Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor the Harry Potter universe. They belong to J.K. Rowling and who owns the rights. This story had not been written for profit, but for fun therefore no copyright infringement is intended.

I am not a native English speaker, I am Italian.

This story is not anything special. Only, I had this idea that was spinning in my head and I decided to write something. I just wanted to write something about Severus, Albus and Minerva.

Enjoy!

A strange evening

Exceeds expectations.

Yes, that test was beyond her expectations... a few mistakes here and there, but overall you could say it deserved an E.

Professor McGonagall adjusted her glasses on her hooked nose. She raised the quill and leaned it down on the top of the parchment. The nib loading ink marked a nice "E" on the paper. See, Potter, that if you study the results arrive?

She sighed heavily as she grasped Potter's test and put it resting on the column of tests already marked. She took off his glasses with a slow movement and ran a hand over her face, rubbing her tired eyes. She slumped back in her chair resting her wrists on the edge of the desk and her eyes, blurred by the soft light of candles, came to rest on the tests still waiting for her vote and her arms fell relentlessly in her lap. No, she would not be able to finish that night. It was impossible. She was marking tests for hours. If she only had not let them accumulate in that way... but between meetings with other teachers, classes, and the inexorable headmaster who invited her to tea, now she found herself with the tests of the last month of the third, fifth and sixth year . And what time was it? The professor brought her eyes away from the parchments and glanced at the clock on the wall, in front of her: eleven and one quarter.

It was not so late after all... perhaps she could even manage it.

Someone knocked at the door.

Minerva looked up, her eyes suddenly wide with surprise. She remained motionless for a moment. Who could knock at her door at eleven and fifteen at night? Albus was not there... thanks to Merlin. He had gone to the Ministry for an urgent meeting with the Minister of Magic, and had not yet returned.

"Come in." She was curious to find out who was the night visitor.

The handle snapped and the light creak of the door accompanied it sliding on the floor in terracotta tiles. Severus Snape's hooked nose peered into the room, along with his piercing black eyes, sunken in his face more pale and tired than usual.

"Oh, Severus." McGonagall said, a little astonished when she discovered the identity of her host. "Come in, come." She invited him.

"I brought you the potion that you asked." Snape said with a slight grin as he shut the door behind him. He advanced towards the mahogany table, on which the teacher was working, and put down on its glossy surface a dark bottle with a label on which was written, in the elegant handwriting of the Potion Master: Jigglegraine Potion.

McGonagall settled back on her chair, watching first the bottle of dark glass and then her colleague, standing across the table, squaring him through the lens of the glasses. "Thank you, Severus. Still, you could give me it tomorrow, I do not need it now." She said hard, while her green eyes came back to rest on the test before her.

"Have I disturbed you?" Snape asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Uh? What?" McGonagall looked at him, too engrossed in correcting the test to realize the cold tone of voice she had used earlier. "No, of course." She said quickly. "It's just that I'm quite busy with these tests and..."

"Want a help?"

Minerva looked at him shocked. No. She got it wrong. Severus had not just offered her his help, right?

"Minerva, do you want some help?" Severus repeated, slightly irritated by the way the professor was watching him. "Stop looking at me as if I was a polka dots dragon." He growled.

Minerva roused in an instant. "Yes, I'm sorry. Just I find it curious." She said, allowing herself to let out an ironic smile, to her young colleague.

Severus gave her a dirty look. "What would be so curious?" He asked.

McGonagall raised her long dark quill - with which she was marking and pointed it at Severus. "The fact that you are so helpful tonight. You had an accident with some sweetener potion?" She said finally, smiling sly. She enjoyed so much teasing him...

Snape did not answer. He seemed too tired to start a debate with his former teacher; he simply smiled grimly and glanced towards the first test on the column of those already marked.

"You gave Potter an E?" He exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes. His test deserved it." McGonagall retorted annoyed, going back to correct the test she had at hand.

"You do not need a potion for headache, but one for common sense." Severus commented sarcastically.

Minerva sighed heavily, then raised her eyes again toward the young man looking at him with dark eyes. "If you came here just to say stupid things, that is the door." She said, nodding to the same door from which Severus had come in.

In reply, Severus grabbed a good half of the tests that lay on the table waiting for the mark, he pulled back the chair opposite the professor with an abrupt gesture and sat down with a slight grunt.

"What do you think are you doing?" Exclaimed the astonished McGonagall.

"I asked you if you wanted a help... you didn't answer me, so I take the initiative." Severus replied harshly, then with a quick flick of the wand made appear on the table a quill and an inkwell filled with red ink.

"No way!" McGonagall exclaimed shrilly. "Those are my tests! It's my duty!" She leaned forward to try to grab the test Severus had already begun to read.

Severus drew back the parchment with a sudden movement, saving it from the clutches of the teacher.

"Stop it, Minerva. You can't finish the job alone. Why don't you want me to help you?" Severus said, looking slightly amused at the angry and upset expression on his former teacher's face.

This seemed to relax for a moment. "But, look at you Severus. You are pale as a sheet, you should get some sleep."

Snape put the test back on the table and began to read the answers as if nothing had happened. "It's my natural color." He said softly after a while, under the eyes of Professor McGonagall who was still staring sharp at him.

"No, it's that you work too much." She said piqued.

"Why don't you continue your work instead of playing the part of the anxious mother that just does not suit you?" Severus said with flat voice without looking at her.

Minerva snorted angrily. She furiously grabbed her quill and began to mark the tests in silence. For some time the only sounds that whispered in the warm living room of Professor McGonagall was the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of the quills on the parchment like the soft chirping of crickets, and, little by little, also the snorts of the professor went waning.

From time to time, Minerva glanced toward her colleague. She watched the tapering hand gracefully handle the quill, his black eyes focused on the often incomprehensible words of the student whose test he was marking. She saw his features twist into a grimace when he met an error and the quill fell inexorable on the parchment. Severus knew very well what to correct and what, instead, to pretend not to see. He knew Minerva's methods of marking since he attended school... even though he had never seen many red marks on his tests. When he became a teacher, Minerva had several times noticed the way he tried to emulate her, by absorbing much of her teaching method and then making them more his, but she had always been his point of reference in his early years as professor. She had always been the person to turn to for advice or help. And Severus had always been a guy who took the job seriously... too much seriously. Minerva could not pretend not to see those sunken cheeks, the dark circles around the eyes that made them look more and more unfathomable and empty tunnels. She could not pretend not to see the pallor of the skin that had always been clear, colorless, but never sickly as then. She could not pretend not to see the weary gesture of his left hand coming up to his face, passing over the sore and tired eyes, accompanied by a sigh.

"Severus, I appreciate your kindness, but you should rest. At least for a while." She said at one point.

She could not pretend not to see. And she could not help worrying for him.

Severus rolled his bloodshot eyes towards her, squeezing them in the change from thick writing on the parchment to the figure of his colleague. He shook his head heavily. "No, Minerva; is not rest what I need." And, said that, his eyes fell again inevitably on the test.

McGonagall looked at him questioningly for a moment. He had no need of rest. Oh no, he was only risking of fainting on the chair at any moment. Why? Why did he relentlessly continued to read those answers and to mark the errors? Why had he come to her that evening bringing a potion that he could easily deliver the next day? The boy was too under stress. Too much under pressure, squeezed by his Janus duty, a duty that Severus was not worth having to suffer and that was slowly consuming him. She saw it. Minerva saw it. She saw Severus lose a bit of himself every day. Each day a piece of his body, his soul and his mind was claimed by light and dark in equal measure. And black and white devoured grey like a sacrificial victim without any rights.

No.

Minerva suddenly jumped up from her chair attracting the attention of Severus on herself, and went around the table. She grabbed the young man's arm totally immune to the protests of the man and led him firmly to the couch.

"Hey, what -?"

She made him sit among the soft cushions and as soon as Severus tried to open his mouth to oppose again, the professor looked at him with her best expression of inflexible teacher caught up with a rebellious student.

"Silence, Severus." She said coldly. "You need to rest. You now get settled there and try to sleep a few hours. Am I clear?"

"But I-" Severus tried to say, but the teacher silenced him again.

"Shut up. I do not accept replies." Minerva retorted harshly. That said, she turned her back on the young man and strode to the table determined to resume her work.

Severus snorted loudly and tried to get up, but-

"Don't you dare move, Severus." McGonagall blew suddenly as she sat again at the table and took up the quill in her hand. "I'm keeping an eye on you." She added with a hint of menace in her voice.

Snape looked angry and resigned at the same time. He had to sleep there? In front of McGonagall? That woman was crazy. He had no intention of giving her victory: if he could not reach the table, at least he could sit there on the couch observing her working... and he knew how much this bothered her. He settled back in the cushions resting on the arm of the couch, half lying on it, and folded his arms across his chest with an annoyed movement.

Minerva marked a big T on the task of Gregory Goyle, with a strange satisfaction staining her face, and put it aside. She took another parchment and began to read the answers. She knew Severus was looking at her with murderous eyes, but she did not care. What mattered was that the boy rest a little, and his way of acting like a child, sometimes, left her cold. On one side she had always been of opinion that Severus had never grown deep inside, it was always remained the alone and longing for affection and acceptance child that he had been. Oh, he hid it well, of course, but not enough for the sharp eyes of the teacher. That was why he had come that night, simply for the intrinsic wish for company. In the long run even a solitary bat needed some warmth. She smiled at that thought and glanced toward the said bat. Her smile widened even more. Severus had fallen asleep in the maroon cushions; his frown was short-lived, now his features were smooth, quiet, he looked much younger without his usual drawn expression. He showed the age he really was. Maybe even less.

Minerva shook her head as the smile made no sign of abandoning her lips. What a strange evening. She sank to the eyes in the tests... Severus who offered to help her finish the job... she who realized that he was exhausted... Severus who had fallen asleep on the couch. Truly a strange evening. There was no other adjective to define it.

She brought her eyes back on the table. Severus had corrected a good deal of tests, and now, thank Merlin, there remained only a dozen still waiting the mark. And it was "just" midnight. She could still hope to sleep a few hours before breakfast in the Great Hall. Severus had been helpful. Absolutely. Once again, Minerva looked up at the sleeping man. It was so weird seeing him there, abandoned to the warmth of the pillows. And watching him, Minerva could not help but wonder why. Why did that boy had to reduce himself like this? Why did he let others abusing him in that way? Because Minerva knew that were others to make Severus what was now. Why could a child have no right to happiness? Why could not a young man live his life without retreat into himself as Severus did? So many questions and no answers.

And Albus. Albus who knew Severus' situation. Albus who had always been the heart Severus' life since he had come looking for help from the headmaster... Albus who became his mentor, guide and friend... Did Albus not realize that boy was slowly crumbling before their eyes?

She shook her head sadly and returned her attention to the last tests. With the thoughts that still wandered, she corrected them one by one, finally putting the last mark on the last parchment. She leaned heavily back and let go a liberating sigh. It was made. She changed the pen for the wand and summoned the pile of tests corrected by Severus making them lay before her. She glanced at the parchment curious... just to see what the young bat had done. The first test was Hermione Granger's and Minerva could not help but smile to see the elegant O being shown on the top. With another quick movement of the wand, the tests flew above those corrected by her and McGonagall could admire pleased the column of tests marked and filed.

Severus moved slightly on the couch, his features stretched for a moment, then the quiet of the sleep wrapped him again.

Minerva got up heavily and approached her young colleague. With a flick of the wand she took off his black jacket and shoes, then, being careful not to wake him, she lifted his legs making him lay on the couch completely. Minerva summoned a blanket, laying on a chair at the corner of the room, and placed it on Severus' shoulders and covered him with a maternal gesture. She tenderly smiled when she saw the young man tighten the edge of the blanket in the hand to bring it closer to his face. It was strange to see Severus so vulnerable, even when sleeping. It was strange to see him so calm. Perhaps that was why Minerva felt justified to gently caress his cheek. After all, it was a strange evening, wasn't it? And the strict, cold Professor McGonagall could not remain indifferent to the way Severus clutched in the blanket, as if seeking warmth and at the same time hiding in it.

She sat down on the edge of the couch, and began to slowly stroke Severus' black hair. Strange. Just that morning she and Severus had almost been at each other's throat for ten points taken away from Slytherin and now she was there watching him sleeping as if he were her son. And, of course, she had seen him grow. Since he was a skinny, isolated and scared child to now that he was a closed, brave, and sarcastic young man, perhaps Minerva thought of him as he was her own child. Like Albus did, however. But the relationship between Albus and Severus was certainly much more deep and indissoluble than the one that the acid Potions Master had with her. It was a relationship of affection and deep, blind respect and trust, and it was also an unhealthy relationship. Because Severus would do anything if only Albus would have asked, also destroy his soul. And Albus knew he could ask Severus anything. For Severus, Albus Dumbledore had been the salvation and the damnation at the same time.

"Albus ..."

Minerva gasped. Her bright eyes focused on Snape's face, pushing away the mist of thoughts. McGonagall did not know whether to be softened by the fact that Severus called Dumbledore in a dream or to be angry. She saw the young man cling even more to the blanket, as if he was trying to hide from some strange panther of his dreams, his features suddenly drawn. The caresses of Minerva grew louder.

"Shhh, Severus. Albus is not here. It's me now." She whispered. She knew it would not have helped much. Severus felt safe only with Dumbledore. Albus. Only Albus.

"Ah, my poor boy." The professor sighed. "What have you done wrong to deserve the affection of Albus Dumbledore?"

Minerva saw Severus' eyes shoot right and left under the closed eyelids, she felt his breathing become less regular, but could do nothing to chase away those visions. Only Albus had that power.

A knock at the door.

Minerva's eyes snapped toward it. Reluctantly, she rose gently from the couch and walked silently to the door. She turned the handle and peered beyond the wood- in what was her office now invaded by the dark- and two blue eyes sparkled in front of her, shining beyond the half-moon glasses.

The professor opened the door.

"Albus," she whispered, "what are you doing here?"

Dumbledore walked into the living room, forcing his colleague to move away.

"I was looking for Severus. I have important news from the Ministry, but-"

"Shhh!" McGonagall immediately rebuked him forcing him to lower the tone of voice. Seeing the quizzical look that Dumbledore addressed her, she nodded toward the couch.

Albus followed the movement of the professor and his eyes caught the sleeping figure of Severus. A smile rose to his lips tickling his white mustache.

"He came here to bring me a potion. And then he offered to help me with tests. And then I made him lie down on the couch." McGonagall told him softly, looking up at the headmaster.

"Indeed?" He only said. Then, he advanced toward the sleeping figure, and knelt in front of Severus observing the features drawn by the images that filled his mind. He raised a wrinkled hand and laid it gently on the forehead of the young man and the smile on his face widened softly. Severus seemed to relax under that touch, he moved his head pushing it against Albus' hand in a childish movement.

"He has a little fever." Albus whispered to McGonagall without looking at her.

"It's stress. Albus, you do nothing bit press him with your higher good. With his duty. Do something. For him." Said Professor McGonagall bending her back on the headmaster and nodding toward Severus.

Albus seemed not have heard her. He rose with difficulty from the ground, then grabbed gently, but firmly Severus' shoulders and held him up. Snape muttered something, but did not wake up.
Dumbledore sat on the couch and made Severus lean against his chest, holding him tightly in his arms. He knew. He knew what Severus had to face every day and every night. He knew that the fault was mainly his own, but could not ask him to stop. He could not ask him to stop going to Voldemort, to spy... to lie for him. Because Severus would not have accept it. That was his only request: that Severus would have never comply with.

And Minerva, seeing as Severus pressed his head against the soft, white beard of the headmaster, now that he finally felt safe... now that at last the one who could protect him from his nightmares had come... Minerva could not help but smile. Despite life had given so little to Severus... despite his duty was crushing him... despite the love of Albus Dumbledore was damnation for any mortal being, the love of Albus was the only safe house for Severus. A good and bad thing. Despite the requests of Albus hurt Severus deep within his soul, the presence of the headmaster was also the only medicine.

Professor McGonagall smiled watching Dumbledore slowly cradled Severus in his arms, chasing away the nightmares. That was really a strange evening.

Exceeds expectations, Albus.

Small note: the panther I mentioned referring to Severus' nightmares, actually refers to Dante's panther. In Italian, though, it is not a panther, but a lonza, which is a spotted cat. Well, no one knows exactly what Dante meant with lonza, however, probably a leopard or a lynx.

And so looking for how the lonza had been translated in English I made the mistake of read the first Canto of the Inferno in English. How sad the Divine Comedy is in English! It loses all its grandeur, poetry and rhymes. Sadness... :'(

Perhaps a review could chase away this melancholy. What do you think? XD