Title: This is How We Get Along
Pairing: Severus Snape/Minerva McGonagall
Rating: K+
Summary: Albus Dumbledore has had enough of Severus and Minerva's constant bickering. His solution surprises them all...
A/N: This is just a piece of fun writing, I had an idea and decided to run with it! Thanks to TiliaOfAnkh for ideas and reading the drafts :)
All rights belong to JKRowling.
Deputy headmistress of that illustrious educational establishment, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration authority and academic, and noted animagus master (felis catus) took a deep breath.
"Severus Snape, what is the meaning of this?!" A group of passing second years turned around in surprise, blanched when they saw Professor McGonagall's face, and hurried into the Great Hall.
The good lady turned from the offending notice board in front of her that had borne the displeasing news, and bristled visibly at a tall black clad man standing with a prominent smirk behind her, the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin house Severus Snape.
"I have no idea what you're talking about Minerva," the man said smoothly. "Perhaps you ought to think about your blood pressure at your age and calm down," with a patronising sneer he swept past the enraged deputy and into the great hall.
"How dare you!" Eyes flashing behind her signature square spectacles, Professor McGonagall looked as if she was ready to grow spikes as she strode swiftly after the disappearing Potions Master. That had been a very calculated remark of Severus's and Minerva knew it.
Opening the door to the great hall, an onlooker would never guess as to the annoyance simmering beneath the surface of the deputy headmistress. Her face wore its normal stern look, her dark hair was in its usual tidy bun, her hat neat and tidy, her dark green robes as impeccable as ever. Her stride was confident and her heeled boots tapped a brisk tattoo as she made her way to the high table. Only the flash of her emerald eyes as she seated herself between Professor Snape and the Headmaster gave anything away. The dark glitter in Professor Snape's eyes as he gave a curt nod told her that he knew precisely how angry she was.
"Ah... and here's dear Minerva," Dumbledore beamed as she sat down.
"Albus " Minerva acknowledged, reaching for the teapot.
"Allow me," Dumbledore reached across and filled Minerva's teacup; a wave of his hand and the milk jug scooted from under the outstretched hand of a surprised Professor Flirwick, causing him to squeak in consternation as it headed determinedly down the table towards the deputy headmistress.
"Really Albus," Minerva admonished.
"I do love to see their faces," Dumbledore chortled.
Minerva shook her head as she tapped the jug to send it back down to Professor Flitwick, who was wondering whether or not to raid the Ravenclaw table for some milk.
"Speaking of seeing their faces, it's a lovely day for quidditch Severus," Dumbledore said to the dark headed younger man.
Professor Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement, but did not respond.
"And did I see correctly, Severus," Dumbledore continued, blithely buttering his toast and licking his fingers, "that Sytherin appear to have commandeered most of the Quidditch training sessions for the rest of this term?"
"Yes you did, Headmaster. We have several new players, they need the training time," Professor Snape smoothly replied, just barely concealing his sneer at Professor McGonagall. "As Gryffindor have been so notable of late I did not see any harm in increasing Slytherins' training time."
"You never even asked Gryffindor!" Professor McGonagall finally burst out. "This kind of underhanded behaviour is typical of a Slytherin, because you can't face the fact the snakes are losing again and so you decide to steal training time!"
A loaded silence descended upon the dining table, with many of the assembled Professor's glancing uneasily at each other and correctly reading the warning signs. They all read 'stormy weather ahead - due Snape and McGonagall.'
Professor's Snape and McGonagall appeared to be oblivious, however, as the two most severe and stern teachers in the school squared off for a spat, the type of spat more often seen in the more immature first and second year students.
"Anything for your precious Gryffindor's isn't it Minerva," Snape was drawling in a tone of voice he knew from experience would really push McGonagall's buttons. "Somehow things are wrong when Slytherin do it, but if it's for Gryffindor then breaking the rules is ok! Need I remind you that you well and truly tore up the rule book when Potter made it on to the team barely in his very first week?"
"It was exceptional talent!"
"Of course," Snape sneered. "Then that justifies appointing someone a year before time."
"You allowed Malfoy to buy a whole new set of brooms!"
Snape arched an eyebrow. "Someone brought Potter a Firebolt. Stop trying to get out of it Minerva, you broke every rule going with Potter, you set the precedent..."
"Gryffindor hadn't won for years, we were bottom of all the houses..." McGonagall defended herself.
"You sound positively Slytherin," Snape snorted.
Suddenly a solemn voice broke in as Minerva swelled, ready to respond.
"If I could take a moment of your time Severus, Minerva?"
Both Professor's turned to their headmaster in surprise, both having temporarily forgotten about their unintended audience. Minerva fiddled briefly with her teacup before pulling herself together.
"I must get going," she murmured and put her napkin on the table ready to rise to her feet.
"Oh Minerva, I'm afraid I must crave another moment of your valuable time. There is a point in a most fascinating transfiguration article, Saudi Arabian authors, it's marvellous the work they're doing, simply marvellous, they've opened up a whole new area of medical research, I just need your opinion on one aspect if you wouldn't mind, you too Severus, it overlaps quite heavily in parts with potions. Quite splendid work."
"Certainly Dumbledore," Minerva said sitting back down and throwing a cold glare in Snape's direction.
Professor Snape scowled at his plate. He knew precisely why Dumbledore had sabotaged Minerva's getaway. They were both about to be held to account for their childish display and Dumbledore was quite evidently happy to draw it out. The potions master glanced at the headmaster who was wearing a benign smile and humming a jolly little tune under his breath as he reached for a fresh slice of toast. Severus stifled a sigh and picked up the teapot. Perhaps he could plead an urgent potion that needed his attention? He immediately discarded the idea and, feeling his mood sour even more with every passing second, took a certain malicious enjoyment from the fact that, judging by Minerva's face, she seemed to be harbouring thoughts very similar to his own.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape sat down in front of the Headmaster's desk. Fawkes cooed happily from his perch, his plumage magnificent. He cocked his head and clicked his beak a couple of times in a friendly manner.
"Where was I...oh yes, ah here we are," Dumbledore moved a few pages of parchment, before stopping and picking up another sheet in delight. "Ah there it is...I'd been looking for this...well, well, well fancy it being there..." his voice trailed off into happy mumbling as he, with every appearance of care, deposited the parchment into a desk drawer.
"Oh my sincere apologies, Severus, Minerva, forgive an old man's foibles." He cast a warm gaze upon them both, the twinkle in his eyes becoming just slightly more apparent as he observed the identical looks of disbelief upon the faces of his two professor's.
"Yes, well, far be it for us to comment Headmaster, but I certainly have lessons to attend to." Snape's carefully neutral voice cut into the silence, conveying with clarity his acute desire for the swift culmination of this meeting, with someone whom he was beginning to suspect might just be bonkers.
"My dear boy, of course, of course. No more than simply a couple of moments Severus."
Dumbledore lifted a flat pile of pink cloth that had been sitting next to his elbow.
"Now," he said with a smile. "Can either of you tell me what this is?" He unfolded the cloth as he spoke, the material revealing itself to be stitched at the sides with sleeves.
Minerva looked at the old man as if he had grown a second head whilst Professor Snape audibly snorted his disbelief.
"What is this about Albus? Because I really am very busy and, frankly, surely this can wait."
She stood up as she spoke, the last of her already frayed patience beginning to snap. What she really wanted to do was transform into her animagus form and shred an old tapestry she had spotted in one of the disused classrooms to let off steam.
"Minerva, of course, I quite understand." Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully for a moment. "Except I think you really do need to hear this my dear."
"Hear what? So far you've just held up what looks to be an item of muggle clothing, Merlin knows why." Professor McGonagall said coldly, crossing her arms as she sat stiffly back down.
Dumbledore smiled patiently at his deputy. "Indulge me," he said chuckling as he held up the garment again. He noticed that both teachers were attempting to avoid looking at it, the material evidence as it were, of Dumbledore's lunacy. The thought made the old headmaster chuckle with mirth yet again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Severus's mouth tighten and the younger man rolled his eyes. Severus never could hide his disdain, he tried to make people believe he didn't care but Dumbledore knew that wasn't true. If he didn't care he wouldn't be sitting here listening to an old man. Speaking of care, that was one fiery relationship, working or not, that him and Minerva were stoking between them. For such a benevolent and revered man, he had a downright wicked smile at times.
"Severus my boy, what is this?" The headmaster waved the offending material at the black-clad potions master. Severus muttered under his breath as he cast a glare every bit as black as his clothing at the genial figure in front of him.
"What was that?" Dumbledore cupped his ear theatrically. "Didn't hear you Severus."
The potions master growled but raised his voice. "A t-shirt, headmaster. An item of muggle clothing to be worn on the top half of the body." Professor Snape's laconic drawl made Dumbledore smile.
"Quite right Severus. Minerva dear, have you seen one before?" Dumbledore queried the deputy headmistress, mindful of her pure blood and very privileged upbringing.
"Certainly Albus, some of the students that remain during the holidays wear them." Minerva responded in clipped tones. "Really Albus, what is this - "
"An insufferable waste of time," Severus ground out, baring his teeth as he interrupted Minerva. For once she was in total agreement with the Slytherin, Albus and his eccentricities were getting worse.
Dumbledore continued unabated. He stood up to pet Fawkes as he spoke, the phoenix's soft coos providing melodic undertones.
"Let me tell you a story..." He turned around with surprising speed, gentle blue eyes staring down icy green and flashing black.
"A couple of days ago I was fortunate enough to meet an old and very dear friend of mine, a squib actually, who lives in muggle London." Dumbledore paused, hearing the melodramatic sigh coming from Severus's slouched form on his chair.
"As I had business that took me to London, I arranged to meet Gerald at a favourite haunt of his." Dumbledore continued unperturbed. "There's nothing quite like meeting old friends again," he beamed at the two professor's in front of him.
"No," Severus agreed sourly. "Nothing quite like it." Minerva glanced quickly at her colleague, knowing full well that Severus had more reasons than most to mistrust old friends.
Dumbledore, however, continued happily with this monologue, apparently oblivious to the rising impatience and frustration of his deputy and potions master.
"He mentioned in passing something that muggle parents do when their children misbehave."
An icy feeling began to coil in Professor McGonagall's gut as she listened to the Headmaster's amiable tones, a feeling mirrored on Professor Snape's face as his black eyes never left Dumbledore's gentle face.
Dumbledore was chuckling to himself. "Well, not all, but it appears to be something of a, what did he call it, ah yes, a craze." The Headmaster looked momentarily pleased with himself at recalling the phrase successfully. He stood up behind his desk, the genial, bumbling old man replaced by a tall figure of absolute authority, his beard no longer a sign of age but of accumulated experience and wisdom.
"I'm afraid both of you leave me absolutely no choice. Experience is a harsh taskmaster, but you must learn." Dumbledore waved his wand in a subtle gesture and the pink t-shirt glided towards the stunned professor's, getting bigger as it approached.
"Gerald called it "our get-along shirt." I think that describes it perfectly." Dumbledore smiled benevolently at Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall's looks of absolute fury.
The pair of them were encased inside one very large, very pink, and very restrictive t-shirt. Both of their heads poked out of the neck, but there was only room for one arm per sleeve, and the confines of the t-shirt necessitated that they stand side-by-side, pressed together. As they looked down at the t-shirt imprisoning them in unadulterated horror, blue glittering letters began to form on the front of the t-shirt, reading "Severus and Minerva's Get-Along Shirt."
"The shirt is protected so you cannot remove it until certain conditions are met," Dumbledore continued.
"What conditions?" Minerva growled.
"That would be telling. You must work them out."
With another smile, Dunbledore rose to his feet, signalling that the meeting was at an end.
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