Seven: A Mirror and a Massage

Chapter Seven: A Mirror and a Massage

Severus left the suite; as he approached the narrow staircase leading to the seventh floor corridor – the only apparent exit from this peculiar corner of the castle – he remembered that he could have and, perhaps, should have, taken the Floo from his bedroom. Albus had explained to him that the sitting room Floo was connected only to the Headmaster's office, but the Floo in his temporary bedroom was connected to both his Defence Against Dark Arts office and his own sitting room in the dungeons. Although Albus didn't say whether the fireplace in the other bedroom was connected to the castle's internal Floo-Network, Severus presumed it was connected either to the Headmaster's office or to his personal suite – and perhaps also to Minerva's sitting room. Now, though, he would have to make his way through the castle, no doubt meeting dunces wandering around out of their common rooms.

As he walked to the great staircase that would bring him down to the main part of the castle, a large figure approached him. At least it wasn't a student, Severus thought with a sigh.

"'Lo, there, Perfesser Snape. Do yeh know how Perfesser McGonagall is doin'? I was down t' infirmary earlier, but I 'ad t' shoo a few Gryffindors back t' Tower. I been keepin' an eye on 'em since. Can't 'ave 'em disturbin' the Deputy Headmistress, now. But I di'n' get word on how she was doin'."

"Madam Pomfrey has stabilised her, Hagrid. It is good of you to ask after her and look to her students for her. I am sure she will be grateful." Severus almost bit his tongue. Could he say anything more out of character? Hagrid, his eyes filling with tears, didn't seem to notice, though.

"She's a great lady, a great witch, Perfesser. She's done me more'n one favour in me life. 'Tis the least I can do fer 'er. An' you, Perfesser! Yeh were righ' wonderful with 'er, carryin' 'er like yeh did. I wish I'da been closer; I'da helped yeh."

Severus stiffened. "There was no need for that, Hagrid. I had her."

"I know yeh did. An' the way she was thrashin' abou', couldn'ta been easy."

Remembering Minerva's convulsions, Severus gritted his teeth. "She's in good hands, now, Hagrid. If you will excuse me, I must check on my own House." It was highly unlikely that they would be hanging about outside the infirmary as the Gryffindors had done, but they could be up to something else, assuming that everyone's attention was so diverted they could get away with something.

After a few more sentimental words from Hagrid, accompanied by a bone-jarring thump on the back, Severus walked quickly down the stairs, which co-operated with him, for once. He stopped to admonish two Ravenclaws to return to their common room, taking two points apiece simply because he could – it wasn't as though the students were under quarantine, after all, and it wasn't yet curfew, but he had to maintain some normality – and he quickly reached the dungeons and Slytherin House. The students were suspiciously quiet. He glared sternly and reminded them that he would be keeping an eye on them. A first-year came up and shyly asked him how Professor McGonagall was, and Severus gave her the same answer he had given Hagrid. She just stood there a moment, thinking, then she asked him if he was going to get sick now, too, because he had been carrying her. With a raised eyebrow, Severus told the girl that Madam Pomfrey had tested him and given him a clean bill of health, and he was surprised at the clear look of relief that crossed the girl's face as she said, "That's good. Blaise said you can die from what she got – and it looked awful!"

Nonplussed by the girl's remark, Severus cast a forbidding look at the other students before leaving for his own rooms. There was nothing he wanted from his office, he realised, as he couldn't concentrate long enough to grade papers. He could just leave them for Lupin. The thought of leaving work for Lupin did not cheer him as he supposed it should.

Severus looked around his sitting room. There wasn't anything there that he wanted, either. All he really wanted was to be with Minerva, return to her, reassure himself that she was well. He swallowed hard as he remembered why it was that all he wanted was to spend time with her. Had he ever thought of her like that before he had been struck by the Adfectus? It was difficult to remember, precisely. It was as though the pre-spell Severus had been a different person, although that was an absurd thought. He knew the Adfectus only freed his responses, pulling them to the surface; it didn't make him a different person. It simply overwhelmed everything else in his life and his personality.

Take Lupin, for example. He should be furious with the Headmaster for even suggesting that the werewolf take his classes in his absence; instead, he practically welcomed the beast with open arms. But . . . perhaps that was the correct response, and his typical response, the one conditioned by years of resentment, hatred, and fear – Severus shook his head in puzzlement as he realised that fear was a good part of his difficulty with the former Marauder – that his usual response was the one that was . . . what? Maladaptive? Furrowing his brow, he decided that he couldn't really say. He would ask Minerva. She would know, and he sighed with some relief at that thought.

Severus entered his bedroom and pulled a small, tattered canvas bag from the bottom of his wardrobe. He proceeded to stuff it with underwear and socks. Nightshirt or pyjamas? He didn't like pyjamas particularly, but they were more covering, and he didn't want to discomfit Minerva anymore than he had to. He shoved his one pair of pyjamas into the bag. His favourite terry cloth robe was too bulky to fit, and he didn't think he could manage any shrinking charms – he'd probably end up shredding his clothes or something, like a pathetic first-year – so he packed a robe that Albus had given him on his birthday a few years before, but which he had rarely worn. It was a light-weight, Slytherin-green silk with silver trim. Severus felt of the soft material as he placed in the bag. It was too good for him, he thought. That was why he seldom wore it. He had never articulated it before, but it was too good for him, both as an article of clothing and as a gift from Albus. Albus was the only person who ever marked his birthday; he persisted year after year. Severus didn't even know when the Headmaster's birthday was. He would find out from Minerva and get him something for his next birthday. Something nice. She could help him pick it out.

He hummed as he stuffed a few more essentials into the small bag. Slippers. One black under-robe and one black over-robe. A shirt. A pair of trousers. Belt and braces. Minerva was unlikely to dangle him upside-down by his ankles or use a spell to pull down his trousers in front of everyone in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall, but one could never be too careful. The house-elf could bring him another clean change of clothes if he needed it. Whispy, or Woopsy, or whatever her name was. The bathroom off his temporary bedroom, he had noticed, was well-stocked with shampoo, toothpaste, razor, and shaving soap and shaving brush, all of much better quality than his own. He added only a comb and his toothbrush.

It was good that he could Floo back to the suite. The over-stuffed bag wouldn't zip closed; he couldn't be seen walking the halls with it. All their secret plans would be for naught. Severus felt tired and slightly muzzy-headed, but the imperative wasn't yet strong. There was no reason to stay here, though. He wished he could bring Minerva a present. She seemed to like the flowers. Perhaps tomorrow he could go pick her some more . . . or perhaps candy. But he could never make it to Honeydukes and back. He would end up going mad in pursuit of a box of chocolates. Even in his current condition, that struck him as amusing, and one corner of his mouth quirked up briefly. Might as well return to the suite. Return to Minerva. A true smile crossed his face at that thought, and he strode over to the fireplace. What did Albus say was the password to the suite? Credo et expecto. "I believe and anticipate"? Occasionally, the Headmaster was a dotty old wizard . . .

Severus stepped through the fireplace into his temporary living quarters and tossed his bag on the bed. Now to see Minerva. There was no one in the sitting room, but he could hear Albus's voice coming from the other bedroom. They must both be there; he crossed the room, prepared to knock on the partially-opened door when he heard a gasp and a moan that sounded as though it came from Minerva. He heard a squelching sound and another moan. He was sure that Albus wasn't hurting her. He wouldn't – would he? One hesitant step toward the open door – Severus peered through. In the mirror, he saw his beloved Minerva lying across the bed, legs spread, and Albus . . . Severus thought he would be ill as he watched Albus hold Minerva down as he thrust his fingers in and out of her. Then he did the unthinkable. He withdrew his fingers from her and he brought them to his mouth – and it looked as though he liked it! Albus said something very peculiar about consistency and quality. Did he put Minerva through some sort of bizarre, perverse testing? And now, oh, gods, Severus couldn't watch but he couldn't tear his eyes from the mirror as he saw Albus begin to lick and suck at Minerva's most private parts. Severus closed his eyes. He had heard that witches actually liked having that done to them, but he had always thought that only a depraved or brow-beaten wizard would willingly perform such an act. It sounded completely revolting to him. But then . . . he had never thought of it in any context but that of the Knockturn Alley whores he paid to give him pleasure – or Bella, back when he was young, before she'd married the pureblood LeStrange. She'd had a few perverse desires, Severus thought, but he'd never done that to her.

Severus opened his eyes again. He backed away. Now he felt ill. Albus had every right to be in there with Minerva. He had no right to do anything about it, yet he wanted to rush in and tear him from her body, to tell him that Minerva is a goddess and should be treated as such. He stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed on it. And Albus was so . . . so . . . so old. Severus knew that he and Minerva must engage in such activities – he had overheard a bit of it that very morning, which is why he had fled Minerva's rooms. He hadn't been able bear the thought of anyone but him touching her, which was at war with his desire for her to be happy, and if "taking a shower" with Albus made her happy . . . The imperative had torn him apart that morning when he'd knocked on the bedroom door and stepped in to talk to Albus, thinking that if Minerva were taking a shower, Albus must be out of the bathroom. He had only heard vague thunking and moans, but he knew what they meant, and had high-tailed it from the castle, practically running down to the gardens before the imperative allowed him to slow down. He had been tormented by the contradictory desires to have Minerva be happy and yet to be the only one to hold her, to touch her, and to bring her pleasure. The torment was that much worse now as he lay on the sofa and listened as Minerva cried out Albus's name.

It was quiet for a moment, then he heard their voices again, too softly for him to make out what was being said. Perhaps they were through. He should go into his room so they wouldn't find him here when they emerged from their bedroom. Severus sat up, but then he heard more moans. Gods, couldn't they stop? Albus was moaning . . . or saying something. There was a wet sound and more moans. It was quieter. Maybe they were through. But no, now they were both at it. Severus was now suffering from a new difficulty. He no longer felt sick; he felt aroused. He could bear it no longer and fled the room as quickly and quietly as he could, taking care to close his bedroom door behind him – softly, though he doubted they would notice if a marauding hippogriff ran through.

Severus pressed his palm against his erection. His mind fuzzier than ever, he stripped off his robes, then his shoes, shirt and trousers, leaving them littered across the room as he headed toward the bathroom. A cold shower. Yes, a cold shower. That was what would help. He shed his socks and underwear on the tile floor and turned on the shower's cold water. Severus stepped under the harsh stream and yelped when the icy water struck his unprepared body. Within a short time, his problem had subsided, and he adjusted the water so that it was merely tepid. Shivering, he took the opportunity to wash himself, although he paid less attention to his genitals than usual, worried that he might stimulate himself. He could not have Minerva noticing anything like that. He would have to see her soon; the imperative was growing stronger. He did not want her to be uncomfortable with him – more uncomfortable than she already was. He had been quite aroused when he was with her earlier, when he had kissed her breasts, but she surely hadn't noticed . . . had she? He turned the cold water back up and finished his shower.

After drying himself off with a fluffy white towel, Severus was shaking, and not from the cold. He desperately needed to see Minerva. He began pulling his clothes from his bag, scattering them on the bed as he found his pyjamas and robe. He put his dressing gown on inside out, but realised it when he couldn't find the belt tie and managed to get it back on right way around. He shucked on his slippers. Now what? Should he go into the sitting room? But what if they were still in the bedroom? What if they had forgotten all about him and were still . . . doing that?

He would just have to wait here for them to come find him. But he would open his door first so they might think of him when they finally entered the sitting room.

In the bedroom, Minerva snuggled against Albus. "I suppose we should get up," she said.

"Mmm. Severus will be back soon. I should check on the state of the Houses and make an appearance in the Hospital Wing. And you, my dear, should get ready for bed. You have had an extremely long day with a very difficult ordeal this evening."

"Poppy said you should drink more tonight. She recommended tonic water for us both, Albus. I am still amazed that you took the potion. You could have hurt yourself – especially your hand!"

"I am fine. And Poppy immobilized my entire right arm before letting me take the potion. Of course, the muscles still contracted, but I didn't hit my hand against anything, so I am fine."

"Hmmpf. You are a foolish wizard sometimes, Albus, but I love you anyway!" She grinned and tugged his beard lightly before kissing him and getting up. "I think I will clean up and get ready for bed. You could go wait for Severus and let me know when he gets back."

"All right, my dear. I will just wash up a bit, first. I think we still have a little time."

A few minutes later, Albus walked out to the sitting room. He looked at the closed bedroom door. Had it been closed earlier? He stepped back into the bedroom and called out to Minerva, who stuck her head out of the bathroom.

"Minerva, do you remember whether the guest room door was open or closed when you came in?"

"Umm, open, I think. Yes. Open. Severus was standing in the doorway, remember? Then he left."

"It's closed now."

"Oh. Oh! He must be back. If he closed the door . . . oh, Albus, I didn't shut the bedroom door. He was gone. I didn't think he would be back." A pained look crossed her face as she thought of what Severus may have overheard.

"I suppose that is why Severus closed his door. He was trying to be discreet. Do not worry. He probably heard something after he Flooed back, and then closed his door right away."

"This is all so uncomfortable, Albus. I am not used to sharing our rooms with anyone else who can just come and go." She sighed. "Well, perhaps you should check on him. I will finish getting ready for bed – are you staying, I hope?"

"Yes, my dear, for tonight, at least. I'll go find Severus."

He walked into the sitting room just as Severus opened the bedroom door. His hair was quite wet and the collar of his dressing gown was turned in.

"Severus, my boy! You're back! And ready for bed."

"Yes," came the croaked reply.

"Would you like some help drying your hair?"

Severus just looked at him quizzically for a moment before comprehension crossed his face. "No, that's all right, Headmaster. I'm just going to lie down for a bit."

"You aren't looking well, Severus." Indeed, he didn't. He was grey and his hands were trembling. "Let me fetch Minerva."

"No, no, that's not necessary. I will wait for her. Just need to lie down . . ." He stumbled back into the bedroom as Albus followed him. Severus lay down on his bed, heedless of the clothes scattered on it.

"I am fetching Minerva. You just sit tight, Severus."

His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow, but he nodded in response. A minute later, Minerva was there, sitting beside him, holding his hand.

"I'll help you with your . . . unpacking, Severus," she said, looking around her at the clothing strewn across his bed.

"You don't need to, Minerva," Severus responded, holding her hand to his mouth and kissing it. "Oh, Minerva, you look so beautiful." He reached up and ran his fingers through her loose hair.

"I was getting ready for bed when Albus came and told me you were back. I see you have done that, as well, Severus." She straightened the collar of his dressing gown. "You should dry your hair, though. Here, let me." She took her wand from her bathrobe pocket. "Come, sit up. There we go." She pointed her wand at his head, and he felt a strong jet of warm air flow over his hair. Within seconds, it was dry.

"Thank you, Minerva, my love."

"You're welcome, Severus. How are you feeling? You are looking a little poorly."

"I need you so much, Minerva," he said softly, lowering his eyes. "I can't help myself."

"I know, dear, I know." She patted his shoulder. "We have some time now. Albus has gone to make an appearance in the infirmary, supposedly to check on the state of my health, then he will look in on each of the Houses."

Severus just nodded and held her hand.

"Severus, you really don't look well. Don't you want to . . . do something?"

He nodded. "But it's no use. No use. Just leave me." He choked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. Come, let's lie down for a while, hmm?" Minerva looked around at the scattered underwear and other clothes. She shook her head and waved her wand. Severus's clothes flew to the dresser and neatly folded themselves on top of it. "You can put it all away later. Oh, you're sitting on something." She tugged at the black robe and pulled it out from under him. She tsked at the wrinkled garment and sent it to hang itself in the wardrobe.

"I don't normally use spells for such things. It makes one lazy, I think, but it is handy to know a few," she said with a gentle smile. "Now, let's settle down for a bit."

Minerva urged Severus to lie back on the bed. She lifted his legs and swung them around so that he was lying lengthwise, then she pulled a pillow over, lifted his head, and placed the pillow under it. "You were very good to me in the infirmary, Severus. It was comforting."

His eyes filled with tears. "No, I wasn't. I was a burden. All I did was cry all over you. And if it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have been there. I was the cause of your pain, Minerva. Oh, gods, let me die, please!" He turned his face into the pillow to hide his tears.

"Sh, sh." She stroked his hair. "You were happy to help me, and I am happy to help you. That's what friendship is about, Severus. Now scoot over and make me some room there."

Despite himself, Severus rolled over and made room for Minerva to lie beside him. She settled down beside him. "How is this, Severus? Can you act on the imperative now?"

"I don't know . . . I do not want to hurt you, Minerva."

"You won't. I will stop you as I always have. And if you ever begin to hurt me, I will tell you. We need to get you through tonight and then get up early tomorrow and work out a plan for the day."

He reached out and carded his fingers through her hair. "You have such beautiful hair. You always wear it up."

"Usually, yes."

Severus continued to comb his fingers through her hair. "Dark and beautiful. Just as in the poem I read you. I can remember some of it, Minerva: 'Of thy dark hair that extends / Into many graceful bends: / As the leaves of Hellebore / Turn to whence they sprung before.' I remember because of 'Hellebore.' Can you save me from madness, as the wizard Melampus saved the daughters of Proetus?"

"He used Hellebore, didn't he? . . . I had forgotten that story." She caressed his face briefly. "I will save you, Severus, though I am not as powerful as Melampus."

"Albus is." He rested his hand on her shoulder, gently rubbing the side of her neck with his thumb.

"Yes, he is . . . more so, I think."

"I am not. Especially not now. I am weaker, Minerva. I do not know how I will teach tomorrow." His voice was low and dispirited.

"We will work out any problems in the morning. I have a few ideas that may help." She paused as Severus began to stroke her arm. "Albus has told me that you are one of the most powerfully magic wizards he has encountered, Severus. And you are extremely intelligent. If it weren't for that lunatic, you could have had quite a brilliant career in Potions, instead of having to either hide your creations or pervert your talents to his use."

Severus winced. "Of course. You know about that work. I don't do my best work for him, Minerva, honestly I don't."

"I know. But I believe you do do your best work for Albus. You saved his life this summer."

That statement seemed to disturb the wizard more.

"I can see you don't want to talk about this. It's all right, Severus." She patted his side.

Severus took her hand and kissed it, then looked into her eyes. "I don't remember anymore whether I knew how remarkable you are, Minerva. But I must have, or I would not love you." He leaned forward to kiss her, and she turned her cheek to him. He took her in his arms and embraced her. "You have been so concerned about my well-being, my love, and you have not told me how you are feeling," he whispered.

"I am a little sore, to be honest, but not badly so. I am sure I will feel better in the morning."

When Severus suddenly pushed himself away from her, Minerva was concerned that she had said something that had bothered him, but he was smiling and his eyes glowed. "I can help with that, Minerva. I will be right back! Wait for me!"

Minerva scarcely had time to blink before he was gone, Flooing to his rooms. She sat up and stretched. She had actually felt somewhat better when she had been in her Animagus form, so after a moment's consideration, she transformed. She leapt from the bed and padded into the sitting room where she jumped up onto the couch and stretched out. It was a creamy colour – not the one that had been here when she was a student – and would surely pick up her dark fur.

She hadn't paid much attentions to the furnishings in Albus's bedroom – she had been too distracted by his attentions. She had never been in there before that night and wondered whether they were as they had been all those years ago. The guest room was as she remembered it, although the large bookcases that had covered the windows were gone, as were the piles of parchments and books that had been stacked against the walls. That all would have been moved to the Headmaster's suite over forty years ago. Other than that, it seemed unchanged to her.

It had been odd to be in the guest room with Severus. Minerva had felt somehow out-of-time in there. She hadn't been in that room for more than fifty years. Out-of-time and out-of-place in an unplottable and impossible room in the centre of Gryffindor Tower. Most peculiar . . .

She was still musing on the peculiarities of her situation when the largest peculiarity of all stepped into the room.

"There you are, Minerva! I was worried when you weren't there."

Minerva transformed to her ordinary form with a whispered pop. "I didn't consider that coming out here was going somewhere else, Severus. What have you got there?" she asked, motioning to the flask and jar in his hands.

"Ah! Gifts for you, Minerva! It's not flowers or anything romantic, I'm afraid," he said, looking worried that she would be displeased with his offerings.

"What are they?"

"This is the same potion you had this morning. You can take a smaller dose tonight before you sleep – you could share it with Albus, if you like; there's a lot there. And this," he said, holding up the jar proudly, "this is your main gift. It is a potion much like the one you took, but it is for external use. I thought I could rub some into your muscles, help you to recover more quickly." He looked very pleased with himself.

Minerva didn't know what to say. The idea in-and-of itself was a good one – and it was an offer that she might even ordinarily accept from Severus if he weren't . . . in love with her, particularly under the influence of this spell. A massage – of only particular areas, of course – could be quite nice, even coming from a friend. A full massage, though, she reserved for Albus or, for medicinal purposes, Poppy or another mediwitch.

"That is very thoughtful, Severus," she said, before Severus could notice her hesitation. "Umm. I think perhaps my neck is the sorest. And my calves. Those muscles got quite a work-out!" she said brightly, hoping he wouldn't see that she was reluctant

"All right, then! Do you want to stay here or go to the bedroom?"

"Here, I think, Severus. This sofa is very large, and I can Transfigure it to eliminate the back, if you think it's necessary."

"No, no, this is fine." He was so pleased with his idea that he didn't seem to notice that Minerva had any reluctance.

Minerva sat back against the sofa as Severus moved around behind her. "Just a minute, Minerva. This potion can be quite staining, although I am sure the house-elves could clean it, best not to make a mess!" He patted her shoulder and hurried back into his bedroom, reemerging a moment later with a towel, which he place behind her.

"Now, your hair. It is beautiful down, but I need to move it aside."

With a practised move, Minerva waved her wand and her hair was up in a loose bun.

"Oh! Good! That was very clever, Minerva."

She wanted to laugh. How many years had she put her hair up like that?

Severus rolled the collar of her dressing gown down. "Minerva? Can you move your nightgown a bit?"

With some unease, Minerva pulled her arms from the sleeves of the dressing gown, then unbuttoned the top few buttons of her nightgown, allowing Severus to move it aside a bit.

Minerva could hear him open the jar and a pungent aroma filled the room. It was peculiar, but not unpleasant. At his first gentle touch she felt a warmth spreading from the potion. Severus began to gently massage a small amount of the thick potion into her neck. She let her head fall forward a bit. Ah, it was a nice sensation. Her sore muscles felt better already. His hands moved to her trapezius muscles, and Minerva sighed as he rubbed more potion into them.

"Would you like me to do your shoulders, too, Minerva?"

Minerva hesitated only a moment before she unbuttoned one more button and lowered her nightgown down around her upper arms. She held her nightgown closed in front of her as Severus's hands massaged her shoulders, first lightly, then with a bit more pressure. Occasionally, he would stop and feel her muscle gently, find a spot, and apply targeted pressure to it. At her sharp intake of breath the first time he did this, he withdrew his hand and exclaimed, "Did I hurt you? I should have told you it might hurt a little when I did that. I'm so sorry!"

"No, it was fine, Severus. Go ahead. It was only unexpected."

When he finished massaging her neck and shoulders, he came around and sat beside her on the couch. "I could do your arms now, if you like."

Minerva had already pulled her nightgown back up. She buttoned it, then offered him an arm. He gently and carefully massaged the potion into her left arm, then moved to sit at her other side to massage her right one. "I don't want you to move more than you must, my darling." Minerva watched his face as he concentrated on massaging the potion into her skin. He looked so at peace, more so than she had ever seen him, she thought. He actually looked younger – more his actual age than usual.

As he finished her right arm, the Floo flashed with green sparks and Albus stepped through. He smiled. "I am glad to find that all is well here and am happy to report that all is well in the rest of the castle."

Minerva, who had briefly forgotten that she was still in the castle, so odd was this experience, quirked a slight smile before asking, "And how is the deathly ill Transfiguration mistress?"

"Holding her own, as Poppy informed me," Albus said with a twinkle. "It may be touch-and-go for a few days. But I see that you have been well cared for in my absence."

"Yes, Severus kindly retrieved a potion from his rooms. He was giving me a massage – my neck and shoulders feel much better for it. He had just finished my arms. I am feeling quite sleepy and ready for bed now!" She smiled, hoping that Albus wasn't bothered by Severus's attentions to her.

He smiled broadly, though, and said, "Thank you, Severus. Now I have a potion for you! It will help you sleep. It's not Dreamless Sleep, as that clearly was ineffective and you can't take it more than once a night. This potion you can take a second time if you wake up in the middle of the night. It does have a good deal of Kava and Poppy, so it will be anything but a dreamless sleep, I'm afraid, but I lowered the amount of Valerian and a few other ingredients, so you should be able to wake up easily if you have a nightmare."

"Albus, you know that I don't like to dream . . ."

"You don't dream?" Minerva asked, eyebrows raised.

"I practice Occlumency every night before I go to sleep. I rarely ever dream anymore."

"That's not healthy, Severus!"

"It's healthier than never sleeping, though, my love. Do not worry about me." He patted her hand.

"We will discuss this at some other time, Severus," the witch said with a stern glare. "No wonder you can barely be civil at times!"

"That's just my nasty personality, Minerva." He gave her hand another pat.

"Hmmpf. We will talk!" She turned to Albus. "I am going to bed now, Albus. Feel free to come in at any time."

"Very good, my dear – I think we should leave the doors open tonight so that we can hear Severus if he needs us and so that he can come in at any time."

"Fine. Good-night, Severus," she said, turning to the younger wizard. "Thank you for the massage. It was lovely." She kissed his cheek before standing and going over to Albus. She took his hand and squeezed it. "I will see you shortly, won't I?"

"Yes, my love. I just need to speak with Severus for a moment." He leaned forward and pecked her on the lips as she raised her hand to caress his face.

Shortly after Minerva had crawled into bed, Wilspy popped in with a tray with two tall glasses. "Professor Snape says Professor Minerva and the Professor Headmaster must drink tonic water. I brings tonic water."

"Well, thank you, Wilspy. When did he tell you that?" Minerva was puzzled.

"Just now. Professor Snape calls and I comes. The Professor Headmaster told me I is to come when Professor Snape calls me while he is here. Or if he needs me anywhere else in the next two days. He calls me 'Woopsy,' but I knows he means me."

"I'll try to get him to remember your name. He's not himself right now."

"I knows. He's being nice." Wilspy frowned, looking as though she didn't approve of a "nice" Professor Snape.

Minerva laughed. She had known Wilspy since she was a student and had come to appreciate the unusual Dumbledore house-elf. "Well, it won't last long, Wilspy. Don't worry. I rather like certain aspects of the 'new' Professor Snape, although I look forward to things returning to normal soon."

Wilspy settled the tray on the bedside table next to Minerva.

"Good-night, Professor Dumbledore's Professor Minerva!"

"Good-night, Wilspy." Minerva smiled as Wilspy popped away. She had never been able to completely break Wilspy of the habit of addressing her by that long circumlocution. She would always be identified as belonging to Professor Dumbledore, as far as Wilspy was concerned, and that was fine with Minerva.

She sipped some of the tonic water. What could Albus be talking to Severus about? He would tell her, she was sure. It was kind of Severus to call Wilspy and ask for the tonic water for both of them. As the Adfectus deepened its hold on him, it seemed to break down more of his barriers. His cognitive abilities were in decline, although they seemed to come and go, depending on how strongly the imperative was expressing itself at the time. And it was good of him to go fetch the potions for her. She had left them in the sitting room, but perhaps Albus would bring them in with him. He really needed to take better care of himself. She had struggled for years to get him to do that, and he seemed to be worse about it in the last few years than he ever had been before. The situation with Voldemort and Harry Potter was a terrible strain on him; he felt such responsibility for everything. Minerva had told him time and time again that he was just one man and that he shouldn't become so upset with himself when he failed to be perfect. He did the best he could, which was better than anyone else could – or did – do.

Albus came in, Levitating the two potions. It was fortunate for him that his magic was as strong as it was; he was using it more for simple physical tasks than she had ever seen him do in the entire time she knew him. Of course, if he hadn't been as strong as he was, he never would have been in the position to have his hand cursed as it was – or else it would have killed him. Minerva swallowed her tears at that thought and smiled at him, instead. "I see you have our potions! Severus said I could share with you."

"That was very good of him, Minerva." He settled the potions on the night stand on his side of the bed. He slipped off his shoes and lay beside Minerva, but without getting under the covers. "It was especially good of him because –" He hesitated.

"Because what?"

"It appears he didn't simply hear a few tell-tale sounds after Flooing in, my dear." He looked at her, judging her reaction to his words. "He actually . . . he didn't realise at first what was happening. The door was open. He saw us in the mirror."

Minerva blanched then reddened. "What?" she asked, her voice tight. "Did he tell you this? Did he stand there and watch us?" Minerva could only imagine what his reaction must have been – did he stand there and . . . pleasure himself while watching them? She felt vaguely nauseated and set her tonic water back on its tray. She had let him touch her again after that. What had been going through his head?

Albus cast an Imperturbable. "No, not exactly. He didn't tell me the details, but . . . I shouldn't have, Minerva, but I eavesdropped some – not full Legilimency. And after this is all over, I will tell him and apologise. His Occlumency shields are practically non-existent. As we were talking, he was practically projecting his thoughts at me. He had found it quite disturbing to see, actually. It was inadvertent that he saw us, and it was uncomfortable for him on a number of levels. I didn't pry into that, though. What he told me, when I asked him, was that he had come in, he thought we were just talking, and so he walked up to the door. What he saw in the mirror shocked him. He actually said only that he had been 'unprepared' for what he saw, but from the anxiety and discomfort he was radiating, I think the term 'shock' is more apt."

"What did he see, Albus?" Minerva asked faintly.

"He came up to the door just before I began my after-dinner treat, so to speak. He didn't watch long. I think he only stood there for as long as he did because he was taken aback by what he saw."

"He's a grown wizard, Albus. How could he have been taken aback or shocked by it? Was it an effect of the spell?" Minerva was perturbed.

"Partially. I think he normally would have retreated as quickly as possible, if he weren't under the influence of the Adfectus. But that is only part of it. His sexual experience is rather limited and has been shaped by the relationships – or the lack of relationships – he has had. We didn't talk about it in detail, but I did tell him that what he saw was a normal part of many couples' love-making, that what a couple enjoyed doing with each other was a matter of personal preference, and that most couples engage in more than one type of sexual practice with each other. I do think we need to have more of a talk later, though. I think it's important that I emphasise the importance of adult consensual sex that brings pleasure to both parties – or that, at the very minimum, hurts neither of them." At Minerva's wide-eyed expression, he added, "It's not that he has no concept of mutual consent, my dear, or of the possibility of shared pleasure in a sexual tryst. It's more that he is emotionally stunted. And, as far as he is concerned, you are very nearly a goddess."

"So he didn't stand there and watch and take some kind of voyeuristic pleasure in it – with the two of us completely clueless. God, I wish I had closed the door! I was just so eager to see you."

"No, he didn't. The reason he was all wet is that he took a cold shower." Albus sighed. "I would almost prefer it if he had returned to his room for a good wank."

"Albus Dumbledore! What on earth!"

"I said almost, Minerva. It's just that that might have been a slightly more normal reaction to becoming aroused, that's all. He's a very confused young man."

"Lovely," Minerva groused. "It's bad enough he was hit by the Adfectus and it turns out that I'm his true love, but the boy is confused, emotionally stunted, and sexually unsophisticated. And possibly even repressed. Just lovely!"

"I am going to lift the Imperturbable in a moment, Minerva, but first, I would like to make a suggestion."

"What?" Minerva sighed.

"It's about the massage –"

"Did it bother you that I let him do that, Albus? I only allowed him to massage my neck, shoulders, and arms. And he seemed so glad to do it. And now that I'm reassured he wasn't imagining what he had seen earlier, I think it was a positive way for him to exercise the imperative."

"No, it didn't bother me. Quite the contrary. Especially now that I am unable to give you a proper massage – don't protest, Minerva; it's the truth. And Severus looked particularly relaxed, far better than I had anticipated after having seen him just before I left. No, I was going to suggest that you have him give you more massages."

"What? Why?"

"It will help both of you become more comfortable with each other. It will increase your sense of intimacy."

Minerva winced. "I don't particularly want to increase my 'sense of intimacy' with him, Albus."

"There are levels of intimacy, Minerva. If you do have to engage in sexual activity with him, I think you would be more comfortable with him if you had already become used to his touch, that's all I mean. It occurred to me as soon as I came in the room. You needn't use this suggestion, of course. It was just an idea, that's all. I also thought it might not be a bad thing if you also were to give him a brief massage or two, as well, but that is, again, just a suggestion for you to think about."

Just as Albus was about to lift the Imperturbable, Minerva said, "Wait. There's something I need to discuss with you before we lose our privacy again. It's something that I thought of this evening, as well. I just need your blessing, Albus." She hesitated.

"Yes?"

"It's not that I want to do this, you understand. It's just that under the circumstances . . . I suppose it's somewhat like your idea." She sighed. "I would like to have some control of the situation, as much as possible. I realised this evening that at some point, Severus is likely to kiss me." She looked at Albus. "I mean really kiss me."

"I know what you mean."

She took a deep breath, "Well, I think I would like to kiss him, first." Minerva looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "If you don't want me to –"

"No, no, Minerva. I think it is a fine idea. Eminently sensible, in fact. It will help you to have some control over the situation. I think it will also be more pleasant for you if you initiate it. And, of course, it might help Severus, as well. But my primary concern is you. Minerva, you must do whatever you need to do in order to feel good and comfortable in this bizarre situation. No matter what it is. Even if you wanted me to leave this minute. And you needn't ever explain why, or worry whether I will understand, or anything of that sort, all right?"

"No! I don't want you to leave – you aren't going to go yet, are you?" She reached out and took hold of his arm as though she were afraid he was about to depart at that very moment.

"No – not until I need to go teach your classes tomorrow." He smiled gently and caressed her face. "I have decided, by the way, to teach only the fifth, sixth, and seventh year classes; I hope you don't mind. The others will simply have to be caught up when you're back – but we can talk about that later. What is important now is that you know that you must do whatever you feel you need to do in this situation. Do you understand me, my love?"

"Yes. And I appreciate it. More than I could have two days ago, before reality had completely kicked in. I never would have dreamed on Friday night that I would say that I wanted to initiate a kiss with Severus. But I don't want to feel . . . used, like an object. Just waiting for him to take the next step. It's not enough anymore to simply stop Severus before he goes further than I wish. Can you understand that, Albus?"

"Completely. And you are not one to lie back and simply allow yourself to be used. You have been so remarkable patient and kind to Severus. I am very proud of you." He kissed her lightly. "You are more wonderful than Severus could ever know," he said slightly hoarsely, and kissed her again. "May I lift the Imperturbable now?"

"Yes, thank you. And it is you who are wonderful and remarkable. I hope that Severus has some appreciation of that."

"Don't hit him over the head with it, Minerva. He is fighting a good deal of envy right now, as it is. I don't want him to feel indebted to me. No more than he already does." Albus lifted the Imperturbable. "I am going to get ready for bed now."

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm sure I'll be fine. I'll let you know if I do, though."

"Be sure to take a dose of this potion, Albus. I'm not going to take mine until you take yours! And don't dally. You need to get more sleep tonight than you've been getting lately. I had several naps today, and you didn't. You need to take better care of yourself, Albus. If I have to, I'll send Wilspy after you tomorrow to make sure you take a nap!"

"Yes, Mother McGonagall!" Albus said with a chuckle, using the teasing term of affection he had begun using when she was still a student.

"Oh, hush, Albus!" But Minerva laughed, at ease at the end of a long and trying day.

Note: In case anyone is curious, Hellebore is a plant that contains poisonous alkaloids. It's also associated with magic, witchcraft, murder, suicide, and various dark arts.

Melampus of Pylos was a seer in Greek mythology. Two magical snakes licked his ears while he slept, endowing him with the ability to understand the speech of animals. The story that Severus and Minerva speak of comes from a Greek myth about Melampus.