AN: REPOST: Since I've had a few reactions that said my story lacked logic, I thought it was better to start anew and rewrite parts of this chapter. If I had continued along the same line, I would've got stuck somewhere, so this seemed to me to be the best solution. Thanks for alerting me! Writing is and remains a process of error and trial :-).

Also, sorry for the delay, but I've got exams.

Chapter 1

"Ah, come on, Severus! I'm sure a little vacation will do you good, because from what I can see, you look incredibly overworked. You know you should take care of yourself every now and then," said Robert cheerfully.

Severus stopped dead and looked down to the moving heap of wood in the fireplace with a mixture of exhaustion and annoyance. "If you would get that smirk of your face, I would maybe even consider it," he said curtly.

"I know you want tooo" Robert coaxed. "I can clearly see it: the way you're moving around, the way you're looking at me, the usual scowl that hides your enthusiasm..."

"Do not think that you still know me, Mr Malista," said Severus sternly. "Many years have gone by since our years at Hogwarts and a lot has changed since then. I have changed..."

Robert pouted slightly. "Please, just think about it Sev. Two weeks, out here in the Canadian woods, just the two of us, having small duels, playing Wizard-chess, gathering herbs, brewing potions, talking over a beer... you know, just like old times."

Severus sighed and began pacing up and down his office again. "Your offer is very inopportune at the moment. It is nearly impossible for me to leave..."

"It is always inopportune when it comes to you, Sev. How many times did you take me up on my offers, like, in your lifetime? I bet you can still count them on one hand."

"It is not my fault, neither is it a lie. Minerva is still ill, which means that she still counts on me to run the school during her recovery. And in the meantime I am still teaching my Potions classes as well. So that is why your proposal is untimely, Mr Malista."

"But for how long will she stay ill? You've used that excuse like a hundred times already. Surely, she wouldn't mind it if you sought out an interim? That Potter boy for example? He's doing pretty well in the Ministry as an Auror I've heard?"

"Mr Malista... I don't want to have this discussion again... Face it, I can simply not accept your offer, I have responsibilities and I mean to see them through until Minerva can take over once more... Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to attend dinner in the Great Hall. This conversation is over," said Snape, turning abruptly away from the hearth, his black robes swirling elegantly about his legs.

"At least chew it over! Send me an e-mail or something, I'll be waiting!" Robert called after him, before putting the fire out.

Snape shook his head, whilst making his way downstairs. An e-mail... his friend was really getting too caught up in Muggle affaires. When he reached the big staircase, he was startled by the noises of screaming students. Apparently, it was one of those days when the stairs constantly turned and deliberately caused trouble for everyone. On his left, Snape saw a first-year student who was trapped on the moving stairs and two storeys below him he saw three boys pulling a girl up on the platform. Disgruntled, Severus pulled his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the masses of stone and mumbled Petrificus Totalus. Immediately the chaos ceased and a wave of relief went through the crowd.

"All to the Great Hall. Now!" he bellowed, as most of the students were looking at him with a curious expression on his face. "The first student that I will happen to catch walking around the corridors will spend a night in Mr Filch's cupboard."

This was enough of an incentive for the students to hurry along and soon the corridors were empty and silent again except for the resonance of Snape's own footsteps. Before heading down, he decided to pay Professor McGonagall a visit in the Hospital Wing. It had been a week since he'd last visited her, and he wondered if her condition had altered so far, if even a little bit.

He knocked on the heavy doors of the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey's muffled voice called him in. "Just a minute, wait there," her voice sounded from behind one of the linen screens. "Now, there, it'll hurt a bit, but in the morning you're arm should be good as new."

Snape came a little bit closer and recognised the boy who'd fallen of his broom during practice earlier. His arm had almost split in two parts. When the boy noticed him, he edged away a little. Snape still gave younger students the chills sometimes.

"Oh, professor Snape, what can I do for you? Shouldn't you be downstairs to have dinner?" said Madam Pomfrey in surprise as she noticed him towering over her shoulder.

"I just wanted to pay Minerva is a visit. How is she doing? She still lies in the same bed, I assume?"

"Yes, the farthest bed on the right. Well, her condition vacillates. Every now and then, she says she feels well enough to get out of bed... but she never does, though," Madam Pomfrey whispered.

"Right, so I may conclude that chances are she won't return anytime soon?" Snape asked, a little disappointed.

Secretly, he'd hoped that Madam Pomfrey would have better news, that Minerva would almost be up and about again, that he would no longer need to be Headmaster. Because frankly, he was a little weary due to the continuous strain of work, and he had found he lacked time to do the things that really mattered to him. Also, being Headmaster reminded him too much of that awful year 19 years prior.

"I can't predict the future... but I doubt it. As I said, she is very weak, even on her better days," said Madam Pomfrey, whilst making her way over to Minerva's bed.

Professor McGonagall sat upright, propped up against a few pillows. Her hair was braided very neatly and lay draped over her right shoulder. When Snape and Madam Pomfrey appeared, she looked up, her eyes a little bit unfocused. Snape quietly sat down in the chair next to the night stand.

Just when he was about to say something, Madam Pomfrey interrupted him: "Professor, I don't think it is a good idea to have long conversations now... Minerva is not well," said she softly.

"I promise, I won't make it longer than necessary," Snape assured her.

Madam Pomfrey looked uncertain and faintly complained, but eventually she nodded. He was the Headmaster after all. As she turned around her robes made a soft swishing sound, and Snape waited patiently until he heard her close the door of her cabinet.

"Minerva?"

Upon hearing her name, Professor McGonagall slowly turned her head towards him. Her lips twitched a little.

"Severus..." said she hoarsely, "it is a pleasure to see you. I was wondering today, does he still know that I'm alive?"

After saying this, she wheezed and reached for a handkerchief. She coughed long and inhaled sharply in between. The handkerchief showed small specks of red when she put it back, and Snape frowned in concern.

"How do you do, Minerva?" he asked, whilst drawing a small phial from his pocket.

"I've... I've been better, yes, yes I could say I've been better. It hurts sometimes. In the area of my lungs... or no, my stomach... it alternates. Recovery takes longer when you're my age," said she with a rasping chuckle.

Snape pressed his lips together and looked grimly at the paleness of her skin. In the dim light that fell through the windows, it was almost translucent. Like a flimsy roll of parchment that had was passed on too many times.

"I can see what you're thinking, Severus. Back in the days, you were better at hiding your emotions... but I don't mean you should... you're much more likeable now," Minerva smiled. "And yes I probably look ill... but... have you looked at... yourself yet? It's... as if Hades.. himself... is... sitting... beside... my bed," her voice faded away and she doubled up as another outburst of coughs obtruded.

Snape sprang up and handed her the moist handkerchief. Quickly, he conjured a glass of water and slipped the content of the phial in it. "Here, Minerva, drink this. It should ease the pain, and put a momentary stop to the coughing."

Minerva inhaled with effort, but managed to push him away after accepting the glass. "What I wanted to say, Severus... you should take care of yourself. Let someone else fill in for you, before you snap and end up in that bed over th-"

"Minerva, I can handle it... You shouldn't worry about me, worry about recuperating... I brought you a little something to read, by the way," Snape interjected.

"Severus..." Minerva sighed. "The summer holidays are coming up... at least take a leave then. Go see people... you've been too secluded, worked too hard an neglected your own interests... And I know that it's weighing on you, whether you want to admit it or not."

"Hmpf... I will think about it. Merlin's beard, is that the time? I should be heading to the Great Hall for supper. And you should rest," said Snape quickly. "I will leave the books here, they will intrigue you I'm sure. Oh... and you'll be happy to know that Gryffindor beat Slytherin today in Quidditch."

Minerva gave him a watery smile and shook her head, before lying down and closing her eyes. Snape waited until her breath evened and turned around when her breast rose in regular intervals.

Before he could exit, Madam Pomfrey rushed to his side and asked: "Severus, just a question, I'm running out of Minerva's usual potions and mixtures, could you brew some more, please? And while you're at it, I'm also short of Antidotes to Uncommon Poisons, Drowsiness Draughts, and Pepperup Potion."

Snape grumbled something incomprehensible and went out of the door. He didn't really feel like joining everyone in the Great Hall anymore, but he knew it was his duty as Headmaster to at least show his face for a little while. So that's what he did. Fortunately, dinner was almost over when he appeared and he only had to sit through dessert. On his left, Hagrid was ladling huge portions of porridge on his plate and the scent of vanilla penetrated his nose. On his right, Sybille was messing with a slice of cherry jelly pie. One way or another, the pie just wouldn't find its way to her mouth.

"How's Minerva, Sev'rus? I 'aven't been around lately. I should bring 'er some of my newest flow'rs. I develop'd bright orange ones that resemble flat pumpkins, isn't that great?" Hagrid chewed with his mouth open.

"I've just visited her. I believe her health is improving," said Snape tersely.

"Arh, that's nice to hear! I always thought: she's er strong woman, she is. Merlin knows she'll outlast us all," said Hagrid optimistically. "I think the students miss 'er too, you know, she's just so exquisite, no witch can replace 'er if you ask me. Although I can't say I've ever been thought by her, with me being thrown out when I was just a kiddo, but -"

Snape gave him a brief smile, before saying: "If you'll just excuse me...". He rose from his chair, his back straight as a plank, and he strode to the lectern to announce that dinner was over.

Snape went through a door in the back, which instantly led him to the dungeons. The last thing he wanted was to get trapped in a mass of jostling teenagers at this point. Back in his office he slumped against the door. He felt slightly dizzy, and too tense to go to sleep yet. He thought he needed to focus on something to clear his mind and he sat down to correct some OWL essays that he should've returned three weeks ago. Four lines he read before his tired eyes watered en the letters swam around on the page.

He sighed and decided to start with the potions that Madam Pomfrey had requested. They would have to simmer for twelve hours, so he thought he could hand them to her the next day if he set them up now. "First, the Pepperup Potion..." he mumbled out loud, as he opened the door to his personal storage.

"Mandrake Root, Fire Seeds... Fire Seeds? I thought I still had a sufficient amount of them... Where did I put...? Ok, then I'll start with the Drowsiness Draughts instead... Valerian sprigs... hm that needs a refill... lavender... Merlin's beard, forgot to place that order for one kilogram of Standard Ingredient." Snape looked at the empty jar in annoyance.

Involuntarily his thoughts drifted away to the dense forests of Canada. Nothing but the soft breeze rustling through the thick foliage would ruffle him there. Mild temperatures, fresh air, a crackling campfire at night? He could enjoy peace and quiet. For once. Maybe Minerva was right in saying that he'd been to hard on himself? Perhaps he should avail himself of the summer holidays? And not just for work?

Mulling this over in his head, he grabbed a piece of parchment and sat down at his desk. He slowly dipped his pen in the ink and wrote the first words down.

Dear Robert