Fifteen: Recovery

Chapter Fifteen: Recovery

Minerva never knew how it was that Poppy managed to hear everything that went on in the school when she spent almost all of her time in the Hospital Wing, but lunch went by quickly as Poppy caught Minerva up on all the doings of students and staff that she had missed over the last few days, including the fact that Poppy had devoted an entire private room in the infirmary to the cards, flowers, and sweets that had arrived for her during her "illness."

"It was just the normal trickle of cards from the students, a few bouquets from other teachers, and Gryffindor sent an extra large box of Bertie's, but then after your illness was reported on in the Daily Prophet, it seemed as though every witch or wizard in Britain whom you have ever taught thought they should send a get-well card. You'll have quite a time answering them all."

Minerva smiled. "That is kind of them. I am sorry about everything you had to deal with over the last few days, Poppy. Especially Melina. That put you in a terribly awkward position."

"Melina apologised before she left, but she seemed . . . strange."

"What do you mean?"

"It was more than just discovering that you weren't ill and were sequestered away. I've known Melina a long time. She learned something else that disturbed her, I could tell."

"She did, accidentally, but she received no explanation. Fortunately, she asked no questions; she knew better."

"Hmmpf. I suppose you're referring to my direct and somewhat pointed questions after you took that potion." Poppy sighed. "I do wish I knew what was going on, but I understand. It's Order business."

Minerva hesitated, then said, "It wasn't precisely Order business. In a way it was, and you did help save a life. I just . . . I couldn't tell you then. And I shouldn't tell you now."

"You know I wouldn't repeat it."

"I know, but I'm not the only one involved."

"Mmm. Severus, may I guess?"

Minerva nodded.

"I saw him at breakfast, as surly as ever. He seems fine." Poppy looked at her. "Since you didn't need the potion he is brewing today, I assume he didn't need to go to Mongolia for the ingredients, but needed to be elsewhere. Am I right?"

Minerva nodded again.

"Since someone obviously did go to Mongolia and brought back an enormous amount of magical Mongolian creeperwort, may I presume that, although Severus didn't actually go to Mongolia, someone went in his stead?"

"You always were too clever for a Hufflepuff," Minerva said.

Poppy just laughed. "Being a Hufflepuff, as you know, is not antithetical to being clever! So, what did you need with Severus – or did Severus need with you?"

It was Minerva's turn to chuckle. "I would tell you . . . I want to. But it's also somewhat embarrassing. And not only for me. If I were to tell you, you could never let on to Severus that you know a thing. It would be terrible for him, and believe me, he has suffered enough from the situation already without adding additional embarrassment for him. And I really don't want any sympathy, either. Or at least, only the right kind. I don't want to hear you saying anything negative about Severus, as you did that evening in the infirmary."

Poppy raised her eyebrows. She nodded. "I've seen some of what he's gone through, and although I don't find him the most congenial person in the world, I am quite capable of refraining from making any insulting remarks, particularly if it would bother you. He does have some positive traits; he just happens to advertise his most unpleasant ones." She huffed then. "At least he's no longer a Death Eater – a real one, anyway. And if Albus could forgive him and allow him to work in a school full of children, then I can be collegial. Or try to be. I've never been able to forget what the Death Eaters did during the time after Severus took the Mark, though, and I always wonder . . . I wonder whose blood is on his hands. I may not know precisely what he did, but I still can't look at him and completely forget the kinds of things he must have done."

Minerva sighed. "I know. And I haven't forgotten all of that, but I have come to see Severus as someone who has grown beyond that time, someone who is doing all that he can to atone. And if Severus hadn't been there doing his master's will, someone else would have been, and at least he did come to Albus and offer his help. He came to regret what he had done, joining them, but it was only when his regret and revulsion became greater than his fear of . . . of him, that he could finally break away and turn to Albus and the Order. Of course, because of our suspicions that there was a spy within the Order, only Albus and I knew of his defection back at the time." Minerva blinked hard. "Who would have thought that, in the end, Pettigrew was the real traitor to us all, and that Severus Snape would be true to the Order . . . and to Lily . . . Pettigrew, who was included in their little group despite his less appealing personality and his lack of wit and talent, and Snape, who had been reviled by them. Snape did evil, but he knows it and is trying to make amends. Pettigrew was a traitor who did evil in betraying his friends, then he allowed an innocent man to be sent to Azkaban, and lay in wait all those years for the return of his master; Snape did evil and repented. All that he has done in the last fifteen years has been in pursuit of redemption, and what he does now when he returns to Voldemort, he does only because Albus requires it of him. If he could, Severus would leave it all behind him. And he believes he will die making amends, and he has accepted that." Minerva shook her head. "I will never truly understand him, but I have come to respect him and care for him. At first, I forgave him for myself, because I had to, despite all I knew or guessed of his activities as a Death Eater. Even when I couldn't bear the sight of him, I behaved as though he were simply another colleague, and soon, that is what he became, and my forgiveness . . . my forgiveness became genuine, and for his sake, not just for my own."

"You probably know far more about him and what he has done, the good and the bad, than I do, and if you have forgiven him, perhaps he is worthy of it," Poppy said.

"I believe he is worthy of it, but one can't only forgive those who are worthy. How are we to know, after all? And sometimes, it is the forgiveness that brings repentance. To withhold it can be to withhold the opportunity for repentance and atonement. In the end, it is the repentance and atonement that allows a person to become whole again. My forgiveness, or your forgiveness, or anyone else's, can open the door for a person to find redemption, and even if it does not, it can bring us healing as we forgive. At least, it did for me," Minerva finished quietly.

Poppy nodded in understanding. "I see that. And it is clear to me that he is devoted to Albus – so much so, it is hard for me to understand how he continues to fool You-Know-Who. Although I suppose that his public demeanor is nasty and cold enough to perpetuate the belief that he is fooling Albus rather than You-Know-Who." Poppy hesitated, clearly torn about what she wanted to say next. "It's just . . . how do we know that he really is working against You-Know-Who? I know that Albus is not easily taken in, but look at what happened with Sirius and Pettigrew. Or even what Crouch did to Alastor. Of course, he took in all of us . . . I know that Albus isn't omniscient, and I don't expect him to be, but who's to say that he is not mistaken about Snape?"

"I am completely sure that he is not. I didn't have any real doubts before, but now, I am completely sure of Severus's loyalty. And not simply because he is paying dearly for it. I . . . Poppy, I have seen some parts of him these last few days which I don't think that even he had been aware of before." Minerva took a deep breath. "Please, if I tell you this, what was going on, you must not only promise me never to tell anyone of it, but also never to treat Severus differently than you do now – you can't show him any pity or sympathy, and you can't be any kinder to him than you are now. He would feel humiliated if he knew that anyone else was aware of this. There are only two people other than Severus and I who know about this, and one of them doesn't know most of it. I feel . . . uncomfortable sharing this with anyone myself. Perhaps I shouldn't . . ."

"I promise, I will treat Severus with the same professionalism and collegiality I always have. And it seems as though you need to talk to someone about it. I presume that one of the others who knows about this is Albus. Who is the other? Lupin?"

"No." Minerva shook her head. "He knows something was up, that it is quite likely that I wasn't actually ill, but he doesn't know, nor does the person who went to Mongolia in Severus's stead. The other person who knows is actually a student; it was unavoidable. Fortunately, the student is completely reliable, I believe, and would do nothing that would hurt either Severus or me or that would endanger Severus's work for the Order."

"Well, I would guess it has to be Hermione Granger, then – don't look so surprised, Minerva! It would have to be a student who had a knowledge, or at least a suspicion, about Snape's double role, and who is on the side of the Order, and that eliminates all but a few – the Weasleys, Potter, Granger, and I can't think of any other students who would know. Potter clearly dislikes Snape, and although I think he could be trusted in theory with a secret of that sort, I can't imagine that you would say that he would do nothing to hurt Snape. I don't believe he would do or say anything that would openly endanger him, but if this is humiliating . . . well, I like Potter, but I do think he would be tempted to exploit that aspect of it. I think the Weasleys, Ginevra and Ronald, could be trusted, as well, but I think that he is likely to share whatever he knows with Potter – or, at least, he would be tempted to – and so I don't think you would describe him as 'completely reliable,' either. So that leaves Ginevra and Hermione. It was just a hunch, actually, that it is Hermione rather than Ginevra, but you confirmed it by your reaction."

"Hmmpf. I suppose I should just tell you the rest then . . . Last Friday, there was a quarrel between two Slytherins. Hermione was there and attempted to intervene. Draco Malfoy was also there, but as the two Slytherins were arguing over him, he found it amusing, apparently. Severus overheard the argument and came out of his office to see what was going on. To make a long story short, one of the Slytherins cast a spell aimed at Malfoy. Instead of hitting him, however, it struck Severus. At first, it seemed as though the spell had no untoward effects, and Severus disciplined the students and sent them on their way; however, after returning to his office, he began to feel peculiar. Because of the nature of the curse, he was uncomfortable going to see you, apparently, unsure of whether you could be discreet –"

"What!? As though I would discuss a patient –"

"Just forget about that for the moment, all right, Poppy? Anyway, Severus decided to come see me. He thought that perhaps the spell had been miscast or that because he wasn't the intended target, it had had some peculiar effect on him, and he thought perhaps I could help him find a counter-spell. When I opened the door to him, he took one look at me and arcs of colour shot from his body and he collapsed."

"Oh, my word! Whatever the spell was, it must have been waiting for a specific trigger before it took effect."

"Precisely." Minerva took a deep breath and swallowed before continuing. "Have you heard of the Adfectus class of spell?" At Poppy's nod, Minerva steeled herself, then said, "The student had cast the Actus Adfectus Amor Verissimus at Malfoy, and it hit Severus. When I opened the door, the spell was activated." She sat and waited while Poppy took in what she had said.

"Oh, my. And the Actus . . . but . . . this means . . . Oh, Minerva, I am so sorry – I gave you such a hard time the other day in the infirmary. No wonder Severus was behaving so oddly." Then Poppy froze and her eyes widened. "There is only one known way to release someone from that spell."

Minerva nodded. "Yes. Only one way. And we found no other, despite our best effort."

Shock was written all over Poppy's face. When her friend said nothing, seeming to be struck speechless, Minerva said, "It has been a very difficult few days."

"I can only imagine," Poppy said with a whisper. "It . . . was it terrible?"

"No, not terrible. Not the way you are probably thinking. It was tiresome over those days to have Severus needing to express his feelings every hour or so, and his expressions increased in . . . their intimacy over time. But because of the effect of the spell, Severus . . . he was not his usual self. Although I came to miss that sharp, acerbic side to him." Minerva sighed. "And because I had a few days to become used to the idea, and to him, it was not too awful in the end. And he was released from the spell." Poppy had gone from looking shocked to looking distressed. "Really, Poppy, he tried to make it easy for me. It bothered him terribly that I had to . . . tolerate his affections. He offered several times to die rather than continue under the spell. He almost committed suicide, partly to free himself from the spell, but also to free me, and Albus, from his presence. This is how I am certain that Severus is truly on our side. And, as Albus said from the beginning, no truly Dark Wizard would have Minerva McGonagall as his true love." Minerva quirked a smile.

"Oh, I don't know what to say, Min! I am so sorry – for you all. This must have been very difficult for all three of you. How did Albus handle it?"

"He was so concerned about me, and about Severus, as well, that he pushed aside his own feelings on the matter."

"Typical," said Poppy with a snort. "But I assume he was not happy with the situation."

"No, and I knew that he wasn't, but he had thought from the very start that it was likely that, well, that Severus and I would have to, you know, and he was very conscious that his distress at the thought could make things harder for me. He also was in his 'crisis mode,' and I don't think that he allowed himself to think too much about the personal aspects of the situation. It was only after . . . he felt inadequate, I suppose you could say, as though he should have been able to save me or protect me from this, and although I know that he has faith in my love for him, and that faith didn't waver, he worried that after having Severus in that way, I would not want him anymore, or that I would find Severus more . . . physically satisfying."

Poppy laughed shortly. "I cannot imagine that. Well, not to be unfair to Severus, of course, but I can't imagine you lusting after him when you have Albus, especially knowing how you feel about him. But I suppose I can see how Albus might feel insecure that way." She smirked. "May I gather from the little hearts on your neck that you reassured Albus of his . . . desirability?"

Minerva blushed and reflexively raised her hand to her throat, covering the intertwined hearts Albus had left her with. "Yes, you may gather that."

"Very nice job of it – the hearts, I mean." Poppy's eyes danced with mirth. "I don't remember seeing anything quite like that before – and especially not on Minerva McGonagall. Or is that why you wear high collars when you're teaching?"

"Oh, stop it!" Minerva said, but she smiled. "Albus actually left them just before he Flooed to get you. I was in the bedroom admiring them when you arrived. We had a bit of a . . . misunderstanding, I suppose you could say, earlier. He gave these to me in order to show that, well, that we belong together, I suppose. And since you know . . ." Minerva shrugged. "I usually put a Glamour over any marks, or even just cast a quick healing charm, whether they are anyplace where they would show or not. But after this week, and yesterday with Severus, it was just, I don't know –"

"It was important to you to show to yourself, to him, and to someone else, that you two belong to one another, no matter what happens?" Poppy asked.

"Precisely. I don't know if I actually realised that, myself. But you are right. No one can ever come between us. I belong to Albus and he, to me, although he doesn't like using those terms, himself."

"I don't even know what to say to all this, Minerva. It must have been rather revolting to have to have, um, relations with Snape, even if you had become used to him over the past few days."

"I wouldn't say it was revolting, Poppy," Minerva said thoughtfully, wanting to explain to Poppy what she had experienced. "It would have been that first day, or any time early on. But it's not just that I became used to him and his touch, although that helped, but Albus advised me to try to enjoy it." Minerva ignored Poppy's astonished expression and continued. "And although I doubted I would be able to, I decided it was important for me not to feel used and degraded at the end, and I also didn't want Severus to feel as though he was grudgingly tolerated. Albus also said that Severus had experienced little love in his life and reminded me of what he had suffered over the last years; my compassion and my affection for Severus helped me to, not to enjoy it, but to accept it. I actually thought I might enjoy it more than I did in the end, that last day, since there were times over the last few days when Severus's attempts to bring me pleasure actually did that, but somehow I couldn't let go enough, and it was more of a physical exercise than anything else. I could scarcely wait for him to be done, to be honest."

"I can't imagine . . . but I suppose I see what you mean. You wouldn't want to feel like a prostitute, after all, so finding some meaning in it, some kind of connection between the two of you other than the necessity to free him from the curse, probably did help. But after all these years with Albus – and knowing you as I do, I doubt you have ever seriously found another wizard attractive, except in a theoretical sort of way – it still must have been emotionally difficult for you."

"It was. Oddly enough, or perhaps not oddly, it really only hit me entirely after it was all over, just as it did with Albus, though for different reasons. I know that Albus loves me, and I have never doubted his desire for me, but I feared that after doing this with Severus, Albus would find me sullied in some way. My rational self was telling me that was ridiculous, but I still feared that, and it wasn't helped by the fact that I felt disgusted with what I had done, as well. Not as I was doing it, but afterward, you know? I felt that I didn't want Albus to touch me until I was completely rid of Severus's touch, and at the same time, I wanted him to reassure me that he still wanted me. That was a part of our misunderstanding . . . he thought I needed time to myself, and he also worried that after having been with a younger wizard, I might not want him anymore. But we got through that together." Tears came to Minerva's eyes. "I have the most wonderful wizard in the world. He has been so perfect . . . " She raised her hand to her throat again. "Even after I said something unfairly to him this morning, he was more concerned with me and why I might have said it than he was with his own feelings, although I clearly hurt him. I didn't intend to . . . I just am still a bit on edge after this week, I suppose. There is so much that happened . . . I can't tell you all of it, Poppy, but it has been a very difficult several days."

Poppy nodded and reached across the table to rest her hand on her friend's. "I know that Albus will be returning soon, but why don't we sit together on the couch for a bit, and you can tell me whatever you feel comfortable with," she suggested. "And I would be happy to listen at any time."

Minerva nodded, and the two witches moved over to the sofa to talk, where Albus found them ten minutes later when he popped through the fireplace in a rush of green flame. He smiled when he saw them together; despite the traces of tears on Minerva's face, she looked relaxed and happy. She certainly was happy to see him, and she sprang from the couch and embraced him, leaning into his chest.

"Good afternoon, Poppy!" Albus said. "I'm glad to see that the two of you had a nice lunch." He kissed the top of Minerva's head. Uncharacteristically, Minerva's embrace wasn't just a quick hug that held the promise of more later when they were in private. Albus rubbed her back with his good hand.

"Hello, Albus. Yes, we had a nice lunch and a good talk. I'm glad that you sent me." Poppy smiled. "But I think that I need to get back to work now, and I'm sure you two would like time to yourselves."

Minerva stepped back and turned to Poppy. "I still have some things I'd like to talk to you about, but they'll keep for another day."

Poppy walked over to the fireplace to Floo back to the Headmaster's office. "You know I'm always happy to provide a friendly ear – and to give advice, if asked!"

Minerva nodded and gave her friend a quick hug.

"Thank you, Poppy," Albus said, "I can see that this was one of my brighter ideas." He leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. "I am very glad Minerva has a friend like you."

Poppy blushed and said, "Well, Minerva has always been a good friend to me, as well, as have you, Albus. If you ever need to talk . . . " She knew he wouldn't talk to her, he never did, but it seemed the thing to offer.

"I appreciate that," Albus answered.

"Bye, Poppy, thanks again," Minerva said as her friend took a pinch of Floo-Powder from the container on the mantle.

After Poppy had left, Minerva turned and embraced Albus. They stood in relaxed silence for a while, then Albus said, "I presume from what you both said that you told Poppy about the spell."

"Yes. I hope you don't mind. I know we didn't talk about it, and perhaps we should have discussed it, but I honestly hadn't planned on telling her. It seemed too private and embarrassing, for one, but once she was here . . . I just needed to talk to someone who wasn't involved, I guess. And Hermione Granger, at barely seventeen, is hardly a candidate, not to mention that it would be an inappropriate thing to discuss with one of my students."

"It's fine. I didn't know whether you would tell her or not. I . . . I probably would have preferred that you didn't, if asked in advance, although I would not have asked you not to. But now that you have, I think it was good for you, and that is what matters." He kissed her forehead.

"It was. I didn't go into great detail, but it was good just to see that she was sympathetic but not . . . not horrified or disgusted by what I'd done. At least, not very. It helped me to feel as though it was the right thing for me to have done. Not that I had doubts about it, exactly, but I needed to feel that I was still me now . . ." She sighed. "That probably made no sense at all."

"Oh, it makes a sort of sense, my dear. You did something that, under ordinary conditions, would have been completely out of character for you. It isn't surprising that you need reassurance that you are still who you were before. And if I may give my opinion, I would say that you are even more you than you were! You once again showed yourself to be kind, caring, giving, and self-sacrificing, a truly good friend. You were heroic and generous. Everything that I and your friends have come to expect from Minerva McGonagall, as reserved as you so often may seem."

Minerva looked up at Albus and smiled. "And you were also heroic and generous, beyond what anyone in the wizarding world would possibly guess, despite their respect for you."

Albus bent forward and kissed her gently on the lips. "I would give everything for you; it was so hard to watch you have to go through that. I felt helpless."

"You were there for me throughout the time leading up to it, and you returned to me afterward – you needn't mention the slight delay, Albus – and you made me feel whole and helped me return to myself. You did help me, and you also helped Severus. I hope that he has some appreciation of that. Of course, he can't know exactly how generous you were," Minerva said.

"How so?"

"Well, he is not one of those who knows the extent of our relationship. He knows we have been together for decades, but he doesn't know we're actually married. Not that that should matter, of course."

Albus's expression froze, and Minerva pulled back to look at him.

"Does he know, then?" Minerva asked, puzzled. "How? I had thought that not only weren't we telling anyone else, but that it was dangerous for Severus to know in case Voldemort somehow caught a glimpse of it. From what you say, Voldemort still doesn't realise that we are together, although he no doubt has some notion that I'm important to you, but I thought you believed that it might be more difficult for Severus to hide this from him."

"I told him," Albus responded quietly. "After he came out of the guest room yesterday. I hadn't planned it, but it was on my mind, and . . . I was not careful. I asked how you were, and I referred to you as my wife. I am sorry."

Minerva stepped away from him, somewhat stunned, and went to sit on the sofa, leaving room and patting the cushion beside her.

"I am sorry, Minerva," Albus repeated as he sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. "I don't think that Tom will see that. Severus will need to deposit these memories in a Pensieve until he is able to quiet the emotions around them, anyway. I have faith that his Occlumency will keep Tom out of all of his memories surrounding these events, including that fact."

"That's not . . . I am not worried about that. At least, not at the moment. It's just . . . I didn't think he knew. I don't even know how I feel about this." She looked confused. Suddenly she turned to him. "Oh, poor Severus! Oh, Albus, I wish you hadn't, for his sake. He already was humiliated by the entire thing, and he certainly felt that he owed both of us a debt incapable of repayment. That must have disturbed him terribly." She shook her head, an expression of sorrow on her face. "Why didn't you watch your words as usual, Albus? You never call me your wife when speaking with others. Not even with family. You rarely even refer to it when we're together, although that might be a bit strange, actually, but still . . . it's such a habit with you. I don't understand it!"

"I think . . ." Albus took a deep breath and let it out. "I think I was feeling insecure, as you are aware, and there was a part of me that wanted him to know just how great a sacrifice this was for both of us, and, as ashamed as I am to admit it, that you had chosen me and he couldn't have you."

"Oh, Albus! He knew that – and he doesn't want me. Not now that the spell is gone. He still cares for me – all right, he loves me – but he has no desire to be with me in that way, I am sure. Or what little desire he may still have is overshadowed by everything else in his life. And even if I were free, I don't think he'd want to pursue anything with me. You didn't need to tell him we're married." She leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling, turning it all over in her mind. "I am sorry you felt insecure, Albus, and I know that you are past that, but that it was in that moment that your emotions overcame your caution . . . it's just . . . unfortunate. But I understand. After all," she said, looking at Albus and touching his shoulder fondly, "I didn't want to cover the marks, which is my habit, and I hadn't even given it a thought. Of course, I was only seeing Poppy, who already knows about us. But I still understand the urge you must have felt. And since you didn't want to recognise that you were having problems with the situation, it wouldn't have occurred to you to be extra careful in your choice of words."

"If it's any consolation, Minerva, I think that even though he was upset initially, Severus recovered quickly. It certainly couldn't have been a complete shock, after all, if a couple has been together for almost forty years, that they might have got married at some point . . ."

"I know," Minerva said with a sigh, leaning her head against him wearily. "I just keep thinking . . . this spell changed something in Severus, it is bound to continue having an effect on him, and this added fact . . . it seems that it might come back to haunt us, though I don't know how."

Albus pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "I hope not. I don't see how. He has always been loyal to the Order – to me. I don't think this will change anything."

Minerva shrugged. "I don't know." She looked up at Albus and smiled. "But I do know that we have some time together, and I truly do not want to think about or talk about Severus or anything else serious." She stroked his cheek and kissed him lightly. "I think another nap is in order."

Kissing her gently, Albus stood, bringing her with him. "I think the bed for this nap, not the couch this time." His eyes twinkled.

"I really do mean a nap, Albus," Minerva answered, but she smiled, too.

"So do I, my dear, I just think the bed might be more comfortable."

"Mmm." Minerva kissed him, then led him into the bedroom.

Several floors below Albus and Minerva, Severus was decanting the last of the potion into a small brown bottle. Three rows of ten bottles were set out neatly on his soapstone work table, and an expression of satisfaction crossed his face. There was a beauty to brewing, and a satisfaction to bottling a well-made potion, that teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts could never rival. Of course, teaching Potions was somewhat different from brewing potions, but there was the occasional student who was better than the average dunderhead. Unfortunately, unless that student was in Slytherin, it was difficult for him to do anything to encourage her – or him. He would have enjoyed nurturing Hermione Granger's talent in potions, for example. He smirked, remembering her "lesson" to Pansy Parkinson. Even encouraging her in Defence could be satisfying, he thought, but it would be difficult to do so without raising suspicions and having word get back to the Dark Lord that he was coddling a Gryffindor, let alone a friend of Potter's. The situation with Parkinson was different. It had been clear to the Slytherins that he had singled her out for humiliation, and what better way to do that than to use a Gryffindor? Hermione was no doubt seen as merely his tool to humiliate her for some infraction.

Severus sighed. It would soon be time for him to teach Minerva's class. Sixth-year Transfiguration. Albus had given him the lesson plan at lunch. Nothing he couldn't handle, if the students' questions weren't too theoretical, but there were only a few students who might have the intelligence to formulate such a question, and those students were likely to be intelligent enough not to ask it of him. It was quite probable that no one would say anything at all to him, except in answer to one of his questions. It was not a class he would prefer to teach, particularly given the presence of Potter in the class, but it was the least he could do to repay Minerva. What he owed her . . . what he owed her, he could never repay. And she would never demand repayment. She had said that they were friends, and that she had done what she did out of friendship.

Severus began to move the bottles into a small wooden crate, and his hand shook. He would need to ignore what had happened, what Minerva had done for him, put it out of his mind, just as he had sequestered away all of the evil he had done. He was doing what he could to atone for his misdeeds; allowing them to plague him constantly served no useful purpose. If he didn't set this aside, it might keep him from acting effectively against the Dark Lord, and that had been the entire reason for his existence these last fifteen years. What had begun as fear, regret, and disgust, and then moved on to become terror at what he had set in motion, had, over the intervening years, turned to genuine remorse. There was still regret and disgust, of course, and if he weren't afraid, he would be a fool, but what drove him was not fear of what might happen to him or what he might lose, but remorse for what he had done and a desire to try to make it right. Not that what he had done could ever be excused or rectified, but before he died, he might be able to do more good than he had done evil. Somehow, though, Severus didn't think that good and evil could be measured that way, and that the most he could hope for would be to die without hating himself. Albus spoke of redemption and forgiveness, and although one small part of him hoped there were such things, Severus found it difficult to believe in them.

He hefted the box in his arms; the potion, despite its indefinite shelf-life, was sensitive to magic, and he preferred not to Levitate it all the way to the Hospital Wing. A slight smile crossed his lips. This potion was hard to come by – both because of the rarity of the ingredients and the skill required to brew it. There would be dozens of patients who would benefit from the work he had done that day. It was effective against several magical diseases, not only against febrile magical distemper, far more effective than most of the other potions in use. Severus felt an unaccustomed sense of warmth creep over him as he thought of the patients and their families. He wasn't entirely sure what it was he was feeling, even upon reflection, but it was not a bad sensation. It was rather like the satisfaction that he felt when he brewed the potion, but it was more than that. Unbidden, the memory arose in Severus's mind of Hermione's face when she realised that the second box of chocolates were for her. It was something like that feeling, actually, the feeling he'd had when she had smiled at him in her surprise and delight. And not unlike the feeling that had come over him when she had winked at him that second time, last night in his office.

Severus gritted his teeth. There was no point in remembering that, either. Whatever Albus had said about "allies within the Order," by the time that Hermione was a member of the Order, he would either be dead or wish he were, spending all of his days and nights as a Death Eater. And she would believe him a traitor. As would Minerva. Severus suspected that the reason that Albus didn't tell Minerva yet about the Unbreakable Vow and his plans to deal with it – or not to deal with it, more accurately – was that he would find it too difficult to carry out if he did. Minerva would not stand for it, and if he persisted anyway, Minerva would be made very unhappy by it. Severus could understand wanting to protect Minerva from unhappiness, but he thought that she might be more unhappy, in the end, not knowing. If she didn't figure out that it had all been a plot between the two of them, she would still have to deal with the loss of Albus and with his own apparent betrayal of Dumbledore, of her, and of the Order, and if she did figure it out, which she might well do, she would feel betrayed by them both.

Biting back a sigh, Severus approached the Hospital Wing and saw the matron coming toward him from the other direction. He could not think about this now, but he determined he would increase his efforts to have Albus find an alternative to the one he seemed resigned to. And he would continue his work on a more effective potion for the curse on Albus's hand, despite Albus's instructions for him not to "waste his time" on it.

"Madam Pomfrey." Severus nodded at the school matron.

"Professor." Poppy nodded in response. "That's the potion?"

"Yes, thirty bottles, each a quarter litre."

"I think I will keep one of the bottles for Hogwarts, possibly two, and send the rest on to St. Mungo's." Poppy removed the light ward on the door to her office and opened it. "I know they will appreciate it, but they are also paying us for it. The Headmaster has authorised seventy percent of the payment to go to you, with the rest to Hogwarts. Would you prefer it to be deposited to your Gringott's account or to have it in cash? Cash would be convenient," she said, without saying for whom it would be convenient. She closed the door behind them.

"As you say, cash is convenient," Severus replied, placing the heavy box on her desk. "I repeat what you likely know, but this potion is sensitive to magic, and it would be best not to Levitate it or to transport it via Apparition. Portkey or Floo should be fine, however, if it is well cushioned."

"I had actually thought to send it via the Hogsmeade train into London, but it would be easier to send it via Portkey or Floo. I will let Healer Fastnott know; he can send someone for it."

Severus nodded and turned to leave.

"I just saw Minerva, Professor, and I thought you might like to know that she is doing well."

Severus moved his head slightly. "Really."

"I thought you might like to know, since you've been gone from the castle and you were here when she took that potion."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, but I had no doubt that she was quite well. I was very aware that she was not genuinely ill, after all."

"Of course. She will return to her teaching on Tuesday, I believe."

Severus nodded, still not turning to face her.

"Well, thank you again for brewing this potion. It is sure to help many folk recover from some very nasty illnesses."

"Indeed. Good afternoon, Madam Pomfrey."

"Good afternoon, Professor."

Poppy stared at the door after the wizard in midnight robes had closed it behind him. She still could not completely comprehend what it was that Minerva had to do with him in order to free him from the spell, let alone what she must have endured spending five days with him. Of course, Minerva had emphasised that the spell had caused Severus to shed his nasty persona, but it was hard for Poppy to imagine that there was anything at all underneath that mask. Not that he was nasty with the staff – well, he was, but it was more in the form of barbed wit accompanied by a superior sneer than it was the kind of nastiness she heard that he inflicted on the students – but it seemed as though the man had no life outside his work and no personality beyond his bat-of-the-dungeons persona. But if Minerva was a true love . . . Poppy shook her head. She understood what Minerva had meant when she said that a truly Dark Wizard could never have loved Minerva McGonagall; there must be something beneath that sneer and those voluminous robes other than a reformed Death Eater. And something behind those dark eyes of his, something other than black, cavernous emptiness . . .

A shudder went through Poppy. She turned to the box of carefully bottled potion, preparing to send twenty-eight bottles to St. Mungo's, where it could do good and save lives, and wondered about the wizard who had brewed it.

Minerva rolled over slightly, waking to the reassuring weight and warmth of Albus lying beside her, his magic tingling slightly against hers. They had changed into their nightwear, but the sheet that they had pulled up was now only covering their legs. Careful not to disturb his right arm, which encircled her, she turned fully to face him and bury her face in his chest.

"Awake, my sweet one?"

Minerva looked up. "I thought you were still asleep."

"No, I've been enjoying watching you, though," he said softly.

"Did you sleep?"

"Yes, some. It was lovely to lie here and feel you next to me, smelling your hair and hearing you snore –"

He was interrupted by a gentle poke to his ribs. "Albus Dumbledore! I do not snore!"

"Of course not, my dear . . . you merely . . . breathe somewhat forcefully," he teased.

"Hmpf! Well, you could always move to another room – or cast a charm on your ears – if it bothers you!"

"Oh, I prefer to hear you snore – er, breathe heavily – it's comforting. It really is, believe it or not." He pressed his lips against her forehead. "Though I did tell a little bit of a fib. You only snored briefly this afternoon; you stopped some time ago."

Minerva laughed slightly and put her arm around him. "I can almost be grateful to Parkinson this afternoon for having given us this time together. I miss you terribly, Albus. I try not to let it show, because I know you have to do what you have to do, and I don't want to make it any harder on you, but there are times when I just . . . it almost feels as though I am starving, I need you so, just to be with me, near me, to hear your voice, to be able to see you." She sighed with contentment. "To lie close to you like this." She snuggled against him.

"I miss you, too, when I am away, but I suppose it is different. I know what I am doing and that I will be returning to you, and you must simply wait here. I am sorry it is so hard for you, but it makes me doubly glad that we have this time together now. I am glad you told me, though. I had wondered whether you were so used to it, to me, to my comings and goings, that you didn't really notice when I was gone. I believed you were happy when I returned, of course." He smiled. "You always made that very clear. But I thought perhaps that I had so neglected you and our life that one price I was paying was that you no longer noticed my absence."

"Well, I won't make things hard on you by trying to hold you back next time you prepare to leave – even though I sometimes wish I could just hold onto you and not let go – but I will remind you that I will miss you and will be waiting for your return to me."

"Mmm." He kissed her hair. "I love you, Minerva. Those words seem so inadequate for what I feel for you, they always have, and that hasn't changed except to grow more true."

Minerva raised her head and looked into his eyes. "I know. I feel the same."

She kissed his mouth, gently rolling him over onto his back, continuing to kiss him, moving her hands up to hold his face in her hands, lying on top of him, glad for his solidity beneath her. As her lips drew his into her mouth one more time and her tongue lightly licked them, Albus moaned, and the vibration caused a thrill to pass through her. He had put his left arm around her, and his hand was gently caressing her back, and now her legs, then pulling her nightgown up and cupping her buttocks before gently caressing her legs again, then straying between them. She felt his fingers lightly stroking her inner thigh, where he knew she was so sensitive, and her kiss grew more passionate, and when his fingers moved higher, she broke away to gasp.

"I thought we were just going to . . . take a nap . . . oohh," she said. "Oh, Albus, you shouldn't."

"Mmm. Just lie still, my love." He had put his right arm around her, and his left hand traced a path again from her thighs to her crux and back down again. "Just relax here." He kissed her temple before she turned her head again and began to kiss him once more.

His fingers caressed her inner thighs, first one, then the other, always pausing in their circuit to stroke her crux briefly. Soon, Minerva was gasping between kisses, and her pulse was pounding. She moaned finally, saying his name, and his teasing touches became more fervent until they focussed solely on her folds and her nub, with occasionally explorations of her entrance.

When Minerva made a move as if to sit up or roll over, Albus pressed his right arm against her back and whispered, "Lie still, my love, lie still and feel . . ."

Finally, Minerva was panting against his chest as his fingers quickened their strokes, and she was gripping his shoulders tightly.

"You are my love, my one love, my dearest, my sweet delight, my Minerva," he murmured, "and I love to touch you, to feel you breathe against me, and to hear you gasp in pleasure. My love, my love, my Minerva."

As his words flowed over her, her right hand moved to his head and wound itself in his hair. "Gods, yes, Albus . . ." Her words were lost in moans, and she came, and he did not cease his strokes until her final shudder and she had relaxed against him.

When her breathing had quieted, she sighed his name, then said, "I did not kiss you so that you would do that . . . I wasn't looking for that, especially after this morning."

"But it was nice?"

"Mmm, very nice – don't mistake me. Very, very nice. I just don't want you to think . . . well, I had said just a nap." She turned her head to look up at him.

"I know, and I didn't plan it, either, but sometimes the very best things are spontaneous, don't you agree?" He smiled at her; her eyes were still somewhat glazed. "And I do so enjoy playing with you . . . spontaneously."

Minerva smiled. "I am actually surprised that I had any 'play' left in me after this morning."

"A little food, a little sleep, a little unanticipated spontaneity . . . I wouldn't have been disappointed if it had turned out I had exhausted your 'play' this morning, but I was delighted I hadn't." His eyes twinkled naughtily.

"It's you. You have that effect on me."

"It is still a wonder to me; especially after all these years, I would think you would have grown so accustomed to me . . . that it would be hard work."

"For you or for me?" Minerva asked with a laugh. "I love you and you love me, so that is a lot of it, but I think that part of it lies in what you said just now – how you enjoy playing spontaneously. That keeps it from being anything I could just grow accustomed to."

"You know, I was going to keep this a secret, but I don't think I can . . . I have some more of that Polyjuice, and a few more envelopes of the final ingredient that Wilspy gathered for me. I thought that over the weekend, we might make use of it. If you are agreed, of course."

Minerva rolled over and lay next to him, and began tracing patterns on his chest. "I hate knowing that the transition is painful for you, but if you would like to, I did enjoy it very much, and I know you did, as well. But only if you want to. Don't do it just for me."

"All right, then. Next time the mood strikes, we'll do it."

"I do hope you see from what you did just now that one hand is more than sufficient to 'play' with me," Minerva said, her eyes bright. "It's you I react to, you know, Albus, whether you have me bent over the arm of the couch pretending to be a naughty witch with a dirty mouth or you simply are holding me on top of you, telling me that you love me as you touch me with one hand." She caressed his cheek. "But the Polyjuice would be nice, too. And it is good not to have to worry whether I am hurting your hand."

"You are the most extraordinary –" Albus's words were lost in a kiss, and it was some time later before they rose and pulled on their dressing gowns to take supper in the sitting room.

Author's Note: This was the last chapter of An Act of Love, but there is still an epilogue to come, so the story is not complete yet. A sequel, rather different from this story in its style, structure, and focus, is in the works, as well.

By the way, if you are interested in seeing a more "adept" Snape, you might like to check out "Heat," a lemony one-shot featuring our snarky Potions master during a heatwave. He just gets things even hotter.