A/N- My thanks to everyone who has read, fav'd, followed, and commented on the opening chapter; the kind words and support is what keeps me coming back. Happy reading!
As it turned out, Severus was ten bloody points away from taking the entire pot. Despite the loss it's star seeker, Slytherin won the championship match in fine form—as well as the Quidditch and House Cup—but the victory came with a margin of ninety points, not the required one-hundred. Even with the knowledge that he'd not be walking away empty-handed—he was getting quite the kitty of summer funds thanks to his wagers with other staff members—the failure rankled.
Min was smugly triumphant at the Head Table during the Leaving Feast. "You were so close," she crowed, toasting him with her wine glass. "It's a pity that close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades."
Severus rolled his eyes; she didn't seem to realise that he had her exactly where he wanted her. "And it's a pity that you don't seem to recognise that winning a single battle means absolutely nothing if you've lost the entire bloody war."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore's mouth flatten in reaction to the comment and felt a surge of satisfaction; the old man hated to lose anything, especially if it was to Slytherin, and the Headmaster could tell that Severus had more in the works for Minerva.
"Indeed," Severus continued, letting his tone drip with false solicitude, "…it's such a shame that Gryffindor once again came in last for House Cup, and came in third for Quidditch Cup. Still, you'll be learning to drive this summer. That's worth something, isn't it?"
He rose, neatly tucking his napkin under the edge of his plate. "Minerva, do let me know when you've secured a car for us to begin the lessons. I've heard that hiring one can be quite an expense, so you might want to inquire into the used market… of course, both will require you to have a Muggle license, and if you do buy, remember that you'll need to pay the road tax as well as provide proof of insurance."
"But you have a car, and license…" she spluttered, shock erasing her smugness.
"Yes, I do," he agreed placidly. "However, our agreement only specified that I would teach you how to drive, not that I provide the vehicle… or any of the other items one needs to drive."
Hefting both cups up by their handles, Severus made a shallow bow as Minerva's shock swiftly turned to anger. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to congratulate my Slytherins on their excellent victories."
Fleeing for the safety of the student tables, he didn't bother to hide his smirk.
His Slytherins had been appropriately jubilant—indeed, the loud cheer that had greeted his arrival to the Slytherin table had warmed the cold cockles of his heart—and Snape had spent several hours celebrating with them in the Common Room following the Leaving Feast.
The Castle had subsided into a sleepy silence by the time he had finally made it to the trophy room to secure the cups in the glass display cabinet. Carefully buffing the last of the fingerprints from the shiny silver surface of the Quidditch Cup, he stepped back to admire the metallic shine as well as the lingering euphoria of victory.
As he registered the barely audible scuff of a shoe on the flagstones behind him, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose. On time as ever, he thought dryly, wondering how much of fight he was in for with his Deputy Headmistress. Turning to face the door, Severus loosened the wand strapped to his arm and readied a non-verbal shielding charm just in case.
Minerva was in towering fury, hair falling from her customary chignon and eyes shooting emerald sparks. Were she in cat form, he had no doubt that she'd be hissing at him, tailed puffed up and claws out.
"Come to re-negotiate?" he asked casually, picking a piece of lint from his sleeve.
"Tell me," she hissed, "…do you enjoy always being a Machiavellian, petty bastard?"
"You'd have to ask Albus about that," he shot back heatedly, "…but if you mean, do I enjoy pointing out to foolhardy Gryffindors the extent and cost of their hubris? Endlessly. You've gotten sloppy, Minerva. Two years ago, you would have remembered to secure the conditions and provisos before agreeing to any bargain. Hell, two years ago, you would have simply asked me to teach you how to drive, not proposed some hasty and ill-thought out bet in a misguided effort to staunch your wildly swinging emotions."
"How dare you!"
He stepped closer, deliberately invading her space. "How dare I what? Point out that you've let yourself wallow in grief? That you've been taking utterly absurd risks and ignoring everything of importance that has happened since your husband's death?"
For a brief moment, Severus thought that Minerva would slap him, but with a sharp intake of breath, a cold mask slid over her features.
"Ah, what a warm, caring heart you have…" she drawled, voice biting.
"Because warmth and concern have really helped you cope this last year and a half, haven't they?" He shook his head scornfully. "But yes, I suppose you are correct. I rather lack empathy. After all, it's not like I've lost anyone that I've loved."
Severus let his words hang in the chill night air of the Castle, knowing exactly what memories they would invoke. Minerva had dragged his drunken carcass off the dungeon floor enough times following Lily's murder to understand the depth of his feelings. Of his absolute guilt and self-recrimination…
Her mouth tightened in reaction, silently conceding the point.
"What do you want?" she finally asked.
"Exactly what we discussed before. You teach me to become an Animagus, and I'll teach you to drive."
"And the conditions?"
Severus shrugged. "I will provide all materials relating to my lessons, such as the vehicle and petrol, and you do the same for transfiguration. We agree to find mutually convenient dates and locations to meet. Instruction will continue for sixth months or until mastery is achieved, whichever comes first. Any issues that occur during the lessons will be handled in good faith renegotiation. If a mediator is required, we bring in Poppy."
"Oh, now you want to bring in a good faith clause?"
"Have any of my requests or terms been that onerous?"
Min pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking it through before replying.
"Fine. I will agree to your terms. But I want to start with the driving lessons first—you'll have to re-read the seventh-year transfiguration text again and demonstrate sufficient knowledge of it before I even consider training you in the primary stages of transformation."
"Naturally." Pulling out a tattered and coffee-stained book, he tossed it at her. "You'll want to read this as well."
"The Rules of the Road?"
He smirked. "Unless you would prefer me to lecture you on the subject of road safety?"
"No, thank you." Tucking the slim volume into her robes, she levelled a hard stare at him. "You've chosen a dangerous way to begin working under my instruction again. It's a pity I can no longer take points for your poor behaviour."
"I'm sure you'll find a way to assuage that unfortunate deficiency."
The corner of her mouth lifted. "Oh, I will. As you are no longer a Hogwarts student, I'm longer prohibited from using corporal punishment, for one thing. I could put you over my knee and paddle your bum should it come to that."
"You could try," he returned, pleased to see a hint of her normal humour. "You would not succeed, however."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, boyo." Her green eyes suddenly glinted with a challenge, and something stirred within Severus in response to the shift.
Perhaps his response was due to the all the wine he had drunk at supper, or the fact that she had not only called him 'boyo' in a saucy tone but had also just threatened to spank him. Regardless, their banter obliterated the last fragments of his school-boy hesitancy to treat Minerva as a sexual creature.
He leaned in, crowding her body into the door frame and mouth nearly brushing her ear. She smelled of jasmine and something deeper, and it was oddly alluring. Letting his voice turn into silk, he purred, "You will be learning to drive in a Muggle area, Minerva." Sliding long fingers across her trim waist and up the line of her spine, Severus yanked at the plait of hair that escaped her chignon. Her head tipped up, the soft skin of her throat momentarily exposed as he pulled. "Dress… appropriately. Don't embarrass me."
Releasing her hair and stepping back, he glided through the door and began to billow down the dark hallway.
"Severus…" she called, and he slowed, glancing over his shoulder. "Why do you want to learn to be an Animagus?"
Memories of his youth assaulted him; of being hunted and tracked down all across Hogwarts like prey with absolutely no recourse. There was a myriad of incidents in his later years, times when having a second form would have made his life far easier and safer. And then, of course, was the fact that he had longed to slip on the skin of another for as long as he could remember. To not be Severus Tobias Snape for once…
"Because I'm tired of being told no."