Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Well, I do however own a copy of 'The
Producers' if you're in the mood for a laugh. Oh, scratch that. It
belongs to my sister.
Note: Language Black!
It was probably around four in the morning when Black, with only his nose sticking out from the mound of snow that had fallen, heard the slight popping sound signaling Snape's return. Shaking off the white blanket of snow, he looked up just in time to see Snape waver unsteadily on his feet and crumple to the ground.
Black stared for a second, expecting Snape to stand up. But he didn't move. This was an unexpected complication. But it wasn't going to stop him from accomplishing his goal. Snape was dangerous; he'd have to proceed carefully if he wanted to succeed in killing the bastard.
Slinking closer, Black cautiously approached the still figure. Snape moved a little, making Black jump back, his dark fur on end, every muscle tense and alert. But Snape only pulled his legs closer to his body, curling into a fetal position.
Now Black could smell the blood on him. And he doubted that all of it belonged to Snape. Black leaned closer and noticed that an area of snow around Snape had turned an icy pink and seemed to be darkening steadily.
Now was his chance. And, he reflected, it wouldn't even be difficult. Snape wasn't in any condition to put up a fight. All he needed to do was move in, tear the Slytherin's throat out, then stand back and let him bleed to death.
Black stepped closer, baring his long white teeth, and stopped. This wasn't how he had envisioned killing Snape. It was supposed to be different; a sort of good verses evil thing. He would call on his Auror training, Snape would use what he learned as a Death Eater, and they would duke it out.
This wasn't that heroic battle that he had envisioned. Here Snape was completely helpless. Black admitted to himself that he wasn't even sure if Snape was conscious.
But that wasn't going to stop him. Though, maybe it would be easier to just end this with the Killing Curse. Not as messy.
Black transformed back and removed his new wand from its place up his sleeve. 'All right.'
Three minutes later he was still there, wand out and held over the bleeding Slytherin.
'As soon as you do this,' a nasty little voice in his head reminded him, 'You will be a murderer.' Black shuddered involuntarily. That word was the bane of his existence. Even when he had been an Auror, he had never taken a life.
And for so long he had longed to tell the Wizarding World that Peter, Wormtail, was the true traitor and so murderer of the Potters. He was still waiting for the day everyone would know he was innocent. Now the title would truly belong to him.
"It's just Snape," Black said aloud, his voice barely louder then rustling leaves, "It's not like anyone will miss him." Well, that wasn't completely true. Dumbledore was foolishly fond of him. And McGonagall didn't see to mind him. Filch and his damn cat were down right friendly towards him. Hagrid didn't like to speak poorly of him. And even Madams Pomfrey and Pince were okay with having him around. Not to mention the entire Slytherin House.
"He's a Slytherin!" Black shouted, surprising himself with the hatred he felt, almost overwhelming in its power. "He's just a bloody, fucking Slytherin!"
Snape jerked sharply, as if sensing danger, and opened his eyes a little, not really seeing the person kneeling over him.
"I have to do it," Black hissed with conviction, "For Harry." But then, Harry already felt guilty about Cedric's death. The boy wouldn't want anyone else dead because of him. No, not even Snape.
Black sighed and sat back on his heals, pondering what to do and what was holding him back when he heard a long howl answered by a higher hitched individual and then a chorus of others. Wolves. Real wolves too, not werewolves.
Black looked down at Snape and transformed back into his dog form. Providence! He wouldn't have to do anything; the creatures of the forest would do his job for him.
The melody of howls came closer and Black edged away from Snape so not to seem a challenge to the wolves. They were getting closer. A husky bark came from just around a group of trees. Wait, bark?
Fang dashed forward and sniffed the fallen professor. Then he lifted his massive head, twisted it back to the trees he had just emerged from, and barked again.
"Professor Snape?" Black ducked behind a gnarled tree and watched as Hagrid came into view and hurried to Snape's side. Hagrid quickly checked Snape's pulse, getting blood on his hands in the process.
"Not good," Black heard Hagrid mutter to himself. Then Black watched his chance to get rid of Snape once and for all slip away as Hagrid picked Snape up off the ground with surprising gentleness for someone his size and carry him back towards Hogwarts.
Black looked at the red stain left on the snow and then at the retreating figures. And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled at the loss of a meal
Hagrid didn't have any medical experiences aside from fixing up his interesting creatures, but he knew that Snape was in bad shape. Aside from the fact that the professor was bleeding steadily, the fact that he couldn't walk himself back to Hogwarts was a bad sign. Hagrid had only had to carry him back from one of his 'meetings' once before; the night You- Know-Who had been reborn.
To be honest, when he had seen Snape laying in the snow, completely still and looking like all the blood in his body had been drained, he hadn't been sure that the professor was alive. He couldn't imagine having to go back to Hogwarts with the news that Snape was dead. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to take it.
The orb around Fang's neck had stopped glowing now that Snape was in his possession. That had been Dumbledore's idea. When Snape left Hogwarts the orb would glow red. When it changed green, it meant that he had returned and it was Hagrid's job to go see if he needed any assistance getting back.
Most of the time when Hagrid brought him back, Snape was silent, completely drawn into his thoughts. It was rare that he came back in the condition he left. His injuries varied, but he always insisted on walking back to Hogwarts on his own.
Hagrid wasn't stupid. Dumbledore had trusted him with what Snape was doing. As far as he knew, aside from himself, only Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall knew that Snape was a spy for Dumbledore. And if Dumbledore trusted Snape, that was enough for him.
Speaking of Dumbledore and the nurse...
"Go Fang." The dog took off running toward the castle. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey would see the dog and know that Snape was coming in. Sure enough, as Hagrid entered the Main Hall with Snape, the two people hurried over to check the injured man.
Pomfrey's face was grim as she took a magical reading of Snape's injuries. Dumbledore stood out of her way so not to disrupt her work, but he did reach out to clasp Snape's hand. Whether the gesture was to reassure Snape or himself, Hagrid couldn't say.
"His hands are so cold," Dumbledore said, the concern evident in his voice. Snape moved a little at the sound of his voice, turning ever so slightly towards him.
"Found him in the snow," Hagrid explained, "And he's bleeding." Pomfrey shook her head, not liking what she was finding. Not that anything seemed immediately life threatening, but Snape had to be hurting.
"Let's get him downstairs," she said, picking up her bag of healing potions. Dumbledore nodded and wordlessly led the way down to Snape's quarters. Taking him to the Hospital wing was out of question. Other then the fact that Snape didn't like it there, having visited it too often in his relatively short life, it was important for the students to think that the Potions Master was only ill.
Dumbledore unlocked the door with a wave of his wand and stepped back to allow Hagrid in with Snape. Pomfrey hurried after them. Moving quickly into Snape's bedroom, Hagrid placed the professor down on the bed.
Together, Dumbledore and Pomfrey succeeded in stripping him down to his underwear, Dumbledore paling at the sight of the profusely bleeding wounds on the fair skin. Pomfrey hardly batted an eye as she handed Hagrid a cloth and told him to try to stanch the worst bleeder.
Unable to help in any other way, Dumbledore sat on the edge of the bed, holding Snape's hand and stroking the snow dampened hair with the other while Pomfrey turned her attention to the contents of her bag.
"His external wounds first," she announced opening a bottle and retrieving a paintbrush-like instrument. The mixture would result in instant healing. It was also good on burns.
"Not that one," Dumbledore said, startling her. She looked at him, confused.
"It heals the fastest," Pomfrey tried to reason. Dumbledore shook his head. Pomfrey looked cross and was about to demand an explanation when he offered one.
"It stings upon application. If you have something else, I would like to try to spare him any more pain then necessary." Pomfrey's face softened and she chose another potion. She should have thought of that. Dumbledore was protective of Snape. She needed to remember that when working with him.
"This doesn't heal instantly," she explained as she painted the light green potion over the bleeding and clotting injuries, "But it will stop the bleeding and aid in the closing." It took a while but she eventually got to all of then. Then she proceeded to pull a dark gray nightshirt over Snape's head, wrap him in a blanket and, after having Dumbledore sit back against the headboard, arrange the hurt wizard in his arms.
Snape opened his eyes a little and blinked in confusion. Pomfrey nodded to him and, having Hagrid hand her the potions she asked for, she managed to get Snape to swallow several spoonfuls of a large selection.
"This will heal those external wounds from the inside out. Slower," she at Dumbledore as Snape swallowed, "But it won't cause him any discomfort." Dumbledore nodded his approval and pulled Snape a little closer.
"This will take care of the internal bleeding. This is for any broken or cracked bones. Soft tissue damage. Helps relieve any lingering side effects from curses. For the chill so that he doesn't catch anything." Snape was now fully awake and dutifully taking the potions that the matron urged into his mouth. His dark eyes were dull and lacked any light or focus.
"And that should do it," Pomfrey announced, putting the spoon down. "Now he just needs to rest and take it easy for the next few days." Dumbledore smiled and pulled the blanket more fully around Snape.
"Thank you for bringing him back, Hagrid," he said softly. Hagrid smiled through his bushy beard. The job of fetching Snape was one that often kept him up late, but he would do anything for the Headmaster.
"No problem sir." Dumbledore watched Hagrid leave, the door closing behind him. Pomfrey was cleaning up her potions while Snape.Dumbledore looked down at Snape who sighed miserably and blinked, so very tired but resisting the call to sleep.
"Poppy," Dumbledore said, trying not to disturb Snape, "Do you have anything that could help him sleep tonight." Pomfrey took one look at Snape and nodded.
Taking out a goblet, she added a little water to a powered potion. A quick stir and she ladled a little into Snape's mouth. Snape gave a soft, shuddering sigh, and his head dropped against Dumbledore's chest, in a deep sleep. Pomfrey smiled a bit evilly.
"Strong enough to knock out a centaur," she remarked as she magicked away the remainder of the mixture. An amused smile found its way to Dumbledore's face. Leave it to the nurse to have a mischievous streak.
"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said again, "There are not many people who would be as helpful to him." Pomfrey smiled a little and closed her bag.
"If I recall, Albus, willingness to help anyone under any circumstance was part of the contract when I came to work here. I have helped a young werewolf after his transformations, I have healed countless Qudditch injuries, cured those nasty little sniffles that spread through the houses, and fixed up students from hexes they gave each other or, in cases, themselves. Just add Severus to my list." Dumbledore smiled, a bit sadly.
"Remus was your favorite." Pomfrey blushed at being caught. How had he figured that out? As a nurse she didn't really have a need to play favorites, but Remus had been special.
"I guess he was," she admitted, putting her bag on the light stand and taking a seat on the bed. "I felt that he especially was my responsibility. I would often talk with him when he was in the hospital wing. I watched him grow up. Move from a shy little boy to a confident young man. It was one of the more rewarding things I have done in my life." Dumbledore nodded in understanding.
"The thing some teachers forget though," he said, almost regretfully rather then conversationally, "Is that we are watching all our charges grow up. Not just the ones that call our attention. Not just the bright, outgoing, humorous, and kind. We are also watching the cold, aloof, awkward, scared, lonely, and dangerously brilliant." Pomfrey noticed how his eyes dropped as he talked and she felt a bit guilty.
"Like Severus," she said. Dumbledore shrugged, though she knew that was exactly who he had been talking about.
"Like many of the children who go through Hogwarts," he replied. Pomfrey declined to say anything else, what could she say? There was nothing to be said. She picked up her bag and wished Dumbledore a pleasant night.
Dumbledore watched the nurse leave. In his arms, Snape moved a little, trying to get comfortable.
"It's alright, Severus," he whispered before placing a gentle kiss against his son's dark hair, "I'm here." Snape stilled and sighed, causing Dumbledore to smile ruefully.
Turning a little he retrieved his wand. A quick wave and a drawer opened and the chain Snape had hidden away earlier that night was summoned to his hand. Placing it back around Snape's neck where it rightfully belonged, he settled down to watch over his son for the night.
***
Minerva McGonagall reached the door to Snape's quarters and let herself in. She was not in the best of moods. From what she could understand of the House Elf's babbling, the Headmaster had stayed the night with Snape after he came back from his 'meeting.' It was a sweet thing to do, she had to grudgingly admit, but it was not wise for Dumbledore to get so attached to Snape.
Knocking on the bedroom door, she heard Dumbledore call her in. Snape, she saw, was sleeping under several blankets piled on his bed to keep him warm. Dumbledore was sitting in the chair next to the bed. He must have been reading because there was a book in his hands.
"Minerva," he said quietly so not to wake Snape. "What can I do for you?"
"There are two men from the Ministry upstairs. They want to talk to you." She didn't say what about, but he seemed to know. He nodded his understanding but looked back at Snape. "I'll stay with him until you come back," McGonagall offered. Dumbledore smiled and stood.
"Am I so predictable?" McGonagall nodded with a tight smile. Predictable was an understatement.
"When it comes to Severus? Yes." Dumbledore declined to answer as he smoothed Snape's hair away from his face. He had hoped that the Ministry's representatives wouldn't come until after he had a chance to talk to Snape and find out what had happened. But that couldn't be helped now.
"Try to keep him calm," he said to the Transfiguration Professor, "If he wakes up get him to drink a little water or weak tea. We'll see how it goes from there." McGonagall watched him leave and then took his vacated seat next to Snape's bedside.
She took out a book from her sleeve and allowed herself a real smile. She had known that the only way the Headmaster would leave Snape's side was if he knew someone was watching Snape for him.
Snape sighed and turned over without waking up. McGonagall saw that his hair had fallen in his face again and she got up to move it away. She brushed the dark strands out of his face and off his neck when she stopped.
A faint sparkle had caught her eye. Reaching down, she found a practically invisible chain under the collar of the gray nightshirt. She shook her head. It couldn't possibly be.
Carefully, so not to wake Snape, she pulled the chain out from under his shirt until a tiny silver charm fell into her hand.
"Oh dear sweet Merlin!"
Author's Note: Did anyone notice that Snape is reading the same book his babysitter read the night she died? Irony is my friend.
Next: How will McGonagall react? Will she be like Black and believe that Snape is participating in an elaborate plot to gain the Headmaster's trust? Or will she find out the truth? Also, the Dream Team goes to talk to one of the teachers in search of information.
Note: Language Black!
It was probably around four in the morning when Black, with only his nose sticking out from the mound of snow that had fallen, heard the slight popping sound signaling Snape's return. Shaking off the white blanket of snow, he looked up just in time to see Snape waver unsteadily on his feet and crumple to the ground.
Black stared for a second, expecting Snape to stand up. But he didn't move. This was an unexpected complication. But it wasn't going to stop him from accomplishing his goal. Snape was dangerous; he'd have to proceed carefully if he wanted to succeed in killing the bastard.
Slinking closer, Black cautiously approached the still figure. Snape moved a little, making Black jump back, his dark fur on end, every muscle tense and alert. But Snape only pulled his legs closer to his body, curling into a fetal position.
Now Black could smell the blood on him. And he doubted that all of it belonged to Snape. Black leaned closer and noticed that an area of snow around Snape had turned an icy pink and seemed to be darkening steadily.
Now was his chance. And, he reflected, it wouldn't even be difficult. Snape wasn't in any condition to put up a fight. All he needed to do was move in, tear the Slytherin's throat out, then stand back and let him bleed to death.
Black stepped closer, baring his long white teeth, and stopped. This wasn't how he had envisioned killing Snape. It was supposed to be different; a sort of good verses evil thing. He would call on his Auror training, Snape would use what he learned as a Death Eater, and they would duke it out.
This wasn't that heroic battle that he had envisioned. Here Snape was completely helpless. Black admitted to himself that he wasn't even sure if Snape was conscious.
But that wasn't going to stop him. Though, maybe it would be easier to just end this with the Killing Curse. Not as messy.
Black transformed back and removed his new wand from its place up his sleeve. 'All right.'
Three minutes later he was still there, wand out and held over the bleeding Slytherin.
'As soon as you do this,' a nasty little voice in his head reminded him, 'You will be a murderer.' Black shuddered involuntarily. That word was the bane of his existence. Even when he had been an Auror, he had never taken a life.
And for so long he had longed to tell the Wizarding World that Peter, Wormtail, was the true traitor and so murderer of the Potters. He was still waiting for the day everyone would know he was innocent. Now the title would truly belong to him.
"It's just Snape," Black said aloud, his voice barely louder then rustling leaves, "It's not like anyone will miss him." Well, that wasn't completely true. Dumbledore was foolishly fond of him. And McGonagall didn't see to mind him. Filch and his damn cat were down right friendly towards him. Hagrid didn't like to speak poorly of him. And even Madams Pomfrey and Pince were okay with having him around. Not to mention the entire Slytherin House.
"He's a Slytherin!" Black shouted, surprising himself with the hatred he felt, almost overwhelming in its power. "He's just a bloody, fucking Slytherin!"
Snape jerked sharply, as if sensing danger, and opened his eyes a little, not really seeing the person kneeling over him.
"I have to do it," Black hissed with conviction, "For Harry." But then, Harry already felt guilty about Cedric's death. The boy wouldn't want anyone else dead because of him. No, not even Snape.
Black sighed and sat back on his heals, pondering what to do and what was holding him back when he heard a long howl answered by a higher hitched individual and then a chorus of others. Wolves. Real wolves too, not werewolves.
Black looked down at Snape and transformed back into his dog form. Providence! He wouldn't have to do anything; the creatures of the forest would do his job for him.
The melody of howls came closer and Black edged away from Snape so not to seem a challenge to the wolves. They were getting closer. A husky bark came from just around a group of trees. Wait, bark?
Fang dashed forward and sniffed the fallen professor. Then he lifted his massive head, twisted it back to the trees he had just emerged from, and barked again.
"Professor Snape?" Black ducked behind a gnarled tree and watched as Hagrid came into view and hurried to Snape's side. Hagrid quickly checked Snape's pulse, getting blood on his hands in the process.
"Not good," Black heard Hagrid mutter to himself. Then Black watched his chance to get rid of Snape once and for all slip away as Hagrid picked Snape up off the ground with surprising gentleness for someone his size and carry him back towards Hogwarts.
Black looked at the red stain left on the snow and then at the retreating figures. And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled at the loss of a meal
Hagrid didn't have any medical experiences aside from fixing up his interesting creatures, but he knew that Snape was in bad shape. Aside from the fact that the professor was bleeding steadily, the fact that he couldn't walk himself back to Hogwarts was a bad sign. Hagrid had only had to carry him back from one of his 'meetings' once before; the night You- Know-Who had been reborn.
To be honest, when he had seen Snape laying in the snow, completely still and looking like all the blood in his body had been drained, he hadn't been sure that the professor was alive. He couldn't imagine having to go back to Hogwarts with the news that Snape was dead. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to take it.
The orb around Fang's neck had stopped glowing now that Snape was in his possession. That had been Dumbledore's idea. When Snape left Hogwarts the orb would glow red. When it changed green, it meant that he had returned and it was Hagrid's job to go see if he needed any assistance getting back.
Most of the time when Hagrid brought him back, Snape was silent, completely drawn into his thoughts. It was rare that he came back in the condition he left. His injuries varied, but he always insisted on walking back to Hogwarts on his own.
Hagrid wasn't stupid. Dumbledore had trusted him with what Snape was doing. As far as he knew, aside from himself, only Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall knew that Snape was a spy for Dumbledore. And if Dumbledore trusted Snape, that was enough for him.
Speaking of Dumbledore and the nurse...
"Go Fang." The dog took off running toward the castle. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey would see the dog and know that Snape was coming in. Sure enough, as Hagrid entered the Main Hall with Snape, the two people hurried over to check the injured man.
Pomfrey's face was grim as she took a magical reading of Snape's injuries. Dumbledore stood out of her way so not to disrupt her work, but he did reach out to clasp Snape's hand. Whether the gesture was to reassure Snape or himself, Hagrid couldn't say.
"His hands are so cold," Dumbledore said, the concern evident in his voice. Snape moved a little at the sound of his voice, turning ever so slightly towards him.
"Found him in the snow," Hagrid explained, "And he's bleeding." Pomfrey shook her head, not liking what she was finding. Not that anything seemed immediately life threatening, but Snape had to be hurting.
"Let's get him downstairs," she said, picking up her bag of healing potions. Dumbledore nodded and wordlessly led the way down to Snape's quarters. Taking him to the Hospital wing was out of question. Other then the fact that Snape didn't like it there, having visited it too often in his relatively short life, it was important for the students to think that the Potions Master was only ill.
Dumbledore unlocked the door with a wave of his wand and stepped back to allow Hagrid in with Snape. Pomfrey hurried after them. Moving quickly into Snape's bedroom, Hagrid placed the professor down on the bed.
Together, Dumbledore and Pomfrey succeeded in stripping him down to his underwear, Dumbledore paling at the sight of the profusely bleeding wounds on the fair skin. Pomfrey hardly batted an eye as she handed Hagrid a cloth and told him to try to stanch the worst bleeder.
Unable to help in any other way, Dumbledore sat on the edge of the bed, holding Snape's hand and stroking the snow dampened hair with the other while Pomfrey turned her attention to the contents of her bag.
"His external wounds first," she announced opening a bottle and retrieving a paintbrush-like instrument. The mixture would result in instant healing. It was also good on burns.
"Not that one," Dumbledore said, startling her. She looked at him, confused.
"It heals the fastest," Pomfrey tried to reason. Dumbledore shook his head. Pomfrey looked cross and was about to demand an explanation when he offered one.
"It stings upon application. If you have something else, I would like to try to spare him any more pain then necessary." Pomfrey's face softened and she chose another potion. She should have thought of that. Dumbledore was protective of Snape. She needed to remember that when working with him.
"This doesn't heal instantly," she explained as she painted the light green potion over the bleeding and clotting injuries, "But it will stop the bleeding and aid in the closing." It took a while but she eventually got to all of then. Then she proceeded to pull a dark gray nightshirt over Snape's head, wrap him in a blanket and, after having Dumbledore sit back against the headboard, arrange the hurt wizard in his arms.
Snape opened his eyes a little and blinked in confusion. Pomfrey nodded to him and, having Hagrid hand her the potions she asked for, she managed to get Snape to swallow several spoonfuls of a large selection.
"This will heal those external wounds from the inside out. Slower," she at Dumbledore as Snape swallowed, "But it won't cause him any discomfort." Dumbledore nodded his approval and pulled Snape a little closer.
"This will take care of the internal bleeding. This is for any broken or cracked bones. Soft tissue damage. Helps relieve any lingering side effects from curses. For the chill so that he doesn't catch anything." Snape was now fully awake and dutifully taking the potions that the matron urged into his mouth. His dark eyes were dull and lacked any light or focus.
"And that should do it," Pomfrey announced, putting the spoon down. "Now he just needs to rest and take it easy for the next few days." Dumbledore smiled and pulled the blanket more fully around Snape.
"Thank you for bringing him back, Hagrid," he said softly. Hagrid smiled through his bushy beard. The job of fetching Snape was one that often kept him up late, but he would do anything for the Headmaster.
"No problem sir." Dumbledore watched Hagrid leave, the door closing behind him. Pomfrey was cleaning up her potions while Snape.Dumbledore looked down at Snape who sighed miserably and blinked, so very tired but resisting the call to sleep.
"Poppy," Dumbledore said, trying not to disturb Snape, "Do you have anything that could help him sleep tonight." Pomfrey took one look at Snape and nodded.
Taking out a goblet, she added a little water to a powered potion. A quick stir and she ladled a little into Snape's mouth. Snape gave a soft, shuddering sigh, and his head dropped against Dumbledore's chest, in a deep sleep. Pomfrey smiled a bit evilly.
"Strong enough to knock out a centaur," she remarked as she magicked away the remainder of the mixture. An amused smile found its way to Dumbledore's face. Leave it to the nurse to have a mischievous streak.
"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said again, "There are not many people who would be as helpful to him." Pomfrey smiled a little and closed her bag.
"If I recall, Albus, willingness to help anyone under any circumstance was part of the contract when I came to work here. I have helped a young werewolf after his transformations, I have healed countless Qudditch injuries, cured those nasty little sniffles that spread through the houses, and fixed up students from hexes they gave each other or, in cases, themselves. Just add Severus to my list." Dumbledore smiled, a bit sadly.
"Remus was your favorite." Pomfrey blushed at being caught. How had he figured that out? As a nurse she didn't really have a need to play favorites, but Remus had been special.
"I guess he was," she admitted, putting her bag on the light stand and taking a seat on the bed. "I felt that he especially was my responsibility. I would often talk with him when he was in the hospital wing. I watched him grow up. Move from a shy little boy to a confident young man. It was one of the more rewarding things I have done in my life." Dumbledore nodded in understanding.
"The thing some teachers forget though," he said, almost regretfully rather then conversationally, "Is that we are watching all our charges grow up. Not just the ones that call our attention. Not just the bright, outgoing, humorous, and kind. We are also watching the cold, aloof, awkward, scared, lonely, and dangerously brilliant." Pomfrey noticed how his eyes dropped as he talked and she felt a bit guilty.
"Like Severus," she said. Dumbledore shrugged, though she knew that was exactly who he had been talking about.
"Like many of the children who go through Hogwarts," he replied. Pomfrey declined to say anything else, what could she say? There was nothing to be said. She picked up her bag and wished Dumbledore a pleasant night.
Dumbledore watched the nurse leave. In his arms, Snape moved a little, trying to get comfortable.
"It's alright, Severus," he whispered before placing a gentle kiss against his son's dark hair, "I'm here." Snape stilled and sighed, causing Dumbledore to smile ruefully.
Turning a little he retrieved his wand. A quick wave and a drawer opened and the chain Snape had hidden away earlier that night was summoned to his hand. Placing it back around Snape's neck where it rightfully belonged, he settled down to watch over his son for the night.
***
Minerva McGonagall reached the door to Snape's quarters and let herself in. She was not in the best of moods. From what she could understand of the House Elf's babbling, the Headmaster had stayed the night with Snape after he came back from his 'meeting.' It was a sweet thing to do, she had to grudgingly admit, but it was not wise for Dumbledore to get so attached to Snape.
Knocking on the bedroom door, she heard Dumbledore call her in. Snape, she saw, was sleeping under several blankets piled on his bed to keep him warm. Dumbledore was sitting in the chair next to the bed. He must have been reading because there was a book in his hands.
"Minerva," he said quietly so not to wake Snape. "What can I do for you?"
"There are two men from the Ministry upstairs. They want to talk to you." She didn't say what about, but he seemed to know. He nodded his understanding but looked back at Snape. "I'll stay with him until you come back," McGonagall offered. Dumbledore smiled and stood.
"Am I so predictable?" McGonagall nodded with a tight smile. Predictable was an understatement.
"When it comes to Severus? Yes." Dumbledore declined to answer as he smoothed Snape's hair away from his face. He had hoped that the Ministry's representatives wouldn't come until after he had a chance to talk to Snape and find out what had happened. But that couldn't be helped now.
"Try to keep him calm," he said to the Transfiguration Professor, "If he wakes up get him to drink a little water or weak tea. We'll see how it goes from there." McGonagall watched him leave and then took his vacated seat next to Snape's bedside.
She took out a book from her sleeve and allowed herself a real smile. She had known that the only way the Headmaster would leave Snape's side was if he knew someone was watching Snape for him.
Snape sighed and turned over without waking up. McGonagall saw that his hair had fallen in his face again and she got up to move it away. She brushed the dark strands out of his face and off his neck when she stopped.
A faint sparkle had caught her eye. Reaching down, she found a practically invisible chain under the collar of the gray nightshirt. She shook her head. It couldn't possibly be.
Carefully, so not to wake Snape, she pulled the chain out from under his shirt until a tiny silver charm fell into her hand.
"Oh dear sweet Merlin!"
Author's Note: Did anyone notice that Snape is reading the same book his babysitter read the night she died? Irony is my friend.
Next: How will McGonagall react? Will she be like Black and believe that Snape is participating in an elaborate plot to gain the Headmaster's trust? Or will she find out the truth? Also, the Dream Team goes to talk to one of the teachers in search of information.