Severus paused at the foot of the central staircase trying to decide whether he had the energy to climb the stairs to the staff room or just to tumble down the stairs to his own rooms. It had been a long day followed by a longer night. He certainly hadn't missed these extra-curricular activities in the years when the Dark Lord had played a minimal role in his life. Gathering his strength though, he began to make his way up to the second floor, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep himself until he had checked on his colleague.

Despite the fact they were now a fortnight into the summer holidays there was plenty of work to be done by the remaining professors. He and Minerva had been working on the schools defences, something that the deputy headmistress was usually more than capable of doing on her own. After the events at the end of the last term however, Albus had been understandably reluctant to let Minerva over tax herself in her usual way.

They had stopped working in time for dinner and had retired to the staff room for coffee and comfortable silence (at least until the Headmaster returned from the Ministry). They had read for perhaps an hour before his study of The International Potions Journal of the Official Society of Accredited Brewers, was interrupted by the familiar burn of his mark. Closing the journal he looked up and was mildly amused to see that Minerva had curled up in her favourite wingback chair the latest European Transfiguration journal open on her knee. But what really struck him was that her eyes had slipped shut and her head rested on the wing of the chair.

It had been a long few months for all of them. Umbridge's stay had impacted on them all, some more than others. He knew for a fact that Minerva had been driven slowly insane by the other woman's presence in the castle even before she had begun to corrupt power from those who actually knew what they were doing. The attack had really only been the last straw. The fact that the Scot had let her temper get the best of her in the first place was a significant indicator of how far she had been pushed, how stressed she was and how little sleep she had been getting.

Severus didn't think that he would ever forget what had happened that night. He had watched from the staff room window where they had been sharing a large whiskey when she had taken off at a run. He had watched from the window, knowing that they couldn't afford for him to get involved. Fire calling Poppy had been his first course of action once she had been hurt followed by Filius; Pomona had already been on her way. That had been one of the longest nights he had known.

She had come back though. Not quite as fit and healthy as she would have everyone believe but the fact that she was here at all made all the difference. Severus knew that she hadn't been sleeping well; they had met too often in the middle of the night for that not to be the case. This being the case he had not been inclined to wake her when she had fallen asleep in front of the fire. He also knew however that should she stay there all night she would be terribly uncomfortable in the morning. And so, four hours after he left, he was now making his way back up to the staff-room.

The only light in the room now that the sun had set came from the fire burning low in the grate, and it took a moment for Severus' eyes to become accustomed enough to this light to be able to see anything clearly. When he did it brought a rare wry smile to his face.

Minerva was still fast asleep but the chair he had been resting in had been transfigured into a lavish bed. Nestled under the cover she looked much younger than she had of late, as if her cares had been lifted from her shoulders. Watching over her was Albus Dumbledore. His back was to the door and Severus but the Potions Master suspected from the way the Headmaster was sitting, that Minerva was not the only one asleep in the staff room.

He rounded the chair to get a better look and he found his suspicions to be correct. Albus had obviously borrowed his Deputy's journal but he too had fallen asleep over its pages, reading glasses slipping down his nose. Severus smirked, as he thought of what this might say about the interest level of transfiguration in general. The subject had never been one of his favourites and he'd never really had any aptitude for it.

That said, a very good teacher had managed to help him grasp the basics while he was at school and so he managed to transform the Headmaster's own chair into a bed (if a much simpler one) without waking the other man. This done, he poured himself another cup of perpetually hot coffee and returned to his own fireside seat. He took a moment just to sit. To enjoy the simple luxury of the warmth and smell of the coffee before opening his own journal…

When Severus woke it was to the soft morning light streaming through large windows. This and the fact that he seemed to be cocooned in a tartan duvet were the first real signifiers that this was not normal waking up. However, he was feeling safe and secure and thus it was not nearly as brutally quick as many he had had over the years. He was lying down. He was lying down in a bed that wasn't his own in a room that definitely wasn't in the dungeons. After a moment he managed to piece together the events of the night before… coming back to the school, finding Minerva and Albus both asleep…

"Good morning Sleepyhead."

There was definite amusement in the soft Scottish lilt.

"Humph…" was all he said as he sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Breakfast?" she asked. "Albus is back at the Ministry and we should probably get going."

"Toast." was all he said, mere seconds before the plate appeared in front of his face.

As he ate, Severus realised that it was moments like this that made it all worthwhile - the almost normal moments amongst chaos. Strange as it might seem, these were the moments that Severus Snape lived for.