knew they were coming."**

**"It isn't your fault, Minerva," said Lupin Firmly. "We all wanted more help, we were glad to think Snape was on his way …"**

**"So when he arrived at the fight, he joined in on the Death Eaters' side?" asked Harry, who wanted every detail of Snape's duplicity and infamy, feverishly collecting more reasons to hate him, to swear vengeance.**

**"I don't know exactly how it happened," said Professor McGonagall distractedly. It's all so confusing …"**

Her heart was breaking, she could feel it bashing against her lungs, constricting the air that passed through them. It was the second time that loathsome man had made her feel this way. The second time she had trusted him with everything and he had betrayed her. And now he had done the unthinkable.

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Snape stood in his office. No, not his own office, but that of the Headmasters. A painful reminder of the deed he had done the year before. He was pacing, it seemed to be the result of the position, though he doubted any other had to deal with what he now was dealing with. His fist hit the cobblestones rattling the pictures **as Philneas Nigellus came hurrying into the portrait.**

**'Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood – "**

**"Do not use that word!"**

**" – the Granger Girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!"**

**"Good. Very good!" Cried the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmaster's chair. "Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor – and he must not know that you give it! if Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him – " **

**"I know," said Snape curtly. He approached the portrait of Dumbledore and pulled at its side. It swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took the sword of Gryffindor.**

**"And you still aren't going to tell me why it's so important to give Potter the sword?" said Snape as he swung a traveling cloak over his robes.**

**"No, I don't think so," said Dumbledore's portrait. "He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap – " **

**Snape turned at the door.**

**"Don't worry, Dumbledore," he said coolly. "I have a plan…"**

**And Snape left the room.**

As he left the office he paid little attention to his surroundings as he moved. It was when he returned that he saw her, a little grey tabby stiffly perched on a windowsill, as if she had been there for hours. She didn't move when she saw him, not even a blink. His first instinct was to go to her and two steps fell in her direction before he stopped. She looked at him now, the hairs beginning to rise on the back of her neck and he changed direction mid-step. There was nothing he could tell her she would believe.

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McGonagall stepped gingerly along the cold stones on feline claws. She spent many nights this way. Too tired to sleep but not her night to patrol the corridors. She would wander unseen, dwelling on memories she knew to be a waste of time. They forced their way into her thoughts and dug at her peace of mind. Most often she would find herself drawn to the Headmaster's door and lay hidden in a darkened corner, tears glistening in her wide, yellow eyes.

She wanted to believe that it was Dumbledore alone that made her revere this spot, that the loss of a dear friend and everything that he once stood for made her yearn to stare at the door through which she had seen him come and go for so many, many years. But she knew that was not all. Somewhere within the depths of her she knew there were two men that called to her from this office, and she hated herself for it. How could she love both men after what one had done? She was weak.

Before… before it happened she had convinced herself that there was no more in her left to feel for Snape. They had ended the affair as abruptly as it had begun and both had moved on. Herself out of necessity. But after Dumbledore's death, when grief had overcome her, she realized she had never loved anyone more. Nor probably ever would. She walked the castle in love with a murderer, and so the memory of both held her captive.

The halls were empty but for the wind as she glanced about her, and she rose on all fours, convincing herself that she needed sleep. Heavy footsteps rounded the corner and she froze as she saw Snape's boots. He was speaking low to Amycus, growing angry as they moved. He waved him off irritably at the door and stood resting his back to it. His head fell back, eyes closed as he cursed in muffled whispers.

He looked helpless standing there, fists clenched. He often looked this way at night when he thought himself alone. She had seen him nearly every night, roaming the corridors just as she. Those dark eyes so close to tears that everything else seemed to escape from her mind. And this was the reason for all the doubts that clouded her thoughts. When she saw him thus, in such a state, all his actions were contradicted. His face and his feelings and his eyes all matched hers. They were the same suffering. The same regret. It was this image of him that kept her up at night.

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**"I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva." **

**"You have some objection?"**

**"I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?"**

**"I thought I heard a disturbance," said professor McGonagall.**

**"Really? But all seems calm."**

**Snape looked into her eyes.**He needed her to understand.

**"Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have I must insist – "**

**Professor McGonagall moved faster than Harry could have believed; Her wand slashed through the air and for a split second Harry thought that Snape must crumple, unconscious, but the swiftness of his Shield Charm was such that McGonagall was thrown off balance. She brandished her wand at a torch on the wall and it flew out of its bracket: Harry, about to curse Snape was forced to pull Luna out of the way of the descending flames, which became a ring of fire that filled the corridor and flew like a lasso at Snape – **

**Then it was no longer fire, but a great black serpent that McGonagall blasted to smoke, which re-formed and solidified in seconds to become a swarm of pursuing daggers: Snape avoided them only by forcing the suit of armor in front of hi, and with echoing clangs the daggers sank, one after another, into its breast – **

And then Flitwick was here and Sprout, fighting, and she was running after Snape and she was shouting, **"Coward! COWARD!"**

She was fuming. She had made up her mind once and for all. No matter who she thought Snape was, he was on the wrong side, and he had chosen it. She would not let her foolish notions of love get in the way anymore. She gave orders to wake the houses, leaving Harry and Luna, and went to fetch her own. She rounded the top of the stairs and crashed into an invisible wall throwing her back. After a moments bewilderment she pointed her wand and tried to blast through it but it remained there, blocking her path. And then she heard a voice.

"You who stand before me, if your name be Minerva McGonagall, answer now."

She looked around hesitantly and in a clear voice responded, "I am Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House."

She at once regretted her words as the barrier came into view and surrounded her quickly on all sides. Again she fired blasts, everything she could think of, throwing herself into it, but she remained trapped.

"Minerva."

A voice behind her spoke and she whirled on him, "Stupify!"

But the spell went right through him. She stood face to face with a hologram of Severus Snape.

"Minerva, I have a message."

She noted that the hologram required her to speak before it could continue. More on her guard and angrier than ever she spoke again. "Tell me then, you monster."

He was unmoved, a recording only. She wondered briefly how long it had been waiting for her. "We cannot be seen here, Minerva, nor heard, the barrier makes it so." She winced at the sound of her name. His words were rushed. "You must help Potter continue, he has little time left." She looked up. "There is one last task that Dumbledore assigned me, I must fulfill it before I can join you. Minerva, you must be careful. I can no longer protect you as I have done."

She didn't understand. Wand still raised she tried to make sense of his words. He was on their side? How could that be possible?

"If I succeed, Potter will have something for you. Something to explain everything in case… in case I cannot. You must go, but I must tell you… a hundred times I started to tell you. I love you. Minerva, are you listening? I love you. I cannot recall a time when I have felt differently. Everything I did, I did for you. Without you this world would not be worth saving. Remember that, my darling. For all my faults, I love you." His voice broke. "Now go. The barrier will lift when I am gone. I will find you when this is over, I promise. I will see you again, my dearest, dearest Minerva."

She had reached for him as he said this but she moved only through the air and then he vanished and the barrier was gone. She clenched her teeth and marched towards the Gryffindor common room with a renewed strength. She would kill Voldemort herself if she had to. She needed the truth. She needed him.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: see previous 

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Voldemort had fallen before her eyes in the crowded hall. Just one green blast and he was nothing more than a lifeless body at their feet. Everyone stared in wonder at the pathetic lump of flesh that had once made them shiver even to think of.

Then there were shouts and cries from all angles and she replaced the house tables and watched everyone gather to them, jubilant in their triumph, but she could not rest. No one paid any attention as she slipped outside. The sun was just rising and she felt its warmth, but she felt lost. Drawing her wand she cast a Patronus Charm and a silver tabby sprang forth.

"Lead me to him." She ordered, and the cat leapt into the air. McGonagall ran to keep up and, following, saw it vanish into the roots of the Whomping Willow. "Immobulus!" she shouted running closer and the branches stilled as she sped through the opening.

She clawed her way through the tunnel desperately, the only light she could see came from the tabby as it pranced playfully in front of her. And then it sat and waited at the end of the tunnel before hopping through the trap door, leaving McGonagall in pitch black.

Her heart raced faster but fear had caught her movements as she pressed a hand to the trap door. Slowly she lifted it and rose through it. It fell to the floor behind her when she saw him, sprawled on the floor, a mass of black. He was dead, there could be no doubt. She threw herself on top of him, her head resting on his chest, and began to wail, tears soaking his cloak.

Through the sobs she started to beat him, hitting him as hard as she could. "You stupid man! You stupid, stupid man!"

Then her hands found his hair and she kissed his cheek, his brow, his lips; the only part of him that had never been cold, were now like ice. She held his face in her hands, but her strength was not with her, she could not bare this discovery, and collapsed once more and wept, silently now, until she grew too weak for tears, and drifted, just as she was, into sleep.

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Three days later the students who were well enough had been sent home and those who were not had arrived safely at St Mungo's. Those left were the fallen that had been unclaimed and they'd been given a large funeral just that morning. There were too many of them to burry on the grounds and nearly all were waiting to be sent off. But one had been separated from the group. McGonagall watched as the coffin was lowered into it's resting place, side by side where Dumbledore lay.

There had been some argument about this decision. Few thought that Snape was equal to Dumbledore, no matter whose side he finally chose. It had been Harry that had silenced any objection. She recalled his words now as she watched.

"Severus Snape sacrificed himself more than any of us could have dared. He saved my life I can't count how many times. He is the reason we all stand here today – He and Dumbledore. There is no other man more worthy of this honor."

There had been silence then. After Voldemort's defeat, Harry's word seemed to gain more respect. And then that silly girl spoke.

"What about you, Harry?"

"Well, err, Luna, I was actually hoping to live a few more years." And the gathering had chuckled and moved on to other subjects.

Now Harry stood beside her as she pressed her hand to the cold stone lid. "Are you alright, Professor?"

The first sign of tears glistened from her down turned eyes and she nodded. "Yes, Potter. It has finally ended and those who could be saved were. Sever – Professor Snape was star-crossed from the very beginning, you might say even as a boy…" She chuckled. It was odd to think of him as the awkward teenager who had so reluctantly taken her classes. "He knew his fate, there was nothing that could be done."

Harry shuffled his feet. "It was Hermione that found you." He said. "She always catches on before the rest of us.." There was an awkward silence. "She realized where you were soon as I told her about Snape's vile." Her sullenness had affected his nerves and he glanced to where Hermione stood in the corner urging him on. "But there's something left that I can't see."

She looked at him now questioningly. He continued. "I didn't notice it the first time because of my hurry. I tried to see it later but every time I pour it into the Pensieve I see your name and I'm blown out and the memory's back in the vile. "

Harry pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I figured you were the one who's meant to see it."

She held the vile loosely. She had forgotten that part of the message. '_Potter will have something for you_.' "Thank you, dear." She patted his shoulder and walked quietly away, up the steps. Threw her haze she noticed none of the stares as she passed towards the welcoming sun and Dumbledore's office.

Once inside she sat down in the chair opposite the desk, glancing at the walls and trying to find a glimpse of evidence that this room had once belonged to a Slytherin, but it was all as Dumbledore had left it. Snape had not changed a thing. She had seen the memories Snape had given Potter. The reasons for his actions had been set straight. But this memory. This was for her alone. Getting up she took a deep breath, poured the remainder of the vile into the Pensieve and lowered her head.

Just as Potter had said the first thing she saw was her name. Script of her own handwriting in fact, on a piece of parchment. As the scene unfolded a hand had crumpled it before it burst into flames. Snape now stood staring down at the ashes on the floor in his chamber. She glanced around trying to place the time but could not. His rooms had remained the same for years.

Oddly enough his wand brought forth the ashes, returning them to their original state. She hurried closer to peer at the paper and realized it was nothing more than a note addressing the need for the quidditch field as soon as the summer holidays were over. That was all she saw before it flamed and fell as it had before.

A white owl pecked at his hand and he at last looked up. "Pesky bird."

He strode over to his desk and began to write what she assumed to be a response. But he stopped almost as soon as he'd begun and his quill hovered in his hand. He had managed only "Min "

She waited but he did nothing. Only stared at the parchment with narrowed eyes. Beside him was a calendar and she noted the date. It was the summer after her visit to St Mungo's thanks to those stunners. After their meeting in the potions closet…

At long last he cautiously dipped the quill in the ink and hesitantly set it to the paper. The rest of her name seemed to form in slow motion almost as though he were afraid of what he was writing. When the final 'a' leaked out he stopped again. Rigid, pen still held to paper, blotting as he gripped it harder.

She was nearly thrown back when he moved. Pen and paper went flying as he stood and fiercely began to pace the room. "Every time." He muttered bitterly. "Every time I so much as read her name!" He threw his back at the wall clenching his eyes shut and McGonagall nearly ran to him before she remembered it wasn't real.

His lips formed words low and deep, and they came slowly, reciting something she'd never heard. "Day and night taunt the senses of man who sees clarity in but one." She was close now, looking up at his quivering lips. "And yet it is in night that he seeks the console that daybreak most selfishly conceals. It is in the shadows… it is… it is in the shadows.. that love lies." His eyes opened and for a moment they seemed to look into hers. But then they widened and he looked up, grabbing his coat he made for the door as he spoke the end of the poem. "In the shadows and the blood of his bones."

She raced after him down the corridors. He was not walking but running, too fast for her too keep up. He rounded corners and bounded up stairs and then disappeared behind a door. She was out of breath when she found him standing in an empty room but for a mirror in font of him. She came beside him and peered into the glass. As predicted she saw him and herself standing side by side.

She looked at him. His face was in mystified rapture. He lifted his hand and let it brush against the glass and she turned once more to find that his hand rested where her cheek should be. It was then that she realized what mirror this was and at once gasped.

Tears fell to the floor as she followed him back to his room and through them she saw what he wrote at last as a reply to her letter. One simple, arrogant word. "Fine." And the bird flew off.

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It was the start of the term. Only a few months had passed since the battle but everything seemed as calm as it had been before. Which of course was relatively speaking, McGonagall chuckled to herself as she stepped onto the steps of Hogwarts. House elves took her belongings and she began her assent to her new office. The office of the Headmaster.

She had been anxious for this moment all summer. Had been praying for this small favor. Tomorrow the first years would arrive and the Great Hall would be once more filled with food and chatter and life would begin again. But it was this moment that mattered to her most. Cold metal met her hand as she gripped the knob and she thought of his fingers. She breathed heavily as the door swung open and she stepped inside.

Around her the portraits greeted her enthusiastically, welcoming her to the position, Dumbledore among them, but her eyes searched the room until she saw him. His cold black eyes piercing her from his frame. And then he spoke, guarded but full and kind. "Good morning, Minerva."

And she thought her smile might tear her in two as she breathed, "Good morning, Severus."

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fin. 


End file.

Harry Potter, Romance