Chapter 21 – The Nameless Chapter

Minerva didn't go straight to the infirmary after leaving the Gryffindor tower. After all, how was she to know that Severus would still be there after all the time that had passed since the "incident" itself?

After waiting for what seemed like an interminable time outside the door of his quarters, she finally left and decided to go and talk to Poppy to see if she had any light to shed on the situation. By this point, she had missed dinner, so she stopped by the kitchens for a quick bite, which she was sure Poppy would appreciate, given her much improved mood afterwards.

As she walked, she thought back fondly to the days where she could easily just pop in to Albus's office for a real chat, where he actually offered real advice that generally made some sort of sense. That had been back before the deaths of Lily and James Potter though; a memory that caused her pain still to this day.

True, James had been a bit wild in his school years, but Lily had settled him down quickly. As Lily had told her in private, she aimed to make a man out of the boy, so to speak, and was determined that by hook or by crook, she would succeed in her ploy.

And truly, the last time that she had seen them, shortly before they had gone into hiding, James had seem much the changed man. He had been gracious, polite, courteous; Minerva had even asked Lily for the recipe when James had stepped out of the room to retrieve something for her. Lily had laughed at her request, before shaking her head and explaining that James was just like any other project she had worked on in school. She saw the problem and had thrown her all into the business of making things work.

Minerva had still been impressed nonetheless. She had told her quite frankly that she had been afraid things would end badly between the two of them sooner, rather than later.

Lily, for her part, hadn't looked surprised to hear that; in fact, she confided in her old professor that several of her friends had actually said much the same thing before the wedding itself, as though they thought they had a chance against overpowering the desires of Lily Evans.

Minerva hastily wiped a tear away upon reaching the door of the infirmary. It had continued to anger her that Harry had missed out on so much from the cruelties of Voldemort.

And Albus, he had been something else altogether. It was as though he had taken their deaths—their murders—as a personal affront to his own self-image. He hadn't been the same since, and as of late, the man who had been Albus Dumbledore had largely seemed to disappear from her world. As if the losses they had sustained hadn't been traumatic enough, now she was forced to watch one of her oldest, dearest friends, just drift away like a boat lost at sea.

She didn't bother to wipe her face too strenuously before seeking out Poppy. Poppy had always been able to determine how she was doing, no matter what her attempts at subterfuge. It was one of the most annoying and endearing qualities about the woman.

…

Late in the evening, Poppy saw Minerva come in to the infirmary looking harried and more than a little distressed. She watched as she looked around for someone, before finally looking directly at her with an unusually steely gaze.

There was no doubt in Poppy's mind that the issue had hand had something to do with Mr. Potter's presence here, but she doubted that was all there was to it. She knew from personal experience that Minerva's mind was capable of focusing on many issues at the same time, usually all dour and unpleasant.

"Have you seen Severus, Poppy?" The other woman asked her with an exasperated look on her face.

"You mean, recently?" Poppy asked sweetly.

"I must talk with him at once," Minerva said in a commanding voice.

"I'm sorry, but that's quite impossible," Poppy said, crossing her arms sternly, before looking carefully into the other woman's harried eyes. She was quite positive that something had driven the woman to tears, but she was not quite yet willing to find out what.

"Poppy!" Minerva said, her frustration bubbling over at her request being denied.

"He is rather indisposed," Poppy said, hoping that her explanation would be enough for Minerva to leave and then come back later, perhaps after a full night's sleep, if she was lucky.

"I suppose you have some knowledge of what happened earlier this afternoon in regards to Mr. Potter, yes?" She inquired haughtily to her old friend.

Poppy saw her eyes flit once over to where Longbottom lay, thick in the midst of the dreamless sleep she had administered him earlier.

"Poor dear," Poppy said, frowning in genuine sympathy over the state of the boy who was once again in her care.

"As his head of house, I should have been informed immediately about the situation at hand!" Minerva said, raising her voice a fraction of a decibel level.

"Hush dear," Poppy said needlessly, given the magically induced sleeping arrangements all of her patients were currently under. But then again, there was that lovely guilt tactic she was frequently forced to employ against some of her more frisky visitors.

Minerva raised an eyebrow, but when she next spoke, her voice was indeed at a more manageable level.

"Fine. Now answer the question."

"The Weasley twins informed me that they had explained the basics to you; plus, upon his arrival here, Mr. Potter was," she thought for a good word, "rather difficult to proceed with, given his high level of hysteria following the most extraordinary event that transpired around him."

There, that was almost acceptable.

Minerva was pursing her lips irritably at her.

Poppy raised an eyebrow of her own in challenge.

"Oh fine," Minerva said, raising her hands in helpless defeat. "May I at least see Mr. Potter?"

Poppy felt the sudden hysterical urge to make her say "please" before giving in, but thankfully managed to stifle it quickly.

"Certainly," she said amicably. "Please follow me." She said, walking delicately towards the back curtained off corner of the room.

…

Minerva knew that Poppy would see her sudden arrival in the infirmary as nothing short of an all out invasion of her space. Poppy was always ten times more difficult to deal with when one of her regulars was injured in anything other than the typical manner.

She knew that Severus was one of those regulars, or favorites as it translated to in Poppy's vocabulary. Upon returning to school every year, following the summer holidays, he had been forced to spend a few hours every day under her fastidious care for the first week or so of term, in order to fully recover from the traumas he had endured while at "home."

She had never told him that she had fully supported his petition to remain at Hogwarts during that wretched part of the year. Albus had always had his little quirks, or insecurities, as she privately thought of them as, and that was of them. He simply could not be made to see reason, even in the face of overwhelming evidence against him.

Therefore, the sight that met her as she turned the corner past the privacy curtains did not really faze her, all considering. She wasn't quite sure when the change had occurred between Severus and Mr. Potter, but she had a hunch that Poppy had been involved somehow, in some sort of fashion.

Mr. Potter was lying on Severus's chest, his hand fisted securely—and perhaps covetously—in Severus's dark shirt. Severus's arms were wrapped tightly around him in what was obviously a very protective embrace by the man.

They were both asleep and frankly, she had to admit, looked completely exhausted.

All in all though, the situation was more than a bit unnerving, as well as being more than a little bizarre.

"Does Albus know any of the details surrounding—," she paused and then continued, "—this?" She said, completely her question with a wave of her hands in the general vicinity of the dark headed and inextricably wrapped pair.

"Albus has not graced me with his presence in more than a week," Poppy said, grinning a naughty smile, reminding Minerva inexorably of the Cheshire Cat.

"You mean that you haven't lifted the curse charm yet?" She asked, somewhat amazed, yet not all that surprised.

Poppy looked at her with wide innocent eyes, but the smile was still the same.

"Of course not," Minerva said, speaking the answer for her. "How long does it take to wear off, may I ask?"

"Oh, about two and a half hours," Poppy said casually, fixing the blankets around the two patients.

"Have you tried removing Potter from his arms?" She asked the other woman curiously.

"I haven't tried, but if you'd like to, feel free. Although, I'm sure Longbottom could tell you what the possible consequences of touching him without his permission or knowledge might be—well, when he wakes up again, that is. Poor boy," she said, making it quite clear from the look on her face that it would be an idiotic thing to try.

"When will they awake?" She asked.

"Given both of their histories, I'd take a guess and say that they'll awake before the rooster crows tomorrow morning," she said with an audible sigh.

"Even with dreamless sleep?" Minerva asked incredulously.

"Yes," the older woman said sadly, lightly brushing some of Severus's black hair out of his face with her fingertips.

"Good night Poppy," Minerva said, turning and leaving the way she had come.

"Good night dear," Poppy said softly, before extinguishing the rest of the lights and heading to bed herself.