Questions and Answers

There was nothing for it but to use a Summoning Charm to fetch some wine. Minerva would have preferred not to have a bottle and three glasses hurtling through the castle whilst Dolores was on the prowl, but she had very little choice. Sirius couldn't leave Snape's office, not without risking the Headmistress discovering him; Snape was out of the question, too, since he was the only one whose understanding of the spell he'd cast on Harry was complete enough to help the boy, and Minerva wasn't leaving those two alone together again, so she couldn't go and fetch it either. The kitchens weren't very far away, anyway, and the chances of Umbridge seeing and coming to investigate the flying wine bottle were quite slim.

"How is Harry?" she asked Severus, trying to keep her voice steady and even. Even if the boy hadn't been the intended recipient of the spell, the fact remained that the Potions master had cursed a student. If she hadn't been so worried, and if tensions between Snape and Sirius hadn't already been strained to the limit, Minerva would have given the man a piece of her mind. As it was, she saved the lecture until later. Albus, too, would want to discuss this matter with Snape in detail.

"Weak." As usual, Severus wasted few words.

Sirius sent a glare at the other man. "Whose fault is that?" he hissed.

"I rather think that it's yours," Severus drawled. "You intruded on my office uninvited."

"My fault?" Sirius exploded. "How dare you? If you hadn't thrown that curse..."

"Severus Snape and Sirius Black," Minerva scolded. She glared at the first one man, then the other. "Stop this bickering at once!"

The men glowered at one another, each refusing to look away, as though they were trying to outstare each other. They may have silenced at her command, but the tension in the room was still thick enough to be cut with a knife. It was time to get that wine. Surely that would make the atmosphere a little more convivial.

"Accio wine! Accio wineglasses!" Minerva held up three fingers to indicate how many she required. "Sirius, if you please, I only have two hands."

Sirius frowned irritably, obviously displeased that his attention had been called away from his unconscious godson. It was perhaps only force of habit towards his former Head of House that constrained his response to a polite, "Of course, Minerva."

The wine bottle flew into the room, landing neatly in Minerva's outstretched hand. Moments later, three wine glasses chased each other in through the door. By then, Sirius was by Minerva's side. He deftly caught two of them, leaving the third for the Transfiguration professor.

"Now, perhaps we can behave in a civilised manner," Minerva suggested, arching her eyebrow at the fugitive. "Sirius, if you will pour, I will check on Harry."

She must have imagined the flash of triumph in Sirius's eyes. Surely the man couldn't possibly wish to give up his place at his godson's side for her. "Certainly, Minerva," he said, flashing her a charming smile. The smile lit up his face, and for a moment, it was a shadow of the handsome visage of his pre-Azkaban days.

Minerva frowned repressively back at Sirius. She remembered that smile all too well from the hundreds of times he'd been sent to her with a note from a teacher. That smile usually meant that Sirius was up to mischief. "Just behave yourself," she admonished him. The innocent look he favoured her with only confirmed her suspicions. When she was sure Harry was recovering, she'd make a point of discovering what he was up to.

Harry's colour had improved even more, and the blood flow from his wound had ceased altogether. His breathing was deep and even, and if his robes hadn't been covered in drying blood, he would have seemed to be in a deep sleep.

"He looks better," Minerva observed, glancing at the Potions master, who was once again muttering incantations under his breath.

Severus didn't bother to answer her until he'd finished chanting. Then, he looked up, observing, "In a few days, he'll be completely recovered. He'll need regular doses of the restorative potion, but otherwise, there's no reason why he shouldn't be back in class."

On an impulse, Minerva reached over to gently smooth Harry's hair. Almost immediately, it sprung back up, just as messy as ever.

"James once tried to bewitch his hair to sit like that," Sirius observed, returning to her side and staring down at Harry. "He liked the way it made him look like he'd just got off his broomstick."

"Did it work?" Minerva wondered absently.

"Who could tell with James?" Sirius said, his voice taking on a cheerful note. "He was so busy mussing it up that nobody had any idea how it fell naturally."

"Maybe he passed the enchantment onto his son," Minerva suggested, half-fascinated and half amused, taking the glass that Sirius offered.

"It does sound like the sort of ridiculous thing Potter would do," Severus sneered.

The smile faded from Sirius's face, and he narrowed his eyes at Snape. "Well, at least he wasn't dabbling in dark magic and joining the Death Eaters," he snapped.

Once again, the two men glared at each other. The naked hatred in their faces was so intense that Minerva was sure that even the slightest provocation would lead to more violence. "Stop it, both of you!" she scolded. She had to do something before things got out of hand. "Let's just drink our wine and try and tolerate one another until we can get Harry out of here."

Under her baleful glare, Sirius passed Snape one of the glasses. The potions master glared at it, and as Sirius lifted his own to his lips said, "I believe I'll have your glass instead, Black."

Surprisingly, Sirius didn't rise to the implication. "If it makes you feel safer, I wouldn't dream of refusing you," he drawled insultingly. He took the glass from Severus and offered his own. Severus snatched it from him and, smirking triumphantly, sniffed the wine.

Sirius smiled too, his expression devoid of concern. Without breaking eye-contact with Severus, he drained his glass.

"Well, I guess I'll live," he pronounced. "Are you still scared, Snape? Maybe you'd better go and drink some milk from your mama, just to make sure I haven't poisoned you."

"Honestly!" Minerva scolded. "Can't you two be civil for even a moment? The wine isn't poisoned, Severus." In demonstration, she took a long sip of her own glass.

Glaring at Sirius, Snape too took a swig. "Black hasn't the courage to try and kill me," he sneered. "It's beyond my imagination how anyone could have believed he would have the nerve to commit one murder, let alone thirteen."

"Yes, that's more your style, isn't it, Snape?" Sirius suggested affably. "How many murders have you committed? Surely He-Who-Thinks-He's-Too-Good-To-Be-Named had a few special assignments for you?"

Snorting, Snape shook his head. "You're a fool, Black. Do you think the Dark Lord would expose me for such crass purposes when keeping me out of the public eye served him so much better? I am the best spy he ever had."

"That's hardly a boast," Sirius sneered. "I've seen some of the idiots that call themselves Death Eaters."

"Would you mess with Bellatrix Lestrange?" Snape countered. "Or Lucius Malfoy? Yet even those two always stood lower in the Dark Lord's esteem than I."

"Really?" Sirius prompted, his lip curled in distaste. "And yet now you find yourself a member of the Order. Isn't it odd how you've managed to gain the trust of Voldemort's most hated enemy?"

"Do not speak his name," Snape hissed furiously.

"Gentlemen!" Minerva broke in, glaring from one to the other. "This is hardly the time or the place to discuss this! Sirius, Dumbledore has always known this." She attempted to keep the shock out of her voice. Although Albus had confided many details of Snape's past to her (although certainly not all), she had never before heard the man himself talk of his life as a Death Eater. The pride in his tone, the near-reverence he used when speaking of Voldemort, and the disdain in his expression as he challenged the two of them sent a cold chill of horror through her.

"Not even he realises how valuable I am – to both sides," Snape sneered. "Dumbledore is a trusting fool. You know it, don't you Minerva?"

"He's always been too ready to see the best in everyone," Minerva conceded reluctantly. "I believe that if Voldemort came to him and asked for mercy, that he would grant even him leniency."

"And he would be killed!" Snape crowed, apparently not as concerned with her use of Voldemort's name as Sirius's. "The Dark Lord is capable of such cruelty that our esteemed Headmaster could not begin to comprehend it. The Dark Lord would swat him like a bug."

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus," Minerva growled. "Dumbledore is the only wizard Voldemort has ever feared. His powers are far beyond your imagining."

"Spare us your sentimental rubbish, Minerva," Severus replied. "If you weren't so blind with lust for the man, you'd see how ill-equipped he is to stand against the Dark Lord's power."

Rage filled Minerva. "Don't you dare cheapen my feelings for Albus by comparing them to the tawdry emotions you are capable of experiencing!" she snapped. "You could not possibly understand what he means to me. You wouldn't even know the first thing about love."

Minerva was so surprised at the words coming out of her mouth, words that she hadn't before even dared think, let alone enunciate, that her hand flew to her mouth and all her anger dissipated like fog on a summer morning.

"Oh, I've had plenty of lessons," Severus snapped, oblivious to her sudden change in demeanour. "Narcissa Malfoy was quite enthusiastic about disabusing me on that very topic. Love is a feeble excuse for acting upon your most base impulses."

"Narcissa Malfoy?" Sirius drawled, his eyes flickering over to Minerva and then back to the Potions master. "My cousin wouldn't sully herself by associating with someone like you."

"Why don't you ask her about it, then, Black?" Severus snapped. "Ask her who the father of her son is. Oh, you can't, can you? You're too busy skulking in your mama's house."

Something clicked inside Minerva's head. Her uncharacteristic and unintended revelation coupled with Snape's equally unusual boasting suddenly explained why Sirius had looked so triumphant when he was asked to pour the wine. He'd drugged them! She shot him a narrow-eyed glare. He'd drunk the wine too. Had he intentionally offered Snape the untainted glass, knowing that the Potions master's distrust would inevitably lead him into demanding that Sirius exchange with him?

As if he could read her thoughts, Sirius turned and smiled charmingly at her. Turning so that he faced away from the Potions master, he reached in to the pocket of his robe and pulled out a vial neatly labelled in Severus's handwriting. She took a step closer and was just able to make out the words 'Veritaserum antidote' before he slid it back into his pocket.

"Well, that explains why you're always favouring him," Sirius drawled, "and why you deliberately sabotaged Harry's Occlumency lessons. You would do anything to neutralise Draco's rival, wouldn't you?"

"Potter is way too foolish not to walk into a trap," Snape smirked. "Undoubtedly, he thinks of it as bravery. I must admit, though, I was astonished at how easy he was to dupe. An unattended Pensieve was all that it took to ensnare him. He's Dumbledore's weapon against the Dark Lord? You all don't have a hope!"

Her mind racing furiously, Minerva realised that, as underhanded as Sirius's methods were, this was the best opportunity she'd ever have to obtain some invaluable information. "And just whose side are you on, Severus?" she asked mildly.

She was too late. The high emotion permeating the room might have carried Snape this far, but it appeared that with that last exultation, he'd finally realised what had been done to him. His eyes grew cold, and instead of answering her question, he turned to Sirius and said, "The antidote, Black, now."

"Actually," Sirius smiled, "I'd rather like to know the answer to that question too."

"The antidote," Severus repeated angrily. "Give it to me now, or I won't help your godson any further."

Sirius stared at him, startled. Under the influence of Veritaserum, there could be no doubt that Snape meant what he said, and clearly Sirius hadn't considered that the Potions master would use Harry's condition against him. It took Sirius a moment to formulate a response, and then, glaring, he pulled the bottle out of his pocket and handed it not to Snape, but to Minerva. "You first," he said.

Minerva was never so relieved to be given something in her life. It had been years since she had felt as vulnerable as she did then. She was just glad that she'd worked out what was happening soon enough to avoid compromising herself any more than she had. She was already mortified at what she had revealed. What if Albus heard of it?

She was not, however, so desperate that she forgot herself. Rather than drinking straight from the bottle, as she suspected Sirius had done, she flicked her wand, and a teacup and saucer appeared floating in the air in front of her. Pocketing her wand, she took the teacup and poured a small amount of the antidote inside it.

When it was Severus's turn, he almost snatched the antidote bottle out of Minerva's hand. "It doesn't take a great deal of thought to work out where your godson gets his larcenous habits, Black," he sneered. "Stay out of my stores."

"As I recall, it was you who sent me to them in the first place," Sirius observed mildly, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth.

"Not to steal potions!" Snape growled.

"Oh, I think that was a very – enlightening – exercise," Sirius said. "And I find it quite fascinating that you refused to answer Minerva's question."

"I won't be interrogated by you," Snape snarled. Deliberately, he turned his back on Sirius and Minerva as he downed the antidote in one large gulp.

Minerva turned to Sirius. Now that she was over the first wave of relief that the potion's effects had been neutralised, she could feel rage welling up inside of her.

"How could you do this to me?" she hissed angrily.

"I could hardly alert you without Snape noticing," Sirius pointed out calmly, seemingly unsurprised at her anger. "I wanted to make him admit he flouted Dumbledore's orders to teach Harry."

"You made a fool of me," she accused.

"Not intentionally," Sirius said. There was no evidence of contrition in his tone. He glanced over at Snape and then back to Minerva. "And it was necessary. So, does Albus know how you feel?"

Minerva had no intention of admitting that she herself had not realised how deeply her feelings ran until she had blurted them out. She paused, taking her time to formulate her response. She owed Sirius no answers. On the other hand, there was damage control to consider. "Nobody knows. I trust this will stay in this room."

Severus turned, favouring the other two with a sneer. Apparently he was not as oblivious to their conversation as Minerva had thought. "A bargain, Minerva," he said. "Keep quiet about my connection to Malfoy and his mother and I'll keep your secret about Dumbledore."

Minerva hesitated, frowning. Was it worth it? Would Snape's relationship to Draco become important later? Considering the Potions master thoughtfully, she realised that there could be no doubt that Snape favoured the boy. Albus already knew that there was a connection between them. There was no reason to expose Severus's secret.

"I agree," she said shortly.

"And perhaps..." Snape began, but he was interrupted rudely.

Sirius had crouched down next to Harry again. Clasping the boy's hand, he turned to Minerva excitedly. "He's waking up!" he cried.

Whatever Snape was going to say was lost in the resulting commotion