Chapter 11

But it was not your fault but mine

And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn't I, my dear?

(Mumford and Sons, Little Lion Man)

Minerva couldn't understand why Severus was so hard on Harry Potter. The boy was rather timid and modest. When she told him that Harry Potter was much more like his mother than his father, he'd coldly left and hadn't talked to her for several days.

She'd been ashamed of herself for bringing Lily back. Obviously, he was far from being over her, or over her death, despite what he'd told her years ago. She couldn't fault him there: she would never forget Dougal, after all, and there was always something to remind her of him. If the boy wasn't a daily reminder of Lily for Severus, she didn't know what was.

Somehow, Harry Potter always seemed to bring out the worst in him, just like the mere mention of Severus provoked the boy and his friends to act rashly. She'd been several times shocked to hear the lack of respect they had for their Potions teacher, and she couldn't blame him for the points – not that much, really – he deducted from them.

It was at times like these that she did see James in the boy and she worried. For him, and for their world. Lily was bright, loyal and courageous. She knew what she wanted, and nothing could stop her. She was of the stuff heroes are made of, and if Harry followed in her steps, he would fulfil his destiny. But James Potter, although gifted and undeniably courageous too, had always been rather volatile. He could go from enthusiasm to despair in a trice, and do the rashest things on a whim. She couldn't deny that Harry was impulsive, not when he always plunged headlong in mad adventures without thinking, causing Severus to almost tear his hair out.

§§§

1994

"Irresponsible! Unreliable! He has nothing to do at Hogwarts and if he hasn't the decency to leave, I will make him."

"Severus! Stop that!"

"No, Minerva. Don't waste your breath defending that spineless idiot. Dumbledore offers him one of the most complicated and costly medicine in the world, I spend my nights brewing it, and he just decides he has more urgent things to do than drink his Wolfsbane! It would have taken what? Five, ten seconds at most to drink it! What kind of teacher will do that? What kind of responsible adult? Where would we be if he'd turned Harry Potter and his friends?"

Severus had run like mad to the Shrieking Shack. He'd come to Lupin's office to retrieve his goblet, only to find it still full and the man gone. The moves on a magical map, abandoned just as carelessly drew his eyes. He saw red when he read the name of Sirius Black, particularly when he watched the names of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley walking straight to the place. He'd left at once, unaware of the frightened or startled looks he collected on the way out of the school. The little idiots were going to be caught between a sadistic murderer and his werewolf accomplice.

Now, he couldn't get over the fact that the students had chosen to attack him – him! – and that Albus himself had once again turned against him to save Lily's murderer. All right, it had turned that he didn't really betray Lily, but the Headmaster didn't know it at the time. Nobody knew it, and they still chose to help Black.

They always chose Black against him.

If the werewolf stayed one more minute in the school to top it all, it was him who was going to leave, and sod the consequences!

Minerva was caught in the crossfire. She couldn't find fault with Severus' feelings, even if she knew he was acting more out of resentment than out of logic. On the other hand, Remus Lupin was the most competent DADA teacher they had in years, and a decent man to boot.

Somehow, Dumbledore must have considered all the possible implications and consequences of hiring a werewolf for a position nobody could hold for a whole year. At least, she hoped so.

She cornered the old wizard like a fury, but he stole the wind out of her sails when he deflated right in front of her. "I hired Remus Lupin because I thought he was the only one who could recognise and stop Sirius Black if he came here, after Harry Potter. I didn't hide from him that the position's jinxed and that he could very well be killed before the end of the year. He still chose to come."

He sighed. "On the other hand, I also understand Severus' predicament. He always passes for the villain while putting all his energy in trying to keep Harry safe, even at great risk for himself. But he knows it can't be otherwise."

"Knowing it and living it through what he considers to be another personal betrayal from you are two things."

"And what would you have me do, Minerva?"

"Speak to him, at least!" She shouted. "You know as well as me that if you'd told him from the first that you hired Remus as a bodyguard for Harry Potter, things wouldn't have turned out so badly."

"Are you sure of what you say? We're speaking of Severus Snape, a man who can carry grudges for years."

She wanted nothing more than throttle him. "And whose fault is it that he has so many grudges to carry from his school years, Headmaster?" she asked in a glacial tone.

"If you want to hear me say it's mine, I quite agree with you but it's no use lamenting over spilt brew. I tried to make whatever amends I could. I know it's not enough. It will never be enough with Severus. And however cruel it may sound, being exposed publicly as a werewolf is a merciful way for Remus Lupin to leave."

She fumed. "You could advice him to resign all by himself, without forcing Severus to make a move he'll regret. Remus doesn't deserve any more bitterness and betrayal either."

"You don't understand. Remus stopped hiding his condition a few years ago. He doesn't proclaim it, as you know, and until he became a Professor, he wasn't important enough for anyone to bother inquiring. Now, it will come out sooner or later. I can shoulder the blame, Severus can't. There's no way he'll be able to explain to the Death Eaters and their Pureblood associates that he didn't know. They will be enraged that Black escaped after being spotted at Hogwarts. Remus is the most obvious scapegoat. He needs to return to anonymity for his own safety, while Severus needs to expose Remus Lupin to justify himself."

"You planned it that way!" She accused, and she could see the plain truth of it in his face. "You planned from the first that Severus would be the one ousting Remus from the school, and you didn't even have the decency to tell them!"

"I didn't plan," he said coldly. "I calculated the odds, and the probabilities for things to unravel that way were high… But they were higher for Remus' death."

"You're just an old hypocrite! As usual, you say only half the truth to Remus, and nothing at all to Severus. They're not just puppets for you to use."

"They're grown men who know to assume the consequences of their actions."

"How convenient for you."

"That's true, but not in the cynical way you pretend to give to my words. Are you sure you'd want to be in my shoes?"

"No, because I want to be able to look at myself without saying, here's a cold-blooded manipulator."

"Yes, Minerva, I'm a manipulator. Some would call it more kindly a strategist. It comes with the job. But I'll not let you think that I do it coldly, and they both signed for it. Do you think it's so easy? Do you really think these boys I watched grow are just pawns for me?"

She didn't trust herself to answer, when she remembered Severus Snape as a teenager and the double standard treatment he'd received at the hands of the Headmaster. Instead, she pleaded, "Albus, speak to them."

He puffed out of his cheeks but finally promised,"I will."

Of course, he didn't say when.

§§§

1995

Minerva was so looking forward to dancing with Severus at the Yule Ball. One dance. She didn't ask for more. He'd grumbled but gave in, provided it was the last, when everyone would be too tired or too busy with their dates to notice them. And she was to be seen pestering him and dragging him on the dance floor against his will, mind you.

It was that awful Igor Karkaroff who prevented it. The nerve of the man! He'd monopolised the Potions master all evening, arguing, pleading for she didn't know what, following Severus like a dog… And forgetting he'd tried to trade off his place in Azkaban against Severus'.

She supposed Karkaroff knew he'd made a mistake in coming to Hogwarts – to the country of the unforgiving people he'd deserted. A coward, betrayed by his own vanity and trying to hide behind Severus.

Severus was far from a coward and he was always so self-assured, so composed in public. But in private, he sometimes startled or paled without a word, and for no obvious reason. It had begun with the Tournament. She believed at first that he was over-stressed. He had not only to compose with Alastor Moody but also with the unknown threats on Harry Potter on top of the permanent circus of the tournament.

And then, Dumbledore called a discreet little meeting at the Hog's Head.

Minerva had been surprised of the place, because she was sure Albus hadn't spoken to his brother in years. She'd been even more surprised, and she wasn't the only one, to meet there the surviving members of the inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix. Arthur and Molly were already there, as well as Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle arrived later. Sturgis Podmore couldn't make it, but Hestia was to meet him later and tell him. Neither Alastor nor Severus attended because they were teaching, but they already knew what Dumbledore was going to reveal—that he had reasons to believe that Voldemort was not only alive but gaining strength by the day.

In the evening, she transformed and sought out the Potions master. She found him grading, and he barely lifted his head to smile wryly when she entered. He was surprised however when she transformed. She usually just came in his office for a few minutes of purring and head butting.

"Dumbledore told us that Voldem-,"

"Don't say his name!" She watched the scowl she hated transform his face, before he sighed,"He feels it, through me."

"You're worrying yourself sick, aren't you? Dumbledore told us he's gaining strength. He has it from you... Through your Mark?"

He nodded slowly.

"So, that's why Karkaroff is so frightened?" It wasn't really a question, and she didn't ask if Snape was frightened too. How could he not be? She was terrified simply by hearing about it. He felt it, in his flesh.

She didn't care students might have seen her enter. The probability any of them was vigilant enough to recognise her was slim, she insisted, and he couldn't but agree. She dragged him from his desk and they entered his quarters.

He kissed and touched her just as eagerly as usual, but he was strangely reticent to let her touch him. She quite literally had to tear his clothes off, and it was impossible to miss how he tried to hide his left forearm by holding it tight against his hip before sliding it in her back.

Her eyes never leaving his, she softly cupped his cheek with one hand, and lifted his hand with the other. Then, just as softly, she turned his wrist and watched him blanch.

"Shhhh," she crooned. "I don't care."

His face crumpled and he hid his face in her shoulder. He let her see. He even let her touch it. She outlined it with a light finger and sensed him tense, though he didn't make a sound.

He was a member of the Inner Circle. Unlike Death Eaters of lesser rank, the pale tatoo was complete with skull and snake and it would never disappear again, at least while Voldemort was alive. It would turn black when he was called again to his master.

Beginning with his wrist and forearm, she proceeded to make love to him as tenderly and passionately as he'd made love to her their first night, and he made love to her as if it was the last time.

When that last time came, much more swiftly than they would have believed, they didn't recognise it.

§§§

Minerva thought Severus would get ill when Dumbledore compelled him to shake hands with Black as a public acknowledgement that they would work together to bring Voldemort down.

If only the day had ended with nothing worse than that!

Voldemort had literally flayed Snape alive when he Apparated much later than the others, but he didn't kill him outright, for two reasons.

First, because he was not one to give a swift, merciful death to a traitor. He had spent thirteen years nursing his resentment and it wasn't the time he'd spent possessing Quirinus Quirell that allayed his suspicions about Snape's true loyalties.

And then, because he was curious. He wanted to know what he'd wondered about all this time: if Godric's Hollow had been a trap, and if Snape knew what happened with Harry Potter to destroy him so.

The one thing that saved Snape wasn't his true ignorance of the events of the night of Hallowen 1981, it was the vision of his absolute despair and breakdown after Lily's death. He managed to pass it of as grief for the loss of his master.

§§§

Minerva couldn't stand Lucius Malfoy but she silently blessed him, from the bottom of her heart, for giving his friend first aid and bringing him back. She nearly hexed the man when he called her via the Floo from Severus' rooms, but he was so grim she didn't even question him before coming through. "Take care of him," he said.

Before leaving, he added, "you didn't see me."

Minerva called Moppy, who screamed and nearly tear her flesh out at first, thinking her master was dead. Together, they washed him to assess the damage and tried their best, but they had to call Poppy Pomfrey in the end. Minerva swore her to secrecy before she let her tend to Severus. The Matron was inclined to miff but her start and the look she gave Minerva when she noticed the Dark Mark moving proved it wasn't a useless precaution. Minerva thought wryly that some of Severus' paranoia must have rubbed off, and that it wasn't always a bad thing.

Poppy had barely left when Dumbledore Flooed in. His brief nod at Maximus Malfoy's portrait explained how he'd known to time his arrival. He seemed to have aged several decades in the hours of Severus' absence. Minerva watched him bite his lip as he looked at Severus. "Take care of him," he just said.

She thought that Severus would have appreciated the irony of Dumbledore and Malfoy agreeing on something.

In the silent vigil of this first night, as she watched for any kind of improvement, worry and grief wormed their way inside her mind. Moppy all but ordered her to rest and conjured her a cot, warning her that "the master will need Professor Cat fresh and with all her wits about her when he wakes up."

She just couldn't rest. She got up again to watch and listen to his breathing. She couldn't help sinking to her knees, the prayer words coming spontaneously to her lips.

After a time, he woke up too. When he saw her, he turned his head away and cried, until he drifted off again.

In the morning, she begged him not to return ever again before Voldemort.

"Either way, I'm dead," he said. "I can at least try to be useful."

"Don't speak like that!"

"It won't make it less true." They stayed silent during a few minutes. Snape was staring. She knew he was rehearsing something – something unpalatable, if he was taking his time.

"He's given me the benefit of doubt, but I will remain suspect for a long time, I think. I expect he will examine my mind more often and more thoroughly than he ever did before."

He drew her close to frame her face with both hands. He watched her for a long time, as if memorizing her face, she thought. She felt a shiver of dread.

"I won't be able to hide you from him on top of the rest," he said.

She understood him at once. It felt like her heart was breaking.

"Do not regret it," he sneered painfully. "I will be useless for you… And for any one else for that matter."

With a sinking feeling, Minerva asked, "did he… Did he do something to you?"

Snape barked an unpleasant laugh. "He did some things to me, yes! But not sexually, and he didn't castrate me, if that's what you want to know. I just can't afford to let him suspect I have the smallest personal interest in anyone. He doesn't take hostages, he kills them."

"I know. We're through if that's what you need, but we can still be friends," she pleaded. "Every one knows we write academia together, that we carouse every Friday evening and bet on Quidditch. I'm sure he doesn't expect you to change your routine."

"As you wish," he said, almost with indifference. Almost - but she knew him like the back of her hand.

"And you will make your best to stay alive. Do you hear me?!" she said with greater confidence. "He didn't found out the last time, why would he now?"

"You must understand he's not what he was any more. Physically," he shuddered, "he's barely human. Mentally… It doesn't even bear thinking. He warned every single one of us that he would test us... And that we would pay for not looking for him."

He seemed to reach the end of his tether. His face distorted in anguish and his hand curled painfully on her own. Soon enough – too soon, she thought – he let go and she watched that blank look of his Occluded self descend on him. He told her, "I owe it to Lily to at least try." He hesitated and added, almost timidly, "and to you too, of course."

The Floo coming green interrupted them. Dumbledore came through. He looked relieved to see Severus awake and rather well, considering. He turned to Minerva, conveying silently that he wanted her to leave. She put her hand on Snape's arm and looked defiantly at Dumbledore. "Not this time," she said.

The Headmaster smiled sadly. "As you wish, but are you sure you don't prefer to ignore the details?"

She levelled her chin even higher.

Soon enough, it was wobbling, but she bit the inside of her cheek and didn't make a sound through the horrid, painful tale.

Dumbledore listened carefully as Snape spoke, only interrupting a few times to precise a point. As usual when he needed time to think or assess a situation, he opened his sweet box, offered them to no avail to Snape and McGonagall, then took his time to choose one and begin to chew on it. "You have to preserve your cover," he said regretfully. "You know it."

"I will do what I must," Snape sneered. "Never fear."

"What I wish or what I fear is irrelevant. We need you in the serpent's nest. I would trust no one else."

"As if you have the choice."

"You offered to draw Lucius in the Order often enough."

"It's too late," snapped the spy. "Or maybe too early… To make that move. We'll both be under intense scrutiny to assess our loyalty." He exhaled deeply. "At least, Lucius is partially safe through his marriage vows."

They all knew what he was speaking about. Rape, with torture and murder had always been one of the Death Eaters' deliberate strategies of terror. Lucius couldn't be asked to rape or even to seduce anyone because of the medieval fidelity clause he'd cunningly added to his marriage ceremony. There was nothing to protect Severus now that he couldn't count on Voldemort's indulgence any more.

Minerva's haunted look betrayed her fear and disgust.

Snape called Moppy and asked for a certain vial from his personal stock. The elf complied but cast a resentful look at the Headmaster while Snape considered the vial in his hand with revulsion. Then, he opened it and swallowed the content with obvious distaste.

He finally looked at Minerva, rather oddly, until a look of resignation appeared on his face.

"There. It's done."

"What?" she asked, looking from Snape to Dumbledore.

Snape answered, totally matter-of-fact. "Chemical castration. It's undetectable without blood and urine tests." As she gasped, he sneered, "Well, I must be more optimistic than I thought, because I couldn't bring myself to choose the definitive solution."

He turned to Dumbledore again, but she knew he spoke as much to her as to the old wizard."You know I will still have to kill and torture. He will make a point to test me. I expect to be called no later than tomorrow."

"I know you will do what you must. I trust you not to be cruel."

Dumbledore left. Snape sat without a move or a blink for several minutes. He finally looked up at Minerva who hadn't moved. She knew he was going to say something harsh and horrible to make her leave.

She moved quickly, throwing herself at him and hugging him. "Don't you dare!" she said. "Don't you dare say I must leave."

He didn't answer. He was trying, and failing again, not to cry – but he hugged her back.

§§§

She still spent the night, on Fridays, and he even pleasured her orally a few times, although it happened less and less often. He said that her pleasure was all he had left, but she was feeling like she was using him and it naturally came to a stop.

She found another way. She transformed into her cat Animagus and slept like that, tucked against him. He complained she shed everywhere, but she also noticed he seldom touched the Sleep draughts when she stayed in the dungeon. She came more often, almost as often as they used to share the night… Before.

She learned to avoid the nights he was summoned though. Even as a cat, he refused that she witness his less than glorious returns, the despair etched in deep wrinkles on his face with disgust or pain – or both – but she knew, of course. Even he couldn't detect a well hidden cat in the darkness.

After a time, she stopped being surprised that he carried out his duties the next day as if nothing happened.

§§§

1996

She was still stiff from the Stunners, but the Hispanic sun and heat had helped. They'd gone on summer holiday as usual – as a statement that life went on, even with the war.

He waited for their return to tell her.

"DADA? Are you mad?!"

"I assure you, I have all my mental faculties. You have to ask Albus if you want precisions. He needs Slughorn at Hogwarts this year."

"But... DADA!"

"Rumour has it I always wanted the position. I told so myself to Dolores Umbridge not so long ago."

"Don't take me for an idiot. Why would you take the risk to be harmed or ousted from the school..." Her voice trailed as she realised the full implication of what she was saying and turned rather hysterical. "...Unless you expect to leave it before the end of the year!"

He sighed. "You know I can't tell you."

"And I don't think I want to know."

She read the words he didn't say on his face, in the way he closed his eyes. No, you don't want to know.

She hugged him, impulsively as always, and he let her.

"What's to become of us?" she said.

It was not a question. He swallowed thickly and stayed silent. She hugged him even more tightly.

My poor, poor boy, she thought.

§§§

May 1997.

The full moon and the first real warmth of spring brought loads of moths and provoked her to playfulness. After catching a bellyful of them, she coursed Crookshanks, the half-kneazle, in the corridor, both rather short of breath when they arrived in the Dungeons, a little earlier than usual.

As she passed Severus' wards, she heard the sound of crashing in the bathroom. She made her way towards the door, signalling her arrival by a loud mew.

He shouted, "don't enter or you'll cut your paws on glass." He was already cleaning, but the glimpse she got was not of an accidentally broken vial or two but rather the consequence of one of his most explosive tantrums.

He had fits of anger more and more frequently now, and refused to answer her worried questions. He seemed to have aged ten years in a few months time – since Dumbledore had injured his hand in fact.

Of course, the Headmaster had made light of the injury, but Severus' worry about it was enough to make her realise things were much worse than she could fathom. She knew they were all dancing on the edge of a volcano, and she needed the comfort of his presence as much as he needed hers.

Severus didn't say much, but petted her far longer than usual, keeping her in his lap for as long as she tolerated it. The following night too.

The next after that, Filius Flitwick came pounding on his door that Death Eaters were attacking the school and she had to run away to fight without their exchanging even a look.

She watched from afar, with relief, as he deep breathed and resolutely crossed the Death Eater wards on the Astronomy Tower.

Five minutes later, Dumbledore was dead.

§§§

August 25, 1997

She had no tears left. Only anger. She would feed on it in the coming months and she would protect the students, even if she'd been stripped of all executive power. She swore it to herself.

The pair of almost grotesque individuals – one male, one female – in brand new teaching robes carried themselves with the self-importance and pomposity of people who suffer from a pronounced inferiority complex. Even if they weren't high ranking Death Eaters, the Carrow twins would be dangerous, totally unsuited persons to be put in charge of children.

She heard the decided stomp she remembered too well, the one he used when he wanted to impress. The sound increased and neared and she watched every one of her colleagues tense and more or less wince as the black figure entered – even the Carrows.

"Alecto, Amycus, I see you have already made yourselves at home," the familiar voice drawled.

She braced herself to look up and couldn't refrain a most unwelcome thought. Oh! Lord! He's so thin!

She schooled her features to neutrality, praying it wouldn't be too long before she could escape, transform and go kill something.

He was at his most chilly when he saluted her."Professor McGonagall."

He showed nothing. Nothing. The bastard.

She'd always known they wouldn't last. She'd accepted that the intimate part of their relationship had to stop with the war, but she never expected that they would end on opposite sides and that his face would become the face of her worst enemy.

One way or another, he was going to pay.

She cried herself to sleep.

The End.

A page is turned and nothing will ever be the same for any of them.

I felt rather emotional writing this last chapter, and I still feel like that re-reading it, so I won't leave you too long on that final point. I'll begin to publish Unforgiven Pride, the next part of the story, tomorrow instead of next week. The whole story is very nearly completed, it just takes me an awfully long time to edit.

As usual, if you spot any mistake, please send me a PM.

Thanks for your interest.