AN: Just a little idea I had one night. I don't think there will be more to this, unless people request it. (: Thanks for all the support. I love reading reviews. Again, I'm not a professional. I'm 13. xD

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I'm not that brilliant. I make no money off of this, and it's all for pure entertainment.

"Severus?" the headmaster chimed, giving two gentle, but loud knocks on the door to his potion master's private chambers.

It was unusually chilly tonight in the dungeons, the air dense with a dry, bitter draft. Albus Dumbledore rested the knuckles of his wrinkled fingers on the heavy wooden door. He was nearly positive Severus wouldn't acknowledge him anytime soon, so he briefly plotted his next step.

"Severus?… I'm going to come in," he announced, waving his wand over the door a few times before finally pushing it open.

On the armchair in the sitting room, Severus Snape was sprawled, his hand limply holding a glass of firewhiskey.

"Severus, my boy?" Albus carefully approached him, extending his hand toward the slouched, disheveled form.

Snape suddenly came to life and jerked away from the headmaster, rubbing his temples fervently. He seemed awfully distressed, with his bloodshot eyes and lanky hair curtaining his pallor skin from both sides of his face.

"Oh, Severus," Dumbledore sighed kneeling down next to the professor and placing a genial hand on his knee.

"Don't touch me," Snape hissed, making an attempt to sit up, and failing. His breath hitched - an unmistakable sob, though there were never any tears.

"Would you like to tell me what precisely happened in the Shrieking Shack over a cup of tea?" Albus offered.

Snape's face contorted with rage, "YOU LET HIM GO! YOU HELPED POTTER!"

Dumbledore did not reply, his eyes twinkling mildly.

"Always on Potter's side… After all he's done! You may recall that Black nearly killed me!"

Albus remained kneeling, level with the professor, his voice soft and mellow, "It is time to go on, my boy. You and I both now know that Sirius Black never murdered anyone, and you know that you would never allow an innocent man to be killed. You are a prudent man, Severus. Do not allow childhood grudges to stand in the way of that. You have saved many. Why should Sirius Black have been any different?"

Snape did not have an answer, nor did he wish to come up with one at the moment. He was much too exhausted. The headmaster was right, as usual. He would have done all in his power to save a fellow human being, no matter how much hatred lived between them.

"Together, we must prepare for what I expect is to come. The war is not over, my friend."

Snape scoffed, "I'd hardly consider us friends."

Albus however, seemed rather amused by this remark. "Really? What do you suppose inclines you to believe this?"

"A man like you would never befriend a man like me," Severus replied in barely anything more than a soft whisper.

"But, my boy, I already have."

The wise blue eyes connected with the obstinate black ones for a split second, before Snape gave a twitch of the head in the opposite direction. The younger man of the two did not have a chance to reply, because at that moment, Poppy chose to burst into the room through the fireplace.

Ah yes, Madam Pomfrey was allowed to enter Severus' quarters at her leisure if she suspected something was out of order with one of the staff members.

"Severus Tobias Snape, might I ask what you thought you were playing at when you rushed out of the infirmary like a deranged bowtruckle without ever consulting me about your head injury?"

Snape's expression turned sour again, his lip curling, "I assure you I'm fine, Poppy. I've already taken a potion for any possible concussion."

Albus of course, took this opportunity to join the conversation as well, "Nevertheless, it needs to be dressed properly to prevent infection, and for that we will need Poppy's expertise", he insisted, examining the angry wound on Snape's forehead, dried blood clotting the new.

Severus was about to snap at Albus, but was distracted by Madam Pomfrey grasping his left wrist to check his pulse.

"What in Merlin's name have you been doing that your heart rate is sky high?" Poppy admonished, "Not to mention you've been skipping meals again."

Albus watched with a cordial smile on his face, as Snape glared at the pair of people invading his chambers. If looks could kill, Snape would be at peace once again.

"Oh, stop your sulking, Severus," Poppy sighed, removing some surgical gauze from her satchel, "This won't be pleasant." She poured some potion over the ivory, thread-like square before pressing it firmly on her patient's forehead where the wound was present. The man groaned through clenched teeth, the stinging sensation burning against his injury.

"There, there," the medi-witch soothed, placing a hand on the shuddering shoulder. The fit soon passed, and Snape sat upright, slightly light-headed and breathless.

"Are you through, yet?" he snarled, pulling himself away from Poppy's reach.

"I'll be through, when I say we are through, Severus," she replied sternly, running a diagnostic spell over the man.

After what seemed like an eternity to Snape, Madam Pomfrey gathered her belongings and left to tend to her other patients in the hospital wing. She had, of course, confined him to a full day of bed rest (cancelling his classes for the next morning) until his persistent headache and symptoms from his injury had disappeared.

He wanted to put up a fight, and a good one at that, but his body had lacked all the energy to do so. He had realized a bit too late that Poppy had slipped a Calming Draught into the painkiller potion she had given him.

Now, he felt as though he were floating on air, and had absolutely no intention of getting up from his armchair. Albus, however, was already helping him up and maneuvering him into the bedroom. When Snape had collapsed onto his bed, the headmaster dimmed the candles and prepared to leave. Perhaps he'd come visit tomorrow and offer that tea again.

Overall, he knew Severus would be fine. He always pulled through, and even though he had experienced a "severe disappointment" this evening, a nice day of nothing but rest would do the lad some good.

And if his potion's master would need someone to talk to, Albus would be happily waiting in his office with a plate of biscuits and bowl of lemon drops.

Yes, all would be swell.