Angel Watch Me Through the Night

Chapter 7

Camilla Wellington was headed for detention. Her very first one and none of the regular faculty had been able to handle it. The matter would have been dropped, but, of all people, the Headmistress herself - the ever absent Headmistress - was not going out Thursday at seven. Headmistress McGonagall had offered to reside over Camilla's detention. Just her eleven year old luck.

At first Camilla had tried hoping that the Headmistress would be called away, then that no one would tell where her office was, and even that one of the other teacher's schedules would clear up, but simply hoping was pointless, as this school was fast teaching her. A fourth year told her where the office was, and instead of the faculty's schedules changing, they were inked in on the detention board, with Camilla's name gleaming in emerald ink next to the elegant signature of the prim headmistress. The first year Ravenclaw sighed as she walked down the darkening halls. It took the young girl all of ten minutes to reach the large gargoyle that marked the head office, and another five seconds to realize she didn't know the password to get in.

"Erm, excuse me?" Camilla felt like an idiot, talking to a stone gargoyle that obviously couldn't hear her, but she couldn't think of an alternative at the moment, and it wasn't as though there was anyone watching her. Who knew? This old school was full of surprises. "I'm trying to get to the Headmistress's office. I have detention with her, and--" To Camilla's shock the gargoyle leapt to the side at once and allowed her passage. She had not even reached the third step on her journey upward, however, when she realized that the stairs went no where, they just stopped. Was someone playing a trick on her? She would kill that fourth year if they were joking. Without warning, nearly throwing Camilla off balance, the stairs began to move from underneath her feet. The young girl barely contained her scream of surprise as she gripped the railing, wondering if this was supposed to happen. After a minute of the startling, spiral journey up, the stairs came to a halt before a large set of oak doors with intricately carved handles.

"Lord, I hope no one is kissing in there" Camilla muttered as she knocked softly on the center line where the doors met. Without any sound from within, the large slabs of woods granted her a creaking entrance. At first Camilla didn't see anyone, but a glance to the left revealed the Headmistress leaning over a book, her back to her charge. Camilla began to softly announce her presence when McGonagall turned around sharply and gave the young Ravenclaw a small, warm smile and motioned for her to take a seat. Camilla looked around, seeing several places where she could sit down, a leather chair, a loveseat near the bookcase on the far wall, an ornate chair in the corner that looked rather painful, and a small faded red couch leaning against the wall closet to her. She chose the couch as it seemed to be the most comfortable and was the furthest away from the headmistress's desk. In fact, the couch was slightly scratchy on her legs and sunk beneath her weight. Slowly, McGonagall replaced the book on a shelf behind her desk and sat down, not in the hard wooden chair tucked under her desk, but instead on the cushioned couch next to her student. Camilla started and edged to the side of the couch, more than a little alarmed. McGonagall gave her another warm smile, and moved to lean on the other arm of the sagging couch. Camilla relaxed slightly.

"I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, Miss Wellington," McGonagall began, peering over her glasses, a trace of a grin playing on her lined face. "I haven't the slightest idea why you received a detention, and therefore haven't a clue how to punish you." Camilla heaved a sigh. She could lie, she supposed. Say she'd gotten a detention for being late or something. She wasn't completely certain if what she had done was so horrible, really. Looking up at the face of her headmistress, Camilla felt that perhaps a lie would not be for the best.

"I- I turned Thomas Kentley's hair green." She murmured. McGonagall peered at her over her glinting frames and Camilla began to feel that maybe she had caused a lot of trouble. "I didn't mean to, Professor! He was right in front of me and we were practicing charms in Professor Flitwick's class and I don't really know how it happened and I'm really, really sorry and--" But to Camilla's astonishment, the Headmistress was laughing. It was not a quiet chortle, but a full and boisterous laugh that sounded to Camilla as though Headmistress McGonagall had needed a good laugh badly for a long time.

"Well," began McGonagall, wiping her glasses on the sleeve of her robe, her broad smile unhidden on her face, "I hardly see why Professor Flitwick would give you a detention for that. I'm sure it happens all the time."

"The whole class started laughing," Camilla continued sheepishly, her cheeks reddening, "and it was pretty funny, but I hadn't meant to do anything, so I tried to undo the charm. I guess Professor Flitwick thought I was cursing him, but I promise I wasn't trying to, really!" McGonagall motioned for Camilla to stop talking.

"I believe you Miss Wellington!" Camilla supposed that her face must have showed her disbelief, as the Headmistress beamed down at her, her eyes shining with silent laughter. "I can't put something that miniscule on your record. It would simply be a waste of ink and parchment. Accidents like this will happen daily in the school. Our job is not to punish those who accidentally break the rules, but to penalize those who break them on purpose."

Camilla was stunned. Out of all the teachers to serve her detention, she had gotten the one who was rumored to be the strictest, the hardest, the least forgiving since the infamous Snape had suddenly vanished about a year ago. Yet, she wasn't experiencing any of the reported harshness. Instead, Camilla was simply having a light conversation with her headmistress. She was actually almost enjoying herself. Surely detention would not always be like this.

"I won't hold you here unless you wish to stay. I'm certain you have homework, perhaps some practice for your next charms class?" The headmistress's eyes sparkled as she let a half-smile slip onto her face. Camilla didn't really want to stay. No matter how kind Headmistress McGonagall seemed, she wasn't terribly comfortable in the circular office in such close quarters with a professor.

"Er, thanks. Yeah, I'll get some practice in." Camilla felt her cheeks heat up under the gaze and raised eyebrow of her professor. Forcing a sheepish smile onto her face, Camilla did a sort of half curtsey to the headmistress and turned to leave. She was pulling the door open when it hit her that now would be a good time to get some answers about Headmistress McGonagall for the other Ravenclaws. The older students were always wondering where she went, well what better time to ask? Maybe now they would stop being so snobbish. Just because she was a first year didn't make her stupid.

"Professor?" Camilla turned around to face the headmistress, "I know this probably isn't any of my business," and perhaps is a little stupid, " but some of the older years have been wondering where you go when you're not here." Camilla knew at once that she was bordering on rudeness. McGonagall's face darkened and the sparkle left her eyes. The smile on her face faltered and tensed but remained carefully in place.

"Tell your housemates," She began keeping her voice steady and cool, though it held none of the warmth of before. This was the harsh professor Camilla had heard so much about, "That it is of a personal matter and that it is not any of their business." Camilla nodded quickly and made to run from the room, "However," she froze, "I may be contacted at St. Mungo's Hospital. I am not having some illicit affair with the minister." The warmth had returned. Camilla gave a small laugh and another clumsy curtsey before hurrying from the room.

As soon as the child had left the room, the forced warmth had vanished from the headmistress's face and a chill swept the room. Minerva strode forcefully to the window and thrust it open to receive the cool night air. Had she been wrong to tell the girl where she went? No, it was an innocent enough answer. Why was she being so secretive about all of this anyway? Did she have something to hide? Her ventures in St. Mungo's were honorable to say the least, a loyalty of Helga's standards. Then why tell no one who she was seeing? She simply needed to keep this away from the school. What was wrong with that? Severus's condition was no dangerous secret. The papers had not kept his disappearance quiet; that was for certain.

"He deserves his dignity." Minerva whispered to herself vehemently, "I only need to keep the situation under control for him." Minerva walked back over to the desk and threw herself in the hard chair behind it, wincing as her rear hit the rigid wood. Thinking back, she remembered how Albus used to do the same thing when he was angry, hurling himself into a chair and then contorting his face from the stiff pain. Had she really gotten that old? Well, one hundred and twelve was hardly young. Albus had said there came a time when you forgot to keep track of the years. Perhaps her time was near. As a student here, she had vowed never to let her hair grey or her wrinkles show. Now, it seemed good enough simply to look ninety again.

One hundred and twelve she mused, that would make Severus a healthy seventy seven. Well, healthy physically anyway. For the most part, he was always far too thin. Glancing at the clock she suddenly realized that she only had an hour before visiting hours at St. Mungo's ended.

"It's enough" Minerva whispered as she grabbed a heavy robe and hat, "any time I can give him is enough."

Minerva peeked around the door of Severus's ward. He immediately lifted his head and stared unblinkingly at her. Though his face showed little emotion, his eyes sparkled smilingly. Minerva closed the door behind her and all but ran to his side, wrapping her arms around him. Severus raised his tired arms and clinched her back. This warm embrace, so uncharacteristic of the Severus she had known in the times of war, had become a tradition between them each time they saw each other. Perhaps the human contact would stir his memory. Perhaps she was simply optimistic. Perhaps she just needed to know that he was really there. Falling slowly out of her friend's arms, Minerva leaned back and stroked his cheek with a delicate hand. Catlike, Severus leaned into the contact, his eyes never leaving hers. He was ready.

"All right, Severus. Let's try speaking again."

For over an hour and a half, Severus tried. Several times, he began to sweat from the effort. At the height of his attempt, he would look up to Minerva and she would give him her hand to hold. Sometimes, he would simply tell her something, but mostly she asked questions and he tried to answer. It was hardly a decent conversation, but it was more then enough to hear his voice, to know he wanted to speak with her.

"Do you know your name?"

"Ssss" His face reddened and his grip tightened. "Seh…..seh" Minerva returned the squeeze to his hand reassuringly. "Sssseve….Ssseverus" Minerva smiled warmly and moved her other hand lightly on top of their clasped fingers.

"And mine?"

"Angel" Another smile. Angel. The one word he could say without trouble. Sooner or later, Minerva supposed she would have to teach him her actual name, but for now it would do. She patted his hand and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Now, how do you feel?" Now it was Minerva's turn to be rewarded with a smile. Severus said nothing, but his eyes told her everything. How odd that she could read him through his eyes now. For as long as she had known Severus before this horrible accident, his face had been completely unreadable. Now it was her main source of communication with him. Maybe she didn't want everything to go quite back to normal. No, no. Minerva struck the thought from her head. She would much rather have everything revert to its original state than have Severus suffer this indignity. If only she could have him back at Hogwarts with her. Minerva smiled down at Severus. He wrung her hand tightly, unwilling to let her go. If only she could teach him chess again. It was far too early for that. Maybe she could bring a small set next time, just in case.

Scooting closer to her charge, Minerva settled herself for a nice two hours of teaching. In her opinion, the most rewarding teaching she had ever attempted.

The cold stone halls echoed from the late night footsteps as they marched up the western stairs. Rufus Scrimgeour walked purposefully up the stone steps, his eyes set straight ahead of him. How was it in a castle of one thousand students, about forty staff, and over eight hundred house elves that no one ever knew where the headmistress was? If only there was some way to contact her outside of the school. Surely they must a system here for emergencies.

Upon reaching the gargoyle, the minister of magic rapped it sharply on the head with his walking stick. It gave a great shudder, but did not move. When he reached to knock again, the stone head growled severely at him and its smooth grey eyes narrowed. Rufus lowered his walking stick and turned on his heel. Not here again, and no one knew where she was. How interesting. How interesting indeed.

A/N: Unfortunately, this is simply more setup and has taken me far too long to update. I'm working on two other stories at the moment, both original. Combine that with school work, after school priorities and art work and you have the colossal mess that has become my day to day life. I am NOT giving this up, have no fear, but updates will become farther between, I'm afraid. I simply have too much to do. However, I do not intend to sacrifice this. I will continue to update, I only ask that no one hold their breath.

These were, by the way, two separate chapters that turned out to be so short that I simply combined them. More for you to chew on! Maybe I'll update a bit more now!