Chapter 13
Bursting through the headmaster's door, Minerva immediately demands, 'What is the meaning of Severus having hold of Hermione Granger's hand this late at night, Albus?'
Close behind her, as he comes to a stop only a step behind where she does, he wonders if his presence here will be something to be acknowledged or not. He's often sat with the two of them without actively being necessary to their conversations, only here and there during those times, and considering that she chose not to drag him here by the cloak, rather ignoring him all the way, he wouldn't be all that surprised if he is to serve as decoration while they have a back and forth concerning him tonight.
'Minerva and Severus,' Albus calmly welcomes while standing up, everything in his voice implying that he doesn't know what could have brought the two of them here.
What a reaction to give, though, he notes, when this late at night, he's still occupied at his desk, dressed in his headmaster robes as though he knew to be prepared for somethinh to happen.
'Answer me,' she demands again, refusing to be momentarily distracted. 'It looks improper. It's inappropriate and would cause the board to have an uproar. Our teaching methods will come into question, and Hermione Granger will no doubt earn the reputation of a loose student.'
Her 'loose student,' comes out an appalled sound of disgust, that way showing her distaste for the possibility, although as far as Albus is concerned, going by his calm demeanour alone, the possibility apparently does not faze him.
'It will not be so, Minerva,' he says with firm confidence, which of course, he would; the man always makes the most intricate of plans, right down to the smallest details.
His assurance does nothing more than vex her, for she angrily asks, 'How can you calmly stand there and not be bothered by how poorly your staff conducts itself?'
'I stand here still, Minerva,' he warns, not at all appreciative of being treated as though he were absent.
And poor in conduct, him?
Displeased, she sharply to him, to just as sharply spit, 'Shush, Severus! I will have words with you following this,' and then returns her face to Albus, to finish with, 'As for you, Albus, answer me!'
'I am not bothered, because I know Severus,' Albus tells her, still maintaining his calmness. 'He is not of the like to do any such thing as have an affair with a student. Listen to yourself, Minerva. You know him better than that.'
Another time, during the day preferably, he would slightly appreciate the confidence in his character, it's only that tonight, put between Minerva's scalding looks and words, and her now assessing him as if to determine the verity of Albus' statement from his state of dress alone, he only wants them to be finished with him and leave him to go back to bed.
'Are you involved with Hermione Granger?' she asks, her eyes dangerously narrowed at him.
Oh, now she would like to talk to him? Didn't she just tell him to shut up while she dealt with Albus?
'No,' he responds only to help move this meeting along.
If she believes that he will divulge any more information than that, then she is completely mistaken. He may still have the lingering effects of the pain potion in his system, but his restraint is still intact enough to know where to touch and where not to. As unconvinced as she looks before turning back to Albus, he can at least commend her for not requiring more than his word, whatever her reason may be.
'Is this true, Albus? Do you know something about them? Is the word about them true?'
Word?
His mind is suddenly on alert as his heart begins a pattern that it really shouldn't be trying at this precise moment, pushing his feet to take a step to her, where he can look her in the eye. His heart, above all other parts of his body that can't, should remain stoic and give nothing away. Just was does it thinks it's doing pretending to be fearful of what his ears could hear?
'What word would that be?' he demands to know in spite of his heart's show, his eyes waiting with forced patience.
'I'm interested to know as well,' Albus supports. 'From whom does this word come, Minerva?'
'Well,' she clears her throat, 'there's been talk of Severus being accommodating where Miss Granger is concerned. Why, even Sybill suggested that he took her to her test. The school has eyes.'
Moving his head in a repetitive nodding motion, Albus agrees with her, saying, 'It has eyes indeed.'
Jolly for the headmaster, that he's nowonly realising that school has eyes, but would he ask the right questions?
'Whose eyes precisely, Minerva?' he asks what Albus won't push to, refusing to let it go before he has his answer. 'Who has been speaking words?'
Words about him. Words about her. And what words have those been exactly? Truthfully, he is counting on it only being Horace, because the students would know better than to start gossip about him that could eventually reach him.
'It is wrong, Albus,' she ignores him to speak to the other man instead. 'He is her teacher and she is young. She shouldn't be defending her teachers for any reason. She cannot look further than her peers for friendships and other associations.'
'She apparently has no interest to,' he says rather sourly; being cast aside like this, on a subject that directly involves him, he is not amused.
Minerva should know that it was not a peer who she wanted to sit next to tonight. Or who she stayed worried about. If she would, Minerva should get the right priorities in the right order, not blindly follow the image that looks most appealing to her in her head.
'Then encourage Severus to look elsewhere,' she sternly directs her answer to his statement to Albus. 'This is no laughing or light matter, Albus. 'As headmaster, you ought to separate and set boundaries between your staff and your students. Keep them from each other for the love of propriety. The governing body does not condone such things!'
'I did,' Albus seems to lament. 'I ended their lessons. I took away what brought him comfort in these difficult times, and they did comply with my wishes. Severus needs comfort the most in these moments, but I took it away from him.'
Derisively, he lets out a short laugh, quite unimpressed by Albus' show of sorrow; now is not the time to play the empathetic part when he couldn't be bothered to listen to his pleas before.
'I remain standing here still, Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress,' he delivers, it being his attempt at shutting down the theatrics before they get out of hand.
'Severus, I swear,' her eyes snap to him, 'if you speak some sentence or other again, you will be severely sore from whatever sordid spell I should choose spew upon you! You shamelessly allowed me to let you take the girl to Muggle London for her Muggle test! How can I trust that nothing happened while there, if you have no propriety to keep your hands to yourself while at the school?'
And sothe theatrics will continue, it seems, and how so very irritating.
'We both returned that afternoon, if you remember correctly,' he calmly reminds her, because on that, he is guilty of nothing.
'Oh, yes,' she nods animatedly, 'I remember quite clearly how you asked me not to appraise Albus of your visit in not so many words. Not that that would have done anything, I now see. He's no better than you!'
Absolutely not! There's a big difference between him and Albus, most of all concerning her.
'There's no comparison-' he begins to say.
'No more, Severus!' she interjects, apparently up to the brim with him saying anything at all.
'But let him speak, Minerva,' Albus tries to defend him, but then suddenly, there materialises a book next to his head.
Slightly confused at first, Albus turns his head to face the rather large book on his side; clearly, he didn't summon it. On the other side watching, he's also in wonder of what is about to happen, but no longer than a moment after returning his eyes to Minerva, curious to see what she means to do with the book, does he hear a dull thud of a sound come from where Albus is. Quickly, he turns back to Albus, finding the man's hand lunging for the book before it completes its full swing to his head.
'Very well, Minerva,' he seems to resign, the book still held up by his own hand and close to his head.
'Don't test me, Headmaster,' she warns him shrilly, finally doing away with the book just by flinging her hand backwards. 'Hermione is but a child. Extraordinary at that. I will not have anyone defiling her while she is under my care.'
The next thud to sound to his ears, is not as dull as when the book knocked Albus over the head, no.
This new thud is louder and quite aggressive to his ears, seeming to reverberate over and over within him.
How dare she!
'Be extremely careful what you refer to me as, concerning her, Minerva,' he issues her the warning, dark in its delivery and very heartfelt. 'I have not, nor will I ever do such a thing as defile her. I am not some filthy rag that will contaminate her.'
Even if he was, he would never wish to do such a thing!
How dare she think of him as less than, as though he doesn't breathe the same air as she does, with the same pair of lungs that she does? She mustn't think herself so superior to him, as though she survives in the world only with one lung less than the rest of wizardkind!
For her part, apparently taken back by his firm stance on this, she looks at him, considering him to the highest of points, and then finally sighing, she looks back at Albus, asking a weak, 'You say that he was happy to teach her?'
To his ears, she sounds disbelieving, as though such a thing would never apply to him, and though he does consider why she would think like that, he isn't all that concerned to hear her confess her disbelief or explain why a question that should be directed to him, is directed to Albus. It's just as well that Albus responds to her with a nod, saving him more thought on the matter.
'He was.'
'Is that to suggest that there had been more to their lessons?'
Magic, this woman's scrutiny!
'Never,' Albus denies at once. 'Neither would ever commit such a thing as you may be thinking, Minerva. Miss Granger values her education, and quite often, the school rules.'
'But how many rules does she break for her friends each year?' Minerva returns, her point very valid, he must note. 'Do well to remember that.'
'I am well aware,' Albus admits, 'however, she was only with Severus tonight, because I sent her there. I believe that Severus was rather just displaying his anger towards me by holding her hand and telling you about it.'
Albus' eyes shift to his, maybe to confirm that he's right in assuming the last part, or looking to communicate to him that he should co-operate with that line of thought, be it true or not. Hmpf! Albus can drown in his own plans, as much as he cares tonight. Did he forget that he put him through pain unnecessarily mere hours before?
'You left her there?!' she shrieks, breaking through his thoughts as she looks from Albus to him. 'If you say and know that he has some regard for her, why did you leave her with him?'
'Albus never said that I have regard for her,' he sourly rebuts.
His exact words were that he was happy to teach her– Minerva shouldn't mix one thing with another, because yes, if she's going to treat him like his presence and word mean nothing, he will most definitely nitpick whatever she says. He's never really ever been above trivial matters.
'Oh, please, Severus!' she cries to him. 'Don't take me for a fool! All the same, why did he leave you with a young female student?'
'It needed to be done,' she's told by Albus, his tone not the least regretful about his method.
Oh, it must be so grand, to have such control over everything.
'But anything could have happened,' she cries even louder than before, suddenly clutching at her heart. If her cry didn't communicate her distress at the idea, that surely does. 'Albus, for goodness' sake, don't you remember how terribly pliant the young heart is? You can't expect a mere child to be immune to matters of the heart and body when placed in tight situations!'
Saying nothing to her, Albus only looks his way and he immediately understands why that is. Without a doubt, the man had been hoping that something would happen between her and him. What with the amount of pain potion that had to be delivered to him, and previous talk of being enraptured to staying on staff, only a fool would dismiss the idea that Albus had placed them well in the belly of temptation, complete with his blessing. He hates the idea that Albus would be so diabolical as to control an intimate part of him in that way, but at this point, as desperate as Albus is, he suspects that anything, of any nature, could come from him at any moment. He does agree with Minerva on that, however, that it was not right to use something like that as a consolation prize – simply as a reward, nothing meaningful.
'Albus…' she tentatively says, perhaps waiting for him to turn to her again. 'Tell me you were not counting on it.'
'I will deny nothing,' he maintains, looking her way at last, and as she gasps loudly, the hand on her chest clutches it even tighter. 'I ask much of him, don't you see? I too grow weary,' he explains himself. 'If it is the one comforting thing that Severus can have, then why deny him?'
'Because it is invaluably incorrect,' she croaks, visibly offended by his very presence. 'You had no right.'
'No, I did not,' Albus solemnly admits. 'You are not a child, Minerva. I do not have to worry about my image being tarnished in your eyes, but do know that time and again, I fall victim to making human decisions. I am desperately willing to rid the world of Tom Riddle, and hopefully atone for my own horrid errors, but in doing so, I might be too hasty to make erroneous decisions.'
'In this way?' she cries, shaking her head as well as she points a shaky finger his way. 'Surely, you could have found some other manner to reward Severus for his service to you. Have you any idea how easily he could manipulate her into a relationship with him? Severus is a great wizard, his influence on her couldn't be stopped by her brilliance.'
'Minerva!' he warns through tightening jaws, for she is touching on accusations that are not characteristic of him - never in his life has he tried to manipulate anyone, cleverly persuade perhaps, but never manipulate.
'No!' she refuses to hear him. 'And excuse me both of you. I cannot stand here and listen to such degenerate accounts any longer. As for you, Severus, do keep your distance from Hermione Granger as of tonight.'
'Allow them to be, Minerva,' Albus tries. 'After tonight, they have nothing more, I assure you. Don't say anything more to the girl and disrupt her. Tonight was enough.'
While she doesn't respond to the advice, she does give him a filthy look, much like he was the rubbish bin itself and shortly, she's turning her back to leave. Only, she doesn't leave. Not in the proper way, at least. She rather suddenly vanishes from sight, leaving only air where her body had stood as her feline form replaces her near his feet. Surprised at her swift transformation, he looks at Albus and in that distracted second of looking away, a loud, angry hiss attracts him back to her, only to find that spot empty. This time confused on how he missed her moving, he turns back to Albus, looking to ask him if he saw where she went, which is how he finds her already leaping a footstep away from Albus – just how fast is she really? – and landing at the base of Albus' robe.
In fast-succeeding movements, she climbs up the front of Albus' robes and going by the wincing sounds coming from him, she's digging deeper than his robes to climb her way up. His own feelings aside, he can't blame Albus' helplessness, to be honest. Minerva's feline speed is too unmatched and her aggression quite pronounced that only another cat, equally adapt to acting like that, would have been able to stop her. In a few seconds more, an enraged hiss escapes her just as a clawed paw strongly strikes Albus's left cheek from the middle of his chest. As he winces his pain at the attack, she claws his other cheek as well, jumping onto his shoulder right after, her claws sinking deep and eliciting an unholy cry of pain from Albus, just before springing off him and landing precisely three footsteps away.
As Albus slumps, succumbing to the pain left on him, she perches herself on her hind legs, bringing her right paw to her mouth to begin chewing on her claws. Quite in awe of her, her tenacity, her ferocity, he watches as she fixes both of her claws between her teeth, and then just like that, she's proudly walking out of the office with her tail in the air as though she didn't just assault her superior. While she disappears, he returns his attention to Albus, silently thanking no one in particular that she didn't choose to attack him as well.
'Oh, dear,' Albus meets him with, a small laugh in his tone. 'She's quite furious.'
If fury looks like three deep claw lines on both of his cheeks, then yes, he would say that she is furious. He says nothing, however, he only watches the other man bring out his wand and mend himself on every place that she left damage. Once he's in order, he runs his hands over his robes, smoothing them before gesturing to the open chair at his table, offering him a seat.
'You are better, I see,' he comments as he moves to take his own seat.
'We are finished, are we not, Headmaster?' he replies, not moving from his spot. 'I have done as you asked. I am doing as you asked, and I will continue to do as you ask. Unto my death.'
There should be no pretence; outside of Minerva bringing him here, he has no reason to be here really, neither does he want to be here any bit. Albus is, after all, the man who caused him unnecessary pain earlier tonight, with the intent to serve a purpose in his ill-conceived plan. He will not say that he resents the move, but neither will he deny that he cannot stand to be alone with Albus at the moment.
'I know, Severus. The sacrifices that you make, I am very aware of. Your lessons are one of them.'
'Wonderful to know,' he drawls, honestly not in the mood to listen to the man talking about his 'value' in all of this.
'I am so very sorry, Severus,' he is empathetically told. 'If the circumstances were different, you would have been able to keep them. But forgive me, for tonight most especially.'
Tonight. Hmpf!
Nothing would have happened tonight, no matter how convinced Minerva is that tight situations make room for untoward behaviour. Although still slightly intoxicated by the pain potion, he is saved by the fact that he's been under the influence before and has since mastered the art of keeping his mind intact despite it. In his experience, the strongest are those who have weapons and choose not to use those weapons, those who know how to restrain themselves instead of unhinging themselves.
Of course, he won't deny that he'd felt a pull to her at some points, first wanting to pull her to him and keep her there, and then pull her to lie next to him as per the headmaster's plan, or that last time when she exposed her skin to him, filling him with the need to feel it there, but he always knew that he couldn't do any of those things. In his right and sober mind, he wouldn't simply have done so just because he could, so why would he have allowed himself to do it when he was a little under the influence?
'You were out of line tonight,' he finally confesses.
'But will you stay? We could compromise to giving her one supervised lesson a week,' the headmaster presents the bargain and that precisely, stings him to the core.
Precisely because of that, he wants to leave.
'You cannot dictate my dealings with her, Albus,' he grinds out, closing his eyes as a buffer against his rising anger. 'That is neither yours nor the Dark Lord's duty to interfere in. Whatever else you have claim to, thatis my own relationship. It was formed as it formed, but through my independent decisions. I will not allow you to teach me when I can smile with her, or when I ought to keep my distance.'
As an employed teacher, he will do as he is instructed and expected to do. Even as a member of the Order, he will take his tasks as they are presented, however, concerning her, considering all the swerving that he's had with her, all of the times that he's had to return to her and mend things, he will not be dictated by anyone. Not even the Dark Lord, he swears.
Oh, if he were able to morph into a cat right now…
Since he doesn't have that ability, he instead opens his eyes to stare at the man, wondering just how much longer he has to wait until Draco has pulled up his socks enough to make his proper attempt.
'If not the lessons,' Albus continues as though nothing of importance was just said, 'then at least on the premises, you will be able to see her in passing. Consider it, Severus. If you regard her so, surely you would be glad to see her in passing.'
But damn it, this man understands nothing!
His mind cannot see past his own superiority and plans!
Like this, he'd get nowhere agreeable with the headmaster.
'Excuse me, Albus,' he decides to take a page from Minerva's book, finding that he too can no longer stand to listen to such decay. 'I need to rest.'
'I haven't filed your letter to the board yet,' Albus calmly tries. 'I need you now more than ever. Without you, I am a knight down. I only have you and Harry as my knights, as you well know. I cannot ever finish to tell you how significant you are to this fight. I beg you, Severus, please stay.'
'Goodnight, Albus,' he dismisses, just then turning his back on the man and making his way out.
Albus should only be thankful that at least this time, there's no cat to leave him with pain that he deserves.
26Chapters
Sleep doesn't want him anymore tonight, it seems.
Perhaps because she had been here, right in that chair, sitting by his side and holding onto his hand while he slept, sleep isn't interested in him now that she no longer is. Perhaps because his hum of magic isn't as delicate as hers is, to enchant the air around him enough into summoning sleep itself, sleep won't come close to or next him.
He cannot be displeased with that, however; toss and turn as he might continue to do after periods of time.
On the contrary, as much as he felt that he wasn't missing a thing when she was here, to now doing so when she isn't, he isn't displeased with sleep keeping away from him. If the truth is told, if this is the reason, then he could go without sleep even for a few days, soft pain touching him inside or not.
It's not the sleep, in any case.
It's the underlying knowledge that if he chose to, he could go and bring her back to him. In fact, if he was to be particularly callous about it, he'd send word for Dumbledore to fetch her himself and bring her to him.
And then, somewhere within that knowledge, is the understanding that he severely underestimated just how imprinting any small thing concerning her can be, thus opening him up to see just what Albus is wary about.
If he doesn't proceed with caution from this point onwards, he's surely going to ruin himself.
26Chapters
One day, he'll have to tell Lefa to wake him instead of simply staring him to awaken. He never truly does mind the elf giving him the grace to awaken, it's only that the idea of being waited upon while he is unconscious does not sit well with him these days – he's beginning to develop a distaste for it as of late.
'What is it?' he asks, straightening in bed.
'Professor, sir,' Lefa bows, 'she wants to know if she can come to your office now.'
She.
The corners of his mouth begin to turn up as he considers Lefa's way of addressing of her. He answers by way of a nod, giving the creature both the permission to leave and the go-ahead to communicate with her about her request.
She, he thinks again, swinging his legs from bed.
Why is it that like him, Lefa rarely refers to her by name?
He at least, has the very fitting reason that calling her Miss Granger would be too formal after all they've done in each other's presence until, but what excuse does Lefa have? Were he Lefa's proper master, he would understand the respect in mimicking his master, but he isn't that. What's more, had he not discovered that she knew Lefa personally, he wouldn't have thought any more of him than simply being another Hogwarts elf. That isn't important, though, not in the face of knowing that soon, she'll be knocking on his door. Freshly inspired by that thought, he begins to prepare himself, neither slowly, nor in a rush, just at the right pace.
Soon, he's dusting his cloak off, passing through the floo and heading straight for the door. Opening it, she's waiting there as expected, the bag on her shoulder being the surprising thing to him, as he hadn't allowed himself to wonder why she would need to come to his office on a Saturday morning. And then her tied hair, that surprises him as well, sending a deep shot to his heart as he's rather suddenly taken back to ancient times when she'd come to him for lessons.
'You had to come so early in the morning?' he raises to her waiting face.
'Good morning, Professor,' she replies with instead, offering him a small smile. 'Are you better?'
'I've recovered,' he nods, stepping back to allow her entry.
'I'm glad,' she says, moving further past him.
Because he is unsure of what to expect from her, he doesn't close the door just yet. He follows her into the room rather, watching her intently as she looks around as if looking for something. If she would ask, he would tell her about she's looking for, she mustn't just try to do everything for herself while here.
'What are you looking for?' he finds himself asking, apparently too impatient to wait for her.
It's like she had been waiting for that, the way that she suddenly spins around and faces him fully. And that testing, unsure, almost up-to-something smile? He doesn't suppose that it's meant convince him that she's innocently here with no cause.
'Can I stay here?' she lets out quickly, seeming to hold her breath in waiting afterwards.
Her question catches him off guard, so unexpected it is, that though his place is to ask her why, especially after last night with Minerva and Albus' ban, does she think that she can freely spend her morning in here with him, he only raises his eyebrows at her.
'I know that –' she begins to say, but before she can complete her words, a loud, quite frantically called 'Severus' sounds from outside the door.
He instantly recognises the voice as Sybill's, just as quickly and silently thanking her for her dramatic flare, which is affording him a little head start.
'Come,' he lunges for her arm, but his eyes are already calculating the distance between them and the floo.
It's too far, he decides, opting – with an annoying tick within his nerves, might he add, to all roughly pull her with him to the secret room which is much closer than the floo. Three long steps that way, a finger stroke in the right place and a hasty push on her small body shoves her barely inside the wide open door, just as another, closer-sounding 'Severus' reaches his ears.
'Quiet,' he barely whispers to her questioning eyes, but if she were to ask him why he's doing this to her at all, he wouldn't be able to give her an answer.
All he knows is that he heard Sybill's voice and strangely, his mind's natural reaction was to keep her from sight. As such, he tips his head back, that way urging her to move backwards so that he can close the door, except at that very moment, Sybill appears in his doorway.
How wonderful, he sighs internally, his hand coming back to his side before he is caught in the act.
'Severus, thank goodness,' she cries hysterically, quickly coming in to meet him.
Driven by panic, he walks to meet her before she reaches here and curiously pokes her head to look inside. Oh, that would be a sight, Sybill coming face to face with one of the students that she doesn't get along with. As dramatic as Sybill can be, he will not take away that she happens to be perceptive when it's least expected, and by magic, he still has no idea why he doesn't want Sybill to find her with him.
'Is something chasing you? A ghost, perhaps?' he asks, his steps leading him closer to her and when they're face to face, both of them come to a halt.
'No, it's Minerva! What have you done to her?'
He swears, the way that she says it, one would think that she was attacked, managed to escape before the attack progressed, and is now running for her life. But then again, after last night, Minerva might just be on her way to duel with him as payment for the error that she believes him to have committed. Just in case, he takes a look at the lower part of the door in search of a cat. When he finds nothing, his eyes return to Sybill with somewhat eased nerves.
'I've done nothing to her,' he tells her, making sure to sound convincing.
'Well, you must have done something to her!' her head shakes in emphasis, her eyes going wider than he's ever seen them go. 'She's been to see me this morning. You know what Horace told her, don't you?'
'No.'
'You know how he tends to be around Minerva!' she dramatically delivers. 'Thursday night, they shared a drink with me and he mentioned how that poor ungifted girl defended you. He made a show of it, I tell you. Minerva's quite passionate about it this morning! She asked me what I know and about my recommendation!'
'Your recommendation?' he asks as though he didn't hear about it, but just then, Albus rounds through his door, taking his attention away from Sybill, but not without pulling a heartfelt sigh from him.
Someone tell him, just how many more of these surprises is he to take this morning? Was it because he failed to attend breakfast, or does it have something to do with the one shoved away in his secret room? He shouldn't dare to chance a look over there, should the last possibility turn out to be the one.
'Headmaster,' he says, causing her to face the door as well.
'Headmaster,' she notes almost disinterestedly, immediately returning to him to finish what she had been saying. 'I suggested that you take that girl to her test. I couldn't have taken her. I'm horribly overwhelmed by Muggles. Without magic, they're filled with signs and omens wherever I go. Your aura was better suited for taking her than me. I could never survive well in the Muggle world.'
A small shudder accompanies the last of her sentence, her mind no doubt placing her in that situation. Thankfully, Albus swooping in to them, stops him from responding to her, only, Albus brings with him a wave of apprehension which hits his nerves quite forcibly.
What is wrong with this morning? How should he handle this?
'And you won't have to, Sybill,' Albus tell her with a smile. 'Hogwarts will always need your expertise. But could I ask that you give me a moment with Severus?'
'Oh! Of course, Headmaster,' she nods and with one last look at him, she leaves.
As Sybill disappears, Albus closes the door after her, to the accelerating of his heartbeat unfortunately.
Now, with that, he doesn't know whether he is being trapped or it's purely all a coincidence. Does he expose it and give her away, showing them that he is onto their plot, or does he carry on as though nothing and save exposing himself? What is certain to him, is that he will not do anything without seeing where Albus takes him first. He will wait a moment, allowing Albus the floor.
'Forgive the morning intrusion, but we do need to conclude this, Severus. Could we talk?'
'Shall we step into my sitting room?' he offers.
It's that she's in the connected room, well within earshot. He won't be as careless as to look that way, lest Albus notices, but on the other hand, he is against the idea of her hearing anything from Albus' mouth.
'In here is fine,' the other man politely declines, shaking his head for emphasis.
Really, if this isn't a test, it sure must be a variation of it. Just Albus moving over to a seat says how unlikely it is that he persuades himself out of this current predicament.
'I can't offer you anything in here,' he tries again, hoping that he doesn't sound as desperate as he is.
'It's all right,' Albus maintains. 'I only need to understand something. Of the many other things, I especially couldn't help it wonder about Miss Granger.'
Wonderful. Simply wonderful.
This is unbelievable now.
What's perhaps worse about all of this, is that he cannot continue to insist without giving himself away. There's no way to get close the door without arousing suspicion, neither can he get a message to tell her to close her ears to any of their conversation. He's left with no choice but to sit and engage Albus, it appears.
'What of her?' he asks as evenly as possible, making himself comfortable as possible, despite his discomfort.
This whole situation is a joke!
She's really not to hear about herself from his point of view, least of all in a setting where he'll be forced to be honest in some way.
'What is it about her?'
'You didn't approve of the lessons, Albus, and as such, I find myself reluctant to share that with you.'
In truth, concisely, the true answer to that is private. However, nobody said that he couldn't try and evade the question.
'Indulge me, Severus. It's intrigue. Simply that.'
'Does it matter to you?' he icily asks in return.
Still, he's not backed enough into a corner to speak about it. Besides, he hasn't thought about it from the perspective that Albus is asking from and as such, he should like it very much if he wasn't forced to confront himself in front of Albus.
'It does,' Albus answer, nodding thoughtfully, 'believe it or not. There are many, many things which I have wondered about concerning that. I had rather imagined that she would grow out of her liking for young Mr. Weasley, for one, and then move on to meet someone at a later stage in her life. But it seems that you have done something to steer her attention to you.'
'What else will you accuse me of? I gather that bewitchment is not your limit this morning,' he presents, deliberately letting out an offended scoff.
'Mine are not accusations, Severus. You look to offend me for no cause. It's merely a search for understanding,' he is evenly told. 'I cannot give you what you want if I don't know it.'
'Miss Granger is a capable witch,' he deflects. 'Understand that I couldn't have bewitched her. Neither did I do anything to trap her into returning -'
All right, yes, at an earlier point, at the very beginning really, he'd set a trap for her with the intention of using it against her later on, but even that form of entrapment came to an end when their lessons came to an official end some weeks back.
'- I gain no information from teaching her. If you're perhaps wondering if I use her to secretly gather information on Potter, you are mistaken. Our lessons sadly did not revolve around the primordial, ever-important Potter.'
'There is no need to tell all that to me, Severus. I did not question your loyalty. I suppose that in my last moments, I only want to know this one thing about you. I am aware that I did you a terrible thing, and handled it even poorly, but know that I am consumed by guilt for it. I can only beg that you do not leave, Severus.'
'Just what have I done, that you feel threatened by my leaving, Albus?'
For a quiet moment, Albus looks at him, giving the appearance of studying him for something. While Albus does that, his mind drifts back to her in that small room, attempting to picture how she is in there. Is she pressing her ear to the wall to hear better, or is she using an amplifying spell to carry their voices over to her. With her curiosity, anythi -
'Emotions are a powerful thing,' Albus speaks at last. 'It's the reason that love can fight against the darkest of magic. Why the Imperious curse can be overcome. Why magic exists. Emotions, when another person is involved are even more powerful and so I fear, yes, even now, what you could become and what you could forsake.'
That Albus would even consider that a possibility...
'He killed her!' he bursts, his nerves touched to the very last end. 'I would never have lost focus for her sake.'
'Perhaps,' Albus agrees, only, he adds a tentative, 'however, I witnessed another possibility that night – '
Without warning, his whole body stills at the reminder, a strange sort of fear beginning to run over his skin, possibly visible on his face, thus cutting Albus from finishing that sentence, to rather hold up his hand in protest.
'It was not right,' he accepts, 'but I saw it nonetheless. It was interesting, your reaction to the second image, I noticed. Your stop said much more than your repetitions with the first image. I am largely surprised by that. You never cared for such things before, Severus -'
Magic! What a stretch of a reach, and falsely incorrect as it is! He is human, is he not? Does he not have the same tendencies that the base human has? Has he no need to eat, to use the bathroom, to acquire certain knowledge and things? Then what of his base human make-up makes Albus certain that he never cared for human relationships?
'-You were hardly moved by any of that sort of thing.'
'Did I not come to you to help protect the Potters?' he asks with as much offence as was aroused in him.
'You misunderstand me. I merely find myself unable to see where she made the change in you based on what you've displayed before. I have known you since you were a boy, remember Severus. Your actions have been even throughout, but suddenly, you give her access to your time. Time, which, may I remind you, I have previously wrangled you for concerning other students for similar reasons.'
Albus is a nosy old man, who wants to know things that do not concern him, that is what he thinks. If he were so willing to tell anyone about the change in him, it would be her, but even she would have to pester him until his teeth turned white on their own. If Albus is bored to this extent of nosiness, he should go and kick stones to help him pass the time leading to his death, because he will not hear anything concerning her coming from his mouth. And really, does he expect an answer? Even throughout the years that they've known each other, he's never discussed Lily with him; what makes him think that now would be any different?
'You are not going to tell me, are you?' Albus seems to resign to the fact.
'Need I remind you that you intruded on a private moment before? Didn't you see enough then?'
Also, he is rather still resentful that he put an end to the lessons when they were doing nothing wrong within them.
'Very well, I shall not push on that. I should rightfully afford you your privacy. We are at an impasse, however, I will continue to ask that you to forgive me at least before I die. I prefer to leave this world knowing that we are on good terms.'
Honestly, he doesn't want to, but the very specific detail remains that he does care about Albus. His connection to Albus is like an invisible cord tied around him and try as he might, he cannot untangle from him. Even the blazing fire of his own fury didn't burn that cord away from him. How he hates that he has feelings - they can be so weakening.
'Severus?' Albus gently urges, inadvertently reminding him that in the end, he will need to forgive him; for the sake of his soul, he will need to do away with his current malice.
'I will,' he finally agrees, because eventually, he will have to.
It's a hard thing to think about at the moment, but he is capable of doing it. In the end, deep down, he understands that Albus is only a desperate man who's afraid of things going astray once he is dead.
'Thank you, Severus,' the other man appreciates, getting up from his chair and coming around to grasp his shoulder. 'But one more thing... I'd also wondered whether you have considered the danger of her position in your life?'
'Such a thing doesn't exist,' he stiffly replies at once.
Her position in his life, he means. He has no title to give her, thus, she has no position in his life. The notion itself is mad.
'Consider it,' the testing advice comes through a smooth tone. 'Among your comrades might be a few who would wish to use her to harm you. Surely you grasp my reasoning.'
Swallowing first, he then rises to get away from Albus' light touch, suddenly not liking it and maintaining that, 'There's no danger for her.'
As if she would ever be in a position to be used against him.
While she is within this castle, she's perfectly safe from his supposed comrades, and outside of the castle, she isn't his to lose or be attacked with.
'As you say,' Albus accepts, his tone low and unconvinced. 'We've concluded this then, haven't we, Severus?'
'Of course,' he nods, understanding the depth of the matter, which apparently was all that lacked for Albus to be on his way and out through the door, leaving it open.
With forced patience, he waits for a little more, not wanting to move too fast in case Albus doubles back. In a little while, though, his patience runs out, leading his feet all the way to his secret room and stepping in, he presses one of his fingers to his lips, silently pleading with her to remain as she was. Thankfully understanding him, she nods and in silence, they look at each other; he, waiting for adequate time to pass and assure him that Albus won't make an appearance, and she, thinking only she knows what. Only once he's satisfied enough with the passed time, does he drop his finger.
'You heard?' he cautiously asks, to which she nods, prodding him to follow up with, 'All of it?'
Her answer is another nod, but he won't ask what she understood or gathered from what she heard. Being who she is, she's bound to ask him about it soon enough, and besides, he at least has solace in the fact that nothing of significance was deeply discussed, especially not his threat to resign.
'Do you still wish to stay?' he wants to know in the absence of her saying anything.
Again, as though her ability to speak has been taken from her, she nods, a slight smile appearing on her face, touching him to accept her decision with a nod as well, settling the matter with no hassle. From that, she adjusts the bag on her shoulder to walk out into his main office. In silence, he follows and watches her go on to take the seat that once belonged to her each night, pulling out two of her books onto his tale. Looking at her, he wonders if she could she behave more in place than that. He understands her familiarity with his office, but that's all? She's not going to say anything to him? Well, whatever's brought her here, he'll sit back and wait for it to come; he has the time to do it. It's after a long while, when she's deeply immersed into reading and writing, a long stretch after he's managed to relax in the assurance that Albus won't return, that his curiosity reaches its peak.
'Did your Head of House give you a hard time?'
Confused, she looks up, but soon changes her expression to relax as their eyes meet and she answers him with a dismissive, 'I haven't seen her today.'
As soon as he nods, accepting what she said, she surprises him by going right back to her books. Why is she only seated there without pressing him for an explanation? Can she really not be curious? It's wonder, that, but even so, he says nothing, he only continues to watch her. That is until his curiosity tugs at him again.
'Why aren't you asking about what you heard?' he wants to know, tilting his head a little bit.
'I didn't come here to bother you,' she replies without looking up. 'I only wanted to be here.'
She –
He was unprepared for that.
Perhaps that is why his throat is closing in, tightening against his will and constricting his breaths. Why perhaps, somewhere inside him, he weakens more than he ever has in his life. And perhaps why, his head knows to advise him not to ask her anything else again, lest his body comes apart at her response. But, despite his inability at the moment, it should be known that this is the best that he's liked her so far. He likes her at her usual, insistent self, but her, only here, not bothered to impose herself on him but rather defy school authority and remain where he is, is his favourite so far.
26Chapters
Precisely two Saturdays ago, she was in his office, simply sitting inside there. He sat opposite of her, allowing her to go about her work without disturbing her. With the exception of the one point during their time, that he stood up with the intention to fetch a particular book from his sitting room and she looked up at him in alarmed protest, he didn't do anything to upset her stay. Despite that small disturbance, which he quickly rectified, he, for one, thought they got on splendidly. She kept her word, simply being there in proximity with him for no ulterior motive, and he did nothing to upset her, or make her uncomfortable for that matter.
His mind now, remembering that very clearly, simply cannot welcome this new replacement image of her now clinging onto Potter's arm, while sniffling and sorrowfully looking over Weasley in bed as though he were dead, and nothing could be done to ease her sorrow about it, except hold onto Potter's arm. Simply seeing it happen before his eyes, is an experience quite unholy and tainting to the previously serene image that he had of her, that he finds himself letting out a loud scoff of annoyance to help him fight off the pique knocking on his soul.
'Settle yourself or leave, Miss Granger,' he follows up with, deliberately keeping his eyes on Weasley and his wand moving over the red hair.
'Will he wake up soon?' she returns, her voice a familiar tone of concerned.
That exact tone, he heard only two Fridays ago, so very close to him and lulling to his aching nerves, knowing that for a change, he had someone there who was truly invested in whether he was in pain or not. She'd stayed close to him, sitting next to his legs and later sitting in his bed, all the while asking if she could do something to ease his pain in that tone, and now to hear it while she's hanging onto Potter, he can't tame his head and eyes away from snapping up to her.
'Won't he?' she instantly meets his eyes with, and damn it, why does she have tears in her eyes!
Also, damn Potter for that matter! Why is he doing nothing but standing there and simply allowing her to hold onto him? In fact, has she no shame? Why ask him anything at all, if her comfort is coming from Potter? Surely, Potter would assure her better than any word that he ever could tell her.
'He's not dead,' he tightly returns, swiftly shifting his stare to Potter.
'We know he's not dead,' Potter is fast to answer. 'The bezoar saved him.'
And what does the boy think he's doing? Impressing him with a response that any first year could have been expected to know?
He silently challenges Potter, nonetheless, pulling a face that's guaranteed to show the boy just how entirely useless he is in this room – not even able to assure her that their friend will be fine. For a second, he looks at her only to see if she's still as attached to Potter as though he wasn't the one called in here in a rush to attend to her other friend, but finding that her tears haven't dissolved, he turns back to Potter - someone ought to pay for the conflict within him.
'You -!' he begins, but all of a sudden, he's cut off by a shrill cry calling, 'Won-Won!' much like the world were ending.
Sincerely uninterested to watch the commotion that's comings towards them in loud and fast splattering footsteps, he aims to return his attention to the unconscious boy in bed, although in turning his head, his eyes mistakenly find her face, thus observing as it changes appearance to rather look bothered and a little miffed, he'd say.
Could that possibly mean what he thinks it means?
Come to think of it, she was quite quick to leave his bedside that Friday night, quickly accepting to, as soon as he suggested that he take her back home. She didn't insist on staying then, never tried to convince him to stay a little longer either, and that right after slipping her hand out of his, apparently tired, but here she is, making that expression? She never even gave Minerva that look when she separated them.
How is he supposed to take this? Could it mean that Minerva was right about her peers after all?
26Chapters
Much to the fading of his patience, he had to remain put until he's given the headmaster proper assurance of the boy's safety. The headmaster will, after all, need to send word to his family about the incident, and surely, he cannot send bad news without some form of hope to accompany it. When Albus arrives with Minerva at last, their hushed tones wafting closer, his vexation flares up with an intensity that it hadn't carried before, even making him expel an exaggerated sound from his mouth.
Hearing that, Horace sharply turns to him, just as Potter on the other side of the bed sends him a questioning look, but to the gutter with both of their reactions, he cares nothing at all about what they're wondering about him. Had she acknowledged his presence by looking up along with them, he'd have been inclined to spare some care, some awareness even. His main concern as it is, is only to wonder where Albus was, that he's only making his appearance now? What makes him show up precisely now, after everything has already passed? What prevented him from arriving not that far behind Miss Brown, so leaving him free to be on his way before any of the madness that took place could find him here?
Does Albus know that for his arrival's sake, he's had to keep his place as Miss Brown harshly scolded her roommate for always being around her boyfriend and throwing herself at him? Could Albus possibly have wanted him to be present when she made a spectacle of herself by roughly peeling herself away from Potter's arm, pushing Miss Brown out of the way, and moving too fast to Weasley's bedside to take his hand into hers as she sighed his name in response? Who ever said that he wanted to stand by and watch a foolish, quite appalling, unbefitting display from her, looking on as she resembled Miss Brown in how she comported herself?
Even now, she's no shame, not letting go of Weasley's hand, clearly not that much interested in the two Heads' arrival. Or perhaps her aim is to make a spectacle of herself in their presence. Knowing her, the overachiever that she is, she simply wouldn't be content with displaying herself to only a select few, no, everyone must always bestow her brilliant performance. Worse still, with Albus approaching, he can't do anything to reprimand her to behave respectably, because Albus will find a way to interpret it in a way that fits his own arguments later on. However, he can use one thing about Albus to his advantage.
'I've left Poppy my entire report,' he turns around to meet the approaching man.
'Thank you, Severus,' the man acknowledges his meaning, soon finding a spot to stop and look towards the students on the other side. 'Harry. Miss Brown. Miss Granger. I trust that you are all well.'
Of course, the mention of her name leads him to look at her, which is how he notes her looking up to nod at Albus as her peers grumble their responses.
'What do you think, Severus?' Minerva asks him, taking his attention away from her to the older woman.
Oh, look at her! She must think that she is so clever! She mustn't for a moment think that he doesn't realise her glee at her preferred student's amorous display for her 'peer.'
'Harry Potter was involved,' he sourly lets out. 'Should I say anything else? His pattern for misfortune hasn't changed since he arrived in this school.'
'It was a bottle meant for Horace,' she reminds him. 'It's no fault of his that his friend suffered.'
'Don't bring it up again, Minerva. I do feel most terribly for being responsible for his condition,' Horace darkly mumbles.
'No one blames you, Horace,' Albus chimes in while finishing up his study of the unconscious boy.
'I meant about Mr. Weasley, Severus,' she clarifies. 'How soon before he is on his feet again?'
'Soon,' he answers, even knowing how unacceptable of an answer it is, 'and unless my presence will make any difference here, I will be leaving. Headmaster?' he finishes, looking to him for the permission to excuse himself.
'Of course,' Albus grants him, although there's something about his eyes in her direction that makes him look that way. 'Take heart, Miss Granger,' he gently tells her. 'I trust that Professor Snape has done everything to help your dear friend. He will be perfectly fine within a few days.'
Nodding to what she was told, she then looks at him with a distinct air of hope that touches him much too uncomfortably. It's the idea that she only has interest in him when it has to do with her friend and nothing else, that makes him turn away from her, from the bed entirely next, stepping away from the lot of them, seeing as his part is over. Should the headmaster need him for something specific, he knows where to find him, because even he has his limits. If she can't even plead for him to do something for Weasley, knowing very well that he is well versed in the art of healing and combating the dark arts, then he is not needed here.
