Eight: Dreams and Dunderheads

Chapter Eight: Dreams and Dunderheads

Their sleep was interrupted by a bloodcurdling shriek followed by sobbing and shouts of, "No, no!"

Minerva was first out of bed. She was across the sitting room to Snape's room before Albus managed to sit up. She reflexively lit a candle in one of the wall sconces. Severus was tangled in his sheet, moaning, thrashing, and crying out in terror.

"Severus! Severus! Wake up! It's a dream; wake up! It's Minerva! Severus!" When he merely cried more loudly and shouted her name but without waking up, Minerva decided to risk his flailing limbs and reached out and shook his shoulder. By that time, Albus had come into the room. "Severus! It's Minerva. I'm here! I thought you said he would wake up easily, Albus?"

Albus said, "Perhaps more light would help." He lit the rest of the candles in the wall sconces.

Minerva took shook Severus again, trying to restrain his arms with one of her own. Just as she did that, Severus stopped struggling and opened his eyes. He moaned, then said, "Minerva? Minerva? Oh, you're here. You're all right!" He reached out and grasped her arms.

"Yes, I'm here, Severus. You were having a nightmare."

"It was dreadful. They had taken you, Minerva. I couldn't stop them, and they were doing terrible, awful things to you. It was just . . ." He began to cry with deep, heaving sobs.

"Sh, sh, Severus. I'm all right. I'm well. It was only a nightmare." She sat on the edge of the bed. She felt Albus put a hand on her shoulder before he kissed the top of her head. "I am going to go back to our room, if that's all right with you, Minerva," he said softly.

Minerva looked up and nodded. "I will be there soon, Albus."

"Take all the time you need, my dear. I will be there when you return."

Severus had let go of Minerva and turned his face into his pillow, stuffing the corner of it in his mouth as he tried to choke off his sobs. Minerva lay down beside him, pushing the sheets aside, and gently eased him from the pillow. "Come here, Severus. My shoulder is much better than that pillow – but you must promise not to bite!" she said lightly as she drew him into her arms. She held him and rocked him against her as his gulping sobs subsided, and she held him still as he ran out of tears.

"I'm so sorry, Minerva. So sorry."

"Don't be sorry, dear. Do you want to tell me about the dream?" She pushed his hair back from his face and gently wiped his tears from his cheeks with her hand.

"No. No. I can't. It was terrible, though. Like other nightmares I've had, but worse, because it was you this time." Tears began to well up in his eyes again.

"Well, as you can see, I am fine. I understand why you had the nightmare, though." She continued to hold him and gently rubbed his back as he rested his head on her. "When this is all over, you really should try lucid dreaming rather than using Occlumency before you go to sleep. You don't have anyone trying to break into your mind while you sleep, after all – and lucid dreaming would allow you to wake up if someone were to try. And I have a feeling you are overusing Occlumency when you are awake, as well. You are an excellent Occlumens, Severus. Albus says you are the best he has ever encountered, in fact. But you should broaden your range of practices. I think you are using Occlumency to suppress too much, too often. In the end, you have a rebound effect. I think it's even affecting your response to the Adfectus, since it seems you are so thoroughly emotionally affected by it, and not just with regard to your feelings for me. This is not unexpected, as you know, but it does seem to be stronger in your case than one would normally expect at this point."

"All right," he sighed. "I suppose I can try. Maybe you could help me?" he asked.

"If you would like my help, I will be glad to give it. I am not as talented an Occlumens as you are, but I have mastered several techniques that I think would help you. At the very least, I can listen to you and provide encouragement as you try different things."

"I don't think I have any Occlumency shields left, Minerva. I am completely open. If the Dark Lord were to call me now . . . I couldn't go. You'd lose your spy. If I went, he would see it all, every treachery I have committed against him and every plan we have made. It would be disastrous."

"Is he likely to call you soon?" Minerva tried not to let her alarm show.

"No. I think it will be another few weeks, at least. He's fairly predictable, although he is becoming less so. Still, I doubt he will call me during the week. And if word gets back to him that I've gone to Mongolia for Dumbledore, he definitely won't call me until I return. He will probably see such a mission as a sign that Albus is growing more trusting of me . . . He will hope that I have new information for him." Severus sighed. "Albus and I will have to work out what I will tell him the next time he calls me. There's always got to be truth mingled with plausible fictions. And I have to make the fiction indistinguishable from the truth when he looks into my mind."

"I think we should wait to think about those things – you should, anyway. Just devote your energy to dealing with the Adfectus, all right, Severus?"

He nodded. "Again, I recognise how very fortunate I have been that you are my true love, Minerva. I am sure that the opposite is true for you, though." He blinked back tears.

Minerva said, "I must say that it is still a surprise to me that I would be the one you love, and I wouldn't be truthful if I didn't admit that I wish I weren't in this situation, but I am glad I can help you, Severus, and that it wasn't some witch who would not care for you as you should be cared for."

"You are very kind, Minerva. So very kind and generous." He lay his head back on the pillow next to hers and faced her. "It is not just the spell speaking, Minerva, when I tell you that I can think of no other witch who can come close to comparing with you." He gently caressed her cheek. When she smiled slightly, he continued his caress down her throat to her chest. His tentative touch proceeded further down as he brushed lightly across her breast then down her side to her hip before moving his fingers to her arm in a gentle caress back up to her shoulder, her throat, and her cheek. "You are so beautiful, Minerva. And so good." He ran his fingers into her hair then rested his palm on her cheek.

"How are you feeling now, Severus?"

"Better. Not well, exactly, but better. You can go, if you need to."

"No, I can stay a while longer. I want you to be able to sleep peacefully when I leave. I will fetch you another dose of the sleeping potion before I go."

"All right, Minerva. As you like. But . . . may I . . ."

"What, Severus?"

"May I touch you again, as I just did?" he whispered.

"Yes, you may."

Severus half-closed his eyes as he blissfully ran his fingers down her throat and along her collarbone before lightly brushing his fingertips against her breast. "You are so beautiful, Minerva. Would you mind . . . may I tell you . . ."

"Yes?"

"Your breasts are lovely, Minerva," he whispered. Even in the candlelight, Minerva could see his blush.

"Thank you." What could one say to that?

When he had told her that her breasts were lovely, his fingers had paused, resting on the side of her breast. Now he tentatively caressed just the side of her breast, his eyes fixed on the object of his attention.

Minerva took his hand from her breast and kissed it. "That was very nice, Severus, but I think it's enough for me at the moment."

Severus nodded and turned onto his back, pulling away from her. He cleared his throat. "I am sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"Not yet, Severus," Minerva said, thinking, though, that she still wouldn't describe herself as precisely comfortable having him touch her breast. "Just trying to save something for later, hmm?"

He nodded.

"Would you like the potion now, or would you like to talk a bit longer? We could go into the sitting room for a little while, if you like."

"I don't know . . . I know I don't want to be parted from you, but I also want you to be able to sleep. And I am afraid of another nightmare."

"How about this: we get up, have a cup of chamomile tea together, talk a bit, then I'll stay with you when you take the potion and as you fall asleep. How does that sound?"

Severus smiled. "I'd like that. Thank you."

"All right. I am going to just let Albus know, if he is still awake, that you are all right, then we can call Wilspy and get some tea."

Sitting with him on the sofa later, drinking tea, Minerva felt quite peculiar. There was something very normal about what they were doing, and yet the circumstances were completely bizarre. Not to mention that she had never seen Severus smile as often as he had in the last few days. Of course, he was breaking down in tears, as well, but it was very nice to see him smile and relax. Perhaps he might learn something about how to enjoy life when this incident was over. Remembering what his life was like, though, Minerva doubted it. Again, compassion for her friend ached in her heart. She would try to make this as positive for him as possible. Something that he could hold onto later. Perhaps when Voldemort was gone, he would remember it, and it would give him hope that he could have some happiness in his life and that he could find someone else to share it with.

Finally, at three o'clock, after they had talked about several things, including his confused feelings toward Remus Lupin, Minerva suggested that they return to bed. "I will stay with you until you fall asleep. How long does it take for this potion to work?"

"Just a minute or two, but it's not as fast as Dreamless Sleep. It will be nice to have you stay with me."

Minerva returned to the bedroom she shared with Albus and found the sleeping potion. She poured the dose into a small cup and returned to the sitting room. "Ready?"

They went into Severus's bedroom. Minerva put a freshening charm on the sheets and straightened them. Before he got into bed, Minerva placed the sleeping draught on the night stand.

"Severus, I would like to do something that might help keep the nightmares at bay. It might not, but we can try, if you like."

"What?" Severus furrowed his brow. Nothing could keep his nightmares at bay without Occlumency or Dreamless Sleep.

"Take off your pyjama top and lie down on top of the bed – if you want to. I thought I might give you a little massage."

"Oh, you don't need to do that, Minerva! It's better if you don't, really." He grasped at his pyjama top as if he believed she might rip it from him.

"All right, as you wish, Severus. I just thought it would relax you. It might help you sleep. And I would have liked to do it for you. But if you'd rather I didn't . . ."

"You want to?"

Minerva nodded.

"I really don't think you'd like to, Minerva." He swallowed. "I'm not much to look at. And . . . there's the matter of my left arm." He averted his gaze from hers.

"I've seen it before, Severus. It's not likely to bother me. And if my touching it is a problem, if he could tell, then I will be careful to avoid it."

"No, only if it's active could he tell if someone were touching it. And he probably couldn't tell who it was. But it's an ugly, evil thing, Minerva, something you should not be subject to."

"I promise you that it won't traumatize me, Severus. There is something else bothering you. Is it just that you are . . . shy?"

"You really don't want to know, Minerva."

"Severus, one thing I really hate is having people tell me what I do and do not want. What is it? If you can't tell me, fine, but don't behave as though I am the one stopping you!"

"I'm very ugly, Minerva," he said softly. "And my body's uglier than what you can see. I know this. You don't need to humour me. You should not be subject to my ugliness."

Minerva shook her head. She came closer to him and reached up and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "If you really don't want me to do this, I will stop, but otherwise . . ."

Severus dropped his hands and closed his eyes as Minerva slowly unbuttoned his pyjama top. When she was done, she opened it part way. Despite the pale light, she could make out many long, thin scars on his chest. Deciding that she would wonder later what had caused them and when he had received them, she gently placed her palms on his chest and drew them down to his stomach, noting the meagre flesh covering his rib cage. Bringing her hands back up to his shoulders, she eased the shirt from him, and he allowed it to drop away from his body.

Minerva placed one hand on each shoulder. "Open your eyes, Severus."

He opened them.

Minerva grinned a lopsided smile. "I haven't fainted in shock yet, have I?"

He tried to return her smile, but with little success.

"What is it that you didn't want me to see, Severus?"

"My ugliness. All of it."

"Nothing particular, then?"

"No . . . Except I have a chicken breast," he said, flushing in shame.

"What? Did someone tell you that? What foolishness!" Minerva gently but firmly ran a hand down and across his chest and lower ribs. "No, you have a fine build, Severus. You are well proportioned, and you most certainly do not have a 'chicken breast'! Whoever said that must have been envious of you in some way. You do look as though you could stand to eat a bit more than you do, but I already knew that, and it can't come as a surprise to you to hear it."

Severus listened as he stood there tautly. "I have scars."

"We all have scars, Severus. They are marks on the skin. That's all they are. And yours don't seem bad."

Before he could stop himself, Severus said, "You haven't seen my back yet." He winced.

Minerva walked around him. Yes, even in this bad light, she could see the traces of many scars, apparently from varied causes, but they were all fairly smooth, and it looked as though he had healed well from the injuries. She really didn't think she wanted to know their origins, though. After examining his back a moment, she ran both hands over it, much as she had his chest, and Severus flinched slightly at her initial touch. Minerva came back around and faced him.

"They are marks, Severus. While I wish you hadn't had the pain that must have occurred when they were created, they are only marks." She held up her hands to him. "You were concerned that I shouldn't be subject to the sight of them, but see? I am just as I was. They didn't rub off; they didn't cause me to faint or run from the room in terror. It's just you. Your chest. Your back. The body of Severus Snape, my friend. Nothing ugly or disgusting about it. Truly."

"Really?"

"Really. I wouldn't lie about something like that. If I found them disgusting, I would simply refrain from saying anything."

A sudden smile lit Severus's face and tears came to his eyes. "I . . . that's . . . I . . . thank you."

Minerva smiled slightly. "You're welcome, Severus. Now if you would lie down on your stomach, I can give you a bit of a massage – not a very long one, I'm afraid. I think we both need our sleep."

Still smiling, Severus complied with Minerva's request. As she began to knead his shoulders, she said, "I'll give you another one of these tomorrow. Perhaps with some kind of nice scented oil – something masculine. You needn't worry that I'll make you smell sweet and floral."

As she rubbed his back and felt Severus relax under her hands, Minerva recognised the wisdom of Albus's suggestion. Not only did she feel less uneasy with Severus physically, but she felt closer to him, as well. Her compassion was evoked by his clearly distorted self-image and the thought of what the various scars on his body must mean. Albus must know about the scars. He had seen Severus in the infirmary when he was being treated for various things. Perhaps that was one reason Albus had suggested it. Or he may be so accustom to them, he never gave them thought. The latter was more likely, since he probably would have warned her otherwise. Although they really hadn't bothered her, except for the fact that he had them at all.

She stopped after only a few minutes. "I will give you a better one tomorrow. Perhaps after a long day of dealing with 'dunderheads'!"

Minerva stood, and Severus rolled over, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a relaxed sigh. He smiled. "Thank you, Minerva. I know I have told you before, but you truly are the most wonderful woman ever to have walked the earth."

"I really rather doubt that, Severus," Minerva replied, feeling somewhat guilty as she thought of her impatience with him and some of the less-than-charitable thoughts she had had about him during the past few days. "But it is good of you to think so. Now get in bed and I will give you the potion."

Minerva helped him don his pyjama top, arranged his covers, and smoothed his hair back from his face. Before taking the potion from the night stand, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "If you dream, remember that all is well and that I am fine and that you can come find me when you wake up." She kissed his cheek again, then helped him sit up enough to drink down the potion.

Minerva sat and held Severus's hand as he looked at her, his eyes blinking, then finally closing. When his breathing became deep and regular, she doused the candles and headed back to Albus and to bed.

When Severus awoke, grey dawn was leaking through the heavy draperies drawn across the windows that flanked the bed. He felt strange. His tongue was fuzzy, his head felt heavy, and he felt oddly limp. Nonetheless, the spell's imperative forced the groggy wizard out of bed and stumbling toward his beloved; the spell ignored even his full bladder in its drive to have him act in accordance with its command.

Bleary-eyed, Severus staggered into Albus and Minerva's room. In the darkened room, he could just make out their figures on the bed. Albus was lying on the side closest to the door. Severus, unable even to think of their need for sleep or for privacy, or of anything but his love, came around the foot of the bed. He could now see that Albus was wrapped around Minerva again, much as he had been the previous day, his withered hand resting on a small pillow in front of her. Their heads shared the same pillow, and with Minerva's head tucked slightly under Albus's, his face partially buried in her hair, one had the impression that Albus was kissing the top of her head even as they slept.

Severus rounded the bed, the imperative impelling him forward. The tiny sliver of rational-Severus watched himself, disgusted. Severus knelt beside the bed; the command of the Actus Adfectus warred with his genuine love for Minerva and his concern for the one man who had ever truly cared for him. He reached out a hand. It hovered above her arm before, with great effort, Severus withdrew it. There was little clear to him but two things: He loved Minerva. But he also loved Albus. He had always rebelled whenever the older wizard had expressed affection toward him, but, even with no spell acting on him with regard to the Headmaster, Severus had absolutely no doubt that he loved the old wizard whose kindness and forgiveness had given him a new life.

Severus sat back on his heels and lowered his forehead to rest on the edge of the bed, hugging his arms to himself, fighting the imperative, silent tears rising in his eyes and rolling down his face.

The others slept on. Losing his battle with the Adfectus, Severus raised his head and was about to speak his beloved's name when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, an unfamiliar blue potion bottle on the dresser across from the bed. It wasn't one of his. Albus's writing was on it. The sleeping potion.

Like a somnambulist, his eyes glazed, Severus rolled back from the bed and stood in a fluid movement unlike the faltering ones that had brought him to the room. He stepped over to the dresser.

"Dreaming Sleep Potion, Potent" was written on the label. The bottle was more than three quarters full. He had had two doses. That meant there was . . . Severus's fuzzy brain rebelled at the calculation. There was a lot left. Much more than two doses. He reached for the bottle. He would dream and sleep, till he slept and dreamt no more. Just as his fingers closed around the bottle, he heard a rusty voice behind him.

"Severus? What are you doing, my boy?" Albus had awoken and turned his head to see Severus at the dresser.

"Nothing, Albus." He stood still, his fingers locked around the bottle.

"Nothing?"

Beside Albus, Minerva turned and stretched. "Severus – what have you there?"

"I –" Severus swallowed and lowered his head, not answering, but not loosening his hold on the bottle, either.

Minerva got out of bed and came around to him. Carefully, she reached for the bottle. "It's too late for another dose this morning, Severus," she said quietly, deliberately misstating his intent.

"Not if I take enough," he croaked, but he let her take the potion from his hand.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I should have put this away last night. Why don't you and I go into the sitting room for a bit and Albus can take care of this for us?"

Docile, Severus allowed Minerva to lead him out of the room. He sat on the sofa with no prompting, and Minerva settled beside him.

"Severus, look at me."

Severus slowly raised his head. Minerva stroked his cheek lightly. "Let's take care of the imperative now, Severus, then you can shave and dress, and we can talk about the other later."

Severus nodded. "I didn't want to wake you."

"I know, Severus, but it is almost my usual time to rise. You slept this whole time?"

Severus nodded and took her hand. "I haven't slept like that since . . . I don't remember." He tentatively reached out to embrace her, and Minerva allowed him to take her in his arms. "I love you more than my life, Minerva. And I realised something else, too. Something that cut through the imperative and allowed me, for at least a few moments, to resist waking you. Albus . . . Albus means so much to me. And he loves you so. I see it clearly now even when I am completely in the thrall of the curse. I cannot do this anymore. You must see that. We will not find a counter-curse or a potion to rid me of the Adfectus. We are merely prolonging the inevitable. I will shave and dress because you wish it, my most darling one, but then I want you to reconsider my request."

"Severus. I think we need to talk about this in greater detail, but later. Not now. All right, dear?"

"As you wish, Minerva. Always as you wish." His voice cracked. "I do not want to invade your privacy any longer, my love. You must now loathe me, loathe my touch. How can you bear my embrace?"

"Do you learn nothing, Severus?" Minerva sat back to look at him. "Do you not remember that when you woke last night, I was there? That when you wished to remain awake a while, I stayed? That as you fell asleep, I was still there with you?"

"Forgive me, Minerva! You must think I am the most ungrateful wizard you have ever met." More tears gathered in his eyes.

"Hush, do not worry. I didn't say those things because I believe you to be ungrateful or because I want anything from you for myself, but because I do not want you to devalue yourself as you do. If I loathed your touch, I doubt we would have made it past Saturday morning, and I certainly would not have rubbed your back to help you fall asleep last night." Minerva shook her head. "It is like shouting into a void. Almost as though you cannot hear me, cannot believe me. Severus, I cannot continue to repeat to you that I do this because I am your friend, I care about you, and I want you to live. It is very wearing. Please, though, any time you are about to say – or even to think – that I loathe you or your touch, recall all I have done the last few days and all the liberties I have allowed you. Do not even bother thinking about what I have said – my words do not seem to persuade you. But think about my actions and ask yourself if you believe that I would do those things if I truly loathed you."

"I will try, Minerva. But it is difficult. I loathe myself. I cannot imagine that a woman, a witch, a lady, such as yourself could do anything but loathe me, as well."

"Nonetheless, if you could try to refrain from saying such things, I would appreciate whatever efforts you are able to make. I don't loathe you, but I do find it more than tiresome to have to continually hear how I surely must!"

Severus nodded.

"I think you should go dress now, Severus. We can spend a little more time together after that. I really need a cup of tea – not to mention that I'd like to get dressed. And we also have to plan your day."

Three hours later, Severus had finished teaching his first class and had fifteen minutes before the next one began. He walked rapidly the short distance from his classroom to his office, whispering the new password, opening the door, and quickly shutting it behind him. As soon as the door closed, Minerva transformed from her Animagus form into her ordinary form and sealed the door with Colloportus, then placed two different versions of the Imperturbable on it for good measure. Severus stepped toward her and Minerva took his outstretched hands.

"How was it?"

"I don't know. Fine, fine. They were first-years." Severus took Minerva in his arms and held her tightly. "Gods, Minerva, being around them all, knowing that I might fall apart at any moment! I thought of you almost constantly. I finally had them just write an essay for the last half of the class. They probably thought I was quite mad, the way I stalked about shouting at them about their wand technique but never demonstrating it – or even telling them what was wrong. For all I know, they were doing everything perfectly! I couldn't pay any attention at all."

"We spent several minutes together just before you went in, though." They had Flooed directly to his office from the secret suite and had sat together on a small sofa that Minerva had Transfigured from two of his stiff-backed chairs.

"I just could think only of you, my darling. I cannot do this. I will not make it through the day. And the next class is my sixth-year NEWTs class. And you know who is in that. Between Draco and Potter, one of them – or worse, both – is bound to find my behaviour noteworthy. Draco will just snicker up his sleeve if he notices, but he'll tell Bella, which amounts to the same thing as telling the Dark Lord. And Potter . . . if he notices, that would be worse. The boy can't hold his tongue. He cheeked me within five minutes of the start of the very first class of this year. I could handle him then, but now – if he were to do that today, I don't think I could deal with it at all. I will lose the respect of the entire class. I cannot teach them how to defend themselves if they do not respect me, Minerva. The way I've felt recently, and the fact that he is so like his father, if he says something to me . . . the students are likely to begin calling me 'Snivellus' again!" The prospect of that brought tears to his eyes.

"Come, sit with me. We have at least ten more minutes before you have to leave. We talked about this already, remember? Get the students to teach each other – tell them you have a bet riding on the outcome, or some such nonsense. Hermione is sure to co-operate; she'll see immediately what you are doing. You will have an ally in the classroom."

"All right. I will try. And if it doesn't work, I will try to act enraged, as I usually do. But it is hard now. It's as though all my anger and resentment and envy have been subsumed by this curse. I can only feel self-loathing – I will not speak of it to you, I know – but I can only feel that, despair, sorrow, and my love for you, my darling!"

"You felt affection for Albus this morning. Try feeling affection for your students – or at least tolerance and a sense of . . . care. They are under your care, Severus. You are responsible for them. That should inspire some positive feelings in you, don't you think?"

"I don't know, my love, but I will try it. I will think of you, and I will try." He nuzzled her neck. "You are so beautiful, so wise, so absolutely . . . wonderful." He kissed her neck again before enfolding her in his arms. "I wish I could protect you from all harm, Minerva. Keep all hurt and sadness from you. I wish I could be your guardian forever and ever. I do love you so!"

"I know you do, Severus."

Minerva looked up at him. His deep brown eyes, so dark they looked almost as black as his pupils, gazed down at her. So different from Albus's bright blue ones. He was so different in so many ways. Poor man. For some reason, the comparison between Severus and Albus caused a clenching ache in her for the wizard who sat beside her, arms draped loosely around her, looking at her with such unadulterated adoration. He would remember all of this. All of the tears, all of the revelations he had made, all of the pain . . . Minerva's own eyes filled with tears. Had this spell lost her a friend? A friend who needed her friendship, but who might reject it once he was no longer under the influence of the Adfectus? She raised her hand to caress his cheek.

"Minerva, my love, what is it? Why do you cry?"

"I am hoping that after this is over, I have not lost you as a friend, Severus. Especially now that I have come to know you better. I hope that we can still argue over Quidditch and that I can berate you for the points you take and you can rant about the dunderheads needing to learn lessons . . . If you cannot be my friend any longer after this is over, that will be the worst thing about this entire experience for me."

"Of course I shall be your friend, Minerva! How could you think otherwise? After all you have done for me, after all the kindness you have shown me? Do you think me that much an ungrateful bastard, then?"

"No, Severus, but I do know that you are proud. I believe that I remember the uncursed Severus Snape better than you do, at the moment. But do not worry about that now. You have a little more than five minutes before your next class."

"I will do as you suggest to handle the students, or try some version of it. Perhaps Miss Granger could be enlisted, as you say . . ." He sighed.

"Severus, I think you should act on the imperative more than you are. You need all of your wits about you – or as much of them as you can gather!" she said with a wry smile.

Severus smiled down at her, not minding the joke at his expense. He bent his head and kissed her forehead. "You are . . . everything I have said you are, and more, Minerva McGonagall." He pressed his lips to her forehead again, then made his way to her neck; one hand moved to lightly stroked her side through her robe. His hand moved up toward her breast as his lips found their way to the hollow of her throat. He gently cupped her breast through her robe and trailed kisses down to her decolletage. His lips skimmed her skin where it met the neckline of her robes.

Minerva gently urged Severus to sit up away from her, but allowed his hand to remain where it had come to rest. She swallowed as she looked into his unfocussed eyes. This would be . . . an investment, of sorts. If she were to do this at all, it would be best to do it when it could help him – help carry him through the next hour, at least. She raised a hand and lightly stroked his face.

"Severus, we are friends. I am your friend. I always will be; you can always come to me. I hope you do not turn away from me when this is over. Things will not be entirely the same, I know. And certainly they will not be as they are now." Minerva caressed Severus comfortingly when a look of pain crossed his face at her words. "But you can always come and talk to me, Severus. And if you ever need a hug, I can give you one. Although I do hope your need for them is not as frequent as it is now!" she said, trying to joke, but at seeing his downcast expression, she added softly, "But as you do need them frequently now, they are yours . . . as is this, Severus."

Minerva trailed her fingers down from his temple, along his jaw, and up to his mouth, where she traced his lips, much as he had done to her the day before. She caressed his cheek then combed her fingers into his hair and gently pulled him toward her as she reached up to meet him. Her lips lightly touched his once, then twice. She pulled back only slightly before approaching his mouth with her own again, gently kissing him, one hand threaded through his fine black hair, one hand resting on his shoulder. He reacted only slightly at first, but as she extended her third kiss, he pulled her closer and pressed his mouth into hers. Somewhat too hard, Minerva thought as she carefully disengaged from the kiss, but she doubted he had had much experience with such things. From what Albus had said, she presumed he had accumulated most of his experience by frequenting prostitutes in Knockturn Alley.

Severus sat back, stunned. He touched his lips. "Why . . . ?"

"Because you needed it, Severus. You should go soon. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure . . . well, I am, but I can't say." He averted his eyes.

"Ah. Well. I see. A good blast of a Cooling Charm can take care of that before you leave for class if it hasn't subsided before then."

"What? Oh, no! I didn't mean that, well, that is also there, um, just a little," he stuttered, blushing. "No, I can't say because you told me this morning that you didn't want to hear me say anything about your loathing to touch me."

Minerva started to chuckle, then she laughed out loud. "Oh, Severus, you really are quite precious sometimes! A witch, whom you love, kisses you, and all you can think is that she must loathe touching you!"

"Well, no, not exactly." He blushed. "I was thinking that maybe you meant what you said, and you really don't loathe me."

"That's progress, then. Now, how is the spell doing? Do you think you can make it through the next hour?"

Severus smiled. "I am sure I can. But I will have to remember not to walk about with a smile on my face. They will be even more likely to think I've gone mad than the students in my last class!"

That elicited another chuckle from Minerva. Before he left, she cast a Glamour on him to replicate his normal pallor, rather than the blush that currently graced his cheeks. He declined her offer of a Cooling Charm aimed at his "nether regions," as she called them, saying that all of the layers he wore had many advantages and obscuring his current problem was one of them.

Severus moved through the knot of students gathered in front of the door to his classroom. The students parted for him automatically, something that normally pleased Snape. Now, he barely noticed, he was so euphoric following Minerva's kiss. He opened the door to let them in and heard a familiar whisper behind him.

"No luck. Doesn't look like the git is sick yet."

Another familiar – and despised – voice responded mirthfully, "Yeah, but there's still hope!"

He was just about to whirl around and, in an attempt to maintain his reputation, take points when a third voice hissed, "Can't you two ever stop! He was a hero! If Professor McGonagall could hear you –"

"If Professor McGonagall could hear you," said Snape, turning, "I doubt very much she would be particularly pleased. But she is in isolation, the result of something very nasty and very deadly. And her cubs are making jokes about it." His eyes narrowed. "Weasley, Potter, I will leave you to your Head of House. When she recovers. You, Miss Granger, will see me after class."

The class went smoothly, to Severus's surprise. Weasley and Potter, having apparently felt at least a twinge of Gryffindor conscience – no doubt about their Head of House, not about what they'd said of him – kept quiet. Potter, to Snape's surprise, had a little more success with his nonverbal spell-casting than usual. That was essential for him to master if he were ever to have a chance of defeating the Dark Lord. Severus encouraged him the only way he knew how – and given Potter's hatred for the Defence teacher, it was likely to work just by dint of reverse psychology. Stupid boy.

As Minerva had suggested, he divided the students into groups of threes – which normally would work in this class, because there were only eighteen students. Unfortunately, a particularly hypochondriacal Slytherin had reported to the infirmary after fainting in Ancient Runes. She was convinced she was going to get febrile magical distemper because she had been only twenty feet from Professor McGonagall the previous morning. Severus scowled when he realised that putting them in pairs wouldn't help, either; there would still be a spare. With a smirk, he paired Pansy Parkinson with Hermione Granger. Parkinson was complete Doxie-droppings when it came to nonverbal spells; Hermione had accomplished one the very first class.

Severus turned to Hermione and said, barely loudly enough for the Slytherin girl to overhear, "Perhaps you can teach Miss Parkinson a thing or two, Miss Granger." He raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his mouth turning up so briefly it could have been mistaken for a mere nervous twitch.

Hermione responded, "Yes, sir." She hoped she had interpreted him correctly. Apparently she had, since Snape did not correct her "teaching method," which consisted simply of jinxing Pansy nonverbally and unhelpfully telling her partner, when the jinx hit her, "Don't forget your shield, Pansy," or "Pansy, you were supposed to block me. Watch my wand!"

Pansy finally resorted to whispering the Protego, and Severus, who had been watching the two, said to her, "Parkinson, nonverbal. 'Nonverbal' means you do not speak. No words. In your head only."

Pansy opened her mouth then closed it. Snape had seemed fine when she had seen him in the library the previous day, but he was still clearly irritated with her. She didn't want to annoy him any further. So she spent the next twenty minutes being hit by a wide variety of jinxes and minor hexes, all of which Hermione cancelled – not with any alacrity – to the point where other groups stopped to gawk and giggle at particularly amusing results. Severus merely gazed on, not even bothering to tell the others to get back to their own work.

For the last twenty minutes of the class, Severus asked them to write a description of their experience and what they learned from it. He sat behind his desk and watched the students, not seeing them, envisioning only the lovely face of his beloved and remembering her kiss. For a moment, Severus wondered what the kiss had meant. He was sure that, although Minerva didn't loathe him, it certainly didn't mean that her feelings toward him were changing at all. Perhaps she pitied him. He certainly was pathetic. Somehow, that thought did not disturb him as it usually would. She was a goddess, filled with kindness and generosity. He would gratefully and humbly accept whatever crumbs she might wish to cast in his direction.

His eyes becoming more unfocussed, Severus recalled the sensation of her lips on his own, first so lightly, the merest feather touch, then more firmly as her lips gently pulled on his own. He wondered about his response. He had rarely ever kissed anyone before until the spell hit him. Now he had kissed Minerva hundreds of times, though he had never dared kiss her mouth until she had kissed him. He almost had kissed her yesterday, Severus remembered, but she had turned her cheek to him. He had seen many kisses, of course, mostly between horny teenagers. He had no idea whether he was doing it correctly.

Minerva didn't seem to mind the small kisses he bestowed on her, and sometimes he felt so moved by the sheer wonder of her being that he could be nothing other than tender and gentle with her. Yet Severus also felt great passion for Minerva; the spell hadn't compelled him to act on it yet, but when she had kissed him and he had begun to return it, his desire for her had mounted. Severus wanted to return her kiss properly next time – perhaps, if he dared, even to initiate one of his own – but he wasn't sure how to do it. Minerva had been so kind to him, perhaps she would help him. Some part of him recognised how pathetic that thought was, but it didn't bother him as it normally would. Minerva was not repulsed by his pitiable self; she would surely only appreciate his desire to please her with his kisses. Besides, he thought the kiss had felt nicer before he began to return it . . . that surely must be a sign he was doing something wrong.

Severus sat and daydreamed about his beloved for the rest of the class period and was somewhat startled when the students began to gather their books and parchments and file forward to hand in their written work. Hermione Granger hung back, shooing Weasley and Potter away as they tried to express their sympathy about how unfair it was that she was being singled out. It hadn't even occurred to them that Hermione had had a great deal of fun repeatedly jinxing Pansy and that Snape had never intervened except to admonish the Slytherin not to whisper her incantations – at the same time that other students were also whispering their spells. Idiots. Gryffindors were all idiots. Except for Minerva, of course. And Albus. Severus looked at Hermione, who was now heading toward the front of the classroom. Hmmpf. And perhaps Miss Granger.

The classroom door was ajar; no doubt the two dynamic dunderheads were waiting outside, straining to hear – or using those Extendable Ears. Snape pointed at the door. Hermione turned and looked. She was puzzled only for a moment, then she raised her wand, closed the door, and cast an Imperturble.

"Do you also know Colloportus, Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned back and cast one more spell.

"Professor, I am sorry about earlier –"

"You are not responsible for the idiocy and rudeness of your House-mates, Miss Granger." He looked at her. Why had he wanted to see her? Oh, yes! His brilliant idea – and she had given him the perfect opportunity to approach her about it. "Do you have any free time today – I mean do you have any time when you are not expected to be in class?" he asked, remembering that the girl probably had a well-planned study timetable.

"Umm, yes. I have a free period now, and then there's lunch, of course. But Professor, how is Professor McGonagall? They aren't telling us anything except that she is stable." She looked troubled.

"She is fine, Miss Granger." Seeing that her expression hadn't changed, he repeated, "She is fine. Really. Think a moment, Miss Granger. She is fine."

"Oh. I don't understand, but I believe you, sir."

"Hmmpf. Good." Now, back to his plan. "Miss Granger, I am going to give you a pass so that you can go into Hogsmeade." Something else occurred to him – a slight hitch in his plan. "Do you have any money, Miss Granger?"

"Umm, some. In my dormitory."

"I will repay you, then." He took out his quill and began writing a pass for Hermione. "I need you to go to Honeydukes and buy a box of chocolates. Nice ones. Ones that witches like. Witches of fine taste."

He handed her the pass. "Charm the bag to look like the ones the apothecary uses. Tell anyone who asks that I sent you into town for potion ingredients as your punishment for . . . whatever. Oh, I will write you another pass for the Restricted Section. I will meet you there at eight o'clock. I will bring the money; you bring the chocolates." Suddenly realising that he had merely assumed her co-operation, he hesitated. "If you would, of course. I would appreciate it. I cannot go myself."

"Of course, Professor. I am happy to help you." Indeed, she did look happy to help him. "But I don't need a pass to the Restricted Section; I have one."

"Get two boxes, actually. One larger. That will be all, Miss Granger," he said, dismissing her automatically.

She returned to her desk to pick up her bag.

"And . . . thank you, as well, Miss Granger."

She turned a brilliant smile on him. "You're welcome, Professor!"

"Your personal honour guard is likely waiting outside. You should probably look dejected. Oh – five points to Gryffindor for excellent and imaginative spell use in class this morning. Your Confundus was particularly well done . . . Do not tell anyone, or I will have to remove twice as many in order to maintain my reputation!" He actually quirked a slight smile.

"Yes, Professor." Hermione's smile became brighter, if that was possible, before she put the appropriate unhappy expression on her face and prepared to meet her friends.

The rest of the day proceeded as planned. Severus made an appearance at lunch; Albus kept company with Minerva and ate his lunch with her in the secret suite. Severus met Minerva before each class, recharging before he had to make another public appearance. With each passing hour, however, Severus noticed that his ability to concentrate on the students and to maintain his normal nasty demeanor was diminishing. Worried, he met with Albus in the Headmaster's office before dinner.

"I don't think I will be any good at all tomorrow, Albus. It's not a matter of making it through an hour or so without seeing Minerva; it's a matter of making it through without behaving so peculiarly that everyone notices. I can't concentrate, it's hard to remember to be short-tempered and nasty, and students speak to me but I can barely comprehend what they're saying half the time. I have even found myself on the verge of smiling at them, Albus."

Albus chuckled, then grew serious. "You don't think you will make it through the day tomorrow, then?"

"No, sir. I am sorry. I know you have made plans –"

"Plans must be flexible, Severus. I will simply make the announcement this evening. I will tell the students and staff at dinner that you will be leaving immediately for Mongolia."

"Not tonight, Albus." Albus looked at him, puzzlement written on his face. Severus explained, "I have something I need to do in the library tonight. I can't pretend to leave until after that."

"Oh! All right, then. I will contact Remus tonight, though. He should be able to arrive tomorrow morning . . . Are you still certain that you want him to take your classes, Severus?"

"Yes. Honestly. More than I was, in fact. Minerva helped me to understand my reaction to him. I still don't like him, but as long as he poses no danger to the students, he is a competent teacher, and I have no objections to him taking my classes."

Albus looked pleased. "I will tell him that, Severus. He was concerned you would be put out by my asking him to step in for you."

"Hmmpf. He will definitely know I am not in my right mind, then."

Albus chuckled. "He will be pleased. I will make the announcement to the school during breakfast, then, and you can either come to breakfast or not, depending on how well you are feeling, all right, my boy?"

"Fine. Thank you, Albus."

"I stopped in and saw Minerva a few times while you were teaching today, Severus. She told me that you still hadn't spoken about the incident this morning. We need to do that."

"I'd really rather not, Headmaster."

"We have to. If not you and I, then you and Minerva. But you need to talk to one of us about what happened. And I have some other matters I wish to discuss with you, as well. Meet me here after dinner – after you have visited Minerva."

"Very well, Headmaster." Severus nodded stiffly, with almost the same degree of reticence and resentment that he normally showed. "But I must be in the library by eight o'clock."

Albus patted his arm. "I do not mean this to be a scolding, Severus, although I am serious. And if you can be here by seven o'clock, I believe you will be able to visit Minerva again and be in the library by eight." He hesitated. "Why are you going to the library, if I may ask?"

"I am meeting a student, Headmaster."

"Mm. I see. Well, come along. You need to eat something before you return to see Minerva."

After dinner, Severus returned to the suite via Floo in his rooms, stopping there briefly to grab a small moneybag from his dresser drawer. He stepped through the fireplace into his new bedroom and looked around for his poetry book. He would use poetry now to press his case with Minerva. Severus quickly found the slim volume. Over the last two days, he had practically memorised this poem, but he could not rely on his memory entirely.

Walking into the sitting room, he couldn't help but smile when he saw Minerva stretched out, shoes off, feet up, reading Transfiguration Today and eating an apple.

"Good-evening, Minerva," he said softly.

She smiled at him. "Hello, Severus. How was dinner?"

"Quieter than usual. I think the students were remembering yesterday evening's meal and your very dramatic collapse. Which reminds me. I did not have the opportunity during my visits with you today to mention that I promised Messieurs Weasley and Potter that, once you were well, you would be dealing with their punishment."

"For what?"

Severus recounted the incident, omitting mention of Hermione. "I know it may not seem like much to you, Minerva, but they do and say these kinds of things all of the time. In my presence and well within earshot of other students. It is bad enough to know what they must say about me out of my presence, but I cannot allow them to consistently disrespect me like that right within my hearing. They would never behave that way with any other teacher. I wish they would just grow up and leave me alone." A look of pain crossed his face. "Why can't they just leave me alone?"

"Come sit next to me, Severus. I will speak to them. You are right. They should not disrespect you to your face – or with you in the room. One cannot control how the students speak about staff when they are on their own, but you are right that they must learn to control their tongues and their behaviour and give every teacher at least the minimum respect due them by virtue of their position. I would make an exception in certain cases, of course." At Severus's expression, Minerva grinned. "We could call it the 'Umbridge Exception,'" referring to the previous year's Defence "teacher."

"Thank you, Minerva. It's really probably unnecessary in my case, however . . . I won't be teaching again after today. I spoke with Albus. He's contacting Remus this evening."

"I see . . . but after this is over, you still need to command respect in your classroom, Severus."

"After this is over? You still speak as if we will find a counter-curse." Severus sighed and lowered his head, allowing his hair to fall around his face. He turned back to her. "I have something I wish to read you, Minerva. I know most of it by heart, but not all of it. It is the rest of the poem I read you yesterday."

"All right. That sounds nice. Keats, didn't you say?"

"Yes. It's rather ironic, actually. It turns out that he wrote the poem in honour of a woman for his brother George to give to her, although at the time, the poet harboured feelings for the same woman; she eventually married George and not him. It seems an appropriate poem for me to read you for so many reasons." He took Minerva's hand and kissed it softly before opening the book to the correct page.

"Hadst thou liv'd when chivalry

"Lifted up her lance on high,

"Tell me what thou wouldst have been?

"Ah! I see the silver sheen

"Of thy broidered, floating vest

"Cov'ring half thine ivory breast;

"Which, O heavens! I should see,

"But that cruel destiny

"Has placed a golden cuirass there;

"Keeping secret what is fair."

Severus's voice, dark and low, recited the poetry to such effect that Minerva was transfixed, more so than yesterday, when she had been so distracted by other concerns and the presence of Albus sitting across from them. He continued on, his dark voice smooth and resonant.

"See with what a stately pace

"Comes thine alabaster steed;

"Servant of heroic deed!

"O'er his loins, his trappings glow

"Like the northern lights on snow.

"Mount his back! thy sword unsheath!

"Sign of the enchanter's death;

"Bane of every wicked spell;

"Silencer of dragon's yell.

"Alas! thou this wilt never do:

"Thou art an enchantress too,

"And wilt surely never spill

"Blood of those whose eyes can kill."

He slowly closed the book and placed it on the low table in front of them. Severus turned to Minerva. "Sign of the enchanter's death; / Bane of every wicked spell; / Silencer of dragon's yell. / Alas thou this wilt never do: / Thou art an enchantress too, / And wilt surely never spill / Blood of those whose eyes can kill," he repeated in a near whisper. "Will you not allow me to die, Minerva? Give this enchanter his death, please. If not tonight, then tomorrow or the next day? Before the imperative begins to will me to expressions of affection far more intrusive than those you have experienced already? For when that occurs, you will see me begin to go mad. You know from the texts we have studied what that will eventually mean. I know that you are too kind to allow me to suffer long, but I would prefer to end it while I still have some shred of dignity left and can still look upon your face and smile before I die, as I did last night before I slept." Tears had gathered in his eyes as he spoke, and he caressed her face tenderly, unaware he was doing so.

Minerva swallowed. "Severus. I tell you, you will not die. And you will not go mad. I know that Albus wants to speak to you soon, so you must go now, but we will discuss this more when you return, all right?"

Severus nodded sorrowfully. Minerva took his face in her hands. "I promise you, all will be well. We will talk tonight." And for a second time, she kissed him, gently placing her lips on his, eyes half-closed, pulling him nearer to her, and kissing him again. Severus's arms went around her as he accepted her kisses, allowing his lips to soften and gently respond to hers. When she drew back slightly, he looked at her, examining her face as if to read her wish, then he tentatively placed a light kiss on her lips and then another, before she stopped him with a gentle press of her hand.

"You need to go now, Severus."

He nodded and headed to the fireplace and the Headmaster's office.

"Good-evening, Severus!" the Headmaster greeted Severus as he stepped from the Floo. "I imagine that you did not eat much dinner, so I asked Wilspy to bring sandwiches and butterbeer. I didn't think you should have anything stronger than that if you are going to the library."

"Thank you, but I am not hungry. You wished to speak to me." Severus sat in the chair across from the Headmaster's desk.

"I wanted to discuss some things with you, Severus. I do not wish to lecture you. Although . . . I do wish you would eat something. I know it has been a concern of Minerva's. There's roast beef with horseradish, and a couple with tuna salad with capers, onions, and pickles. Two of your favourites."

Severus sighed and picked up a half a tuna sandwich. He attempted to glare at Albus as he took his first bite, but his glare looked as much like a pout as his scowl did, and Albus only smiled at him.

"Good! Well, let's start with this morning. I do have something to say that might sound like a lecture, but I want you to respond to it – after you have finished eating, of course! I hope you enjoy the sandwiches. Minerva will be pleased.

"Both Minerva and I were distressed by the possibility of what may have transpired had I not woken up when I did. We are both very sorry that we did not secure the potion last night. We did not mean to place such a temptation in your path, my boy. We both care for you deeply and would have been terribly grieved if you had harmed yourself so needlessly."

Severus had eaten his half sandwich in a few bites and listened to Albus's words. After Albus finished speaking, Severus sat, silent and apparently transfixed by the sandwich platter.

After waiting for a response from the younger wizard, Albus finally said, "Severus, I do have other topics to discuss with you. I could move on to them, but I would appreciate hearing your thoughts on this subject first."

"I don't believe I have anything to say, sir. I will try to . . . abide by Minerva's wishes for as long as possible." He cleared his throat and looked up at the older wizard. "If she wishes me to live until the spell removes the choice from my hands, then I will do so. I hope that when that time arrives, you will have mercy on me and do what needs to be done. It may be cowardly of me, but I do not wish to suffer the fate of some of the wizards of whom I read."

"You will not, Severus . . . Minerva must not have spoken with you, then. Hmm. I think in that case, I will leave the rest of our discussion for a later time, when it will make more sense to you. Why don't you go on back to Minerva now, then make your trip to the library – who are you seeing, Severus? If I may ask!"

Severus stiffened. "Hermione Granger. She . . . assisted me today."

"I see . . . do be careful what you say to her, my boy."

"I . . . I did already hint to her that her Head of House was not ill. I am sorry, Albus. She was worried, and I thought it would be all right since she knows of my condition already, as it is."

"That wasn't what I meant, Severus. I simply meant that you should be wary of what you say in a public place such as the library – could anyone have overheard what you said to her earlier?"

"No, sir. Miss Granger placed both an Imperturbable and a Colloportus on the door."

"Oh, that's fine, then. I am sure she is a young lady of great discretion. Most trustworthy."

Suddenly the potential idiocy of what he had done that day struck him. "Oh, Albus, I do hope she is!" He stood and began to pace.

"What is it, my boy? Did you tell her something more than that Minerva wasn't genuinely ill?"

"No, no, it's what I asked of her. I'm such a fool. I was thinking only of one thing." He turned to Albus. "It is a very good thing I am not going to teach tomorrow. I would be a danger to everyone."

"Why, Severus? What did you ask her?"

"Just to do me a favour. Do something that I couldn't do myself. It was idiotic. Completely foolish. I got an idea into my head and didn't think of anything else. It was just . . . just stupid." He plopped into a chair.

"I am sure that whatever it was you asked her to do, you can trust in her discretion, Severus. She has proven herself trustworthy so far. And I am aware of several secrets she has kept for very long stretches. I believe she will be able to keep yours indefinitely."

"I gave her five points, Albus. And I thanked her." He looked up at Albus, searching his face for approval. "Even after she learned what she did yesterday, she defended me to the dunderheaded duo that traipse about after her, then she was very co-operative in class." Severus smiled slightly at the memory of Pansy Parkinson doing a jig whilst singing "God Save the Queen." Very inventive, that one. Not particularly fair, combining two jinxes, but funny. Hermione had a bit of a nasty streak hidden within that Gryffindor heart. Look at what she'd done to Umbridge, after all. But Hermione seemed to reserve her nastiness to those who had brought it on themselves somehow; to her friends, she showed the utmost loyalty. Severus hoped that he was not on her wrong side. He was nasty, after all. And he did bring his troubles on himself most of the time, as Minerva so correctly pointed out. Minerva! Truly a goddess of wisdom!

"Well, I doubt you have anything to worry about, Severus. She knows that it is not just you involved in this situation. And I believe Miss Granger does hold you in rather high regard despite your less-than-kind attitude toward her and her friends."

"She surely cannot expect me, as your spy, to be all chummy with her and her hangers-on. I thought she had more intelligence than that. Wouldn't expect it from the others, of course."

"No, and I believe that as she has come to understand your role in the Order better, she understands that and doesn't expect you to be kind – it's rather that . . ." Albus hesitated. "I ought not say this to you in your current state."

"You can't say that, Albus. It's unfair. You should either have said nothing or just said what you wanted to. What is it?"

"It's your petty meanness that she cannot understand. The gratuitous exercise of many tiny cruelties, not merely to maintain an image for yourself, but to provide yourself with some amusement. As you did on Friday, much to your own detriment."

Severus looked chagrined a moment, but then said sharply, "I suppose she would prefer that I use a blood-letting quill to have my students write lines – a practice that went on all of last year, from what I understand."

"I did not know of it, Severus," Albus answered quietly.

"No? You should have. And how is it that every tiny harsh remark I make to some over-sensitive Hufflepuff or Gryffindor makes it to the ears of their Heads of House – and to your own – but no one said anything to anyone about Umbridge's on-going sadistic cruelty and abuse that caused physical injury to the students? The students hate me more than they did her, and I have never done anything to any of them that would come near to what she did. Not to mention that I am, at the very least, competent." Tears rose in Severus's eyes and some of his normal bitterness seeped into his voice as he thought of how reviled he always had been and always would be.

"They did not mount a campaign to rid the school of you while I was absent last spring, Severus; it was she against whom all of the mischief was directed. From what I understand, there was rather a plague of peculiar illnesses amongst her students, sometimes resulting in an entire class being in the infirmary rather than her classroom. You may have the occasional malingerer in your class, Severus, but not only do the students realise that you would catch them in their game, but also that you are a competent teacher. Even those who would never admit it out loud know that subconsciously."

"Really? Then why am I always told how abysmal my teaching methods are?"

"Because you could be outstanding, not merely competent. But it is now coming up on seven-forty. You need to return to Minerva if you are meeting Miss Granger at eight. Tell Minerva, if you please, that I will be in my office until at least ten tonight, perhaps later. I have a lot of work to catch up on."

Severus nodded. "I will try to remember. If I do not, it will be unintentional. I find that my mind wanders when I am not with Minerva, and when I am with her, I am quite focussed on her."

"I understand, my boy. She probably won't expect me for a while, anyway. Here, bring the sandwiches with you." Albus waved his wand and the sandwiches packed themselves up, neatly bundled into the red-checked cloth they had rested on. "Minerva might like some of the fish. She's never been particularly fond of roast beef. Though she does love Yorkshire pudding."

Severus gathered up the sandwiches and Flooed back to the suite to see Minerva. It hadn't been very long since he had last seen her, and the imperative wasn't yet overwhelming, but he didn't know how long he would be away from her next. He hoped Granger would be on time for their meeting.

Minerva wasn't in the sitting room when Severus returned, so dropping the bundle of sandwiches on the coffee table, he crossed and knocked on her closed bedroom door.

"Just a minute!" came the reply.

Minerva opened the door and smiled at Severus. "Since I'm not going anywhere or seeing anyone but you and Albus, I thought I'd get ready for bed early tonight." She was wearing a long tartan dressing gown over a nightgown. Her hair was up in a loose bun.

"That's fine. I need to leave again in a few minutes, my love. I am sorry to abandon you, but I will not be long."

Minerva refrained from saying that he would have to return within an hour or so. "That's fine. I'm actually feeling as though this is a bit of a vacation. Particularly once Albus told me he was only going to teach three of the classes, I stopped feeling quite so guilty." She walked into the sitting room, Severus following her.

"You felt guilty?" Severus asked, puzzled.

"Very. Albus already has more to do than any one wizard should attempt. And that was before all of this happened. Knowing that he was worrying about me was hard enough, but then when he said that I was going to need to be absent from the school for several days, I knew that meant even more work for him. Particularly since I am limited in what assistance I can give him while I'm cooped up here." Minerva sat down on one end of the couch and patted the cushion next to her, inviting Severus to sit. "I feel better about it now, though. Albus said he will put off one of his trips until next week so that he can be here with me – with us – and that means that he will at least have a little more time to take care of other school business, most of which I help him with."

"I am sorry, Minerva. You should never have felt guilty. This is all my fault. And I am sorry for the trouble I am causing Albus, as well."

"I know. But we've discussed this before. You know how this came about. I don't think it's useful to dwell on the specific event anymore just to place blame. What's done is done. It can't be changed. We take what we find and we move on. Full stop."

"I was thinking only a few minutes ago that you are as wise as your namesake, Minerva." He shyly caressed her face before leaning forward to kiss her, hoping she would not turn her cheek to him. When, to his delight, she did not, Severus kissed her very softly and meekly on her lips. He kissed her again and became nervous. Now what should he do? He sat back and looked down at her face, which, to him, was the most beautiful he had ever seen. He ran his finger across her lips. "Minerva, I hope you will not think me foolish," he said softly, "but I do not know how to kiss you. Obviously, I have. But I think . . . I think that I could please you, if you would let me, but I do not know how."

"I see. It's all right, Severus. We all have different experiences and expectations. I rather liked the last kisses you gave me. Um, if you were to kiss me as you have been kissing me the last few days – those tender, sweet kisses – that would be a good start. We can move on from there. How does that sound?"

Severus nodded. He had been gazing at her lips as she spoke, as if he were enthralled. He bent toward her once more and kissed her, a mere graze of lip on lip, then he repeated the same movement, first on both lips, then just her lower lip. He then gently moved his lips against hers, relishing the feel of their softness. As he continued to kiss her, Minerva responded, allowing her lips to move with his, then returning his kisses. Enraptured, Severus began to kiss her throat again, pushing her dressing gown aside as he sought her creamy skin. His fingers moved on ahead of his mouth as he made his way down toward her right breast; when they encountered her nightgown, they pushed that lower, then moved back to her shoulder and eased her loose gown down her arm. Severus moaned as his lips moved further along her breast, his hazy brain only dimly aware that her nipple was close by. His hand moved again, slipping tentatively beneath the thin material of her gown and finding her breast, firm yet soft beneath his fingers.

Minerva allowed his exploration, watching through half-open eyes as he kissed and touched her chest and her right breast. When he slipped her gown from her shoulder then reached beneath it to touch her breast so carefully, a slight thrill went through her, whether from his touch or from the intensity of his concentration, she was not sure, but before he could uncover her breast more fully, Minerva gently redirected his attention to her neck and removed his fingers from their exploration. He kissed her neck a few times more, and Minerva felt another rush of pleasure as his warm breath and soft lips found one of her sensitive spots.

"Here, Severus," she said, pushing him up and away from her. "Kiss me once more, then you must gather yourself together. It is time for you to leave."

He looked at Minerva with a dazed expression, but rather than kiss her, he sat back. "You should not allow me such liberties, Minerva. I have said I cannot help myself."

"I hope this is not going to lead you to say that I must loathe your touch. We have had our final conversation on that point, and I will hear nothing of it again," she said firmly.

"No, no, I just wish to preserve your dignity, my love. Whether you loathe my touch or not, having me drooling and breathing all over you like that . . . it can't be pleasant."

"You might be surprised, Severus. And you have not drooled on me yet. I will assuredly tell you if you begin to do so. Now you must leave. I will be here when you return – obviously – and we will have a very serious discussion. In the meantime, I would like you to consider, if you are able, what it is I might mean when I tell you repeatedly that I will not allow you to die." Minerva gave the befuddled wizard a gentle push. "Go on. You said you had to be somewhere. You should be good for at least an hour and a half with what you – er, we – just did."

Severus stood and went to his bedroom. His mind cleared some as he approached the fireplace in the corner of the room. Hermione Granger in the library. Chocolates. Money. He patted his robes. Yes, his moneybag was safely stowed in his trouser pocket. To his office first, then the library to find the girl and the chocolates.

Severus approached the Restricted Section and became alarmed. There were several students there. How could he and Granger make the exchange right in front of them?

Suddenly, Hermione was at his side. "Professor Snape! I am sorry I am late for detention in your office, sir. I lost track of time." Somehow she managed to lead him from the library whilst making it look as though she was the one being hustled along.

Outside the library, she looked around, then she said in a low voice, "Professor Slughorn gave us an assignment that requires us to do research in the Restricted Section. I did not know until this afternoon."

Severus was about to respond, when two figures came toward them. Two unpleasantly familiar figures.

"Hermione!" Harry greeted her. "I thought we were meeting in the Restricted Section later." He cast a poisonous glance at Snape.

"Yes, later. 'Later' does not mean 'now,' Harry. I have detention."

"Oh. What?" Harry and Ron both looked confused. "You didn't mention it earlier."

"I forgot."

"You forgot?" Ron's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "You never forget anything like that."

"Well, she did. I had to fetch her. And as enjoyable as it is to listen to your most scintillating conversation, Miss Granger is already tardy. I doubt she will be returning to do your work for you tonight."

Severus turned and began to walk away down the hall, expecting Hermione to follow him. Then he heard Potter, not even bothering to whisper this time, "Don't let that git keep you in detention all night, Hermione. We'll wait up for you."

Severus froze. He felt as though all of the warmth drained from his body, all of those positive feelings he had gathered to himself through Minerva's kisses simply washed away. Potter. Always Potter. And Potter was right. He was just a git.

Severus was rigid, unable to move forward, unable to turn and spit the venom he usually had in such plentiful supply. Hermione said nothing. She did not defend him as she had earlier. His face began to crumple. Why couldn't they all just leave him alone? Then he felt an odd sensation. A ripply tingle of magic. He felt a bit better. Not exactly happy, but he didn't feel as though he was going to collapse in tears because some little shite had called him a name.

Then Hermione was in front of him, walking slightly ahead of him. "Sorry my friends detained me, Professor. I will make up the time, I promise."

Severus began to walk along behind her. "I will make certain of it, Miss Granger." She glanced back at him and winked. Good heavens. The girl had winked at him. Well, he supposed they were co-conspirators.

"Get a move on, Miss Granger; we haven't all night!" He picked up his pace, feeling marginally better.

They reached his office, Severus whispered the password and opened the door, then Hermione immediately closed it and cast an Imperturbable and a Colloportus. She turned to him. "I'm sorry about casting the Cheering Charm on you without your permission, sir."

"Is that what that was?"

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid it wasn't very good. I'm better at nonverbal jinxes than Cheering Charms. Did it help, though?"

"Yes. It did. I don't know how you knew . . . you were behind me."

"Your shoulders, sir."

"My shoulders?"

"Yes. They slumped just a bit, and then you froze and didn't move or do anything. I didn't read very much about that spell that Pansy cast, but I understand that it can make a person . . . I'm sorry to use this word, sir, but it can make a person somewhat more vulnerable than usual. And of course I noticed today in class that you weren't yourself. In addition to giving me points and making your request, that is – and I have the chocolates here for you!"

Severus was alarmed. "Do you think anyone else noticed? How was I different?"

"You were quieter. You didn't take any points – you didn't give any, either, except the five to me," she answered, blushing. "But I don't think anyone else noticed. They were too amused by Pansy's ineffective use of the Protego. I'm sure everyone still thinks you are a nasty bastard, sir."

"Oh. Good. I guess." Ironic: he almost falls apart because Potter calls him a git, but then he's happy that everyone believes him to be a nasty bastard.

"Except me, sir. Well. Not exactly."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Well, I don't think you're only a nasty bastard, sir. That's just one side of you; that's all I meant."

"Hmmpf. Well." Severus gazed into space.

"Umm, sir? The chocolates?" She pulled two heart-shaped boxes from the large brown paper bag she was carrying, one very large one and one slightly smaller, then she pulled out a small package wrapped in brown paper. "I also bought some boomslang skin." She blushed. "I thought it would be good if I actually went to the apothecary, just in case I got stopped on the way back and someone wondered why I didn't have any potion ingredients. Besides, um, I owe you some. From second year."

"Second year?"

"Yes, sir. I needed some for a potion. It was a difficult ingredient to obtain."

Severus blinked at her. "What potion was that, Miss Granger? Even in my current state I can think of no second-year potion that requires boomslang skin."

She muttered something in response.

"You will need to speak up."

"Polyjuice Potion."

"Ah, yes, the first time you ended up in the infirmary that year. I wasn't sure what you had done to yourself."

"The potion was fine. It worked very well on the two other subjects. I simply added the wrong final ingredient."

Severus's lips twitched. "You mistook cat hair for human hair?"

Hermione turned red and nodded.

"Hmmpf. Well, I do not teach Potions any longer. I have sufficient personal supply of boomslang skin. I suggest you keep it – or give it to Professor Slughorn, if your conscience requires it."

Hermione stuffed the package into her book bag. "I hope the chocolates are all right, sir. I tried to stay away from any iffy flavours. And I did make an addition, I hope you don't mind."

"What was that?"

"Well, they had some nice candied ginger, and I know that Professor McGonagall enjoys ginger newts, so I thought she might like it. The chocolates are all in the middle of the boxes and the candied ginger makes a nice border around it . . . I thought."

Severus took the lid from one of the boxes. It did make a nice border. "That was very thoughtful of you, Miss Granger." Tears sprang to his eyes.

"It's okay, sir. I'm sure you would have preferred to pick them out yourself, so I just did the best I could. Um, do you need another Cheering Charm, sir?" she asked quietly.

"No, no. I am quite cheered. This is Severus Snape, cheered." He tried to laugh.

"Oh! Okay, then." Hermione blinked at him, somewhat bemused. "I suppose I need to stay a while so it looks as though I actually had detention."

"Yes, right. Detention." Severus took a deep breath. "Tell them I had you write lines. I'm sure you can think of something appropriate and git-like. I, however, cannot stay much longer, Miss Granger. Please feel free to use the desk. Shut the door behind you and the wards will automatically reset." Albus had altered his wards for him because he no longer had the ability to control them. They were all based on a single password. Quite insecure, but practical for the moment.

"That's fine, sir. I will leave just before curfew, then."

"Good. Oh, how much do I owe you for the chocolates?"

"Three galleons and eight sickles."

Severus pulled his moneybag from his trouser pocket and counted out the galleons and sickles.

"And for the boomslang skin?"

"But you aren't keeping it, sir."

"I had not heard that you were independently wealthy, Miss Granger, unless you have discovered a money tree somewhere. You would not have purchased the boomslang skin if I had not sent you on my errand. How much was it?"

"One galleon fourteen sickles, sir. I will give it to Professor Slughorn."

"I don't particularly care what you do with it, Hermione – as long as you stay out of trouble," he added, remembering Minerva's admonishment about the students being under his care. He shoved the money across the desk toward her.

"Okay, thanks!" Hermione smiled.

He picked up the large box of chocolates and walked toward the Floo. "I really must go now." He was beginning to feel the uneasiness that preceded the anxiety and trembling that eventually led to him collapsing in a twitching, incoherent heap.

"Sir – your chocolates." She held out the other, marginally smaller, box.

"I hope you like candied ginger, Hermione." When she looked at him blankly, he said, "Even I recognise that one does not usually have the recipient of a gift purchase it herself, but it's the best I could do. It's for your help. A thank-you."

"Oh! For me? Really?"

"Yes. I hope you enjoy them. Good-night." He took a pinch of Floo-Powder from the mantle. "Miss Granger, you will forget this conversation, but, most especially, you will forget the password I am about to use."

"I assume you don't mean that literally, sir."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Every now and then, Miss Granger, I begin to wonder whether I am wrong about you –" Hermione just stared at him. "I begin to think that perhaps I am wrong that you aren't as big a dunderhead as I usually have to teach." He tossed the Floo-Powder into the small flame Albus had set to burn there earlier that day, and he called out clearly, "Credo et expecto!" and Flooed back to his beloved Minerva, his large, heart-shaped box of chocolates and candied ginger clutched to his chest.