An Impatient Patient

The corridor was only dimly lit and gave Minerva the distinct impression of having entered a deserted factory building. There were a number of huge boxes standing around at the far end and the few doors were all heavily bolted. For a moment, the headmistress wondered whether she had taken a wrong turn, but then, suddenly, one of the doors, locked though it had previously seemed, was pushed open and the figure of a thin, hook-nosed man appeared. He seemed angry and attempted to slam the door behind him, but it merely groaned under its own weight and then slid back into closed position at a snail's pace. When the man turned, his dark gaze fell upon Minerva, who had halted five or six feet away from him, clutching her handbag to her chest.

It was as though someone had sucked all sound from the corridor. Both Professors gazed at each other, unmoving, only too well aware when their last encounter had taken place and how. Minerva's thoughts raced, going through possibilities of what to say to the man she had opposed more or less openly for almost a year now, but none seemed entirely right. Her body was trembling slightly and breathing was suddenly not as simple as it had seemed only minutes before.

"Severus…"

More silence.

"My friend…"

From the door behind the Snape, a second figure appeared, smaller than either of the two teachers, but bobbing up and down with rage nevertheless.

"So stubborn…" shouted Livius Toke at Severus, completely oblivious of Minerva's presence, "…and it's gonna be me who'll have to explain to Lestrange your lack of practice, is it? Well, I won't have –" He stopped, his eyes focussing on the spot behind his patient, where Minerva was standing almost motionlessly, vaguely surprised. She raised two and a half clammy fingers in greeting. Toke seemed confused.

"Oh… hi, Professor…"

Severus turned to the younger man, slowly and with a pointed expression on his gaunt face.

"We shall resume practice tomorrow. Same time, same place. Do not forget that I told you to ask Moody whether close observation through medical personel is, in fact, absolutely necessary."

Toke looked a little taken aback, but he was, as Minerva knew, someone who understood when the game was lost.

"Yes, sir," the young man replied, a slightly cold edge to his voice, and stalked off in the direction from which Minerva had just come. The colleagues' two gazes interlocked again.

"Interestingly bat-like flying style," Minerva eventually heard herself observe.

"Thank you," was the curt reply.

"We kept the window as it was," continued the headmistress sarcastically. "As an eternal reminder of your stupidity."

"Stupidity?" Her colleague seemed honestly surprised.

"Well, yes, stupidity," Minerva breathed. "One word, Severus. One small gesture, and you would not have had to live with our resistence for an entire year. I would have needed to know – would have wanted to know…"

"I know you would," stated her colleague, watching her intently through a pair of glittering, dark eyes. He seemed to consider her anger (or perhaps survey it by the means given to him through Legilimency?) and decide that she was angry out of defence. "There is nothing I accuse you of, Minerva," he thus added, "You did nothing wrong."

There was more silence. Minerva considered, just for a moment, whether to take offence at this statement, but then decided to recognise it as a somewhat clumsy attempt of making her feel better. Severus's face was lit from above now, which, Minerva realised, was rare. Even in the Great Hall, most of the light had always come from the side or even below, making the man seem ugly – even menacing.

"I refuse to let you hand out pardons here," she replied a little crisply, taking a few very small steps towards him, only to stop again when sensing that any further advances would mean invading his personal boundaries. "You lied to me, Severus. Years, and years, and years of lying."

"I did?" the young man said, sounding surprised again. "Would you care to enlighten me exactly when I have not told you the exact truth about my current status within the war? Did I not always tell you that I was acting on Dumbledore's orders, and his orders alone, and would continue to do so for the rest of my life?"

"I am not talking about your status," Minerva said tartly. "I never really bought the 'big bad Death Eater' nonsense. But how about you assuring me that 'really, nothing unusual' was going on last year before you left us so spectacularly?"

"Plotting an attack on an enemy is not unusual for Death Eaters," her colleague informed her, his lips curling slightly. "Really, Minerva. You of all people should know that to obtain good answers, you will need to ask very precise questions."

For a moment, Minerva was at a loss what to say.

"And the killing of Dumbledore?" she eventually asked. "Would you consider the killing unusual at least?"

"I notice you are no longer talking about cold-blooded murder, as you did in your countless speeches last year," Severus observed.

"It was planned, was it not?" Minerva retorted, her eyes narrowed.

"Yes," said Severus simply. "As I am sure Potter has already told you in great detail."

"Potter told me nothing," snapped Minerva angrily. "He did mention that you were 'on our side' – with half the school and You-Know-Who assembled around him – but when I questioned him on the topic of your… ah… allegiances a little later, he merely said that the information you had given him was strictly private and that I would have to trust him on the matter."

Severus's eyes narrowed incredulously. Minerva knew that the idea of Potter keeping a secret to himself disagreed with everything Severus thought he knew of the boy and Gryffindors in general. "The entire school?"

"It was quite a spectacle," Minerva sighed. "Quite a number of people worship you as a tragic hero now. I do not think most of them realise that you did not, in fact, die. News travel slowly if the original version is so much more romantic."

"What do you mean – 'romantic'?"

Suddenly, Severus seemed very alert. Minerva wondered, just for a second, if there was a point of the story she had, once again, not been told, but then resolved that if Severus wished to share this information, he would volunteer it in due time.

"Yes," she replied softly. "You know, the despised Potions teacher who turns out to be a double-agent for the 'good side' and dies in the process of saving the wizarding world. It is all very fantasy. You were not supposed to survive."

Severus seemed to consider this, his gaze slightly unfocussed for a moment or two. "And yet I did…" he then mumbled, tracing his thin lips with one of his spidery fingers. "I escaped death."

"So you did," Minerva said, sensing a sudden heat on her cheeks. "Severus, why don't we sit down somewhere? The hospital has a lovely café on the upmost level…"

"I am afraid I am not allowed to leave this part of the building," her colleague replied darkly. "Current circumstances force me to stay away from all kinds of magic, even elevators and basic cleaning spells, and this area is magically sealed so that no magic whatsoever can accidentally get in or out."

"Sounds as though you are exposed to sealing magic all the time," Minerva frowned, angry at herself for having forgotten about her colleague's feeble state.

"I know," he replied, "but that is not how the body perceives it. It all has to do with whether the magic is large-scale or not. If you seal a huge area like this wing, it is like thinning a potion and thus rendering the individual ingredients within, however strong they might be, harmless to the drinker."

"But ingredients – I mean magic is not allowed in here," Minerva contradicted. "Why would it not be if it could not harm you?"

"It could not harm anyone with a minor theurgic disfunction," Severus said drily. "A person, on the other hand, who freely distributes a potion containing shredded doxy teeth on their back…"

"I understand," Minerva said quickly. "Of course you would still be in a critical state after all this."

They found a place, eventually, where they could talk freely without tedious interruptions by nurses or other patients. There was a small room at the end of the first year corridor in which Severus's ward was situated, which provided a small table and a couple of chairs, as well as a completely mechanical, non-magic coffee machine. Minerva examined it thoroughly before sitting down, not being much of a coffee person. Severus looked tense and somehow forlorn. He was wearing the ochre shirt of those who stayed in St. Mungo's longer than just a day or two, but moved as elegantly as ever, Minerva found.

"They tell me my magic will return," Severus eventually opened the conversation. "But it will remain unstable for a long time."

Minerva nodded, remembering Lestrange's words.

"It seems I will have to live away from wizarding folk for a while," her colleague continued pensively, "which should not pose much of a problem. Spinner's End has never been particularly magical."

"You do have Floo access there, though, do you not?" the headmistress enquired critically. "And is the old mill not used as an entry lane for the main Portkey route to Cornwall?"

Severus thumped his hand flatly on the table. "I never thought about that," he mumbled. "Having witches and wizards appear and disappear frequently in my front yard might pose a problem. I shall make some enquiries. Moody has an excellent knowledge of these things, albeit being a abysmal potions brewer."

"She must have done well in her final exams to get accepted at St. Mungo's though," Minerva observed, permitting herself a small smile at her sharp-tongued friend. "She did not seem particularly happy to find you in her care, by the way. It seems you gave her a rather hard time at school."

"Remind me," replied Severus coldly, "was it you who told me that it is impossible for a teacher to be liked by every single of his students?"

"It was," Minerva sighed. "But I would also have thought it impossible for an entire group of Gryffindor first-years to rally up against a particular teacher in the course of a single year, fifteen years in a row without an apparent reason. You already proved me wrong in too many matters."

"Gryffindors are bullies by nature," Severus replied, almost automatically. "They tear apart whatever they get into their greedy little hands."

"Do not even go there!" Minerva snapped. "I strongly suggest you refrain from insulting my students in front of me while your condition is still as fragile as it is!"

"You know well that your current students are an insult to themselves," Severus retorted, ignoring her empty threat. "And to the house's 'good' reputation."

They were both back in shape – and well aware of it. Minerva drummed her fingers on the mock wooden surface of the table, looking stern.

"My Gryffindors are no more bullies than your Slytherins, Severus Snape," she said tartly. "The things Draco Malfoy alone believes he can afford within Hogwarts walls are a true affront to the spirit of the school –"

"The spirit of the school has always consisted of healthy rivalry," Severus retorted. "Draco Malfoy lives up to this without overstepping the line, unlike certain other very popular… Incidentally, are there any Death Eater children at all who returned to school after the Dark Lord fell?"

Seriousness was back. Minerva stopped in the middle of a well thought-through retort and heaved a small sigh instead.

"Slytherin house is seriously reduced in numbers," she said quietly. "But yes, some returned. And I have to tell you that we have a similar situation as last time – a lot of people returned and now claim they acted under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Personally, I would refrain from re-admitting half of them on Hogwarts grounds ever again. But, alas, no one asks what I think, of course."

"You are the headmistress," Severus observed drily. "I expect they will have you let a say in the matter."

"I wish," Minerva mumbled. "Of course I was temporarily installed as headmistress again when Kingsley took up his new position as Minister for Magic, but –"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt?"

"How many Kingsleys do you know, Severus?"

"A half-blood Minister for Magic?"

Minerva's expression turned to stone.

"I beg your pardon?"

There was a small silence.

"I'll just pretend I did not hear that, shall I?" Minerva heard her own voice, sharp with the fear of the unspoken. Severus hesitated and then nodded.

"Apologies," he said coldly.

"I shall have to leave soon," Minerva said curtly. "Hogwarts duties."

"No!" The younger man's voice suddenly assumed an odd tone, which Minerva had rarely ever heard on him, and only ever in extreme situations. "Please…"

Having half raised from her chair already, she lowered herself again slowly, gripping both arms of her chair quite tensely.

"Do not leave me on account of what I just said," said Severus then, his voice suddenly hoarse. "I do not… wish for us to part like this. And it was not my intention to sound like… as though…"

"As though you still had not left behind the old values to which your former master so desperately used to cling," Minerva said gently, taking one of her colleague's pale, long-fingered hands into her own. "I understand, Severus. More than you know. I always have, even if the headmaster and you stubbornly refused to take notice of it."

"I did!" he said quickly, not quite meeting the headmistress's eye. Minerva shook her head to herself, just slightly, understanding that this was not the time, nor the place.

"I know you try to," she replied. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Severus. We have a staff meeting this afternoon and I would not want to be late, seeing as the meeting cannot begin without me."

There was another silence. Then the Snape nodded, solemnly, as though coming to terms with her leaving so abruptly.

"I shall be looking forward to talking to you again, headmistress."

"I see you tomorrow, Severus."