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 scattered logic for her cherished friendship and all her invaluable help.

Chapter Eighteen: Support Through the Storm

Shaking a light coating of rainwater from her cloak, Minerva entered the castle after her walk and headed for the closet in the entryway. A shower had come up while she'd been walking, and she'd been caught by the leading edge of it before she could get back inside. Although it had been cold outside, it was definitely not quite cold enough to snow just yet, though it would probably be coming any day now. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day, they'd wake to a blanket of white covering the mud and dying grass, but for today it was only cold rain and dark gloomy clouds which suited her mood just perfectly.

When she turned away from the closet after having hung up her cloak, she found herself staring straight into the eyes of Severus Snape as he stood silhouetted in the doorway to the Great Hall, apparently after having just finished his lunch. For a moment, the two of them simply gazed unblinkingly at each other across the open expanse of the entry hall. Irrationally, she found herself wanting to cross the room and bury her face in the front of his robes, seeking comfort and help in his embrace. She could almost feel the warm strength and reassurance that his arms could offer her, but the sheer certainty of his cold and mocking reaction to her admitting to needing or wanting anything from him held her stiffly in place.

His eyes were their usual impenetrable black pools. It was impossible to tell what he might be thinking from his totally blank expression. As she watched him, unable to look away, the thought crossed her mind that they might simply stand there and stare at each other, lost in their own thoughts and each other's glances, for eternity unless something happened to break the spell that time seemed to have woven between them.

Since they were in public, naturally the spell didn't last for long. A few students came up behind Snape and walked past him through the doorway and across the entrance hall heading for the stairs as they gabbled to each other in a friendly fashion. They were followed by Poppy, who called out to Minerva as she crossed the hall herself, brushing easily past the Potions master with a brief smile.

These sounds of normalcy seemed to bring Snape back from wherever he'd been, and he turned away from the object of his attention and stalked off down the corridor heading for the dungeon stairs. A slight feeling of disappointment and loss tugged at Minerva as she watched him walk quickly away from her, and she had to force herself to smile and turn to greet the nurse.

"Hello, Poppy. What can I do for you?" she asked.

Poppy took her arm briskly and turned her towards the staircase. "Actually, Minerva, the question should be, what can I do for you? I was noticing at breakfast how tired and worn out you've been looking. Haven't you been sleeping well?" The nurse's kind eyes swept over her appraisingly with a look of genuine concern.

Taken by surprise, Minerva allowed herself to be led to the stairs and to start up them with the nurse's firm grip on her arm guiding the way.

"Oh, well…no, I haven't been sleeping particularly well lately. Things do tend to get awfully busy at this time of year, but I'm fine, Poppy, really. Thank you for your concern, though."

"Nonsense. This is more than simply a case of being busy. You have horrible circles under your eyes, Minerva, and you've seemed awfully nervous for days. You know, if there's anything that you might need to talk about, I'm always available to listen to your problems. It's part of my job. Why don't you come with me now, and let me give you a bottle of my best restorative tonic. It'll perk you right up again, and you can tell me what's been going on in your life that's keeping you from getting all the rest that you so clearly need." Poppy smiled.

By this time, they'd almost reached the infirmary anyway so Minerva decided that she'd just take the bottle of tonic and leave as quickly as possible. The large, airy room was empty when they entered it, and Poppy guided Minerva right down its length and into her office. Once there, she indicated a chair and turned to rummage around inside a cabinet.

When the matron turned back with a bottle in her hand, Minerva was still on her feet waiting with an impatient expression on her face.

"I really have to be going, Poppy. I have a class to get to. While it's true that I have been having a bit of trouble getting a full night's sleep recently, I don't think it's really anything to worry about. Perhaps I simply need a mild sleeping draught. I'm sure that if I got a night's uninterrupted rest, I'd be fine."

Poppy frowned. "I really think it would be a good idea for you to let me examine you, Minerva. You've seemed to be under more stress than usual lately. I wouldn't want to give you a sleeping draught without trying to make an effort to discover the cause of the sleeplessness first."

Minerva snorted shortly. Oh, she knew the cause of the problem all right, and the last thing she was going to do was talk about it with Poppy. Instead, she forced a smile and said, "I really think that the cause of the sleeplessness is nothing more than having to deal with a full workload, and the extra strain of having a visiting dignitary in the school at the moment. It's nothing to be overly concerned about, I'm sure."

Poppy's eyes gleamed slightly. "Yes, I imagine that Mr. Standish has been taking up quite a lot of your free time, hasn't he? Perhaps spending so many late nights in his company is the source of your tiredness." An eagerness crept into Poppy's expression as she watched Minerva closely.

Oh goodness, how could she have forgotten Poppy's evident interest in Ian? Hoping to cut the conversation short before it drifted into truly uncomfortable waters, she held out her hand for the tonic. "Thank you for the tonic, Poppy, I'm sure that it will perk me right up. Once Ian leaves, things will get back to normal, and that extra strain on my time will be gone. If I'm still having trouble sleeping then, I'll come back and let you give me a thorough examination, I promise. Now, I really do have to go or I'll be late for my class."

Without waiting for a reply, the slender witch took the bottle of tonic from Poppy's hand and, with a final brief smile, turned and left the office without a backward glance.

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The flickering pictures faded to nothingness once more, and Minerva raised her head from the stone box with a sigh. No matter how many times she watched it, she still couldn't make it seem real. Perhaps what she really needed was to see the memories in the actual pensieve, but there was no way that Ian would allow that to occur. He'd never trust her in the same room with his precious evidence, and she could hardly blame him. If their positions were reversed, she wouldn't do it either.

Her mouth thinned to a grim line, and she shook her head firmly. No. That wasn't true. If their positions were reversed, she'd never be stooping to blackmail to get her hands on something that she had no right to in the first place, but then there was a rather fundamental difference between herself and Ian. Which was one of the many reasons why marriage to him had been such hell.

Suddenly, a house-elf appeared in front of the fireplace carrying a rather heavy looking tray. His unexpected appearance surprised her badly and set her heart to racing.

"Scoder, my goodness, you startled me," she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her breast.

Scoder bowed as much as possible with the heavily laden tray in his arms and looked extremely apologetic. "Scoder is so sorry he startled Professor Minerva McGonagall. Please, forgive his intrusion."

With a sigh, she slipped her wand into her pocket and closed the top of her roll-top desk to hide the pensieve copy from view, then she crossed the room to where the house-elf was laying his burden on a small table against the wall where she occasionally took her meals in private.

Indicating the loaded tray with her hand, she asked, "What is all this, Scoder? I didn't ask for anything from the kitchen. I just got back from dinner."

Scoder bowed more freely now that he'd freed himself from his burden and smiled. "This was ordered for you, Professor Ma'am. Scoder was told to say that he hopes you enjoy it." Then with a final bow, the elf vanished.

Minerva eyed the laden table with a worried frown. What now? Carefully, she lifted the silver lid off of a plate of goodies, and sighed with relief. As a knock sounded at the door, she raised her eyes and smiled, calling out, "Come in, Irma. The door's open."

Irma Pince opened the door and entered with a smile on her face. "Oh good, it's arrived. Scoder is one of the more efficient elves, I must say. Trust you to snag a good one, Minerva. Not that there really are any bad ones, I suppose."

Irma closed the door behind her and crossed the room to stand next to her friend. Minerva smiled kindly at her.

"This is very sweet, Irma, but what's it all about?" she asked curiously. "We both just came from dinner."

Waving Minerva towards the chair on the other side of the small table, Irma took a seat and filled a plate with several of Minerva's favorite lemon pastries. Then she set them in front of the puzzled witch and placed one on a plate for herself. Before answering, she began to fill two cups with tea and fixed her friend with a stern frown.

"Yes, indeed, we both did just come from dinner. The difference is that one of us actually ate it, and one of us didn't."

Minerva glanced away guiltily. "I wasn't very hungry."

Irma's frown deepened as she set the teacup firmly in front of her friend. "Don't give me that drivel, Minerva McGonagall, it's not going to work. I've been watching you today. You look as if you're about to keel over from exhaustion, and you haven't eaten anything all day. You did nothing more than push food around on your plate at both breakfast and dinner, and you never made it to lunch, at all. And don't bother telling me that you ate in your office, either. I checked with the kitchen. They haven't sent anything to you all day."

Minerva frowned and opened her mouth to protest. "Irma…"

The librarian raised a hand. "No, I don't want to hear a word out of you until after you've eaten some of these. Dobby told me that they'd just come out of the oven. I know you especially like them when they're warm. So, please, just eat a few, and then we can talk. Okay?"

Minerva let her eyes drop to the soft warm pastries in front of her as they sat there temptingly oozing lemony filling. Suddenly, for the first time all day, she felt famished. So she nodded. "All right. Thank you, Irma. This was very thoughtful."

Irma sipped her tea and smiled a pleased smile. "My pleasure."

For the next few minutes, the room was filled with nothing except the pleasant smell of lemon and a companionable silence broken occasionally by the faint clink of china touching china. While they ate, though, both witches' minds were busily racing in opposite directions. Irma was desperately trying to figure out how to discover what was disturbing her friend so much at the same time that Minerva was attempting to figure out how to keep her secrets to herself, without insulting this friend who'd tried so hard to help her.

Finally, Minerva set her cup down for the last time and gazed happily at her empty plate. "Oh, that was wonderful. I guess you were right, Irma. I was more hungry than I thought."

Irma smiled in return. "You're welcome. Now that you've been refortified, and are no longer in danger of fainting from hunger, will you please tell me what's wrong? You're worrying me to death, you know."

Minerva raised her eyes reluctantly and shook her head. "Really. There's nothing wrong. I've just been horribly busy, that's all…" Her voice faded away as Irma crossed her arms and shook her head in response.

"I'm really getting a little insulted at your estimate of my intelligence, Minerva. Anyone who knows you can tell that there's something wrong." She dropped her voice to a disgusted murmur, "If they're willing to look properly." Then she continued in a louder voice, "Please, can't you let me help? I'm really a very good listener, you know, and I can be very discreet."

"There's nothing that you can help me with, Irma. I…you're right. There is something that's worrying me, but really it's extremely personal, and I just can't tell anyone about it. Not even you. I'm sorry. There wouldn't be anything you could do to help me anyway. I need to figure out what to do on my own."

Irma sighed, unsure how to voice her suspicions. "Are you sure that I can't help? I mean, I already know… That is, I believe…"

Minerva's eyes opened wide in horror. What could Irma possibly know? Surely Ian wouldn't have told anyone else.

"Is it Severus?" Irma blurted out suddenly.

"Severus?" exclaimed Minerva in surprise, as her heart leaped into her throat. Good heavens. What could Irma know about Severus? Oh, surely their arrangement wasn't going to become public knowledge now. Not now that it was all over and done with. That was all she needed on top of everything else. She'd never live it down.

Irma nodded nervously. "Yes. His behavior has been absolutely dreadful lately, worse than ever. This afternoon, he apparently reduced an entire class of first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to tears! He's been stomping around and glaring at everyone as if he's mad at the world for existing."

Oh, thank goodness. Minerva's heart dropped back into her chest where it belonged, but she relaxed too soon she realized as Irma finished her little speech.

"I've been thinking that his problem might be…jealousy." Irma eyed her friend closely.

"Jealousy?" Minerva could feel the heat rising up the column of her throat as she asked, "What makes you think that Severus is jealous? Of what or who?" Her voice faded away. What a preposterous idea.

Irma shrugged. "Well…of you. I think he's…well… I have a feeling that he cares for you more than he'd ever admit. I think he's seeing Ian Standish as a threat to his relationship with you and is disturbed by it, and I thought that maybe that was what was upsetting you. I've noticed him watching the two of you and…" Irma's voice trailed away as Minerva threw back her head and laughed heartily.

Oh, how ironic. That Irma could possibly think this was a case of two men vying for her affection, when the truth of the situation was that each one of them was only concerned with his own well being. Neither cared a whit for her, at all.

"Oh, Irma. I can assure you that Severus isn't the least bit jealous over me."

"Oh," the librarian whispered in a small voice. "Are you sure?"

Minerva sighed heavily and wiped a lingering tear from her eye. "Oh, yes, I'm quite sure. Severus Snape is worried about no one but Severus Snape. Trust me on this. However, if he's truly abusing his students then I'm glad that you brought it to my attention. I will try to make it a point to speak to him tomorrow."

"Okay," Irma said. One theory shot down. Perhaps a second would do better. "Then is Ian the problem?"

Minerva stiffened in her chair, and the smile faded from her face. "Irma, I told you. My problem is personal."

"I know, but I also know that you've been troubled by Ian ever since he first arrived here. He's been pushing himself into your life again. Everyone is aware of it. Subtlety doesn't seem to be something he's very good at."

"No. It never was," exclaimed Minerva tartly.

"Please, are you sure that I can't help you? Even if I can't do any more than listen, sometimes that can be more helpful than you think," Irma pleaded softly.

Oh, the temptation to tell her friend the truth almost overwhelmed Minerva as she listened to the sincere desire to help in the librarian's voice and saw the pleading look in her eyes. Only the thought of the horrified look that would replace it once she discovered that her friend might have actually murdered someone in cold blood stilled her tongue. Irma couldn't possibly understand if she couldn't understand it herself, and the thought of having her turn away in disgust and horror was more than the worried witch could bear.

Minerva dropped her eyes away and stood up. "Please, don't ask me any more questions, Irma. I think it's time for you to leave. I have a fair amount of grading to do this evening, and I should get to it."

Irma got to her feet and sighed. "All right. I won't push you any more."

The two women walked slowly across the room side by side, and Minerva opened the door to her room to let her friend out. Irma paused on the threshold and laid a warm hand on Minerva's arm.

"If you change your mind… If there's anything that I can do…at any time. Please, please, let me. Okay?"

Minerva nodded and as the librarian turned away, she drew her back with a final thought. "Actually, there is one thing you can do for me, Irma."

"Oh? What's that?" she asked eagerly.

"Does the library happen to have any books on pensieves? I need some information on their uses."

Caught off guard by the question, Irma stared at her friend blankly for a moment, then she frowned and considered the question. "Pensieves? Well, I'm not sure. I think we might have something. I'll check and get back to you."

Minerva smiled. "All right. I really do need the information quickly, though."

"Okay. I'll check right away, and if we do, I'll find it and see that you get the book no later than tomorrow. Will that do?"

"Yes, thank you." Then with a final slightly brittle smile, Minerva closed her door quietly leaving a rather puzzled Irma Pince standing thoughtfully in the corridor.