Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters and settings belong to me. They are all the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing around with them for the fun of it…no monetary gain is sought.

This story is dedicated to scatteredlogic for her cherished friendship and all her invaluable help.

Chapter Eleven: Disturbing Behavior

A clock ticked off the final moments of pre-student peace as Minerva bustled around her classroom getting ready for her first class of the week. She moved from desk to desk setting out jars of garter snakes for the second year Hufflepuffs to attempt to turn into walking sticks. Most of them had completely mastered turning beetles into buttons. Some had even gotten to the point of being able to add fancy touches, like varying the number of holes in the buttons and adding decorative tracery. Now, it was time to move on to something a bit more challenging. She thought they'd be up to the task. It would certainly be an excellent wake up for a Monday morning at any rate.

As she set the final jar on the last desk, the door opened quietly behind her, and she immediately tensed. Her class almost always arrived en masse at the last second, and they were never quiet. Since this was a good three minutes from the warning bell, odds were good that this wasn't the class at all, but instead, was her expected, but highly unwelcome, visitor.

With a sigh, she forced a smile onto her face and turned around to speak to Ian Standish, who stood in the open doorway and smiled warmly at her.

"Good morning, Minerva. I missed you at breakfast." His voice begged the question.

"Good morning, Ian. I had some final preparations to make for my lessons today, so I had breakfast in my rooms this morning. I see you had no difficulty finding my classroom, though." Her voice remained firm and businesslike. She wasn't about to betray any hint of nervousness; she'd promised herself that. Somehow, she had to banish this leftover fear that his presence always inspired. After all, she was a grown woman with a responsible position. No longer did he hold any power over her. She needed to remember that and act accordingly.

He smiled. "No, Poppy was kind enough to point me in the right direction."

"Good." Let Poppy drool over you if she's so foolish, she thought acidly. "Well, the students will be arriving at any moment. You can take a seat here at the back of the room where you'll be out of the way. You shouldn't have any problems seeing and hearing whatever you need to. We can discuss anything you wish after class is over. Will this be satisfactory?" She directed a bland inquiring look his way.

"Oh, yes. That sounds fine to me." Amusement flickered through his eyes, and he turned to take a seat just as the class thundered through the door like a herd of Hippogriffs.

Minerva wasted no time taking charge, and in a very short time indeed, the entire class was in their seats concentrating hard at trying to work this next bit of transfiguration on the unfortunate denizens of the glass jars.

A few of them seemed to grasp the process quite quickly, but it was obvious that others were going to have more trouble, as was the usual way with things. Minerva walked briskly back and forth between the desks stating the proper procedure again and again and giving advice on wand technique and proper pronunciation of the incantation. Once most of them had had at least a minimum success at the task, she launched into a more detailed lecture of the theory behind what they were doing, with particular emphasis on why it was a bit more difficult to transfigure reptiles than it had been to transfigure insects.

About halfway through the class period, Ian stood up and abruptly asked if transfiguration got progressively more difficult as the subject to be transfigured got more sophisticated.

Minerva was startled at the unexpected interruption. As the question was relevant to the lesson though, and the students appeared interested, she decided to answer him. Though she'd have thought he'd have already known the answer for himself.

"Certainly, it gets more difficult to effectively transfigure more sophisticated living creatures into inanimate objects. The more sophisticated the nervous system, the more difficult the transformation." She frowned at Ian, and wondered why he'd suddenly chosen to interrupt her, especially after she'd asked him to wait to ask questions until after the class period was over.

Ian leaned casually back against the classroom wall and smiled. "Is it more difficult to transfigure people?"

Unsure just what he was getting at, she answered him cautiously. "Yes, transfiguring people is much more difficult. Effectively changing from human form into something else is a very advanced skill. We won't be discussing Animagi in this class. Second years have a lot of fundamental skills to learn before they can even discuss the theories involved in such complex transfiguration."

"I'm sure that's true, but I wasn't really wondering about Animagi. I was wondering if it was difficult to transfigure someone without their consent."

Heads raised all the around the classroom and then turned to look at her. Shocked by the question, Minerva answered sharply, "That is forbidden Dark Magic and will not be taught in this class…or anywhere else in this school, Mr. Standish."

"How about if the person in question is dead?" Ian persisted. "Would you know how to transfigure a dead person?"

All the students were looking back and forth between them now with fascinated expressions on their faces. Livid with rage that he would ask such inappropriate questions in front of her class, yet mindful that all of the students were hanging on her next words, Minerva struggled to keep her voice steady and low pitched. She did nothing to mask its coldness, however.

She directed a stern look at the class. "Please, get back to concentrating on your exercises. I have yet to see a truly well done walking stick from any of you."

As the students once more took up their wands and went back to work at their assigned tasks, she turned to a tallish dark haired boy with a pronounced overbite and said, " Mr. Crowley, please monitor the class in my absence. I'll be right back."

As the boy nodded nervously, she turned a cold eye on Ian and stated firmly, "Mr. Standish, may I please speak to you outside in the hallway?"

Without waiting to hear his response, she stalked over to the door and opened it, sweeping through into the corridor beyond. Once he'd joined her, she closed the door quietly but firmly and turned to glare at him. "How dare you ask such inappropriate questions in my class? It was my understanding that you were here to observe the class not to disrupt it with discussions of subjects that should not come up in a class of second year students. If you have any more questions of this sort that you need the answers to, please, keep them to yourself until the class is over. If you can't abide by this, then I suggest you seek out the Headmaster and complain to him. I'm willing to bet that you know the way to his office."

Faced with her fiery indignation, Ian tried to look contrite. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I didn't realize that my questions would be a problem."

Her eyebrows rose. "You didn't realize that discussion of highly inappropriate Dark Magic would cause a problem in a class of impressionable second years? Then perhaps the Board of Governors sent the wrong person to evaluate this school and how we do things around here." Angrily, she whirled around and opened the door to her classroom, walking back into the middle of the room, and immediately resuming the thread of her lesson as if the interruption hadn't happened. Standish watched her go without a word. Then, as the door closed after her, he turned and walked quickly away with a small smile on his broad face.

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Minerva was late for dinner. She'd have avoided it completely if she could have, but she'd missed more meals than usual lately, and she had a feeling that if she didn't show up, Albus would come looking for her and somehow find a way to subtly remind her that she had a job to do, and hiding wasn't going to get it done. Besides, Minerva was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors didn't hide from their problems, unfortunately, no matter how much they wanted to.

Hoping to be unnoticed in the noisy throng of eating students and staff, she walked into the hall, and paused for a moment, scanning the head table reluctantly. Her chair seemed to be the only empty one. Her eyes flitted automatically to one end of the table's long length and a jolt ran through her to see Severus watching her coldly. She hadn't spoken to him since she'd run away from him Friday evening. A heavy feeling lodged deeply within her as she relived that moment with regret. She should never have run away, but perhaps it would be for the best in the long run.

With Ian prying into her affairs as he was, and with Albus insisting that she spend more time with the man, there really wasn't much time for her to spend with Severus at the moment. And if she somehow managed to find the time, she was far too upset and worried to enjoy it properly, not to mention that the last thing either of them could afford would be for Ian to discover their…arrangement. That could spell disaster for them both.

It seemed wisest to temporarily end their relationship. Hopefully, Severus would understand. After all, it was in his best interest to keep a low profile around Ian, too. The man wouldn't be here forever. She needed to hang onto that bright, encouraging thought for all she was worth. Eventually, he would slink back into his hole, and then things could go back to normal again. At least, she prayed that they could.

Yes, calling a temporary halt to their arrangement made the most sense. Not that she was looking forward to having that conversation, but it would have to take place…and soon. Of course, it would depend on Severus being willing to talk to her, and from the glare that he was currently sending in her direction, that was something of an assumption on her part. Perhaps their arrangement was already a moot point, she realized sadly.

With a sigh, she started slowly down the length of the room to take her place next to Ian at the table. After their parting earlier, she was looking forward to speaking to him even less than usual. What on earth had made him ask those questions in her class? There hadn't seemed to be any point to them. Yet the look on his face had made her wonder if perhaps she'd just been missing it. Could he have intended them for some specific purpose? If so, just what that purpose could possibly be eluded her. Another reason to feel uneasy in his presence, as if she needed any more.

As she passed Snape's chair, he glanced up at her for a moment with slightly narrowed eyes, but when she paused, thinking he might have been going to speak, he turned away once more and gave all his attention to his dinner. So she continued on to her chair without stopping, her mood darkening even more.

She took her seat quietly and began to fill her plate, although she had absolutely no desire for food.

"Good evening, Minerva." Ian turned and smiled at her. "I was wondering if you were going to join us."

She picked up her fork and turned reluctantly to her table companion. "I apologize for being late. I had a few things to finish in my office before I could come down to dinner."

Ian smiled and nodded sympathetically. "Yes, work does have to be done, and other things such as regular meals are often a casualty."

Minerva nodded stiffly. "I'm glad you understand."

"Oh, I do understand. I really owe you an apology for my behavior this morning during your class. I certainly never meant to disrupt things like that. I should have waited until class was over to ask my questions."

"Yes, you should've," she snapped shortly. "Perhaps, if you've learned your lesson, you won't repeat that mistake when you are observing someone else's class."

"I assure you that I've learned my lesson. You've educated me as well today." His smile was ingratiating, and it made her nervous. He was after something, she realized suddenly, and with his next words, it appeared that she was right.

"I'd like to apologize to you further. Would you be willing to come to my rooms for a while after dinner? Just a short while, I assure you. I know how busy you are."

She raised suddenly nervous eyes to his. The last thing she wanted to do was spend any time completely alone with the man. "There's no need for a further apology, Ian. The matter is settled as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you. That's very generous of you. However, there are things that I'd like to speak to you about that I really can't bring up in public. Please, join me for a drink and a short conversation. I really need to talk to you, Minerva."

Minerva chewed on the inside of her lip and considered her options. Ian was staring at her over the rim of his water goblet and seemed quite sincere in his desire to talk. That didn't mean that she had the same desire, of course. As she tried to think of a way to decline the invitation without causing further problems, her eyes lit on those of Albus Dumbledore who was sitting just beyond Ian and was obviously following their conversation closely.

The elder wizard raised an eyebrow and winked at her as their eyes locked momentarily. It was clear that he wanted her to take Ian up on his invitation. No doubt if she turned it down, she'd find herself sitting in his office instead, listening to another little speech about how important it was to discover Ian's true motive for coming here. Since she really couldn't argue with that, she might as well get it over with and just go and talk to Ian now. He was promising a short conversation, after all. Though, no doubt, it would be up to her to assure that he adhered to that promise.

She brought her attention back to Ian and smiled as naturally as she could. "All right, Ian. I'll be glad to join you after dinner for a short while. It will have to be somewhat brief though because I do have a lot of work to get back to."

Smiling triumphantly, Ian nodded his head in acceptance of her caveat. "Of course. Just one drink and a little conversation is all that I ask."

Why didn't she believe that? With a nod, Minerva turned back to her dinner, which she now had to force herself to eat.

As dessert was finally finishing up and people were drinking the last of their coffee and tea, Minerva noticed Severus abruptly get up and leave the room through the door behind the head table. He was virtually the only one who ever used that door. Since it fed onto a corridor that led to the stairway to the dungeons, that made sense, she supposed. It gave him a quick exit from the rest of them if he needed it. At the moment, she wished that she had a quick exit that she could take as well, but no, she had to wait and leave with Ian. Contemplating that fate made her reach for the nearest teapot and freshen her cup. There certainly wasn't any rush as far as she was concerned.

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Snape stalked down the corridor rapidly. His robes snapped and billowed around his legs as he once more moved along with his usual easy stride. His annoying limp had been subdued by sheer force of will and could no longer betray his slight weakness for anyone to see. The dull ache was still there inside, but he'd been quite able to ignore its presence most of the time, and certainly he'd been successful in preventing anyone else from being aware that he was anything other than completely fit once more.

The throbbing in his leg blended with that at his temple, and he found himself matching his steps to its cadence. Minerva had hardly blinked as he'd glared at her when she'd finally come in to dinner. She'd been making herself scarce ever since she'd run out on him Friday evening. Anger still burned inside him when he thought about her rejection. What sort of a game did she think she was playing, anyway? Surely she knew he was not someone to toy with? If she had somehow missed that little fact, then he'd just have to point it out to her at the first opportunity. No woman made a fool out of him. No matter how much he desired to have her in his bed.

She hadn't called off their arrangement, so, in theory, she was still interested in pursuing it, but every time he touched her, every time he got to the brink of getting what he'd been waiting so damned long for, she put him off with some lame excuse or even with no excuse at all! Why? It had to be that smooth bastard Standish. She kept denying that she wanted to spend any time with the man, yet every time he turned around, there they were together.

Just to make everything even more annoying, now suddenly it was his responsibility to make sure that Standish got whatever he wanted from Minerva. He scowled blackly. Whatever he wanted. He'd made it pretty damned obvious what he wanted. He wanted Minerva beneath him in bed. Suddenly, his mind filled with a flash of memory, clear and bright, of soft skin glistening with sweat, of tangled ebony locks caressing his flesh as warm lips trailed down over his naked body…down...down. He gasped sharply.

Damn it! He wrenched his mind back to the present, threw open the door to his office and stalked inside. Why the hell should the Dark Lord care who Standish took as a lover? It made no sense. Well, he wasn't about to help Standish get his way. He didn't care who wanted it! For now at least, Minerva was his to play with, or reject, as he wished, and he certainly wasn't interested in sharing with Standish. No matter what the Dark Lord commanded.

He walked over to his desk and frowned down at a pile of library books that stood on the corner waiting to be returned. Another stupid demand on his time. With a sigh of disgust, he scooped the lot of them up into his arms and headed for the door to his office once more. Might as well return them now and get it over with before Pince started sending him those loud, obnoxious reminders of hers.

As he started up the dungeon stairs once more, he tried to turn his mind to less annoying thoughts. It was barely possible, after all, that he was wrong, as unlikely as it seemed. Perhaps, he'd been misreading the situation between Minerva and Standish. She said that she was spending time with the man only because Albus wanted her to. Certainly, that could be the truth. She hadn't looked overly happy any time he'd seen them together, after all. Perhaps her rejections of him had more to do with stress than with any true desire on her part to change their arrangement. Women did manage to find so many things to get overwrought about. Surely, it was possible that no matter what Standish wanted, Minerva didn't want the same thing. Indeed, if she was that eager for Standish, why would the irritating man have felt the need to ask for his help?

Just as he was drawing some encouragement from that thought, Snape reached the ground floor of the castle. He turned and started up the main staircase when he noticed two figures just entering the doorway that led towards the rooms at the back of the first floor. Standish and Minerva. Heading where? Curious, he increased the speed of his steps and paused to look after them down the hallway. They were walking at a moderate pace and rather close together. He frowned darkly as he saw Standish rest his hand on the small of Minerva's back and sweep her around the bend in the corridor and out of his sight.

They must be heading for his rooms. That was the only place that they could possibly be heading for down that way. Snape hesitated momentarily; then, with a scowl of annoyance at himself, he picked up his pace and followed them off down the corridor. He caught sight of them as he rounded the corner, just in time to see them round yet another corner and move out of his view once more. Fuming slightly, and trying to stay as silent as possible, he rushed down this corridor as well, to stop and peer furtively around the corner at its end. He hated sneaking around like a guilty student out after curfew.

This time, he saw the two of them standing in front of a door that most probably led to the quarters that had been given to Standish. This was certainly the part of the castle where most of the visiting dignitaries of one sort or another were usually housed. As he watched from his vantage point, Standish opened the door in front of them, and placing a possessive arm around Minerva's shoulders, the man guided her into his rooms with a very smug smile on his face.

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The peace of the library was shattered as Severus Snape slammed into the room and stalked over to Madam Pince's desk. With one of his blacker sneers prominently displayed on his face, he dropped the pile of books from his arms in front of her and declared, "Here are the books you requested that I return to you. I had thought that the library existed for the benefit of the staff and students rather than the other way around. I have need of these texts, and I do not appreciate you summoning them back on a whim."

Irma gaped up at him. Snape was never affable and cheery, but he was usually moderately polite and professional. Something other than books was most likely bothering him, but that didn't give him the right to take it out on her. Fortunately, since dinner was barely over, the library happened to be empty of students at the moment, not that that gave him the right to act in this insolent manner, but it did make it a bit easier for her to react when she didn't have to worry about having an audience.

With all her years of professionalism firmly behind her, Irma stood up to face her rude patron with a well practiced frown of her own. "I don't appreciate being lectured to as if I was one of your more mentally challenged students, Professor Snape. I treat you with the professional courtesy that your position deserves, and I expect you to do the same for me."

He narrowed his eyes, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment without blinking. Then Snape turned away. "My apologies," he murmured between gritted teeth as he struggled to project a more moderate tone of voice. "However, I do need these books at the moment for a project that I am working on. It's at a critical point, and I do not appreciate having my work disrupted this way."

Irma nodded, and the frown on her face faded slightly. "I can understand that, but the fact remains that although professors do tend to have unlimited access to the collection, the student's needs must be met, as well. We are here for their benefit, after all. If you wished to keep these works all to yourself, then it might have been a good idea to refrain from assigning work that would require the use of them," she stated firmly.

A look of chagrin crossed his face. The special projects that his seventh years were working on. One of them would indeed likely require the use of several of these texts. How could he have forgotten that? He snorted to himself. How indeed. Perhaps, if he'd been a bit less distracted, he'd have figured that out for himself and could have simply arranged for his student to see him for the books' use.

"I will see that Mr. Chambers has access to the texts in question whenever he needs them. Will that be satisfactory?" he asked grudgingly.

Suppressing her smile, Irma nodded. "Yes, I'm sure that it will. If Mr. Chambers comes in again looking for them before you've had a chance to speak to him, I will direct him to you."

"Very well." Snape nodded stiffly and picked the books up once more.

As he turned to leave, Irma set her hand on two other books that sat in front of her and called Snape back. "Oh, Professor Snape… Are you seeing Minerva tonight? I know that the two of you sometimes play chess in the evenings. I have a couple of books here that she's been looking for, and I wanted to get them to her as soon as possible."

Snape stiffened and turned a haughty look on the librarian. "No. I won't be seeing Professor McGonagall this evening, and I doubt if she'd thank you to go disturbing her either."

Irma looked surprised. "Oh? Why not?"

"Professor McGonagall is currently visiting Mr. Standish. I don't believe that either of them would wish to be disturbed." His voice was as cold as a winter storm and just as dangerous.

Irma noted Snape's attitude with great interest. Obviously, the man was quite disturbed by what he seemed to be taking as some sort of romantic rendezvous. Should she reassure him? How would he react? Curious, she decided to see.

"Oh dear. Poor Minerva. I know that she's been rather distressed by having to spend so much time with Mr. Standish. She really isn't very fond of him, you know." She lowered her voice confidentially.

Snape stared at her for a moment, while conflicting emotions flitted through his eyes; Irma thought she saw a very brief glimpse of something that could've been relief, but with Snape it was so hard to be sure of anything. "Really? And how do you come to that dubious conclusion?"

Irma smiled comfortingly. "She told me so," she said simply.

With an unblinking stare, the Potions master continued to focus his gaze on her for a further moment. Whatever was going on behind his glittering eyes was a mystery, though the stiff set of his shoulders seemed to relax a bit. His voice, when he spoke again, sounded a bit less harsh. "Well, her feelings are hardly my concern. Goodnight, Madam Pince." He turned away once more and headed off for the library door.

"Goodnight, Professor Snape," Irma called softly. Very interesting indeed.