Hello, readers! Sorry to take so long, but this bit gave me some trouble. I hope you like it, as it is simply the calm before the storm.

Next bit: Serious Sirius torture. Serious Severus torture. Interhouse warfare. Cat and Dog take each other's measure. Remus plots. Death Eaters. A Ravenclaw's take on the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry. Relatives and other hazards to life, limb and sanity. The Bed. Impressions of  a first-time teacher.

Please let me know what you think?

Sincerely

Chaos

P.S. Check my bio for my website and come for a visit. I'll be archiving my own fic there, but also my absolute favorite reads. You know, the ones that you can read again and again? The first one goes up this weekend, and I will try to put another one on the site every weekend thereafter.

~

Like Cats and Dogs

Chapter 9

~

In the cool fog of morning, a large black cat slipped quietly out of a window and landed in the wet grass. He moved with purpose, and a little haste, to the base of one of Hogwarts' towers where he made good use of the cover of the bushes and then of the wet grass.

One of the first things that Severus had learned about cat form was the surprising efficiency of the renal and digestive systems. One of the other first things he had learned was that sandboxes had no bog roll. The discovery that he'd have to lick his own arse clean nearly made him give in right then. Getting someone else to lick it for him was just too kinky a thought to be allowed – even he had some limits, though there would be a few who might be astonished to hear it - so he'd had to apply his mind to a solution.

Besides, pissing on Gryffindor tower was a very satisfying thing to do first thing in the morning. Even better was what would happen when the dormitory stoves and the fireplace in the common room were fired for the first time. When dried to mineral salts and then heated, cat urine produced a stench that was utterly revolting.

It was good to feel so much better that he could actually think of these things.

His first day in Filch's care passed in a haze of sleep and potions, broken only by the sound of Mrs. Norris' purring. Minerva had come by to check on his progress, only Severus had fallen asleep in the middle of what she was saying. Albus had been by and murmured comforting nonsense, much as he had many years ago. Sometimes it seemed that the old wizard spent an inordinate amount of time at Severus' bedside.

The second day saw Severus moving about, if stopping for frequent naps. By nightfall, he took himself out on rounds. Stopping briefly by Remus' door to eavesdrop on Remus and 'Toffee.' All was quiet, though, and off he went, looking for other things to occupy the hours.

His vision at night was excellent. Moving about in simple starlight was comparable to being in a dimly lit room - with the moon out, he could have easily read a book.

As of this morning, day three, he was feeling a little bored and anxious to get back to his pre-term preparations.

But…

No.

Let Sirius… no, let Toffee be the first to show the white flag. Severus put on his best 'Cat Who Walks by Himself' walk and strutted back into the school with his tail high and whiskers en pointe.

~

"Books? Check. Clothes? Check. Toiletries? Check. Broom and kit? Check.. Linens and bedding? Packsack full of whatevers? Check. Check." Missy muttered over the pile of boxes and bags in the foyer, frowned and raised her voice to carry into the kitchen. "Emmy? Are you sure that you shouldn't bring another comforter? Those dungeon rooms aren't what you're used to."

Emily had been balky about packing, contending that she'd do nicely with her expedition bags. Artemisia had refused to hear it. "You'll be bored to tears without your books and music. You must have a professors' robes. And I'll be fucked and buttered if I'm letting you out of here in anything but proper style. Isn't you who always said that if you had to go down it was going to be in flames?"

"What I'm used to is strange accommodations – often complete with local wildlife – strange food, odd hours, and occasional moments of pants-peeing terror. How bad can being a teacher possibly be?" A pan scraped on the stovetop and Emily poked her head out. "In any case, it's not going to be for that long! Now quit fussing, love. Susan will be here any minute."

"I just want to make sure that you have everything you'll need."

The rest of Emily came into the hall and Missy snorted. Cargo trousers, trainers, glasses, brown hair in a knot, and wearing another blasted Puddlemere United jersey – Emily looked like a university student, not a professor. Though from the time her lover had spent on lesson plans and such, Hogwarts was going to have an epic shake-up in the dungeons.

Flowing up against her lover, Emily kissed her tenderly, whispering. "I won't have everything I need, Artemisia. I won't have you."

Missy's heart melted at Emily's expression. Lady Mother, how she loved this woman! "I'll owl you every day."

"And visit me every weekend," Emily prompted.

Missy nearly laughed. One of the first battles in Emily's new war had been over having Artemisia up for weekends – she had pointed out that there was no celibacy clause in her contract. There had been some contention. Emily put her foot down, saying that she was not under vows and that as long as she was not screwing students or the creatures in the school bestiary, her sexuality and her expression of it were her own business.

"But, Emmy, you know very well that teachers don't have sex, they merely have gender," she smiled, "Your aberrant tête-à-tête with Snape that year notwithstanding. Now, what's for breakfast?"

Emily's voice was a knee-melting purr as she cuddled even closer. "You with your legs over my shoulders and screaming for more?"

"I've created a monster!" That was much more gleeful in tone than it should have been, but right now breakfast was very far from Artemisia's mind.

And when Emily started kissing her, it was the very last thing on her mind.

The first thing on her mind was getting naked.

The second thing was getting horizontal – floor, table, bed, it didn't matter.

Fast.

~

Three days allowed Remus to regain his strength and some of his good humor – though in Sirius' opinion he had not regained enough. The dog bed was still by the chair, but Sirius had been permitted in the bed for the first time last night. The reproachful sighs and disappointment in Moony's gold-flecked eyes was hard to take, though.

Even worse was, "Here, Toffee! Here, boy!"

Remus was playing this for all it was worth in the hope that Sirius would show throat to Snape.

Not bloody likely.

Sirius had been in his animagus form for sometimes weeks at a time, so he had no trouble with actually being a dog. He would however wager his last knut that Whisp was in misery.

If he could get sight of him, that is.

Sirius had been smelling a new tomcat about the place for the past two nights and if it wasn't Snape, Sirius would kiss a Slytherin. The little bastard had taken to anointing the foundations of Gryffindor tower with fragrant eau de chat in the early hours of the morning when every self-respecting dog was asleep.

Perhaps he could persuade Dumbledore to have Whisp 'fixed?'

No, never happen.

"Remus? Could I have you and Toffee in my office please?" Albus' voice came right out of the walls. "Minerva, Argus? I'd like to see you both as well, and if you could bring… ah… the newest member of the feline contingent?"

"We'll be right there, sir," Remus replied, then turned to Sirius. "Now, for once in your life, please, just try to be conciliatory? Just a little?"

Conciliatory? Conciliatory! He wasn't the only one in this! If it was Sirius' fault that Snape was a cat, it was Snape's fault that Sirius was a dog! Snape was a dark wizard from before puberty for Frigg's sake! Where had the bastard found the spell anyway?

Sirius desperately wanted to be human again, just so he could tell the lot of them off - this collie body was just too waggy-tailed happy for his taste. Even when he wanted to be righteously pissed off, the sunny nature of the Border Collie wouldn't allow it.

Sirius mediated on the injustice of the past few days on the way to the headmaster's office until Moony coughed and stopped. Looking up in confusion, his shoulder pressing into Moony's leg, Sirius was surprised to see Remus smile. Maybe he was…

"Padfoot, I realize that taking the form means taking the characteristics, but could you stop herding me like a wayward wooly?"

~

Severus took an extra few minutes to respond to the page, as he wanted the use of a non-enchanted mirror to practice using his new face.

He'd managed a decently stern look that was actually rather impressive – whiskers at full extension with a slight downward tilt, ears up and forward, eyes just slightly narrowed – not squinting but…

"Severus?" Minerva's voice came over the address system.

Yes, the eyes should not appear squinty. He wanted to give the impression of a frown, not myopia. Now for the appropriate posture… such a bother. He'd never really had to think about these things before; he just did them. Perhaps he should stick with the classical Bast posture.

"Severus!"

Hmm. Minerva sounded a bit irritated.

Yes, the sitting posture was just fine, now how about standing? Tail up, chest out, chin forward but not in the air…

"SEVERUS!"

The mirror rattled in its frame and he could hear some of the portraits complaining. With an irritable meow, he jumped down from the dresser. There was no need to shout!

When he came up the stairs into the headmaster's office he was met with quite an assemblage. Lupin and The Dog sat to one side of Albus' desk. Minerva and Filch stood behind and to either side of the seated wizard leading to distinct thoughts of 'triumvirate' in Severus' mind. Opposite Lupin and Toffee, standing with open defiance was Emily Mayborne - dressed for a Quidditch match and not for the assumption of teaching duties.

Severus nodded politely to Albus before taking the chair next to Miss Mayborne.

"So nice of you to join us Severus." Minerva's lips had pinched themselves right out of existence.

The Dog was glaring at him while Lupin shook his head and muttered something that was probably not at all complimentary. Filch looked too poker-faced to be anything but vastly amused or royally ticked off. Emily, however, still looked as stunned and angry as she had when Albus hit her with the Prudissero. For her to be angry even after three days did not bode well – Emily Mayborne with her wind up could be dangerously notional and unpredictable.

Albus simply gazed at him with the same gentle reproach as he had with all of Severus' other failings. It took a mighty effort of will not to bow his head before that knowledge-filled gaze.

"I have called you all here at the insistence of Miss Mayborne, who has been deeply and unwillingly affected by this quarrel. Because of circumstances, she has been forced to leave a job she loves deeply to take another that she does not want." Albus switched his gaze from Severus to The Dog, making it amply clear that he was speaking to both of them. "She and her companion of many years will be separated for the first time since graduation, and she is very angry that I chose to enforce her silence by invoking a Prudissero."

Remus hissed an indrawn breath and gave Emily an apologetic look – something he had plenty of practice with doing, what with having Sirius Black and James Potter for friends.

And… maybe… he – Severus – owed… her an … well some sort of – not that he had intended anything like this – an - what an appalling taste in his mouth - apology, as well?

Tentatively reaching out a paw, he tapped at her hand for attention, then gritted his jaw and bumped her leg with the top of his head.  "Mripyow."

"Severus, was that an apology?" Lupin was wide-eyed, smiling. "I have just been witness to history!"

Minerva nodded, "It wasn't in English, but it's a start…"

Huffing in disgust, Severus turned his back on the lot. He knew how to apologise! It's just that he was right so often that he hardly ever had to do it - much.

"They are teasing, Severus." Dumbledore chided gently.

"Thank you, professor," Miss Mayborne spoke with unaccustomed respect in her voice. "I know that this is not entirely your doing." Severus permitted a gentle stroke of fingers from forehead to neck. She really did have a good touch; neither too gentle or too firm.

"Miss Mayborne, we really did not mean to infer… that is, we've known him a very long time. But I should not have teased, and for that I apologise." Lupin dared a finger to Severus' fur and got a surly hiss and swipe.

"We snipe at each other so often that I confess that I simply… feh." Minerva shook her head. "No excuse – I'm sorry, Severus."

Three apologies? He was being jollied – there was no other explanation.

No, he knew that Emily did not engage in false contrition and Minerva would bite out her tongue rather than have it offer untruth. Lupin apologised often, but Severus had long ago ceased to listen.

Oh, no. No. Absolutely not. If this was meant to get him to give in…

No.

Turning back around, Severus glared at Albus.

'No' I said and 'no' I meant! Let the bloody Dog, the fucking good-as-gold Gryffindor martyr swallow his pride and bend his neck!

"Severus…"

NO! Punctuated with the closest thing to a pantheresque scream that his cat-body could manage.

"Whatever it is that you want him to do, sir, it appears that he is not interested in cooperating." Miss Mayborne sounded resigned to her fate. "He can be bloody sticky on certain principles and if this is the case, I might as well go unpack."

Albus sighed as he rose and came to stand beside Emily. "It is a matter of principle, indeed, my child. I have asked much of Severus over the years, and should not be surprised that – as loyal as he is - he should eventually balk."

"What about the other wizard? Can't he…?"

Lupin shook his head. "Having known both of them for many years, Miss, I can safely say that you will not find two more determined, pigheaded, stubborn, rock-skulled, brick-brained, stiff-necked prats than these two."

Emily's sigh was despondent. "Yes, I know."

And what, exactly, did she mean by that?! Fine thing to slander a man when he'd no hope of speaking in his own defence!

"Yow!" he protested.

Miss Mayborne snorted, "I have to words for you, sir – warming potion."

Now that was just plainly unfair! He had been doing his duty as a teacher, trying to keep a young innocent from falling into debauchery! If she hadn't been so willful and popping with hormones, she'd have been able to see reason without his patient application of multiple detentions!

"Ah, I can see that you two have had your moments – most of them detentions?" Lupin laughed, "I'm certain, Severus, that you and your classes are in only the best of hands. Come, Toffee."

The Dog gave Severus a look that promised mayhem and followed the werewolf out, tail low.

"There will be a meeting of the staff tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, Miss Mayborne," Minerva rustled out from behind Albus' desk, stopping to give Emily the once over. "Attire appropriate to your new duties would be appreciated."

Emily muttered at her shoes, "Yes, ma'am."

Filch came next, grasping her hand in his, muttering a greeting and giving Emily what must be a smile – even if it did look like it hurt the man's face. "I'll be seeing you about some potions, Professor Mayborne, that Professor Snape was kind enough to make for me. For doctoring my… the furred and feathered ones, you see."

"Yes, of course, Master Filch."

The girl-woman now looked numb and dazed as Albus came around his desk and escorted her to the exit, a paternal arm about her shoulders. "I have no doubt that you will acquit yourself admirably, Emily. Severus spoke so highly of you as a student. Tomorrow is the staff meeting, the day after that the Governor's Tea, and the students come back that evening. Now, take the rest of today and this evening to get yourself settled. If there's anything that I can do to assist you, do let me know. Good afternoon, Emily."

~

"I hope you know, Professor, that I am planning to make your life a living hell for your part in this little press-ganging." Emily put her pack-frame away with a touch of unwarranted nostalgia. She'd be using it again, and soon!

Snape gave her a series of 'yows' and 'mrips' from his perch atop her bookcase. Missy had really outdone herself on the packing – every one of her favorite books was in there, and a special case for the ancient papyri scrolls from Herculaneum that Emily was deciphering.

"What I really need is a Feline-to-English translator."

Snape made a fine-looking cat. Give him a lapis-and-gold collar, put a fat gold ring in one ear and he'd be the image of an Egyptian witch's familiar.

The house elves had already unpacked most of her things, and she was now rearranging them. In disgrace from their families and with little more to go on other than an apprentice's stipend, Emily and Artemisia had furnished their surroundings with second-hand furniture and items from the locales where they were assigned. Alpaca wool blankets from Peru, brass pots from Syria, sat side by side with Italian Renaissance end tables and overstuffed sofas from chic Muggle shops.

Even now that they made ridiculous amounts of money as Invested Partners, they kept much of their unique style. Even if their names went back thousands of years in wizard genealogies, their money was new – and more importantly to them – all their own.

Emily just didn't like having so much of her things here. It implied a leaving – and she was not leaving Artemisia! It looked… wrong. Snape's furniture was well-worn, comfortable and very much his. The carpets on the stone floors, the time darkened woods and leathers were not what she would have chosen. The colorful charro's blanket bought in a dusty little market town in northern Mexico was out of place here.

As out of place as she was.

She was an Acquisitor, not a teacher! She wasn't a real professor at all! And what would some of the parents say when they found out that a mercenary – the most common appellation uttered in public – was to be teaching their children?

Gathering the blanket to her, Emily clenched her eyes shut until the prickling and shimmer passed. Not for all the treasure under Gringott's would she cry over this, not in front of anyone other than Missy.

And certainly not in front of someone with whom she had a very strange history.

There was a thump and a head butted at her calf. "Yow."

Emily thought that there might be a bit of sympathy in that soft utterance and she wondered what it had been like for him his first year as a teacher. "Thank you."

Might as well take the sympathy, because cat or no, he's going to raise screaming bloody hell when he sees what you're going to do to his classes.

Turning the laugh into a cough, Emily turned to the last of the cargo with which she'd been laden and shook her head.

Four bloody suitcases. Honestly, that woman can be like a child with a new doll.

Missy had insisted on ordering her new robes and used the excuse to indulge in a full-fledged shopping spree. Plying Emmy with frapped iced mochas the two had run all over Diagon Alley, and then hit Muggle London as if shopping would be outlawed tomorrow. Emily now had enough knickers and brassieres to go three weeks before doing laundry – not to mention some very fine fancies to wear under her new dress robes.

Still. Moving her things into the wardrobe and chest of drawers, and putting her sheets and covers on the bed made everything seem so… permanent.

Snape's bed. The thought occupied more space than she wanted it to. Since what had simply come to be referred to as That Night, Emily had carefully tamped down the very sexual thoughts when Snape indicated that there would be no follow-through. He had been most proper with her at all times since her leaving school, and she returned the courtesy.

But still, there was that unresolved, incomplete act. In all her life, Emily had never desired a man as she had desired Snape that evening  - even as appalled as she had been at her wanton conduct the next day. While she had bedded a few men since then, gallant and enthusiastic as they were - even the act of intercourse did not heat her blood, inflame her reason as much as Snape's kisses.

And if she was going to go on like this, she was going to be a quivering wreck by the time Missy came up for the weekend.

Forestalling any further thought on the subject, she drew her wand and flicked it at the cases and opened the door to the bedroom.

Only to be opposed by Snape, who attempted to bar the way.

With fur slicked down and ears askew, he planted himself in the doorway and yowed at her.

"Well, where did you think I was going to sleep? On the sofa?" Removing the indignant four-footed obstacle from her path, she entered the bedroom, flicking her wand with a muttered, "Lumos."

Just inside the door, she stopped and stared with eyes wide.

It was…  amazing. In all her travels, she had never seen anything like it. Circling around, Emily studied it with undisguised fascination and some trepidation – she wasn't sure that she was at all equipped to deal with anything like this. Even in its current state, it was impressive, imposing, even intimidating.

Turning to Snape - who was now glaring at her greenly from the top of her cases – Emily gestured to the veritable monument.

"That's not a bed, that's a Quidditch pitch with curtains!"

~

TBC

~