The Secret Files
Saiyan Princess

Hi! This is going to be really bad -- I'm up late at night with a health
condition. I've decided to write a little fanfic about Minerva and Severus.


"What the hell are you doing here?" a voice snapped.
Professor Snape whipped around, instictively reaching for his wand. When he
saw the intruder in the doorway, he rolled his dark eyes.
"I could ask you the same question Minerva."
"I heard footsteps. Dumbledore's file room is off-limits, you know."
"Yes, yes it is. Why don't you leave?"
As Professor McGonagall entered, Snape's eyes widened in panic.
"Minerva! The door--"
It was too late. The heavy oak door quickly and quietly shut, causing both
teachers to wince, then rush to the door.
"Good going, Minerva!" Snape growled. "I don't assume Albus gave you the
password?"
"We're trapped..."
"I know."
"Don't glare at me, Severus. This isn't my fault. You were the one in the
file room."
"You closed the damn door."
"You opened it."
"You still closed it."
"You're impossible. At least I won't be the one in trouble when Dumbledore
finds us in the morning. What were you doing anyway?"
Snape didn't answer. He continued doing what just what he had been before:
looking through files. He pulled out a folder labeled "Malfoy, Draco."
"Well? What about that prat do you need to find out?"
After looking through the papers, Snape returned them with disgust.
"They're useless," he muttered.
"Start talking, Severus," demanded McGonagall.
The Potions teacher sighed and sunk into a chair.
"This is confidential, Minerva. It doesn't leave this room. But in my class
several days ago, I noticed Mr. Malfoy didn't have his sleeves rolled up
while working with the potions as my students are supposed to, for safety
reasons, you know. This puzzled me, because he nearly always follows rules."
At this point, McGonagall rolled her eyes. Snape continued.
"Anyway, at one point one of his sleeves fell down, revealing his forearm.
There were marks all over it, all these bruises. He had just come back from
home, too, after Christmas break. He pulled his sleeve back into place at
once."
"Have you spoken to Dumbledore?"
"Yes," replied Snape bitterly. "He said we shouldn't jump to conclusions. I
was just checking out his health records. I wanted to see if Poppy had
treated any other bruises of his. His file's clean, except the Buckbeak
episode."
McGonagall was looking at Snape intently now.
"The Malfoys always seemed to pamper him, but I wouldn't put anything past
them," she said.
"Neither would I. Maybe I should talk with Draco. I don't know... If he were
Potter, Dumbledore would be all over him by now, full of concern."
"Don't you dare blame Harry for this, Severus. I'll talk to Dumbledore about
it, generally, of course."
"Thanks."
The two sat in silence for awhile, studying the room. Being January, it was
very cold in the stone room.
"We'll probably be here all night," McGonagall said, rising. "We might as
well be comfortable."
She conjured up a small blue fire and sat next to it.
"Come on," she urged, gesturing for Snape to come near the fire too. "You'll
freeze over there."
Snape reluctantly settled down beside the blue flames.
"My joints are getting old and stiff," complained McGonagall.
"I'm not young anymore either."
"Excuse me?" asked the Transfiguration teacher sharply.
"Well, forty is approaching."
McGonagall glared daggers at him.
"Forty is NOT old!" she yelled.
"It's not young, either."
"Yes, it is! I wish I were in my forties again. You young people don't
appreaciate what you have."
"I'm not a 'young person.' You're treating me like Moody did."
Silence settled in again, until McGonagall asked another question.
"Severus, is it true that the other teachers say I cling to Dumbledore too
much?"
"Are you trying to set me just to get mad at me tonight?" asked Snape,
exasperated. "What are you going to ask next? If your red Gryffindor robes
make you look fat?"
"Do they?"
"Which 'they?' The other teachers or the robes?"
"Either."
"I'm not answering."
"Then the answer to both is yes," cried McGonagall.
She buried her face in her hands.
"Well, the gold robes are more flattering," offered Snape hesitantly.
McGonagall began to cry. It was going to be a long night.




More to come!