Chapter Sixty-Nine: Moulting

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Moulting

Sunday, 21 March 1999

As he reached his rooms, Severus felt a slight twinge of regret for his curtness with MacAirt, but he dismissed that regret easily. The wizard might be perfectly amiable...and completely clueless as to why Severus had treated him rudely...but that hardly mattered: MacAirt was taking Poppy out for dinner, more than compensation enough for a little rudeness, Severus thought.

There was a note from Minerva waiting for him on the table in his sitting room.

Severus...

21 Mar 1999

Severus hung up his leather jacket and pulled a teaching robe on over his casual attire. He doubted he'd have time to change before dinner, and he disliked appearing unprofessionally dressed in the Great Hall in front of the students.

When he stepped into the her office, the Headmistress wasn't there, but Fawkes was, sleeping perched on the back of her chair. Severus cleared his throat and the bird woke up and blinked at him.

"I am here to see the Headmistress."

Fawkes trilled lightly, then Disapparated with a smoky flash. Severus eased himself into one of the armchairs by the fireplace, feeling the effects of too much time spent on a broomstick after not having flown in quite a while. He tried not to think of Poppy on her way to some exotic dinner destination with a rich, handsome, charming wizard, whilst he sat there waiting to meet with the Headmistress before going to yet another dull meal in the Great Hall.

Fawkes returned in a burst of flame and song, seeming to shed soot as he landed and settled into a large copper bowl in the centre of the desk, but the Headmistress wasn't with him. Severus hoped that the bird had actually found Minerva and that Minerva had understood that he was waiting for her in her office. He wondered whether he should have simply cast a Patronus...though given his current mood, he doubted that it would be as corporeal as the one he had cast for Helena that morning. After several minutes, during which Severus brooded on the unfairness of life in general and his life in particular, the door to the office opened and Minerva stepped in, pink-cheeked and dressed in a long green woollen cloak which picked up the green in the tartan skirt of her over-robe. She sent her hat flying over to the rack at the back of the office as she removed her cloak.

"I'm glad you're here, Severus," Minerva said, sending her cloak to follow her hat. "I was unsure whether you would be back until after curfew, since you aren't on duty at all today."

"I hadn't wanted to be," Severus replied moodily.

"I'd like to ask that you not leave the grounds unaccompanied this week. I know that is..."

"Impossible. I have plans. I am not an indentured servant," Severus said. "And if that is a requirement of my job, then I quit."

"Severus! There is no call to take that attitude with me! And it was a request...a polite request...made out of concern for you, not a job requirement." Minerva sat down in the chair opposite him.

"Sorry." Severus looked away.

"Do as you like, then, Severus. But I am concerned about the attacks, and Alastor has requested that we three meet together before the duel on Saturday afternoon. He has concerns for your safety."

Severus snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's the one behind all this...except he wouldn't be as sloppy about it, and he'd cause more damage."

"Whatever is wrong with you today? Alastor is working as a consultant to the Ministry with regard to these attacks, and the communication I received from him today indicated that he believes you might become a target."

"I find it hard to credit...that he is concerned, not that I might become a target." Severus hadn't forgotten the older wizard's apology, but he had also forgotten neither Moody's long-standing animosity nor the devastating curse he'd cast, which had led to the apology.

"Well, he is concerned. And whether you believe that or not, I am concerned. I would like to minimise your risk. There's no war on, Severus. You needn't place yourself in harm's way. You finally have your life back; you don't want to squander it now in some show of bravado."

"You make assumptions that this life I have is worth anything, to me or to anyone else, and you forget that I am not a Gryffindor: I do not make a 'show of bravado.'"

"Well, then, don't be a damned fool and take unnecessary risks," Minerva replied sharply. "And I thought you felt your life was going well, that you were becoming happier, that you had things to look forward to. Even just the other night, it seemed so."

Severus sighed. "I suppose I had. But I see my chance at happiness grow slimmer...to be taken away once again by someone who already has everything in the world, but who wants the one thing that I . . . Never mind, Minerva," he said with a shake of his head. "I will take care if I leave the grounds, but I won't be confined here. Unless that's the purpose of Moody's 'communication'...he believes that I'm involved in these attacks and he wants you to keep an eye on me."

"Don't be absurd, Severus. Alastor is truly concerned for your welfare. He is trying to make up for past transgressions. Don't you believe you should let him try? As others have allowed you?"

Severus just snorted softly and shook his head.

Minerva's jaw worked. She was growing impatient. "Severus, we have been friends for a long time. We have been through a lot together. I say this with all the love in the world: stop acting like a petulant child, sit up straight, and look me in the eye! If there is something wrong that you'd like to talk about, I'm here to listen, but you're behaving like a spoiled eight-year-old who didn't get what he wanted for his birthday. All of us have our troubles, you know, not just you. And as for your attitude toward Alastor, you do have a right to be suspicious and careful of him given your history with him, but he is, indeed, trying to make amends. Who do you think leaked to the Prophet the story of your saving Scrimgeour's granddaughter's family and rescuing her son from the fire?"

Severus looked at Minerva blankly. She hadn't scolded him like that in a long time. "I assumed that you had told Amanda Teller. It was in one of her articles . . . It was Moody?"

"Yes. There are very few people who know precisely the set of facts that appeared in the article, so I asked him about it, and he said he'd talked to her as an anonymous source. He told me that it wasn't fair that the newspapers were beginning to print speculation about you without some balancing facts to counter it."

"Oh. Hmmpf. Well, I suppose he thinks we're square now, all is well, and everything forgiven," Severus said sarcastically.

"All right, Severus, I see that we will get nothing accomplished this evening. When you decide to behave like an adult...and my Deputy Headmaster...we can discuss the other Hogwarts business I had in mind. I don't have the patience for this right now." Minerva stood. "If you were a student, you'd be writing lines by now." She turned to leave for her suite.

Severus sprang from his chair. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I'm sorry. I just . . . I'm sorry."

Minerva turned and looked up at him. "Will you meet with Alastor and me next Saturday before the duel and be able to remain civil?"

"Yes, Headmistress."

"Good. And do take care when you leave the grounds. You may annoy the living daylights out of me sometimes, Severus, but I don't want anything to happen to you. And if you wouldn't mind letting me know when you leave and approximately what time you expect to return, it would save me a good deal of worry."

Severus nodded. "I will send you a Patronus if I anticipate being late returning."

"Good." She paused a moment, still looking at him. "Do I have my Deputy Headmaster with me now?"

"Yes. I apologise for my earlier behaviour. I . . . I have no excuse."

Minerva nodded and returned to her chair. "You may have no excuse, but is there a reason? I presume that your ill mood did not simply blow in on a wind whilst you were out testing broomsticks."

"There is a reason for it, and it has nothing to do with broomsticks or the wind." Severus slumped into his chair. "I had a fine morning, actually. I merely regret it because . . . I had abysmal timing once again, as I so often do."

"How so?"

"I decided to take your advice and . . . well, woo Poppy. I bought her a small gift and I planned to ask her out to dinner. But I should have asked her earlier, before I left the castle. She has a date tonight. With Quin MacAirt. And he only owled her this morning. If I had asked earlier . . . but I'd wanted the moment to be perfect...private, for one, and not in the middle of the Great Hall at breakfast...and I'd thought it would be good to have a little present for her." He shook his head. Humiliations, rejections, injuries, and his own terrible judgment and miserable temperament, it all seemed never-ending. He shouldn't have been surprised that Hermione had found his touch repellent. That had been bad enough, but now Poppy, even with all her kindness and warmth, was choosing the company of another wizard over his.

"She and Quin have been friends for years..." Minerva began.

"I know that. And Gareth told me that he was the wizard she was out with on Friday night, when he took her to Paris for dinner, and that the two of them had dated before he was cursed. I haven't a chance," he said gloomily.

"Gareth was just a boy at the time," Minerva said. "Poppy did date Quin for a short while the summer after she and Murdoch finally called it quits for good. It wasn't serious, however. They're close friends, of course, I won't minimise that, but if Gareth gave you the impression that the two were dating seriously back then, he was mistaken. They'd stopped dating months before Quin was attacked. They did still see each other as friends, though. And you can't very well expect Poppy to give up her friends even if you two were to begin seeing each other."

"But it was a date. She said it was. Or she didn't say it wasn't. And she was concerned about her appearance. She wouldn't be if it weren't a date. He's not just any friend. I saw him on his way up to her. He's a rich, handsome, charming, successful international businessman...and never in league with any Dark Wizards, as I was. She'd be a fool to not want to be with him more than me." Severus gestured toward Minerva. "After all, look at the way I just behaved with you. I'm a miserable, unpleasant, ugly, unpopular schoolteacher who still has fits of irrational bad temper and can't even behave politely toward someone I love." Severus reddened. "I meant, of course, toward you."

"We all get into bad moods sometimes, Severus, and I truly doubt that the first words that spring to Poppy's mind when she thinks of you are 'miserable,' 'unpleasant,' 'ugly,' or 'unpopular.' And as for the way you behaved just now..." Minerva shrugged "...I was in my Headmistress mode when, perhaps, you needed me more as a friend. We are often freer with our emotions, including our bad tempers, with people to whom we are closest. You do have an unpleasant way about you when you get into a bad mood, though, Severus, and you should try not to take it out on the people around you, particularly when they had nothing to do with it and haven't a clue what's got you so riled."

Severus nodded. "I do try. But I am just not a very nice person and I know that I have a bad temper. It's the way I am."

"Then it's even more laudable when you do keep your temper under control. And you may have a bad temper by nature...and I'm not completely convinced that's true...but even if you do, you are a rational human being. You can develop strategies to cope with it."

Severus sighed and nodded. "I suppose I'll have to if I'm to have any chance of a relationship with Poppy at all."

"Not just with Poppy, Severus, and not just romantic relationships. Even if things don't work out with Poppy, you shouldn't decide that she was the only reason to work on your coping strategies. You really need to do it for yourself, so that you are happier with yourself and so that you can develop other relationships, too."

"I know you're right, but it doesn't feel that way to me." Severus shrugged. "At least I didn't storm out of here, indignant and angry with you that you dared dislike my behaviour, which is what I would have done a few years ago, I'm sure."

"That is something," Minerva acknowledged with a fond smile.

"You see why I shouldn't be involved in the counselling programme now, though? I have too many of my own problems to be able to help anyone with theirs."

"You've done well with Slytherins in the past."

"The ones whose problems weren't caused by their nearest and dearest being Death Eaters, perhaps. But their troubles were usually minor ones...homesickness, teenage crushes, poor revision habits...and I simply trotted out the little phrases and bromides that you and Albus instructed me to. They generally all boiled down to 'keep busy' and 'keep busy and make a revisions schedule.'"

"Nonetheless..."

"Nonetheless, you did say that there was some other Hogwarts business to attend to. If we still have time before dinner, we could discuss it now."

Minerva glanced at her grandfather clock. "No, I don't think we do. But it's nothing urgent. I hadn't planned to speak to you about it until we met before the Wednesday staff meeting, anyway. It simply seemed that this might have been a convenient time."

"After dinner, then. I have nothing better to do. It would take my mind off of . . . where Poppy might be and what she might be doing."

"All right, then. After dinner," Minerva agreed.

Back in the Headmistress's office an hour later, Severus almost dropped his coffee cup. He stared at Minerva. "You want to do what? I couldn't have heard you correctly. You want to eliminate the Sorting in the autumn? Whatever happened to, 'as long as I'm Headmistress, there will be four Houses at Hogwarts'?"

"I didn't say anything about eliminating the Houses, and I didn't say that I wish to eliminate the Sorting altogether. If I can wrangle the Governors properly, next year would be the first year of implementing my new plan, and the Sorting would begin again the following year, but with the second-years, not the first."

"You want to Sort the second-years? But what about the first-years? And the Welcome Feast?"

"We'd obviously still have a Welcome Feast to begin the new year, but there would be five tables in the Hall, not four." Minerva reached into her pocket and pulled out a small sheet of parchment. "Here. I have a diagram. We'd put a fifth, smaller table either here, just in front of the staff table, or," she said, turning the parchment over, "here, in the middle, between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff on this side and Ravenclaw and Slytherin on the other, but close to the staff table, since it would be somewhat shorter, with only between forty and fifty students."

"But . . . but they wouldn't have Houses." Severus couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the idea of there being Houseless Hogwarts students.

"No, not until their second year," Minerva said patiently, "when they would be Sorted after having already established relationships with others in their year without regard to House and after having had a year in which to become familiar with both Hogwarts and the House system."

"It won't work. And no one will support this. And where would they sleep? And they'd have no Head of House..."

"Obviously they would have somewhere to sleep, Severus! Do you think I'd just have them camp in the Great Hall all year?" Minerva rolled her eyes. "They would have their own dormitories and someone to look after them. I also have a plan for involving some of the older students, sixth-years, from the four Houses, but that is not a necessary part of the plan. It would simply be convenient and, I think, beneficial for the first-years and any student mentors from the other Houses."

"A fifth House? What would you call it? McGonagall House? Dumbledore House?"

"No, no, no! Severus, you haven't the proper attitude or understanding at all. Not a fifth House. Not a House, per se. Just a first-year dormitory. I thought either on the fourth floor, where the staff wing, the library, and the Hospital Wing now are, and where I plan them to be next year, or perhaps the sixth floor. There is a lot of unused space on six that could be converted to dormitories."

"If I were on staff and had my suite on the fourth floor, I do not think I would appreciate having a first-year dormitory right around the corner from me."

"Yes, I considered that, too. But it would be convenient to have them close to the library and the infirmary. Perhaps six would be better, though. I want to have sufficient details hammered out before I present the idea to the staff and then to the Board of Governors at their next meeting so that I feel secure in what I am presenting."

Severus shook his head. "No one will agree to it."

"Perhaps not. Or perhaps not for the coming year. But I will continue to present the idea until they do agree to it. Ceterum autem censeo, Carthaginem esse delendam...and furthermore, I believe Carthage must be destroyed," she quoted with a glint in her eye. "They'll come around."

"And who would you have supervise the first-year dormitory?"

"I think we should hire someone specifically for that position, perhaps giving her...or him...a few other duties. I thought it would be quite advantageous if we had someone who could also tutor them in a few of the basic subjects and perhaps offer some remedial reading and writing classes for those who didn't attend school before coming to Hogwarts."

Severus's eyes lit up. "If you do that, all of them should have it, not just the ones who were schooled at home. It would be something I am sure the rest of the teaching staff would greatly appreciate. And perhaps a class in logical reasoning. No more poorly written essays, no more fallacious arguments...you'd have the staff on your side with that."

Minerva laughed. "I rather doubt that one year of a class in reading and writing...and classical logic...would eliminate poorly written essays or fallacious arguments, but it would help. Albus said the first- through third-years had Rhetoric required when he was in school. There were no OWLs in it, so few people took it beyond the third year, but he took it for five. He claims to have enjoyed it, but looking at the old schoolbooks he had for it, it's hard to understand how. Anyway, I thought something along the lines of the old Rhetoric course, but modernised, and only for the first-years. At least for the time being. I would like to introduce a Latin course, too, but not just yet."

"That would be very handy in advanced Charms, Transfiguration, and Defence, and even in Potions," Severus said. The students all received some basic instruction in Latin in their spells courses, but it was very haphazard and rudimentary. Anyone interested in it any further would either have to study on their own or wait until sixth-year Ancient Runes, when the NEWTs-level students would be introduced to spell-Latin as a part of the study of language, characters, sound, and the historical development of magical incantations. Few students took Ancient Runes to begin with, and fewer still took it beyond the OWLs. "I found knowledge of Latin useful when I began designing my own spells."

"I had all of that before coming to Hogwarts, but even as a child, I recognised that my home education was unusual. My father had hopes that I would become a linguist, like he was, and he tried to interest me in languages. I received quite a good classical education before I began at Hogwarts, although it took me a while to appreciate it. I certainly didn't appreciate it on days when the sky was blue and the cliffs were calling me, and I was in my father's cluttered study having to read and translate Cato or Plotinus," she said with a laugh.

"It sounds idyllic to me," Severus said softly.

"Someday perhaps you can do that with your own child," Minerva said with a wistful smile.

"My Latin isn't good enough, and I'm unlikely to have children," Severus said, taking her statement seriously. "Besides, I'd be a terrible parent." He looked at her a moment. "Did you ever want children? Of your own?"

"It would have been nice," Minerva replied, looking down at her parchment and turning it in her hands. "But it wasn't part of the scheme of things. And I had all of you, hundreds of children."

"But you wanted children of your own?"

Minerva twitched one shoulder. "It was a moot subject. But yes, I would have liked to have had a child or two. Dumbledore insisted that it was an impossibility . . . and there was no choice for me. It was his children or none at all, so none at all it was."

"Any children of his would have been targets of the Dark Lord...Riddle," Severus pointed out. "And if it were known that you and Dumbledore were married, you would have become an even greater target than you were. Riddle took great thrill in using people's families against them. I believe he resented the affections between parents and children, husbands and wives."

"I'd thought we could work something out, though, that it might have been possible . . . and Dumbledore had already made this decision before Riddle returned from abroad, before the toe-rag was an obvious threat. But that was one of his reasons," Minerva acknowledged, "he saw the danger approaching. There were other reasons, though, ones more . . . personal to him. And he wouldn't speak about it once I'd made it plain that I could live with it as long as I had him. I'd made my decision, after all. It became something of a forbidden topic between us. That was one of the most painful things about seeing Gareth move to Amsterdam . . . I could never have taken Gertrude's place, I knew that, but . . ." Minerva swallowed and blinked. "He was Malcolm's son and he needed me. It was almost as though fate had given me a chance to have a child, that one good thing had come out of our terrible losses, first my brother's murder and then Gertrude's injury and exile. During that year and a half that I was his guardian before you were hired, it seemed . . ." Minerva shook her head. "Time flies, though, and Gareth is well-grown and a good man, a fine wizard. Robert and Thea did well with him. But I had no children, none with Albus and not even a surrogate in Gareth."

"It's hardly surprising, though," Severus said, looking at the subject logically. "Dumbledore was already old when you married. He'd hardly want children in his old age."

"Any children we may have had would be grown now, and Dumbledore's still working, still vital," Minerva said sharply, answering his logic with her own. "And even if Albus had died during the war, his children would have had their father well into adulthood. And he has energy enough for the children of this school, there are house-elves, there's my extended family. He'd hardly have been overly taxed."

Severus shrugged. It had never really occurred to him before that Minerva might have wanted children of her own, but she had been fairly young when she and Dumbledore had come together, and Severus saw now that things might have once been difficult because of their age difference. Dumbledore had mentioned that to him, as well, saying the difficulties due to the age difference had diminished over the years, but that he was now seeing new ones, now that he was of an age where he might like to retire but Minerva was at the peak of her career. He had also said that Minerva had made personal and professional sacrifices for him, so he could make a few for her now. At least the wizard recognised that and didn't take her sacrifices for granted.

"Well, that's the long past," Minerva said briskly. "Let's just plan for the future now, eh?"

"You have other startling plans you're going to spring upon me tonight?" Severus asked, glad for the change of topic.

Minerva shrugged. "Not as much as that. But I have spoken to Ms Benetti about having additional Quidditch teams, ones not organized by House, and expanding the offering of sports beyond just Quidditch and first-year flying lessons. If she stays on next year, she's thinking of introducing lacrosse, both traditional and the broomstick version. I'm beginning to think that Albus's bowling alleys might have been a good idea. Our students can too easily become physically lazy. I am going to coax Caspar and Poppy into forming a Hillwalking Club, as it's something they both enjoy, and possibly get Rath involved in that, if I can. Also, Renwick Douglas has agreed to come in once a month next year and offer demonstrations and a kind of 'Introduction to Drawing, Painting, and the Charming Arts,' something beyond what Filius can offer in his regular Charms course. There are fewer and fewer students expressing interest in music, painting, and the other arts, and I'd like to see some student organisations formed around something other than Gobstones, Quidditch, exam preparation, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Filius's plans for a duelling club next year are fine, I have no objections to it, but there is more to life than that."

"How is Dumbledore's Muggle book club going?" Severus asked.

"Quite well, I understand. Albus seems pleased, at any rate. There are about fifteen students who attend regularly, and a number of the staff, as well. That's another thing I'd like to see more of...activities in which older students are able to mingle with the staff or other adults. Being at school gives them a peculiar view of the world, as though there's teenagers and then the rest of the world."

"Teenagers will be that way regardless," Severus said.

"Perhaps, but I don't think it's natural. I'd like to see more intergenerational mingling. But then, I grew up surrounded by adults of widely spaced generations and very few children, so perhaps that was odd, as well." Minerva shrugged. "Still, it would be good for them to learn how to interact with adults as adults themselves, or as near to it as they can manage, before they head off for apprenticeships or work or what-have-you."

"Mmm." Severus thought that was something better left to the families during the school holidays. They had enough to be getting on with at Hogwarts, he thought, just trying to cram some knowledge into the students' heads. "I think one step at a time, though, Minerva. Don't try to bite off more than you can chew, as they say. And this is a school. I think the students' lessons should come first."

"Of course. I naturally recognise that, but their education needn't be as narrow as it's become. Even Dumbledore agrees with me completely on that point."

"Where is Albus tonight?" Severus asked. He hadn't seen him trundle through the office, and the other wizard hadn't been at dinner, either.

"He is out for the day. He has felt . . . peculiar the last few days, and although I have tried to distract him from his worries, it is difficult for him to forget this day and let it go completely unmarked when it is also the vernal equinox. This morning when he woke up, he said he felt restless. I told him to go to the island and have himself a good ramble and some time to himself."

"It was today two years ago when he . . . when you . . ."

"When I almost killed him...and did kill him to the rest of the world. Yes. I think he needed some time alone to think about things. Not just that, but all that led up to it."

"And you didn't?"

"No. Not today, anyway," Minerva said. "Anniversaries can sometimes hold . . . emotion for me. But this one, this year at least, doesn't, not as much as for Albus, at any rate. Perhaps one year it will. But I have processed it over and over again, I've had nightmares about it, and I have no desire to reawaken any of that at the moment by dwelling on it today when it feels like just another Sunday to me. The anniversary of my father's death in December was harder for me this last year than in years past. I don't know why that should have been, but I suddenly missed him terribly." She took in a long breath and let it out slowly.

Severus sat quietly for a moment. "Perhaps because this is the first year you've been able to think about it very much. He died only a few years ago, didn't he?"

Minerva nodded. "Just a few days after Christmas in ninety-five. He was working on an old Egyptian papyrus in the library. Mother went in to fetch him for lunch, and . . . well, he'd been dead for about an hour, she thought. He was happy, though, right at the end, doing something he enjoyed so much. Still, it was something of a shock. He was only one hundred twenty-six. I thought he had at least another decade or two." Minerva sighed and took off her glasses, rubbing her head. "Albus believed it might actually have something to do with the papyrus. Mother gave it to him and he locked it up, which annoyed Branwen. She got most of Dad's scholarly papers, research, manuscripts, and so on, since that's her field and she did one of her apprenticeships with him. She thought that the papyrus should have been included, particularly since it was something that Morgan, her father, had given him for Christmas. Albus does plan on checking it over for curses and so forth someday and giving it to her if it's safe, but he hasn't had the time."

"Is it even safe for Albus to do that? Perhaps it's not a curse on the papyrus itself, but something written on the papyrus, an incantation or such."

"Perhaps. I know that Albus has considered that possibility. I don't think it was the papyrus. I think it was just . . . Dad's heart, some overexcitement, perhaps. Mother made him take better care of himself than he otherwise might have been inclined to, but he was fairly sedentary. An active mind, but it was hard to pry him away from his books, you know."

Severus nodded. "When Albus tests the papyrus, someone should be with him. I take it your father was alone?"

Minerva nodded.

"I'll do it with him, then, and if I'm not at Hogwarts, you must send for me. I wouldn't want another incident like he had with the ring," Severus said. "Silly old sod."

Minerva twitched a smile. She heard the genuine concern behind Severus's dismissive epithet. She knew how hard Severus had worked to save Albus's life when he'd been struck by the ring's curse. "I'll be sure to tell him."

"Mmm. Would you like to play a game of chess whilst we, er, you wait?" Severus asked. "It's been an evening of rather grim topics."

Minerva hesitated.

"We don't need to . . . I can go to the library..."

"I'd like to play a game, actually." She looked at him speculatively. "Do you play Go, Severus?"

An hour and a half later, Severus glanced out the window. He wasn't doing very well, but he was new to the game, though it did intrigue him. It seemed a game of pure skill with little left to luck, which he appreciated. But he was also distracted by thoughts of Poppy, wondering where she was, whether she was in a passionate embrace with the handsome Irish wizard, or even if he was just making her smile and laugh. Oddly...to his mind...it bothered him more to think that MacAirt might be making her laugh than that he might be kissing her. Very peculiar . . .

"Dumbledore's coming up the drive," Severus said.

"How does he look?" Minerva asked as she placed a white stone on the grid.

"Fine, I suppose." The same as usual, Severus thought.

Minerva stood and turned toward the window. She nodded. "He looks better. Tired, but better."

"How can you tell at this distance?"

Minerva sat back down and watched Severus place one of his black stones. "His gait, I suppose. The attitude of his head, where he's looking as he walks. I've known him for a very long time. He looks better than when he left this morning."

"I'm glad for that," Severus said. "It must be peculiar for him. I know that my own near-death and then living when I hadn't believed it possible . . . that was difficult for me, but the circumstances for him were truly bizarre. Coming back to life...twice, essentially, and the first time masquerading as someone else. Not to mention that he had to trust you to stop his heart and then be able to restart it." Severus wouldn't wish to test his trust in someone that way.

"And to trust his . . . his life force to me, as well," Minerva said. She glanced at him over her glasses. "When he told you about the Arrestocordis, did he also tell you about the Adsumo?"

"The Adsumo? You can't mean . . ." Severus's brow furrowed. "The only spell I know by that name is the Adsumo spiritus, which is a very Dark spell, indeed."

"That's the one," Minerva said. She placed a white stone, closing a meandering circle and surrounding several of Severus's black ones, which she removed from the board.

Severus just stared at her, ignoring her coup.

"Your play, Severus."

"You performed that spell . . . the Adsumo . . . and in conjunction with . . . with killing him, essentially. I'd never have thought of you as one who would perform any Dark magic. Does the Ministry know? No, of course they wouldn't," he said in answer to his own question.

"It wasn't Dark. I didn't see it that way. And it worked perfectly, as you can see for yourself."

"That was a great gamble you took, that you could do it correctly in the first place and then release it properly. You could have become a kind of Horcrux for some remnant of his soul, or not succeeded in releasing it at all, or . . . so many things could have gone wrong. And that on top of just stopping his heart and restarting it, which in comparison now sounds like a child's colour-change charm. No wonder you have had nightmares about it."

"I know him well, and we are bound. He is bound to me, actually, through the Celebrare by which we cured his hand. So I think that helped me to perform the Adsumo easily and to achieve what I needed to by it. And almost no one knows we are bound like that, and only a very few know of the Adsumo, so I trust you won't say anything."

"I doubt that Dumbledore would appreciate me knowing."

"Somehow, I don't think he would mind. I wouldn't have told you if I believed it would disturb him to have you know. You and he may sometimes still be at odds, and there was a time when neither of you particularly liked each other, but he has come to love you. In fact, he views you almost as a son, you know."

Severus didn't respond to that, remembering the troubles and the tensions between them over the years, and how, as Albus began to forgive him and accept him, his own resentment, as unreasonable as it may have been, continued and even grew. How dare the old man care for him? How dare he, when he hadn't seemed to care all those years before? How dare he, when all that Severus wanted was to exact his revenge and escape his own guilt? How dare he forgive the unforgivable when even Severus, as he came both to feel his guilt and to find it inescapable, could not forgive himself . . . And how dare Albus find any pleasure, any joy, or any love in life when life itself was bleak, miserable, and overwhelmed with Darkness? The stain on Severus's own soul seemed to cast its shadow on everything around him. He grasped greedily at brief escapes...small, solitary escapes...from the bitterness of his life, but they were escapes only, and not life itself.

So much had changed . . . so much, and so much because of the witch there with him, Severus thought. And not only because of her, but because of others who had played a role not only in transforming his life, but in giving him a new one. Her forgiveness, Albus's, Gareth's . . .

"I never show it as . . . as clearly or as much as perhaps I should," Severus finally replied softly, "but I do love you, and him, as well. And if I could have a second father, I would choose no one other than Albus, as much as he still can annoy and frustrate me sometimes. But I know that I am safe in my anger with him. Years ago, it didn't seem credible that he could still care for me, still forgive me, if I pushed him away, if I grew angry with him, and yet now I rely on that very fact. If ever he were to stop caring, stop snooping and stop interfering . . . I cannot say what that would do to me."

"He won't stop caring. And if you ever need him, in any way, he will help you, you know," Minerva said. "It might not be a bad thing for you to talk to him about your confusion, about Poppy, about other things in your life. Just talk. It could be good for you both."

Severus twitched one shoulder. He didn't know how to discuss such things with Albus. It was difficult enough with Minerva or Gareth.

Minerva tilted her head. "I believe he is on his way up now, Severus." She smiled. "Yes, it is he."

"You can tell that it's him and not someone else?" Severus asked.

As Minerva nodded, there was a single sharp rap on the door and then it opened.

"Good evening, my dear." Albus smiled at the two. "I see you found some company for the evening. I'm glad of that."

"You had a good day?" Minerva asked as he crossed over to them.

Albus nodded. "Exactly what I needed. Just as you knew." His gaze was warm as it met Minerva's own, and Severus felt something pass between them, something almost tangible, and he experienced a sudden longing for that kind of contact with someone, with someone whom he loved and who loved him, their love and understanding only increasing over the years, not dimming with time and custom. He thought of Poppy, and with very clear vision, he saw the two of them together, years from that moment, grey-haired, sitting in matching armchairs and reading, a pot of tea on the table, a plate of Florentines, he and Poppy . . . comfortable, happy, loving . . .

"Teaching our boy Go, are you, Minerva?" Albus's question interrupted Severus's peaceful domestic vision.

"As you can see. And he's doing quite well."

"Don't prevaricate, Headmistress. I am losing abominably, Dumbledore. But I intend to persevere until I master the game."

Albus's smile grew at that. "Very good. And when you have mastered it, you must play Filius. He has become most predictable over the years. Perhaps a new opponent will enliven his game!"

Minerva chuckled. "I believe Filius has said the same of you, Albus, so you must also play against Severus. And I am certain that he will master the game quite well, if he takes the time."

"I will leave you to your game, then," Albus said. "I think I will change out of my walking robes and settle down with some hot chocolate and Midnight's Children."

"Shall I come up?" Minerva asked.

"No, no, you and Severus finish your game. Have another, if you like. A leisurely game of Go can be good for the spirit and conducive to easy conversation. Join me when you're ready, my dear." He kissed her cheek gently. He turned back toward Severus. "Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Albus. I won't keep Minerva long, as I am losing quite rapidly," he said with a glance at the white-dominated game board.

"Then you must demand an immediate rematch and improve your game," Albus said encouragingly.

One corner of Severus's mouth twitched upward in amusement. "Perhaps." He paused and looked up at Albus, meeting his eyes more seriously and adding softly, "I am glad to see you this evening, Albus. This day, especially. I am glad to see you well and whole."

"And I, dear boy, am very glad that you are here to see it." Albus reached out and placed his hand on Severus's shoulder and, in a rush of affection toward the older wizard, Severus responded by clasping his arm and holding it.

Fawkes let out a sudden long, low trill, and the three turned their heads toward where the phoenix lay in a large copper bowl on Minerva's desk. Fawkes raised his head weakly, trilled lightly once more, then burst into flame.

Albus slid his hand from Severus's shoulder to his elbow, urging him to stand. Minerva followed, and the three bent over the bowl of ashes and watched as Fawkes emerged from them, renewed and reborn, but a rather scrawny and unlovely chick in comparison to the magnificence of his mature form. Ugly, in fact, Severus thought. Amazing, but ugly.

Severus glanced up at Albus and saw tears gathered in his eyes.

"He's so beautiful," Albus whispered. "Faithful Fawkes . . . it is good to see you burned well this night. You needed it; it was long due for you. Now sleep, my sweet friend, and Minerva and I will give you some nice fruit puree in a few hours. We'll see whether your favourite is still gooseberry or if you've returned to preferring pomegranate. We've plenty of each."

After watching Fawkes fall asleep, his beak tucked clumsily under one awkward wing, the three withdrew quietly.

"I'll see you in a little while, my dear," Albus said softly. He patted Severus on the shoulder once more, then slowly took the stairs up to the suite above.

Chapter Seventy: To Persist and Pursue

Sunday, 21 March – Monday, 22 March 1999

Severus determines to persist, but finds his determination undermined by his own negative thoughts.

Rated T.

Characters: Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Poppy Pomfrey

Author's Note: For anyone who is unfamiliar with the Carthage reference, Ceterum autem censeo, Carthaginem esse delendam, Cato reputedly ended every speech with that, regardless of the topic of the speech, until Rome did, indeed, destroy Carthage. Minerva is therefore telling Severus that she will remind the Board of Governors of her proposal at every opportunity until it becomes reality.