A Bit of a Dag

A Bit Of A Dag

Disclaimer: Take them home, Ms Rowling.

Minerva McGonagall folded her arms. She looked down at Severus, a haughty expression on her face. Her eyebrows arched and her lips pursed tight. Like a cat's bum sucking on an acid drop, Remus would have said, and Severus smiled at the thought.

"Stop smirking, young man. Do you find this amusing?"

"No, Headmistress," answered Severus. Coughing a little to cover his growing smile, he looked into the fire to avoid the sight of Minerva in a tartan Flora MacDonald outfit. The lace frills round the mob cap and ruched skirts bounced jauntily as the headmistress tapped her foot in frustration.

"If he wasn't already dead, I could kill that diddy Albus for this. Every Hallowe'en it's the same. The castle decorates itself, and the staff's robes transform into fancy dress. I haven't managed to deactivate the Charms, and every year I end up in some tartan monstrosity. It's such a scunner." She turned around, presenting her flounce-clad rump to Snape. "I know I'm no skelf, but does my bahookie look big in this?"

Severus grimaced and shook his head at the vast expanse of layered, tartan skirts. "I have no idea what your bahookie is, Minerva, but I'm sure it looks its normal size."

She plumped down on a seat opposite him. "Ach! Listen to me blethering on, Severus. You didn't come to have me chew your lug about my sartorial problems, did you?"

"Indeed, no."

"What has dragged the recluse away from the esoteric Department of Mysteries?"

Severus frowned, not sure where to start. He took a deep breath and decided to get straight to the point. "I need help."

McGonagall fixed him with her sharp gaze. "Help?"

"I've been working trying to stabilise some of the prophecies which were damaged during the fiasco with the Golden Trio and Potter's prophecy. A corrupted prophecy has been found in the Department of Mysteries, which may relate to me. It mentions an emblazoned wizard, a wolf, a spell of time, and after that the sound quality is severely distorted. We think it may mention a dog... a bitch. Does that mean anything to you, Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth; her jaw worked up and down but no words came out, so Snape continued.

"The problem is my memory is unusually fuzzy, so I thought you could help fill in some gaps. I need information about my last year here at Hogwarts when I received the Blaze and the time just after I left when I stayed in your flat in Edinburgh."

"My flat in Edinburgh?"

"Yes. The one you lent to Remus and me."

"I never had a flat in Edinburgh, Severus."

Snape rubbed his forehead as he tried to remember. "I'm sure Dumbledore said it was your flat."

"No. It belonged to... to..." Minerva's face screwed up with frustration "... her."

"Her?"

"Yes, her."

"That's what I need help with. I can't remember, and I need to know about her."

"Are you asking me to tell you about her?"

"Yes, Minerva, I am."

The witch shuddered slightly. She stretched her mouth wide a couple of times and ran her tongue around her teeth before starting to speak. "That feels better. Now, my tongue is loosened."

Snape gave her a quizzical look.

"Another of Dumbledore's spells," she said in explanation. "He didn't want you distracted from your job of protecting Harry, so he placed a tongue-tie on those of us who were close to you. We couldn't mention her name, unless you asked directly about her."

"About whom?"

"Charmaine Bien-Aimée."

"Charmaine?" Severus frowned. The name rang a bell, but he could not recall why. He rolled the name around in his head. "Charmaine Bien-Aimée. Charmaine well-loved."

"Yes. Our beloved Charmaine." Minerva smiled at her memory.

"No, I don't remember her."

"Severus, my dear boy, how very sad. I didn't realise that manipulative, old bustard had modified your memories, making you forget her. Circe's hairy oxters! That's outrageous!"

Snape rubbed his fingertips in circles over his temples. "I'm not sure he did, Minerva. I've worked at the Department of Mysteries for a couple of years, and in my spare time I have researched my memory deficit. Having some absent memories meant I had no reference point to start from, but, even when I returned those stored memories, I still can't remember things clearly. My study suggests I might have done this to myself, or it might be something to do with the protection from the Unicorn's Blaze. Now you have given me a name, which is most helpful."

Severus rose from his seat, thanked Minerva and headed towards the fireplace.

"Is that all, Severus? Don't you want to know any more?"

His hand paused as he reached for the Floo powder. "It's enough for now, thank you, Minerva. I have to admit I'm more than a little apprehensive about what I may find out."

Crossing the room in a rustle of skirts, Minerva laid a hand on Snape's shoulder. "Dinna fash yersel', laddie."

Snape turned towards her, but was distracted by a ringing tone emanating from inside his robes. "I'm needed back at work."

"If you want any more help, you know where I am," Minerva called after him as he swirled away into the green flames, adding more quietly, "and I know who she is."

*

Snape's Head of Department was waiting for him.

After years working in Australia, Joanna Megansdochter was more used to a relaxed work atmosphere and found working in the Ministry conventional and claustrophobic, not to mention rife with nepotism. Occasionally, she wished her red hair was due to Weasley genes. It certainly would have moved her up the promotional ladder faster. Instead, she had worked hard and gained the promotions on her own merit, whilst still maintaining her unique Aussie attitude.

She liked nothing better than to invite her straight-laced colleagues to sling some tinnies in the esky, put on their stubbies and thongs, and join her to throw another snarler on the barbie in the arvo. Their confused reactions to the invitation made her giggle. Severus, on the other hand, had smirked and turned up to her afternoon barbeque in his normal robes with flipflops on his slender feet and a few cans of beer in his hand. The drongo said he didn't want to give her family nightmares by wearing shorts.

The auburn-haired witch smiled as Severus approached. Joanna had worked with Severus for a couple of years and rather liked the dour wizard. He made her laugh, and when she did her eyes disappeared further into their merry crinkles. She was only a couple of years older than him, and when he had first arrived, not long after his release from Azkaban, she had harboured a bit of a fancy for his brooding looks.

She had thought if she invited him out for a few drinks, she might be able to divert him from his well publicised obsession with his teenage love. Maybe, she could entice him to shift his feelings from one red-head to another, she had joked with a colleague. Instead, she had found he was not obsessed with Lily Evans at all, but still had a huge void in his life which he now tried to fill with work.

It wasn't just the memory loss. In fact, he did not describe it as loss of memories. Severus described his memories as insubstantial. He could remember most things, but if he tried to concentrate too hard on certain people, they seemed to shift and fade or blank out into whiteness. The problem appeared to frustrate and sadden him.

Joanna watched Severus approach with his customary long strides and severe expression. At times, she felt like a frowsy granny next to his austere elegance, but she would rather her home was cluttered with laughing children and rescued animals, than the emptiness she perceived in Severus.

Tonight, however, Snape's lack of family commitments worked in her favour. Joanna had a couple of grandchildren she needed to get home to care for, and she was handing the final stages of their project over to him.

She had some reservations about giving Severus the final assignment, especially as he would be briefing their operative on Timeportkey travel and sending them back to aid his own younger self. It seemed wrong for him to have that job. Unfortunately, it could not be avoided. The agent was arriving soon, and Jo had to leave early.

Quickly, she ran over the assignment again with him.

"Right, I'm off now. See you tomorrow. I owe you for this. It'll be my shout next time we're at the pub."

"You might want to put a bit of a glamour on that," she said, indicating the scar on Snape's neck as she headed for the door. "We don't want the girl frightened out of her wits before she starts her mission."

*

Megansdochter's friendly eyes peered back from the mirror, scrutinising her features. The hair colour was fading a little and greying at the edges. The freckles were also disappearing. Weren't freckles supposed to fade during your childhood? Better late than never. Her mouth curled up in a smile, plumping the apples of her cheeks.

Finally, there was the nose. Snape had politely called it retroussé, but truthfully it looked as if the witch's maker had run out of time whilst moulding the clay. Unlike Snape's finely sculpted appendage, hers was more of a freeform splodge.

Sighing, Severus turned away from the mirror.

Transforming into his Head of Department was not a particularly difficult spell, but it made him feel uncomfortable in his skin. He had only glanced briefly at the final pages of the assignment. When he had seen the operative's name on the file, he had felt a simple glamour would not have been enough to prevent the young woman from being traumatised. Just the sight of Severus Snape would probably be enough to send any unsuspecting witch screaming.

He drew himself up to his full height, which was considerably shorter than he was used to, and strode towards his meeting as purposefully as he could in women's shoes.

*

Travelling down in the lift to the Department of Mysteries, Hermione shivered. Why hadn't she arranged to meet Madam Megansdochter elsewhere?

It was after hours, every sane person had gone home and she was walking down the short, dark corridor to an unknown assignment. The last time she had been here it had been this quiet, and she remembered well the mayhem which had followed. This time she didn't have Harry and Ron with her for support. She felt naked and exposed without them now, but, in truth, they had rarely been at her side since they'd left school.

She stood before the Department's plain, black door for a moment, muttering under her breath to herself, trying to fortify her resolve. As she raised her hand to knock, the door swung open silently of its own accord, allowing her access to the circular room within. A witch stood in the middle of the floor.

"Come in, Miss Granger, and close the door."

As Hermione shut the door behind her, the circular room began to spin around her. Feeling vertiginous, she lurched forward, grabbing the other witch's hand and closing her eyes.

A/N:

Scottish / English translations:

diddy = daft person, scunner = nuisance, skelf = splinter or thin person, bahookie = bottom, blether = chatter, lug = ear, oxters = armpits, Dinna fash yersel' = don't get upset / don't worry yourself.

Australian / English translations:

dag = idiosyncratic person / comedian, drongo = daft person, snarler = sausage, tinnie = can of beer, esky = chiller bin, stubbies = very short shorts or tins of beer, thongs = flipflop sandals, arvo = afternoon.

Thanks to Jokay for her inspiration. Love your skinny blister. As ever, sunny33 does the beta work.