Terrible Hangover and Embarrassing Questions

The next morning Minerva woke up at 6 o'clock as usual and wondered why she was laying on the couch and not in her bed. 'I must have fallen asleep reading a book', she thought, strechting herself luxuriously to work out the kincks in her joints. Sleeping on a couch wasn't a very good idea for a 52 year old woman. Minerva sat up wryly, afraid to feel stiffness or even pain, but was relieved to notice nothing but the usual heavyness of her limbs, still clinging to sleep. Slowly she stood up and stretched again, her hands high over her head and head thrown back. Her spinnal bones cracked faintly and she groaned in pleasure. Smiling softly to herself, she bent down over the couch and folded the blanket then picked up the pillow too and went to her bedroom door.

Minerva stepped into her bedroom and tossed blanket and pillow carelessly onto the bed, not even watching where it landed. Then she moved on to the bathroom. She was in the mood for a quick shower and semi-fancy clothes today.

After only a few minutes Minerva stepped out into her bedroom again. This time she was glad in only a tower wrapped around her form and one corner tucked in at her bosom, holding the whole construction together and leaving her hands free. She tried to brush out her tangled hair with her fingers but without any success. 'Of course', she thought sourly, 'when have they ever behaved as I wanted them to?' It was only a rhetorical question, though. 'And my students wonder why I put my hair up into a bun.'

Smiling at her thoughts this morning she went to her wardrobe and opened both doors wide.

"Now what to wear?" she asked herself quietly, rummaging through the contents.

Finally she settled on a dark blue and slightly clinging robe and a light blue dress to wear beneath it. Dropping her towle carelessly onto the floor, she selected underwear and put them on. She was just about to bent down to put on her stockings when she heard a deep groan eminating from the bed behind her. Heart pounding and wand in hand, she whirled around only to come face to face with a blushing Severus Snape.

"What are you doing in my rooms?" she screeched, her voice pitched higher than normal by an octave.

"What are you doing in MY rooms" asked Severus back, clutching his aching head with both hands and groaning pitiously.

"Severus Snape, you are most assuredly in my rooms. Now what ... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!"

Minerva had just noticed that she was standing in front of her former student in nothing but underwear and stockings. Mortified she grabbed the fallen towle and pressed it to her front, consealing herself from his gaze.

"I haven't seen ... much", he assured her hastily.

"GET OUT!" yelled Minerva, trying to play over her own embarrassement.

Snape crawled out of the bed on hands and knees, not after winching at her high volume, and staggered out into her living room, closing the door carefully behind him.

Minerva sat down on the bed with shaking knees. How could she have missed seeing him lay in her bed? And suddenly her memories of the previous evening came flooding back in. She groaned in misery and her head fell forward into her hands.

"He's probably mentally scarred for life", she tried to joke with more than a hint of self-sarcasm. "No use to cry over spilt milk, though, let's get this embarrassing situation over and done with."

Determindly she rose and dressed quickly.

----

Upon stepping into her living room, she immediately noticed the stench of various herbs and liquids. searching for the source of the foul odours, she approached the kitchen. Her fine cat senses were overwhelmed by the reeking fog in her little kitchen. In the midst of what looked like a battle field stood a scorched Severus.

"What have you done now, boy?" she asked, sounding a trifle aggressive.

"I wanna make hang-over remedy", mumbled a miserable Snape, looking more like the first year he had once been than the Potions teacher he was now.

"You BLEW UP my kitchen!" screamed Minerva, causing Severus to crinch back visibly.

Minerva took pity on him (even though he didn't deserve it for getting drunk in the first place) and shooed him out. Then she settled for brewing the remedy for Severus and cleaning up the remains of her kitchen.

Stepping out, she discovered Snape laying on her couch in a tight ball and vomit on the floor. She hissed at the sight of the mess and gingerly stepped around the sofa to hand Severus the potion over the back of the sofa.

"Drink up and get out of here before I jinx your sorry ass", she advised, feeling her grasp on her iron control slip.

Snape didn't need telling twice and left as fast as he could, stumbling over his robes and crashing head first into the door before realising that he had to open it to get out.

----

Minerva appraoched the dungeons with a sense of forboding. Severus had send her an owl, requesting her presence in his office. When she neared his office, she could hear angry voices and an even angrier Snape ordering silence. She knocked on his office door and was admitted to the dark room he called office immediately.

"You asked me to join you. So what are we having here?" she asked, taking in the scene in front of her.

Two students stood there with bowed heads but rebelliously glares. One was a Slytherin and the other a Gryffindor. 'So it's about the old antics.' She heaved a sigh and stepped towards the sudent of her house.

"What happened Mr. Thompson? And please stick to the facts. No insults and no exasperations", she warned the dark-haired boy standing before her.

"Worthington here put false ingredients in my potion and I retaliated by ..." Here the boy paused. Minerva knew why. They were always quick to tell the 'crimes' of the others but when it came to their own it was a different matter entirely.

"What did you do then?" she pressed on.

"I hit him with the jellyleg curse and he knocked down a cupboard with rare ingredients", muttered Thompson. Minerva actually had to bent forward to understand him.

"I see", she said. "Wait outside with Mr. Worthington while I discuss the matter with Professor Snape."

Both boys scrambled over each other in their haste to get out. Minerva turned to Severus the moment the lock of the door clicked shut.

"What were you doing in my rooms? I just remember you getting in and laying down on my bed, completely drunk might I add."

"Hell, Minerva, can't you start with lighter ammunition?"

"Just answer the damn question", hissed Minerva.

"I drank a lot with Hagrid, Filius, Albus at the Three Broomsticks. When we got home I still felt lonely and remembered that you always had been kind to me so I ...", he ended somewhat lamely.

"Oh", Minerva sounded surprised, "that's it?

"Yes. What did you think?"

"That you got lost. That you needed someone to talk to. That ... I don't know. Let's not discuss it further. What shall we do about the boys?" she asked and then went on without giving him a chance to answer. "I think you should let them collect the damaged ingredients together, you know teach them cooperation. And perhaps write a foot long essay about either what kind of potions they could brew with the things or about all four houses working together. What do you think?"

"I agrre with you. I'll call the boys."

After the two students had gone; Severus snorted at their stupidness to get caught. And then Severus snorted again, noticing Minerva still standing by the cupboard.

"Well, now that we've got Mr. Thompson sorted out, what can I do for you, Minerva? You were expecting another answer from me earlier."

Minerva took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"I need an honest opinion, from somebody I can depend on to be objective. No", she amended, "I take that back. I need an opinion and then ... depending on the opinion ... maybe a favour."

"No problem", Severus assured her. "Especially the opinion. My specialty, opinions." He rocked back in his chair then he folded his hands across his chest, fingers steepled, and nodded at Minerva. "Shoot."

"Am I sexually attractive?" Minerva demanded. His eyes always reminded her of vast pools of black. Now that went completely round, enhancing the resemblance.

Then they narrowed but he didn't answer immediately. He looked her over carefully, head to toe.

"It's a trick question, right?" he said. "I give you an answer in one of those women's libbers jumps out from behind the door, yells 'Sexist pig!' and hit me over the head with a sign that says 'Castrate Male Chauvinists'. Punishment for this morning. Huh?"

"No", she assured him. "A sexist male chauvinist answer is basically what I want."

"Oh, okay. As long as we're straight, then."

He resumed his perusal, squinting closely as Minerva stood up straight.

"Skinny white broad with too much hair, that a great ass", he said at last. "Nice tits, too", he added, with a cordial nod. "That what you want to know?"

"Yes", Minerva said, relaxing her rigid posture. "That's exactly what I wanted to know. It isn't the sort of question you can ask just anybody."

Severus pursed his lips in a silent whistle, then threw back his head and roared with delight.

"Professor McGonagall! You've got you a man!"

Minerva felt the blood rising in her cheeks, but tried to keep her dignity.

"I don't know. Maybe. Just maybe."

"Maybe, hell! Jesus Christ on a piece of toast, Professor McGonagall, it's about time!"

"Kindly quit cackling", she said, lowering herself into the chair opposite him. "It doesn't become your new station."

"Who is it?" he asked eagerly.

"You don't know him?"

"Come on tell me. You just said we are friends now."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because. Just tell me. I saw you half-naked; there can't be anything embarrassing between us anymore."

"NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!" yelled Minerva, finally losing her composure.