Discussions With A Certain Former Headmaster

Disclaimer: Hey, I'm no JKR. I just mess around with her characters. Poor Severus.

Chapter Sixteen: Discussions With A Certain Former Headmaster

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Severus Snape walked briskly up the halls towards the main floor where he would no doubt find the Headmistress-cum-Transfiguration professor in the Great Hall ushering fourth years around to transfigure tables and benches into garden fountains or something else completely useless. He entered the Great Hall from the teachers' entrance, but was dismayed to find only a few stragglers left in the hall, correcting a couple benches back to their original state. Two of the Gryffindors could not quite manage to impede the pond water from spouting out of one upturned leg. Several Hufflepuffs were conjuring towels and casting drying spells left and right, but no one thought of using Finite Incantatem.

The Potions master approached the weary group without delay and found himself next to Dennis Creevey of all persons imaginable. He did not have a bloody camera like his older brother often had, but his obnoxiousness was twice as unendurable. Severus hissed as the younger Creevey wrung out his towel on an unsuspecting (and unsuspected) boot.

"Fool! Watch where you are wringing out that filthy pond water, or you'll find a festering stump where your own foot was!" Snape growled, and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I-I-I...I'm sorry, sir! I didn't know you were th..."

"Where is Minerva?"

"... Minerva, Professor?" he stammered, eyeing the Potions professor's pointed finger warily.

"Your headmistress? Stern looks, grey hair, irritating tendency to meddle in things that ought not to be meddled with?"

"She left." A girl with curiously orange hair called out as she stuffed the spout with another towel, only to watch sadly as it became soaked with greyish green liquid.

"And where, may I ask, did she leave to?" he snarled, but the girl was too preoccupied with the clog to give him a useful (or even respectful) answer.

"Well, she is the headmistress, as you said." The girl frowned at the towel and continued to stuff it into the jet, her hair turning magenta as her scowl deepened. Severus only rolled his eyes and turned towards the entrance hall.

"Ten points from all houses involved, for cheek, stupidity, and soiling my boot." He stormed away and muttered over his shoulder, "If only corks existed."

A few students on the outskirts of the crowd shook their heads and pushed forward to conjure such a thing.

-o-

Severus burst into the headmistress' office without warning or greeting and stormed up to her large oak desk, breathing heavily from taking the staircase in twos. He didn't even know why he was in such a hurry, but an incessant nagging feeling in his gut told him that he should find out, now. Minerva McGonagall stood from her straight-back chair, a clear expression of alarm in her usually severe features.

"Severus, what is the meaning of..."

"I must speak with Albus." Severus folded his arms when he caught his breath.

"Is something the matter?" She pursed her lips and glanced back at the former headmaster's portrait before glaring at the unresponsive Snape across the desk.

"What Dumbledore and I discuss is of none of your concern. Anyway, you may have left your fourth years too early; they are wreaking havoc upon the Great Hall as we speak."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You should probably run down and help them before they flood the whole ground floor," Severus explained further as McGonagall's bespectacled eyes bore into him. He waved a hand toward the door, and it opened allowing for the woman to exit quickly. The headmistress grumbled tetchily as she marched back down toward the Great Hall, leaving Severus alone in a room full of portraits.

"Now, what exactly," said the portrait right behind the McGonagall's high-backed chair, "is so pressing that you had to usher poor Minerva out of her own office so unceremoniously? Not that I do not enjoy your company, Severus." Albus peered down at him through his half-moon spectacles, a kind yet curious smile wrinkling his brow. Severus felt rather foolish as his painted mentor steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair to listen.

He mumbled to himself, "I must be going mad." Running his fingers through his long black hair, he began pacing, willing the other portraits not to listen. "I don't even know how this is in any way important."

"I believe," he began, "that we have both established you are rather left of sane, Severus, but that is not the 'something of great significance' that you need to discuss. I have never seen you so frazzled since the dark days."

"The first or second 'dark days,' Albus?" Snape smirked and leaned on the desk with his hands, only to find that Dumbledore was not going to answer. He hesitated to give a reason for his sudden need to talk about it. What is it, anyway? "It's Granger..."

"Ah, Hermione! And how is she, Severus?"

"Completely infuriating." He could practically hear the old man smile in his oil-based confine.

"And you have just come to this conclusion, I see."

"No." Snape rolled his eyes, but continued nevertheless, "She's recently taken up with Potions."

"I had heard that to Minerva's disappointment she was no longer pursuing a career as an Auror. How interesting that she would choose Potions." The portrait Dumbledore brought a withered hand to his face to stroke his beard, a distinct twinkle in his eye that Severus was very aware of.

"I have been nothing but caustic to her since she arrived here an obnoxious and attention-seeking child."

"And now that she is not a child?"

"She wants to take up Potions and bother me with her personal problems!"

"... Is there more to this story than it appears? Forgive me, Severus, but I do not understand why you are so disconcerted."

"I dream about her," he blurted, looking up at the old wizard to see Albus' lips forming a slight 'oh'. "Not in a... sexual... way!" Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as Albus sighed in relief. "She used to appear at random, semi-disguised and glorified, but for the past couple of months..." Snape sighed. "I have found it less and less difficult to get along with her lately, and I think it is a result of those dreams. This is where the 'I've gone mad' part comes in."

"I see. How very intriguing."

"It's disturbing!" Severus gritted out, frustrated. Dumbledore did not interrupt. "She was giving me an especially excellent Obsuoplagae salve in class, and I had to take it out of her hand, and when I touched her she nearly shrieked from fear; I have to remind her to eat...she bloody forgets things...and she hasn't slept in weeks..." Severus broke off. "But of course, I have no idea why I'm bloody telling you this!" He nearly stormed out of the office without so much as a goodbye if not for...

"She brewed Obsuoplagae?" Dumbledore's wispy brow rose into an even more vaulted curve.

"Yes, she has been filling some of my orders for St. Mungo's during classes instead of the usual tripe that I reserve for her idle friends."

"And you trusted Miss Granger to perform these tasks without sleep?"

"She no longer needs higher brain function to brew such a potion."

"Severus, I would be more careful..."

"I would not give her instructions unless I had full confidence in her!" Severus flung his arms up in frustration and then pressed on, guiltily, "It is not as if I gave her Wolfsbane to brew..."

"It appears you have somewhat of a soft spot for our talented Miss Granger."

"I don't follow." Even though he did.

"I could be wrong, but...forgive me...my judgments are not often ill-conceived, that you have not read Newton's Theorem on the laws of attraction."

"Isn't that..."

"We are not speaking about Physics, dear boy." The wise man clasped his long gnarled hands together and began, "Newton theorized that when two souls become attracted, they are connected by an equally magnetizing force. Obviously, the man was off his rocker, because one can have affection for another and that affection may never be returned."

Severus folded his arms.

"What I am trying to say is: there are no set laws to attraction, Severus... It manifests itself in many ways."

"I... you..."

"One aspect of life you have yet to discover..."

"I refuse to believe that I...that we...that she is..." the Potions master trailed off. "Merlin's saggy left..." Fawkes squawked as if to admonish his slurs.

"I'm sure the entire idea is completely ludicrous."

"Indeed."

"Severus, you cannot control your own feelings."

"Feelings," Snape spat as he stared down at the floor.

"Let me finish, Severus. I suggest, above all things, to set Miss Granger right again. I've heard she has been isolated this year. That, and she seems to be... distracting you." There was a groan of protest from Severus. "I also suggest that you come to a conclusion with these detested feelings that you have...I know you are unaccustomed, but it is nothing to be ashamed of. Lastly, it would be grand if you could convince Minerva that another portrait down by the kitchens would be good for an old man. There is a splendid still-life of a Muggle candy store across from the ticklish pear."

The room was silent as the younger of the two fought inwardly. "Thank you, Albus," he began, eyes still glued to an unusual stain on Minerva's Oriental carpet, "for your time."

The retreating professor did not hear the quiet chuckle of the former headmaster's portrait as he muttered, "I would love to hear how the detention goes, Severus." Then he popped a lemon-drop into his bearded mouth.

A/N: A short chapter compared to the last one, but this lets everyone know how Sev is feeling about this whole mess I've made. Hope you're enjoying November! Obsuoplagae is extremely butchered Latin stuck together to make 'blood thinning/thickening' potion. I can't quite remember what it was supposed to mean. I wrote this scene last year *shrugs*.