Chapter 1 - Circumstances Change

December, 1998

Minerva McGonagall regretted her decision to come down to the dungeons on the first day of her Christmas holidays as soon as she had made it. She should have taken the time to do something pleasant before putting herself into a terrible mood for the rest of the break, but she had already avoided this particular task for far too long. Steeling herself against what she might find within, she glared at the life-size, semi-nude painting of Salazar Slytherin's third mistress and invoked her power as Hogwarts' Headmistress to force her way into the rooms which lay beyond the portrait hole.

Sure enough, a moment later, the silly chit in the painting dropped the sultry, seductive act and pouted childishly, reluctantly swinging open in the face of a higher power. Minerva stepped through with a sniff of disdain at the sheer rudeness of some of the older portraits. She immediately regretted inhaling at all when a rather pungent, very ripe aroma assaulted her senses, causing her to hastily cast a Bubblehead Charm.

Disgusting.

Looking around, she also began to take more care about where she trod; she did not wish to inadvertently step on something dead and decayed. Because surely only something rotting could create the truly gods-awful smell that assaulted her senses.

Minerva pressed her lips into a line so thin they turned white when she stepped into the living area and saw what a state the rooms were in. Books, parchment, clothes and all sorts of half-eaten food and dirty utensils were strewn around at random, all over every available flat surface, including the floor. Even worse than the clutter of things was the fact that there were unidentifiable stains everywhere. Blood? Urine? She decided she didn't really want to know.

She began to feel slightly queasy at the thought that she had just inhaled a small fraction of the filth in this room and decided that she wished to venture no further into it. Since the elves had informed her that none of the food they left was ever touched, Minerva took the sign that there was food lying around as a good one. If the inhabitant of these rooms was well enough to procure his own meals, he must at least be alive, never mind at the moment whether he was well enough for the task that she hoped would get him out of her hair.

'Severus Snape,' she barked, 'come out where I can see you, at once!'

Minerva's words lanced through Severus' throbbing temples like a slicing hex. He could not even remember the last time he had awoken without a hangover, and today was no different. Groaning, he waited a moment or two before trying to roll off his bed and stagger into the bathroom. He wondered what had finally brought Minerva to his door. He supposed that, although he had made it perfectly clear during their last conversation that he wished to be left alone, festering like a living sore in the school she was in charge of was probably not the best way to avoid contact with the new Headmistress.

After splashing his face with some cold water to no effect, Severus lurched through to the living room and deposited himself onto the nearest chair with a muffled grunt of pain. Courtesy of the plate and upturned fork he had left on the chair, he now had a sore arse in addition to the agony behind his eyes.

'What do you want?' he snapped.

Minerva struggled to contain her disgust for the filthy, emaciated figure that was all that was left of Severus Snape. Make no mistake, she had absolutely loathed the man from the moment she found out that he had killed Albus Dumbledore, and she had put forth every effort into making his life a living hell the year that he had returned to Hogwarts as Headmaster. However, when he had survived the end of the war (Merlin knew how) and shut himself up in his old quarters at Hogwarts, she had hesitated to throw him out. After all, according to Harry, Severus was a hero. The details remained somewhat unclear to Minerva, but she knew that Severus had purportedly been working for the Order all along. She supposed that he was at least entitled to her respect, even if she could not bring herself to bestow it.

The lingering sting of Severus' 'betrayal' aside, Minerva had known him since he was an eleven-year-old boy. She had watched him grow from an unhappy scrap of a child into a rather unpleasant colleague. Having watched his life unfold in that way, she found it impossible not to feel somewhat responsible for the way he had turned out. She was, she supposed, like a disappointed parent without ever having felt the overwhelming affection that was supposed to make up for it.

In short, Minerva's feelings towards Severus Snape were rather complex. After the single meeting that she'd had with him when she became aware of his presence at Hogwarts in late May, she had become embroiled in school affairs. It had been easy to 'forget' about his presence until now, Christmas time, when it occurred to her that she had better check that she was not unwittingly playing host to a corpse. Assuming that he was still alive, she had decided that it was her duty to try to get him out of the castle and moving forward in the life that she was entirely unsure he deserved.

'There are many things that I want, Severus, but right now I would settle for you being bathed and wearing clean clothes.'

Severus ignored her.

'Do you have any idea how long you have been here?'

His head jerked up, and he made eye contact with Minerva for the first time since he had entered the room.

'If you are here to tell me that I have outstayed my ever dubious welcome, just say so.'

Minerva nodded briskly, readying herself for what was to come. 'That is correct. When I allowed you to stay here, I imagined that you merely wished for a little seclusion and perhaps closure with Hogwarts before you took your life in a new direction. You have not changed your mind, have you, about refusing to resume your teaching duties here?'

His only response was his most unattractive sneer.

Minerva struggled to contain her temper. She had never liked his attitude. 'I thought so. I know that you have a house of your own, Severus. Why not go there?'

'I... I refuse to return to Spinner's End.' He was beginning to look panicked now, breathing heavily through his nose. His hands were visibly shaking. Minerva did not think that she had ever seen him so discomfited, but she was not in a mood to be gentle with him.

'Well, have you given any thought to what you might like to do with the rest of your life? You have been here for over seven months. Surely you do not mean to rot in this dungeon until kingdom come? If you cared about Albus at all...'

She stopped abruptly and inhaled through her nose, causing the bubble around her head to wobble. She had not meant to steer the conversation in that direction, quite the contrary, in fact.

'Say it.' Severus' voice had become deadly quiet. 'Finish that sentence, and tell me what else you think I should do for Albus, Minerva. I dare you.' By the time he had finished, he was on his feet once more, white-knuckled as he gripped the chair for support.

Goaded by his mocking tone, Minerva threw all caution to the wind and obliged him. 'I was going to say, if you cared about Albus at all, the least you could do is live the life he so evidently valued above his own.'

'Have you ever considered that since I robbed Albus of his life, I might believe that living mine as if nothing had happened would be an insult to his memory? No matter. Do you even know whose life he was trying to protect when he died, Minerva? It was not mine, I assure you.'

Minerva frowned. 'If not your life, then whose?'

'Potter,' he spat. 'Always Potter, or perhaps even the Malfoy brat. Do you know what Albus told me when he asked me to kill him, Minerva? Do you know what he said when I asked about the price of my soul?'

Silenced, Minerva shook her head.

'You alone will know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation,' he said, mimicking Dumbledore's calm, assured tone. By this time, Severus' chest was heaving as he struggled not to explode.

Minerva's curiosity got the better of her. 'And?' she ventured softly.

'AND FROM THAT MOMENT, I MEANT TO DIE!'

With this outburst, Severus seemed to deflate, collapsing back into the chair. For the first time since the end of the war, Minerva felt that she was finally satisfied with the role that Severus had played in it. And the errand which had originally brought her down to Severus' rooms – a task which she had fully expected him not to be suitable for – now seemed rather appropriate, after all.

Staring at a point just above and to the side of his ear, she muttered, 'It seems that I owe you an apology.'

Severus turned his head away from her. Too little, too late.

'Contrary to what you might believe,' Minerva added, 'I did not come down here this morning to harass you about your role in the war. I have a proposition for you. Please clean yourself properly, and meet me in the Entrance Hall an hour from now. We can discuss it over lunch in Hogsmeade.'

He nodded. Truth be told, Severus was somewhat relieved that someone had finally come and broken his routine of sleeping, eating and drinking in the cold, lonely dungeon. Regardless of how little Minerva might care for his company, she was at least willing to speak to him. That was more than what most others could stomach.

He could only wonder what sort of job – for it never crossed his mind that she wanted anything from him other than performance of a service – she could possibly think him fit for.

'Oh, and, Severus?'

'What?'

'Kindly do not interfere with the house-elves I am going to send down to help you clean up.'

He shot a very dirty look at her retreating back. He was disgusted that he couldn't come up with a suitably cutting retort before she slammed his door behind her.

Exactly one hour later, Severus found himself showered, shaved, sober and wearing freshly laundered robes for the first time in months. Far from feeling refreshed, he was uncomfortable and self-conscious. For Merlin knew how long, Severus had not ventured out of his rooms even for food; he'd merely requested owl-delivery from the Three Broomsticks whenever the urge to eat had struck him. As a result, when he came up out of the dungeons, it was incredibly unnerving to see the castle back the way it had always looked.

It should not be spotless, but it was. The stone was unblemished and whole, the hourglasses for tallying House-points stood as proudly as they always had. Ravenclaw was in the lead. Where were the stains? Where were the scorch marks from spells and curses? Where was the darkness, the inherent wrongness in bringing war to a place of learning full of children? Why were there no marks to show what had taken place in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

Severus shivered and tried to shake off the distorted, nightmare-like memories of what he had seen when he had been brought up to the school on a stretcher after the Boy Who Lived had thought to collect the Potion master's corpse. It had been the surprise of precious Potter's life to find his ex-teacher still breathing courtesy of a delayed-effect anti-venin that Severus had ingested daily for the past year. After two weeks in St Mungo's intensive care unit, and another week in a normal ward, Severus had been discharged with the affected internal organs (notably his windpipe) either re-grown or restored to normal functionality, with only a very unsightly scar to show for his injury. Most of the procedures hadn't been covered by the NHS, but as he found out later, Potter had paid for the whole. Guilt was a truly powerful motivator.

Struggling not to fidget with his hands, his robes, anything that would distract him from the fact that he was the only person standing in the cold, empty, damnably clean Entrance Hall, Severus felt an immense wave of relief when Minerva came briskly down the main staircase, already in her travelling cloak and a thick tartan scarf. She was scowling slightly, no doubt put out at having suggested lunch in Hogsmeade rather than a comfortable meal in the Great Hall. It was the middle of winter, after all.

Never one to dawdle, Severus just barely waited for her to reach him before moving towards the doors.

Behind him, Minerva smiled grimly. She could sense her companion's unease, but from her point of view, anything that finally got him out the doors and into the world could only be a blessing.

Walking in silence, Minerva tried to anticipate the sorts of objections Severus would have to her proposal. She had chosen the Three Broomsticks specifically because he might be less likely to cause a scene in a public place.

By the time that they had ordered their lunch (steak and kidney pie for him, soup of the day for her), she saw that Severus' frown had disappeared. He now wore the blank, inscrutable look he assumed when thinking hard. Minerva suppressed a slight smile. He was obviously itching to find out what she wanted of him.

'So, what is it?' he demanded.

Minerva swallowed her retort about rudeness and took her time folding back the cuffs of her robe before answering.

'As you know, Severus, you have been residing at Hogwarts for the last eight months, or so...'

He interrupted. 'I did not, at any time, use any school resources, and the only utility that I availed myself of was the occasional use of water.'

Minerva chose not to share her views on that particular subject. 'Yes, well, although that may be the case, since you refuse to teach, I am entitled, as Hogwarts' Headmistress to collect reasonable recompense...'

'I can't give you any money.'

'...collect reasonable recompense for your room and the use of water in any manner that I deem appropriate.' She glared at him, daring him to interrupt again, but it seemed that he would wait to fight another battle. 'As it happens, a task that I deem you suitable for has recently been brought to my attention. Should you see it through to completion, I will waive the twenty Galleon...'

'Twenty Galleons per year?'

'Twenty Galleons per week – minus food and most utilities – ten Galleons per week that you owe Hogwarts. I would also be willing to waive your expenses for another year after you return from completing the task.'

At the mention of twenty Galleons for what he thought was the year, Severus' eyes had temporarily lit up with eagerness, only to darken and dull as he calculated how much he already owed Hogwarts.

'Just tell me what you want me to do.'

Somewhat alarmed by his defeatist attitude, given that the former Severus would never have given up without a fight, Minerva made one more attempt to lure him out of his shell. Even though she thought that any task would do him a world of good, she rather doubted that he was the man for the job she had in mind. Unfortunately he was just about the only available person who might just be able to be coerced into doing it.

'You really should consider going home, Severus. If you were to leave, I could probably rework the school's budget and simply write off your existing debt. Why not leave and start afresh?'

The look of pure loathing that twisted his face made Minerva unconsciously lean back into her chair.

'I am never going back to that... that house,' he spat, white-knuckled fingers desperately clutching the edge of the table.

Minerva knew better than to offer him any pity. 'Very well, then,' she said, back to her usual brisk tone. 'Your task is to escort Hermione Granger to Australia. You will assist her in her efforts to locate her parents and restore their memories if or when you find them. As I understand it, she sent them there before she went on the run with Mr Weasley and Mr Potter.'

'I beg your pardon?'

Neither Severus' icy tone, nor his furious gaze had any effect on Minerva. She countered his glare with a rather pointed one of her own.

'Don't make me repeat myself, Severus. I was very clear the first time.'

'And what,' he asked tightly, 'could the little know-it-all possibly need my help with? Assuming she has expressed a desire for assistance, what makes you think that mine will be welcome? Surely one of her usual sidekicks – Potter, perhaps, or Weasley – would be better suited to the job.'

Minerva felt her anger surge, boiling up and spilling over. 'You will listen to me, Severus Snape, without interruptions, and you will keep a civil tongue in your head, or Merlin help me, I will bind and gag you. While you shut yourself in your rooms and squandered your life and freedom in a manner that I find both disgusting and disappointing, the rest of the wizarding world has begun the painful process of moving on. Many things have happened, all of which you seem to be totally ignorant of. So when I tell you that Hermione Granger is in need of assistance, you will keep your unpleasant thoughts to yourself and accept my words as truth. Do you understand?'

Severus flinched and averted his eyes but said nothing.

Minerva inhaled deeply. Control. She did possess it. Normally. She continued more calmly, 'It is common knowledge that Hermione Granger has been ill for some time. What is less well known is that she was diagnosed some months ago with Belby's disease. Although her physical condition is more or less stable, her magic is still exceedingly weak. She is presently living at Grimmauld Place and has communicated to her friends a desire to locate her parents. I believe she feels somewhat guilty that her illness has prevented her from seeking them out earlier. However, the Healers will only clear her to leave Britain if she is accompanied at all times by a witch or wizard with at least a mediwizard Level V certificate. Unfortunately St Mungo's cannot spare an employee for the length of time this might take, and none of Hermione's friends even have NEWTs to their name, let alone higher qualifications.'

By the end of this explanation, Minerva was pleased to see that much of Severus' animosity had evaporated. Belby's disease was rare, unpleasant and incurable. It was the lupus of the wizarding world, but worse because it attacked the core of a witch or wizard's identity: their magic.

'Miss Granger developed Belby's disease?' he asked slowly, as if testing new words on his tongue.

She sighed. 'Unfortunately, yes.' Not wanting to dwell on a tragedy she was still coming to terms with herself, she added, 'Assuming that you agree to go with Hermione, your expenses will be paid by Mr Potter. Harry deeply regrets that he isn't qualified to accompany Hermione himself. Therefore, he has generously offered his financial services for Hermione's companion.'

'I don't want Potter's money.'

Minerva tried to suppress a certain smugness. Her fish was hooked, it seemed. Seeing resolution practically stamped across Severus' face, she raised an eyebrow at him. She knew that he could not have much money tucked away.

He looked uncomfortable, shifting slightly in his seat as he fixed his gaze on the table. 'As you so kindly reminded me, I have a house. I'll sell what is left of Spinner's End and have the rest of my things moved to Hogwarts while I make travel arrangements with the Healers and the Ministry. Even if the house doesn't sell for much, I already have enough for a couple of months, in any case. Does Miss Granger have any idea where to begin her search?'

'I am afraid that you will have to discuss that with Miss Granger, Severus. Last I heard from her, she was still insisting that she would be able to go alone. I will send her an owl as soon as we get back to Hogwarts, and we can proceed from there. I can make your travel arrangements with the Ministry, if nothing else. A good friend of mine works for the Department of Magical Transportation. Would you be ready to leave after Christmas?'

Obviously lost in thought, with a strangely bewildered expression on his face, Severus nodded. But Minerva wasn't finished; she ploughed through and interrupted his internal melee.

'I know that you did not particularly enjoy teaching Hermione when she was at Hogwarts, Severus, but I would encourage you to forget what you know of her and start anew. She is not the girl that she was.'

Sadness gripped Minerva. She knew that she spoke no more than the truth. Except for voicing this desire to see her parents, Hermione had been alarmingly passive and despondent even after her health had started to improve again due to the complex medical cocktail she received from St Mungo's. Minerva thought that in addition to the love, kindness and caring that a reunion with her parents would hopefully supply, the girl needed a swift, hard smack to make her realise that her life was not over. Of course, Hermione would now have to work with more stringent physical and magical limitations than she had been accustomed to, but whenever Minerva had attempted to discuss such options with her, Hermione had always changed the subject. While Minerva had been happy to be harsh with Severus to get him moving, she did not have the heart to take the same hard line with one of her all-time favourite students.

As she sipped on her soup, Minerva mused on the wisdom of sending a clearly troubled, pardoned ex-murderer alone with a magical invalid to the other side of the world. However, she quickly quashed her misgivings. She had high hopes that forced into each other's company, neither Severus nor Hermione would be able to drown in their own self-pity. For all his other faults, Severus had always managed to hold himself together well enough to discharge his responsibilities. Hermione could definitely learn a thing or two about perseverance from her former teacher.

Totally unaffected by her companion's total silence, Minerva thoroughly enjoyed the rest of lunch and walked back up to the castle with a spring in her step.

It was not every day that she successfully managed to kill two birds with one stone.

Many thanks to my beta, JunoMagic.