(Author's Note: Please forgive my lapse in writing; I just received some very happy news and have been kept quite busy by that. But I will make an effort to post on a regular basis. Thanks to my followers and reviewers; you feed the muse! Now, as some compensation for making you wait, here's a long chapter!)

Chapter 12

When Severus came to, there was a warm, vibrating weight on his chest. Disgruntled, he looked down to see a dainty silver tabby she-cat curled up and purring away with contentment. She had also apparently cast a Warming Charm around the both of them, because although the ground was dusted with snow, he felt comfortably toasty. Pushing aside the instinct to thank her, the surly ex-Potions Master scowled. "Minerva, get off me."

At his sleep-rusted croak of disapproval, the Animagus witch-cat lifted her head and examined him placidly with a slitted pair of green eyes before ever so lazily rising, stretching, and stepping down onto the asphalt. Her sleek head swiveled around to check that no one was walking outside before Transfiguring back into her human form, casually brushing dirt from a sleeve as Severus slowly got up. "How long have I been out?" he asked, squinting up at the cloudless blue sky framed by buildings.

"A solid ten hours, I should think," she replied. "The Draught of Peace did its job quite well."

Snape raked long fingers through his tangled, oily hair and glared daggers at her, "You drugged me," he snapped accusingly.

"Not true. You collapsed from physical fatigue and magic power wane; I simply aided your rest," Minerva defended herself, holding up the empty bottle. "And by the looks of it, it worked—you look much better now...although you could still use a good shower and a clean set of clothes," she added with a pointed sniff. "How do you feel?"

"Well enough, and that's all that matters," grunted Severus. He lifted his eyes to the sky once more, and the unsettled twitch of his lips told McGonagall that he was worried. "Come on," he ordered gruffly, "we've lost a lot of precious time here. Let's get moving."

"To where?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me," said Minerva, "because I have only ten days left to get you back to Hogwarts."

Snape gave an irritated growling sigh. "I've told you already, I'm not going back there."

The Scottish witch ground her teeth. "So you're telling me that all the time and pains I took to get approved leave and journey out here to find you has been for nothing?"

His emotionless black eyes fixed ahead, Severus responded, "Yes."

"Merlin's bloody feckin' beard!" Minerva exploded, throwing her hands into the air. "Severus Tobias Snape, you are the most insolent, thickheaded man I have ever met! You are so damned stubborn and unmovable you'd put a brick wall to shame! Even my husband was never as curmudgeonly as you—hell, even Filch isn't as curmudgeonly as you!"

Snape blinked and Minerva swore she thought she saw a tiny smirk playing around his mouth. "Do I get another award?" he asked, deadpan. "Maybe an Order of Surliness, First Class."

"It's amusing that you think you're funny," seethed Minerva, flushed with fury.

"And it's amusing that I am the only person able to break Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's iron walls of austerity," Snape drawled. "You are so famous for your precise and orderly leadership, and yet here you are, screeching at me like a cat with a pulled tail."

"I AM NOT-!"

"Point proven."

Those two words drove Minerva past the point of yelling and into a silent cataclysm of rage. Both her face and her knuckles turned white as she wrapped her fingers around her wand and prepared to hex him into next week. But Severus was faster; he always was. Within a heartbeat the thirteen-inch ebony wand was in his hand and aimed for her heart. "I would advise against that, Minerva," he said softly. "The result would be nothing but taxing on our strength and useless to our mission."

Although she heard the sense in his words, her stubborn pride won out. "Then come back to school with me," she said defiantly, her wand hand never wavering.

Irritation simmered in the depths of Snape's eyes. "No."

"If you're going to be so adverse to the idea, then at least tell me why!"

"I already told you, I don't want to go back! Not ever!"

"You said something about the Death Eaters being led back," Minerva recalled. "Why is it so much more complicated than it seems?"

Staring fiercely into Severus's eyes as she was, Minerva then saw a spark of what looked like uncertainty. "Lower your wand first, and I'll tell you," he rumbled.

Minerva knew well and truly that he would never willingly attack an unarmed opponent, especially if that opponent was a coworker; even their little duel during the previous year had been only for show on his part. So she dropped her arm and tucked her wand away, up her sleeve where it was snug against her wrist and easily reachable. Snape watched carefully, and then returned his wand to his own sleeve as well.

"Quite frankly, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," he told her. "But anyhow, the reason why I could not return to Hogwarts even if I wanted to—which I do not—is in the Headmaster's Book."

Minerva bit her lip. The Headmaster's Book was a massive tome, by far the oldest in the castle, written by the Four Founders themselves as a sort of instruction guide for the future generations of Headmasters or -mistresses of Hogwarts. There were laws there, too; rules and guidelines dictating how the castle should be run and the students led. These written laws were bound by incredibly ancient and powerful magic which no one had ever attempted to tamper with, and as far as anyone knew it was unchangeable.

"What does it say that prevents you from coming back?" she asked Snape.

"There is a law—titled the Law of Cowardice—which states that any Head of Hogwarts who abandons their post during the school season without permission and fails to return after forty-eight hours is magically excommunicated from the castle and grounds for the rest of their life." His black eyes fell to his shoes before he added, "Should I attempt to return, the full force of the castle's magical defenses would come down on my head."

Oh.

Minerva folded her arms and tried to think. "If I gave you permission to re-enter, would that suffice?"

Snape shook his head, "No word even by the Deputy Head can alter it. The castle would not heed your commands because it recognizes me as a coward."

"But you aren't!" McGonagall protested heatedly.

"Try telling the castle that," snapped Severus.

Minerva massaged her forehead. "There has to be some sort of loophole," she mumbled despairingly.

"If there was a loophole, someone would have found it already," said Snape. "The Founders were brilliant spellcasters, though, and checked their own work very thoroughly."

"I know that," grumbled Minerva. "I spent seven years is Professor Binns' room hearing about it."

"Yes, well, I just wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten; most things Binns says tend to float into one ear and out the other." The Scotswoman's expression following this comment caused a genuine smile to crawl across Snape's narrow face, "Damn, Minerva, I think you've been staring at me from across the Staff Table for too long…you've nearly perfected that sneer."

"Nearly? What was off with it?" she retorted teasingly.

Severus scrutinized her for a few moments longer before responding, "You just look too matronly for it" and turning to sweep away.

"What?! What do you mean, matronly?" Minerva demanded, charging after him. "If you're implying that I'm some old woman incapable of feeling, you're quite mistaken!"

Snape turned his head to fix her with a playful lopsided smirk. "I would beg to differ," he said, "but we still haven't got all day to stand around and poke fun. I have an idea which would allow us to stay in touch with each other even if we were separated, just in case the Death Eaters find us again."

"And what is that?" Minerva asked, naturally shifting back into Headmistress-of-business mode.

"A telepathic link."

"Clever," she nodded. "That's a complex wandless spell, though; are you sure you can muster the strength to do it?"

Dark eyes found hers. "I'll need your help." He extended his hands, palms upwards and fingers spread.

"You have it," Minerva responded immediately, clasping her hands with his and interlacing their fingers. Closing her eyes, she began chanting softly along with the ex-Potions Master, forming words which would broaden the boundaries of her mental awareness. The tingling hum of power through her veins swelled in time to the cadence of the incantation, and within her mind Minerva felt an insistent nudging; Severus was trying to breach her thoughts. Though every defensive instinct she had screamed at her not to do it, she consciously let her mental barriers down and allowed Snape to slip in.

Forming a mental link with another spellcaster was considered an incredibly intimate act of trust, almost as special as two newlyweds consummating their marriage. Minerva stiffened as Severus crossed the threshold of her mentality, but once he squeezed her hands gently she relaxed and allowed him room to expand their bond. He briefly touched a few of her most vivid memories, some happy snippets from a sun-drenched childhood in the hill country of Scotland and a couple from her marriage and teaching career, but he kept away from the darker corners of her mind and did not venture any pressure towards the barriers she had put around her more personal times.

Even as Snape sifted through her mind, Minerva reciprocated. No sooner had she breached his mind there came a bitter taste on her tongue and all at once she was overcome with a sensation of overpowering depression. Bewildered, she delved into the open spaces of his consciousness and was thrown headfirst into a torrent of black emotion.

Fear as Tobias Snape hurled a bottle against the wall close by young Severus's head. Embarrassment as James Potter hung him upside down in midair and stripped him naked for the entire school to see. Helplessness as Lily Evans walked away from him, and the sinking realization that he had just destroyed his only friendship with one thoughtless word. Fury as Albus Dumbledore revealed the details of his manipulating master plan and bullied Severus into complying with it.

Gasping, Minerva yanked away from Severus's cold touch as her vision became clear once more. "I…what?!...Severus…!"

A grim smile pulled Severus's thin lips upward. "Welcome to my life," he gritted lowly, and even as he mentally retreated she still felt the brush of his darkened senses upon hers. The melding of their minds had been successful.

"You never…I never knew…"

"You never knew what I never intended to show you," finished Snape as he turned aside. "But now it's over, and there will be no further discussion of it. Now let's move before the Death Eaters get any ideas."

Hastening after Snape, Minerva reeled in the newfound revelation. She struggled to overcome the lingering sadness which his memories had imprinted upon her thoughts. But the thing that bothered her most of all was that Snape's words rang true—she had looked over all of that as a teacher. How such horrific bullying had been glazed over was…unthinkable. Retreating back into her own memory, she drew up recollections of a young Slytherin with stringy black hair and sallow skin staggering into the Hospital Wing multiple times each week, and her only thoughts had been that "Oh, that Snape boy is such a klutz…"

Stop.

The voice was deep and commanding; it was Snape's voice…inside her head. Through their new link he had been able to sense her train of thoughts. Instantly there was a rush of fear and guilt, and she ducked her head. "Sorry," she said out loud.

He didn't respond. Watching his slender frame sauntering ahead, McGonagall was oddly struck by the air of mystery he held even when dressed in plain Muggle clothes, dirty, exhausted, and having bared his entire mind to her inspection. Was it the upright way he carried himself or the cool glitter in his black eyes? Perhaps it was the whiplike sarcasm and impressive intelligence.

Whatever it was, Minerva enjoyed having it around. Perhaps eventually he would see common sense and let her help him. Whoever made up the opinion that only Gryffindors are stubborn was an utter fool, the witch mulled.

Treading lightly a few paces ahead, Severus's eyes flashed with amusement as her thought rang clearly in his own ears. Perhaps you have met your match in me,he replied.

Perhaps, but between the both of us, I will always have better fashion sense, she snipped.