Disclaimer: All known quantities are owned by JKR, creator of the HP universe.

A/N: If you don't like Minerva, ADMM, MMSS, Severus Snape, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, and/or you don't like making fun of Albus Dumbledore's idiosyncrasies and the HP world, I strongly suggest you don't read this.

All others - enjoy, tear up, devour, and/or torch as you please.

Special thanks to Future Starkid Member for being a wonderful beta! :D Couldn't have done this without you! ^^

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Chapter One: Decisions

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Severus Snape would always blame himself for living. It was the one thing he would keep blaming himself for – and probably the one thing he might never see past. His staunch belief that everything bad in his life was his own fault tormented him.

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Shaking his head, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, ate another chocolate. He was a famous man in the wizarding world for many reasons, not least of which were his position and his powers. He was a heavily adorned, old wizard – most of his medals came from his younger days – and he was held in high esteem by all who knew him. He was currently pouring tea for his Deputy Headmistress, who had been chewing his ear off with all her female emotional talk.

"– And Albus, you have to see he wasn't –" the woman stopped her rant abruptly. "Oh, thank you, Albus," she smiled, taking the proffered cuppa gladly.

He was a dear, to sit there and offer her comfort, the listening, sympathetic ear of a friend, and a fire so she wouldn't feel too cold. The castle was old and drafty, despite all attempts to keep it warm and cozy.

Taking advantage of this unique opportunity, namely, a pause in a long rant, Albus said, "My dear. Minerva. Look at me."

He waited until she looked up and met his eyes.

"It pleases me to see you finally take an interest – a personal interest – in a student. And, no less, a student who is not in your House."

Minerva McGonagall was not fooled. As Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, Transfiguration Professor and Albus's former student, Minerva knew that Albus was up to something. Sighing, she rubbed her forehead deliberately, as if trying to get rid of a headache.

"Why do you look smug, Albus?" she finally asked, after a few moments of silence.

Eyes twinkling, (always a sign of mischief in the making), the older man tried his best to look abashed.

"I see you have found me out," he replied, smiling. He stroked his beard fondly as he thought.

Minerva's eyes flashed dangerously. Albus was stroking his beard. She held in the snort of disapproval that she desperately wanted to voice, but wouldn't. Why was it that all men who grew beards thought it made them look wiser? Why were men so fascinated with facial hair? Minerva did not and probably would never understand it. In fact, one of her most pleasant dreams was the day Albus got a very badly needed shave. Just the thought of that day made her smile and purr in happiness.

Albus softly said, "I am glad because the boy you are defending is one of the few students here who will encounter many troubles. He has many obstacles and, so far as I can see, he has a hard life to walk."

Minerva's face wore the exasperated look she reserved for any talk of Divination. That branch of magic had never seemed of importance to her. If it were someone like a centaur, it'd be different and she'd take it seriously. Centaurs knew - it was part of their Centauriness. But a human? No way in Merlin's Enchanted Tea Set would she believe humans could truly channel the powers of Divining the Future.

Albus fell silent. Minerva chanced a quick glance at his face. It wasn't misty-eyed and somber like other fake - um, wannabe - Seers. Minerva mentally choked a little, trying hard not to think of Sybil Trelawney, who had been interviewed recently. While the poor dear deserved pity and a home, she was no true Seer. Minerva turned back to study Albus. He wore an enormous grin that made him look like the damn Cheshire Cat.

Minerva tried her best not to vent her anger. She'd probably end up getting the short end of the stick either way, so she continued to look disapprovingly over her spectacles at the older wizard. The older wizard in question was now completely ignoring her presence. Instead of focusing on their necessary chat, he was engrossed in the task of finding that one particular candy he craved from the mound of sweets that littered his huge oak desk. Had Albus looked up, he would have seen a very pale Minerva sporting a sickly complexion. And he certainly would not have missed seeing the look in her eyes that said: I wish I had eaten dinner.

Having found the perfect sweet - a rainbow gumdrop - Albus popped the candy into his mouth and smiled gleefully, looking like a little Muggle boy eating his first chocolate bar.

At last, Albus said, "Now that you've shown an interest, I hope you will not fail."

Albus did not say 'fail him', not wanting to put too much pressure on Minerva. But, nevertheless, she understood his thoughts. They had been friends for many years.

While it may be utterly impossible to understand what the Greater Good really is, at some point in his friendships, Albus Dumbledore is good enough to drop hints from the Guide Book for Fools: All About Albus. His eyes, his phoenix, Fawkes, and his gestures would, occasionally, be explained explicitly so any First Year could understand. Yes, it may be hard to believe that the Kindest, Gentlest, Wisest, Handsomest and Most Powerful Wizard of All, Albus Dumbledore, from time to time offered a glimpse of that all-encompassing Dumbledore for Dummies tutorial. But true to his adjectives, there were moments when the great Albus deigned to inform his sycophantic fans - um, avid admirers - of his intentions.

Minerva, obviously, was not happy with this response. She deemed it a continuation of Albus's efforts at that oh so dubious branch of magic, also known as Divination. Raising an eyebrow, Minerva bit the inside of her lip to stop her from either reprimanding Albus or shooting him am impertinent comment. Or maybe to prevent herself from doing both. Merlin knows Albus was the only wizard who could get her tartan practical handkerchief in a twist!

Finally, she got up the courage to ask, "Why is he in Slytherin?" Her tone was a bit harsher than normal, but she decided Albus deserved it. It was past her time to be the smug one.

Albus helped himself to more sugar cubes, making his sickeningly sweet cup of tea even sweeter. It was as though he was trying to avoid the question - he perfected his tea while avoiding her gaze. After he could delay no longer, he looked up into Minerva's eyes.

"Minerva, I must admit that I don't know the definite answer. I can only say this: I would assume Severus either chose Slytherin to be his House, or he asked the Sorting Hat to put him in a House that was not the House of Mr. James Potter and Mr. Sirius Black. After all, their incident – the, ah, bullying on the train – must have left a negative impression."

Minerva's face flushed a bright red.

"Negative impression?" she positively screeched, causing Albus to wince. "Negative impression?" she repeated, stressing his words. "Albus, is that what you call it?"

Minerva was furious at her friend, and Albus looked every bit the guilty schoolboy, caught reading an X-rated magazine in class.

Albus sighed and placed his teacup on the table between them, eyes still furtively looking away from her.

"Yes, I suppose you are right, Minerva. I just can't believe that it was unprovoked."

Minerva's mouth twitched in fury.

"Unprovoked? Albus, these boys were horrid! I am ashamed to think that they are in Gryffindor!"

Shivering at the thought of a long seven years ahead of her, Minerva slunk further into the cozy armchair. Closing her eyes, she asked the question she had been dreading.

"Albus, what should I do? What punishment should they receive?"

"As their Head of House, I would expect you to tell me – or rather, them," Albus answered, enjoying Minerva's shock. "I am far too busy to keep holding these long, and rather tedious, meetings."

Minerva stood up and walked over to Fawkes's perch. This matter would require careful handling. Fawkes was always a calming creature. Absentmindedly petting the Most Beautiful Thing That Had Saved Albus's Life More Than Once, Minerva mustered the courage to ask the question she had been waiting to ask. Carefully keeping her back turned to Albus, she spoke softly in a neutral tone.

"What if you don't agree?"

"That is not my choice," he replied, keeping his tone deliberately neutral as well. He had folded his hands in his lap, trying his best not to laugh. Had this not been such a serious issue, he knew Minerva would be laughing, too. A comforting thought - one of the few he had at the moment.

Minerva bowed her head. She had feared he would say that.

Nodding her head mechanically, she gave Fawkes one last affectionate pat on the head.

"Good night, Albus," Minerva said courteously. "Thank you for the tea."

She hurried out of the Headmaster's office as Albus muttered something inaudible.

Albus leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, and eyes gazing into the flames. The fire crackled and spat, tongues licking lazily against the stone. Yes, this would be a year he'd never let Minerva forget. He smiled devilishly and summoned a pack of Tarot cards to his desk. Time to indulge his secret passion - um, hobby - again. Really, Sybil had been too nice. Poor dear. She had given him this particular deck - even after he had rejected her application. Albus had somehow managed to convince Professor Claire to stay for another four years, at least. Thoughtfully staring into the flames, Albus threw down three cards on the desk.

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Minerva headed back to Gryffindor Tower, taking on her tabby cat animagus form. She was furious with Horace Slughorn, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. She was nervous about Albus, wannabe Seer In Training. He probably had gotten drunk with Sybil again, hence his strange behavior tonight.

For a brief moment, her mind maliciously thought, He probably drank that awful cooking sherry! Really, Albus should know better. But when you flatter him, he's bowled over.

Shaking her head, she moved on. She was furious with herself. Why were Mr. Potter and Mr. Black her concern? Well, Mr. Potter had a right - his father had been in her House before. But Mr. Black? His whole family was Slytherin. Why was Sirius a Gryffindor? Cursing at herself, she arrived at the tower floor in no time. Her cat's eyes were especially good in the dark and her lithe figure became even faster with the cat's instincts. She cursed in her head again. She should have known better than to become a cat when she was this mad!

Once she cleared the stairs, Minerva changed back into her human form on the top landing. She walked along the darkened corridor warily, eyes still adjusting to the night. She was careful not to brush against the walls. If she had, she would disturb the paintings. No doubt they would scare her half to death as they had her first year during her first nighttime patrol. She had learned her lesson then: never use Lumos after midnight in the corridors. If you do, be prepared to deal with the horrid, grumpy, groggy paintings!

As she neared the far end of the hallway without mishap, Minerva strode along more confidently. Quickly, she checked the Gryffindor Common Room and dormitories to make sure everything was all right. After the train debacle, she wouldn't put it past the boys to cause more mischief.

Once she was satisfied all was well, Minerva headed for her own rooms. Right outside her door, she tripped over something on the ground.

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A/N: I hope this chapter was neither too dialogue heavy, nor too silly.

Once more, special thanks to Future Starkid Member – I hope you don't mind if I ask you to continue being the wonderful beta you are!

Anyone who has comments or wishes to have input for this story, I'd be glad to hear your suggestions. :)

Any errors are mine - I have edited a bit since I came up with an idea for Chapter 2. ^^ teehee

Cheerio!