Wow! Thanks for all the reviews and crit! I'm so happy that you are all enjoying the tale.

This bit is a little different, mostly exposition and scene-setting for the next bit.

In the last chapter – the shit hit the fan.

In this chapter – reload.

I hope that you like this as much, and please let me know what you think!

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Like Cats and Dogs

Chapter 6

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It was later – Severus was a little hazy by exactly how much.

Minerva and Filch had marched right to the Transfiguration classroom, where Minerva went hammer and tongs at trying to turn him and Sirius back to human form.

It was to no avail.

After the last attempt, Severus took refuge under a cabinet, shaking so hard he could scarcely walk. Filch dragged him back out and squeezed a dropper of something with hawthorn in it down his throat. After that he spent some in a very tranquil state of mind, stretched out on Minerva's desk not paying attention to anything in particular.

"Nothing works, not on either of them. Between Wizard's Lock and the similarity of the spells that they used, they've managed to make whatever it is that they did undoable." Minerva even sounded cat-like in her frustration.

"All the same, Professor, while I don't know magic, I do know cats. He's in shock and another attempt to put him right could kill him instead. "

Must have been something other than hawthorn in that dropper… Ah, right, that's the one with poppy juice. No wonder I don't care.

Filch's rough fingers touched his nose, his paw pads, his ears, then moved under his armpit to rest against the rapid pulse there. "The sedative's doing him some good, but still, I'd ask that you wait a few days before trying anything else."

"The start of term is in six days, Filch! We can't find someone to take over his classes on that short of notice while we figure this out."

"What about the… other animagus? Couldn't he do something? The dog is another wizard, isn't he?"

Minerva sighed. "He is, Argus, but keep that fact tight behind your teeth. The situation is…"

"I know, Professor. I may not be magical, but I got a brain hooked up to my eyes. It's bad, with him all in the middle of it. I'll go get the Headmaster, see if maybe he can get this sorted out."

"Thank you, Argus."

Severus considered opening his eyes, but was just too relaxed. His senses were dulled by the medicine - his painfully acute sense of smell was now no longer overwhelming. Hearing was almost distracting as he itched to investigate rustles and scratchings that he'd never noticed before. This body also felt more, and responded so fast that thought flashed to action almost before he could control it. 

Sight was… disorienting. Colors seemed muted while light almost hurt, whereas in the dimness of the halls, he could see wonderfully well.

There was a long silence and then Minerva spoke. "I don't know what you were thinking. I really don't. Or maybe I'm giving you both too much credit."

The Dog made a sound that was possibly meant to be endearing, but instead sounded like he had indigestion.

"And you! I would think that somewhere in your reading that you might have come across the fact that the first transformation is bloody dangerous for a new animagus. He could easily have died of the shock."

There was a long silence. Severus thought that if he had to stay as he was, it was not exactly a bad thing. After all, Voldemort would hardly stoop to kill a cat, right? But…

No thumbs = No potions.

That got his eyes open.

Severus had dedicated his life to his work. Attaining Master status at the age of twenty-three was almost unheard of, and he had been published in the top journals of the field with regularity. Several of his books were required reading in university and post-graduate Potions courses.

He had a monograph on ancient Sumerian alchemical tablets due to his publisher by June.

He had students to teach and his Slytherins to watch over.

He had operatives to manage and meetings to attend. If Voldemort called and a cat showed up…

Well, maybe he would stoop to kill a cat, or kill one in the effort to turn him back into a human. Just about the only thing keeping Severus alive was his not-to-be-equaled knowledge.

The sedative and narcotic effects of the potion were wearing off, though the hawthorn would continue to regulate his heart action and blood pressure, as well as keeping his muscles relaxed. Moving carefully, he rolled and assumed what he had always thought of as a cats 'loaf' position – legs under body, forelegs tucked under front and tail wrapped close.

"Severus?" Minerva bent to look at him, speaking in a gentle tone he'd never heard from her before. Maybe all that chasing had tired her out.

"Merrp?" Communication was going to be something of a problem.

"How are you feeling?"

Well, how was he feeling? Severus considered.

All his senses were working just fine, as far as he could tell. His cat-body felt a little odd, almost as if he was wearing a not-quite right pair of shoes. Some food would be nice, and some water.

Now, how to communicate this? He licked meditatively at his shoulder.

"Let me rephrase that, just shake or nod your head. Are you in any pain? Do you feel well? Are you cold? Hungry? Thirsty?"

Agreement to hungry and thirsty brought him some water, though he had some difficulty drinking it.

"Just relax. The animal portion of you knows what to do."

Easier said than done. The cat part of him was as new to this as a kitten and he drank awkwardly, snorting some of the water up his nose and nearly upsetting the glass with a sneeze. Severus' whiskers sent messages to his brain that he was in a narrow place; it was difficult to override them with the firm thought that he simply had his nose in a goblet. Some minced beef went down nicely, and before long Severus found his attentions engaged an overwhelming need for a post-prandial, full-body wash.

Minerva cleared her throat and he looked up at her. "Your attention, please, Severus. Normally, an animagus prepares – sometimes for months – for their first transformation. Since you never trained that talent, I will have to give you a very quick course. You know that when you assume a form, you assume the limitations of that form. Hence, you have a human mind, a cat's body – but you also have some of a cat's instincts and reflexes. I saw you trying to deal with your whiskers when you were drinking, and when you finished eating you immediately had a need to wash. You'll need to be mindful of your natures, as animal drives are very strong. You'll understand that soon enough."

Through all of this, Severus listened attentively, wishing desperately that he'd listened during those long-ago days when he'd been in this room as a student. He had questions, but no way to ask them. Maybe he could manage to knock a book or two off the shelves and read? He could turn pages, at least.

Black settled to the floor with a long sigh and Severus gave him what he hoped was a gimlet stare. When he had his human form back, he would eschew magic for fists and pound the bastard bloody. Fucking golden Gryffindors. As far as Severus was concerned, Black could stay a dog until hell froze.

Filch returned, accompanied by the headmaster and Lupin – neither of whom looked remotely amused. Dumbledore gestured Minerva out into the hall and Filch excused himself to return to his rounds, leaving Severus and Sirius with a highly brassed off Remus.

Arms crossed on chest, he looked from Sirius to Severus. "You stupid, selfish, thoughtless, immature bloody bastards! You really went and did it this time, you brainless sods. This is the outside of enough, even for you prats! You'd better hope that Albus can put it right or as far as I'm concerned you can both stay that way! It's better than what you deserve, a far sight better than what I'd give you, that's sure."

Turning to Sirius, Remus let loose. "You've always teased him, always made fun of him. Now, even after all you've both been through, you can't have a little more compassion? Even now, knowing who he is, what he's risked, you still treat him like the greasy git, the weird little dark wizard! Shite! You of all people should know better."

Golden-brown eyes turned to Severus in accusation, "Severus, why can't you just let go of this? Is it worth it to keep carrying this anger around with you? I know what Sirius did was wrong, but damn it to hell, man! It was over twenty years ago!"

Severus felt the fur along his spine raise in outrage! It was attempted murder, Lupin! Even if you had no part in it, you defended him! I got two weeks in the infirmary, and to walk around with your bloody secret, with a life debt to Potter as a bonus! The bloody golden Gryffindor got detention for a year in exchange for a grudging apology that was mumbled at the infirmary floor! Fuck you and that high horse you rode up on – and take the Dog with you!

Well, communicating in words might not be possible, but the hissing, spitting and yowling was most effective in conveying his emotional state. Severus didn't care what it took – he would not give in, he would not compromise, he would not be ever-so-gently browbeaten into concession. He was going to hold his ground come hell, high water, or Albus Dumbledore! Let the bloody fucking blasted sodding wanking damned bleeding golden Gryffindors humble themselves for a change!

With that, he bunched his legs under him, sprang from desk to the top of one of the bookcases, and resumed his interrupted wash.

~

Remus watched Severus and considered that he had been less thoroughly cursed out by human beings with impressive vocabularies. Nothing conveyed fury and contempt like a cat in a spitting rage and Severus wore his rage like his skin. As often as Remus had tried to apologize or explain his part in the events of that long-ago night, Severus refused to listen – as the terminology of their youth so accurately termed it, 'cutting him dead.'

And that even years later the Slytherin-Gryffindor animosity had declined only slightly from total warfare pained Remus deeply. Magic use was still forbidden in the halls – the hexes flying between members of both houses had been thick enough to walk on and had kept Madam Pomfrey quite busy. Slytherin and Gryffindor tables were still on opposite sides of the Great Hall – a development made necessary by massive food fights in which silverware, serving trays, pitchers, and benches occasionally became airborne.

It was only recently that the two houses had been paired up for classes – they'd had to be split up following an incident of warfare in Potions that ended with Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh-years glued to walls, floor and desks. Severus might have been sworn to secrecy about the events of that night, but Slytherin knew blood had been shed and wanted payback even now.

It was a good thing that Severus had thought to make extra headache potion – Remus was sure that he'd have use for it.

~

Sirius could smell the aftermath of the previous evening on Remus and felt deeply ashamed. This was the last thing he had ever intended, but - as was usual with Whisp – the situation had spun madly out of control. It seemed that every time Sirius and Severus interacted that fickle Fate not only made use of that famous finger, but also bent them over and vigorously buggered them both.

Still, this was hardly all his fault! Remus was overreacting, really. Severus was, is, and ever would be a greasy git and a weird dark wizard - the supercilious prick that he was.

The door opened and Minerva McGonagall came in, trailed by a very somber Albus Dumbledore. Sirius had only seen this particular expression once before – and it hadn't improved with age. It made him feel fourteen again, horrified at what he had so unthinkingly done, not so much to Severus, but to Remus and James. Those summer-sky-blue eyes were weapons that flayed him alive, cutting through every reason or justification that he might offer up.

Sirius kept his eyes on the headmaster's knees, resisting a canine impulse to roll and bare his throat – Snape was as much to blame!

Albus shook his head and sighed, a sound so aggrieved that Sirius dropped his gaze to the floor, his tail curling under him. What was worse, there was not even the smell of anger from the headmaster – though Minerva and Remus were more than filling the lack.

"When I asked that the pair of you to find ways to work together, I did not mean against each other." There was no anger in that gentle voice either, only a terrible disappointment that was worse than any shouting. "Severus, come down, please."

Nothing.

"Severus." A pause. "Severus." Another sigh. "My dear boy, I know you can hear me as your ears are turned back this way. Kindly orient the rest of you to join them?"

A long pause was followed by a thump from the bookcase to the desk, and another from the desk to the floor. The Cat took a place in front of Albus, but out of Sirius' lunging range. Whisp was getting the hang of it, it had taken Sirius most of his first transformation just to get used to his legs.

Looking from one to Sirius to Severus and back again, Albus spoke. "By your use of warding spells and two very similar processes, you have managed to lock out anything I might be able to do to restore you to yourselves. Even Minerva, with all of her experience, is uncertain how you have managed this… debacle."

Oh, it certainly was that, wasn't it? Sirius glared at The Cat. If Albus Dumbledore couldn't undo what they had done then both he and Snape had landed in the shit with both feet! Now what were they going to do?

~

Severus felt his fur fluff with astonishment, and a little bit of fear.

Albus can't…?  Severus felt his ears… his ears!… fold back as he glared at The Dog.

"Unless you each agree to release each other from this enchantment, Cat and Dog you will both remain." Albus was even more somber as he took a chair and folded his hands, blue eyes so very sad, "I ask that you both find it in your hearts do undo what you have done."

For a moment Severus wavered in his determination not to yield and felt his fur slick down in shame. This was Albus! The man to whom he owed his tattered soul, indeed, his very sanity and existence! Albus gave him refuge, shrived him and gave him a way to expiate his legion of sins. In all sober truth, Albus Dumbledore was more of a father to him than anyone else had ever bothered to be.

But…

So many times backing down. So many time holding his tongue. So many times having to look the other way. Always compromise, always concession, always giving in.

They were all looking right at him - Lupin, Minerva, Albus, even The Dog. All of them were waiting for him to do as he had before and give up the field  - maybe not gracefully, maybe not easily, but give over nonetheless. They'd let him alone until he'd managed to handle the taste of his swallowed pride and then act as if nothing untoward had ever happened.

No.

No. No. NO!

Mustering every bit of will at his disposal, Severus rose and turned his back on the lot of them.

~

Minerva felt her lips flatten into a straight line. Severus' body language was as clear to her as a sign with red letters two feet high.

The sign read, "I WON'T!" and she didn't think that there was much hope of backing him off. The man's antipathy to Gryffindors in general and Remus and Sirius in particular was old and deep, while at the same time as raw and bloody as it was the day he awoke in the infirmary.

The child Severus had been was what her own mother called 'Curious Cat' - must go, must see, must know - and the consequences of following his nose had been horrific. Even as a sixth-year, and with his feral nature tamed somewhat - there had still been much of the child in the boy. It nearly broke her heart to see the cold, aloof and suspicious creature that came out of the infirmary after the Incident.

He never spoke of it.

Even after his return to Hogwarts, when Albus asked him to back down from something, or loosen his grip, or change his mind – Minerva could see Severus swallowing his pride, putting a lid on his temper, agreeing with the man he honestly revered. Even when it cost Severus personally to do so.

That was not going to happen today.

Minerva heard the Muggle psychological phrase 'inner child' and understood the concept.

Severus Nicander Snape's inner child was spitting his dummy and would hold his breath until he bloody well turned blue.

~

TBC – new chapter by tomorrow, I think.