"Headmaster, he is awake."

"Very Good poppy. Has he said anything yet?" Dumbledore walked down the teacher section of the infirmary, and towards the potion master's bed. It was still concealed by the light blue curtains, but the silhouette of the Slytherin prince was visible, and he was sat up.

"Yes, he insisted two things. And refused to take the drought I have for him until he is 'appeased', as he said."

"And what are these two requests?" Albus stopped just short of the bed, and made sure to speak softly. He didn't want Severus to interrupt them, when he could get a warning what to expect here and now, before having to confront his bad tempered friend.

"The first demand, was that you were to be sent for, immediately."

"Well I am here, so that is a start. And the second?"

"…that Professor Consensio was also to be sent for…immediately."

"Alas, the one request I can not permit. She is in a very fragile state, and I had intended to confront you about it." He sighed. "I fear for her Poppy. She has not left her room since the event, and consumed no food or drink. Dear Nymphadora reports that she has stopped crying, but now there are no signs of life from the room at all. I fear, I shall have to consent to a forced entry into her quarters, and have her removed to the infirmary."

"I should say so! Poor girl, she looked terrible when she ran out of here, nothing was going to stop her. Not even myself." Poppy took a deep breath, and walked forward. "Time to check on our potions master. Professor Snape?" she asked for permission to enter, and the tall silhouette turned his head to the curtain. "Professor Dumbledore is here now. Are you in a fit state to see him?"

"Yes." His voice was blank, giving nothing away or any implication on what mood he was in. "And Mss Consensio?" If it wasn't for the fact that this was Snape, that sounded almost hopeful.

"Ah…no."

"What?" he answered sharply. Poppy took a step back, and turned to face Dumbledore. He nodded for her to tell him why, and she did.

"Professor Consensio has refused to leave her room. She escaped herself only two days ago, against my best wishes, and has barricaded herself in her quarters. She is in quite a dangerous state." She added, frowning. She had taken an oath to preserve life, and it seemed as if this one was slipping away from her…

"What did you mean by that?" he said, even sharper than before. It made Poppy jump. Again Albus nodded, and Poppy obliged him.

"She hasn't eaten or drank anything for days. We are going to use force to bring her back to the infirmary, as we can only dread the state she will be in when we find her."

"Severus?" Albus spoke before Snape could reply. "May I come in my boy?"

"Yes." Again his voice was blank, and Albus pushed the curtains open. He slipped inside, and Poppy left them to it. She knew well enough not to get involved unless the patient's health was in danger. And from the tension she felt in the air, this was one of those times to listen from behind the curtain.

Albus took his half moon glasses off, and cleaned them on his robes near his chest.

"Now my boy, how are you feeling?" Albus replaced his spectacles, and looked to Snape. He was dressed in his black robes again, as he detested the hospital gowns. Although, he had his long billowing outer robes on the side chair, and his long hair was greasy and lank once more. That was a combination of potions, and being ill, as it were.

"How am I feeling?" he folded his arms, and looked as if he was about to approach the simple question with the same approach as he did to everything.

With malicious style. "Is that all you can say, headmaster?" he leered. "I am physically fit if that is what you mean."

"Good, because-"

"But." He interrupted, and Albus saw he would have to ride this one out.

Severus Snape was on a rampage, and there was no where to hide. "But I have a few questions for you myself, Albus."

Oh boy.

"I have been the most influential, beneficial asset to this faculty, giving my sweat, blood, loyalty and life to this school, to you, and have performed tasks that could wake the dead." He slowly rose to his feet. "I have been working for you both in, and out of school for centuries. I have reported every single detail of every single mission, report, collected item, Intel and interpretation on everything I have ever done of significance to not only yourself, but to the rest of the 'staff' and those snivelling fools at the ministry." His voice was filled with his famous venom, and his voice also started to grow louder with pent up frustration and anger. "I have risked my life and position year after year both necessarily, and unnecessarily for YEARS!" he glowered, his head of greasy hair falling to veil his furious face. "The dark lord, the wizard war, the death eaters, the ministry itself, HELL!" his knuckles grew a bleach white from how tight his fists were clenched. "Even against that damn three headed mongrel 'fluffy', of that over sized Neanderthal of a care of magical creatures' teacher 6 years ago, because YOU couldn't hire one trustworthy defence against the dark arts teacher! When I had already put forward a request for the position, and shafted me for not only a dark lord sympathiser." He was livid. "But the Dark lord himself! I think, after all I have been through, after all I have done for you and the Wizarding world." He looked up, to angry to look at Albus. "For even poor, little, Harry Potter, you would think." He held the arch of his nose, and put the other fist on his side. "You would think you would have had the common sense and the decency to inform me not only that the wolf was being hired." He paused. "Again." He grit his teeth. "But that you had taken it upon yourself to hire a God damn BANSHEE as the none-verbal, and Wandless magic's teacher. Wouldn't you agree!" he shouted, with his glower that made even Draco gulp, and in his voice that makes Neville want to cry.

And has. "Well?" he seethed, waiting for the Headmaster to reply.

Albus sighed, glad the storm was over, but ready for him none the less. You didn't live to be Dumbledore's age, and live through the things he has, without learning to forget fear and know what you are doing.

"Well Severus, that is a very good question. And I intend to answer it." Albus pushed his spectacles up his nose, and smiled softly at his enraged 'friend'. "Firstly, everyone was informed on Mss Consensio's background, before we even considered accepting her application. We then re-evaluated our choice before sending off the acceptance letter, on a second meeting." He slipped one hand into his robes, and slowly disarmed the potion master, bit by bit. "You would have been aware of this fact, that I and the rest of the faculty had 'taken it upon ourselves to hire a Banshee', if you had attended both or even one of the meetings, my dear boy. And I did stress to you it would be important to attend the briefing the day before the start of term, but again, you decided to be elsewhere. Thus, this makes a third opportunity that you passed up on to learn the truth about our dear Mss Consensio." He cleared his throat, and pulled out a small bag. "Although, I do agree that you have been a great asset to the Hogwarts team and the Order, which is also a team. But we could not have done it without you, I confess. You have been very valuable to our cause Severus, and we are grateful." Snape's furious glare turned into a lesser scowl. "It is most unfortunate what has happened here, and all over the misinformation of the new Professor to you Severus my boy, yes indeed. The best way for us to progress and look forward from this, is for you to attend the meetings from now on, and for myself and the staff to keep you informed of all important facts. I shall see to this, personally my boy." He pulled a small yellow sweet from the bag. "Lemon drop?" Snape didn't even answer, he just raised a brow as if the small sugary sweet was an insult.

"Very well." He said after a few moments. "But why was Mss Consensio not brought as I summoned her, as I summoned you?"

"Because as already explained, she is for the moment, unreachable." He sighed, and dropped the sweet into the bag. "I fear she thinks you dead Severus, you certainly looked that way when we found you both. We had to stupefy dear Procella to stop her having a fit, upon seeing you like that. Or screaming again. And to think, she was only at low volume in Banshee tongue." He smiled slightly. "If she had been any louder, you would have been dead. Another thing to be grateful of, I believe." He smiled brighter, and pulled a lemon drop out of the bag again. He put it in his mouth, and looked to Severus. "Are sure you won't have one?"

"No I will not." He said very sternly. "And what is this about her not eating or drinking for days. And she thinks I am dead?"

"Yes my dear boy. I believe she does, as she has been mourning your death terribly, thinking she has murdered." He frowned. "The odd thing was, Poppy said her symptoms were similar to that of a relapse, but she has never encountered this sort of situation before."

"Not again." Snape pulled his wand from his robes, and then threw them on. "In her rooms?"

"Yes." Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

He had never intended to organise a group to force their way in. what good would that do? It would be far more affective for Snape to demand to enter her room, as he would, and make her realise she hadn't killed him at all. She would realise she wasn't a murderer, come out, and be treated.

Three birds with one, dark potion master, stone.

"Right." He said to himself, and walked out of the curtain. He made Madam Pomfrey jump as he sneered at her, and stormed out of the infirmary.

"Oh no, not another one." She groaned. "Am I destined to have all my patients walk out on me before I can stop them?" she asked no one in particular, and jumped again when Albus replied.

"No, no you are not Poppy. For this is just the right time for him to leave, and for Mss Consensio to come back." He offered her a lemon drop, and she declined. "No? Very well. Oh, and would you be good enough to prepare another bed? I believe it will be needed soon."

Severus thought many things as he walked into the entrance hall, and turned away from his dungeons. He walked down the hall, and passed first Procella's classroom, and continued on.

She thinks I'm dead.

She thinks she's done it again, killed again.

This went over and over in his mind, as he revisited the foreign memories of that whimpering little girl, and her dead family.

The family she killed.

Soon enough, he was at the end of the hall and facing the door to her quarters. He wondered what to do.

He had it down to three options.

A, knock on the door and wait for a reply.

B, bang his fist on the door and shout for her to answer the door right now, or he would blast it open.

C, forget the formalities, blast the door straight down and then yell at her for being so stupid, and then Imperio her all the way to the infirmary. Where he would continue to scold her for being ridiculous and self damaging, for no reason.

And at the moment, C was the most tempting.

But what if none of those work? He thought just as he raised his hand. They will have to work. He shuck his head, and wore his usual stern mask.

He knocked three times, and waited.

No reply. Well what was I expecting? She can't answer me. But she could open the bloody door. He knocked again, keeping his temper in check.

No reply.

His teeth ground together now, finding it hard to contain himself.

BANG BANG BANG.

His fist beat down on the door, and yet again.

No reply.

"Professor Procella Consensio. If you do not open this Merlin forsaken door right this instant, I will Incendio this door so quickly, you won't be able to-" the door swung open.

Against his well, Snape's face softened slightly, as he looked down upon the mess that was Procella.

Her skin was pale, she had huge black bags under her eyes, her glorious blonde hair was lank and greasy, held back in a ribbon, and her emerald eyes that once shone so brightly, had red lines in her whites, and shadows in her green orbs. "…stop me…" Tears misted in her eyes, and slowly ran down her cheeks. She sobbed once, before stepping forwards. He was so entranced by her deathly cold eyes, that he didn't register she was in her nightgown.

Her shaking hands traced his face, as if afraid he was a mirage, and a smile formed on her rose lips. "I'm alive." Severus spoke softly, and lowered his fist. It had been ready to bang on the door again, but now hung by his side. His other hand slipped his wand into his pocket, and lifted her chin. "Why do you fear me?" her gratitude on a numinous level, left her face and she frowned.

He didn't know what made him say it, he just did. At the one time she probably couldn't take that question, he had asked it.

Procella swallowed, and brought her hands away from his face. And Snape didn't like how quickly one sentence, five words, had made her withdraw again.

When she took a step back into her room, he made sure to walk right inside. Better to not give her chance to lock him out, now that he got her door open.

Procella just looked at him, as if she no longer believed he was here. I thought he was dead…I thought I killed him… "I see you were given the best view of the grounds." Severus spoke in his usual dreary voice, and looked out her window. Procella slowly walked towards him, and also looked outside. Well, she looked to be looking outside, but she really looked up at him. "It wasn't your fault."

Again, his mouth ran away with him. That was twice now, and he didn't like it. But it seemed to do just the trick, as Procella looked up to him, her eyes showing just how lost and confused she was inside. He saw this, having the skill to read people like his potions books, and turned to face her. "I have completely recovered, I feel no injury nor memory of what happened to me once I blacked out." He said, as if giving a professional report. "I shall return to my lessons, as will you once given a medical examination. We shall get back to our duties, and no more will be said of this." He smirked. "Literally in your case." Oddly enough, this made her chuckle, and her eyes seemed to be that little bit lighter.

She pulled a roll of parchment from the table by her bed, and a quill danced on it with the simple prompt of her finger.

Are you really alive?

"No, I am a figment of your illustriously vivid imagination, conjured by the insecurities of your air headed mind, given form by your worst fear and most respected colleague." He said seriously, and then smirked. Especially when she chuckled again, and closed her eyes, as if finally admitting she was tired. "But you have yet to answer my question. I have answered yours, it is only fair you do me the same courtesy." She seemed to tense up. "Especially what I have had to go through to get a conversation out of you." She relaxed and chuckled again.

Why am I sounding like Lupin? His voice was still as stern as ever, but what he was saying was almost…friendly? I think I better check in with Poppy before I leave Procella. I may have hit my head.

And when did I start calling her Procella?

He came back to the world of the living, when the sound of scribbling caught his attention.

Your eyes. You remind me of someone.

And then scribbled a little smaller, as if the writer was reluctant to confess it,

And you make me nervous.

Snape looked at the note, and from first glance knew what the first line meant.

Her father. I have her father's eyes. When she looks into my eyes, she sees the same eyes that she made close. He then returned to his usual attitude, upon reading the second line. I make her nervous? "I make you nervous?" he raised a brow, and looked like he was back to usual, snarky, bad tempered normal self again. "What the hell do you mean, I make you nervous?" at the tone of his voice, she looked down, and stepped away. He sighed, and had to stop himself. Remember Severus. She doesn't like upsetting people, because of her past. Those Banshees were angry with her, so in some twisted way, she might have thought it was her fault and refused to get people angry.

This woman is twisted and needs to get a life. He found himself thinking, and looked to her again. But his stern face was getting harder and harder to hold as he looked to her. It's because she is so pathetic. He told himself.

But his heart wasn't in it. "Very well. It is your opinion and I accept it." He ended that not soon enough for his liking. "Now, you will go to the infirmary. That is an order, not a request." He put it bluntly. "You look a mess, you smell a mess, and you are not fit to teach you class." He turned to leave. "So clean yourself up, and get back to lessons." He stood in the doorway. "Where you belong."

Procella smiled, and another tear fell down her face.

But for the first time ever, it was because she was happy, not sad.

I didn't kill him.

I'm not a murderer! Procella jumped in the air and grinned madly, only to wish she could just die when she saw Snape was still in the doorway, looking at her. "Good to see you are enthusiastic towards your lessons." He remarked, and then left.

Snape hung back near his Dungeons, and sure enough, he saw a dressed Procella walking weakly towards the infirmary. She collapsed in the entrance hall, and he stepped towards her, but stopped as two other people ran to her.

He didn't know why, but when he saw Lupin and Tonks run to Procella, it made an angry monster shovel more fire into the pit of his stomach, and make it roar madly. Severus scowled as he saw Tonks cry and embrace Procella, only to make it a group hug with Lupin. They told her over and over again that Snape was alright, and that she was going to be fine too.

Stupid fools. She would be 'alright' a lot faster if you didn't stop her getting to the infirmary. He seethed, and that fire licked at his insides even more when Lupin pulled Procella up into his arms, and carried her out of sight. Closely followed by the pink haired Aura. Snape grit his teeth, and returned to his dungeons, where he was King.

It wasn't them who got her to come out her room, or make her smile and chuckle was it? It was me, not them. But like always, the wolf and his crony-of-the-time, whether it be Sirius and Potter, or that Pink haired bimbo of his, they always take the credit. They think because they are Gryffindors they can to as they like, and look the hero all the time. Snape brooded all the way to his private quarters. He even sulked in his comfy chair over his lesson plans. Disgusting how he had his arms all over her. We are teachers and should be setting an example, not groping each other in plain sight of the students. They already have hormone control problems as it is, without their betters giving them the impression that that sort of behaviour is permissible. I should know, I am usually the one catching them after hours 'kissing and hugging' in the shadows.

Pathetic Lupin and his heroic attitude.

Pathetic pink haired bitch and her overzealous mother/bodyguard attitude. Snape growled to himself, and gave up trying to read.

In the end, he had to reach for his own brewed sleeping drought, to knock himself out for the night. The list thing he thought, was what she had 'said'.

And you make me nervous.

The five words that he used to shake her, were nothing like the five words she used to retaliate with.

And you make me nervous.

It wasn't the words that disturbed him, but the steak that had started to ease away into a wedge, stung with guilt as he thought upon those five, measly words. But the real disturbing part, was that he cared he made her nervous.

But why? He found her the most unbelievable, 'chipper' (when not mourning over his none existent death), shy, ridiculously dressed individual he had ever met. Almost as bad as dog-boy.

But if that was true, and it was.

Why was it her face he saw before the lights went out? And why did he think back on her past, the past he experienced, and want to hold her close, and never, ever let go?

He didn't get these answers tonight, as he fell victim to his own potion.