Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, things, or ideas (all Harry Potter nouns) belong to J. K. Rowlings. I know that in canon, Minerva would have been close to fifty when Snape was in his fifth year, but in this story she is thirty-five.

Chapter 2: Nothing but trouble

Minerva was glad that her classes did not seem to notice how distracted she was. Though she followed her lesson plan and lectured on the necessary material, all she could think of was the previous night and the irresponsibility that had caused it. She massaged her temples, wishing that the headache she had developed due to her worrying would dissipate.

Lifting the piece of chalk from her desk, she realized that her hand was shaking badly. Not again, this is most intolerable. I cannot write like this, nor do I intend to humiliate myself by attempting to, she reasoned. After nearly dropping the chalk twice, she called a student up to the board to write the notes.

"As a teacher, I can call a student at any time to the board. This is to ensure that the class is paying attention to the lessons," she explained.

Most of the Slytherins collectively groaned, the Hufflepuffs shrugged, the Ravenclaws appeared disinterested, and the Gryffindors volunteered. First years, at least at this age they are somewhat predictable, Minerva thought to herself.

At the end of the day, she stiffly ambled to her office. She sank into her chair and conjured herself a cup of tea, not having the energy to bother with making an actual pot of the stuff. As she brought the cup to her lips, she heard a knock at the door. "Come in," she called.

Poppy entered and took a seat. Minerva raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "What brings you here today?" she inquired.

The medwitch eyed her friend with concern. "I thought you would like an update on Mr. Snape, but from what I can see, you are not feeling well yourself."

The Transfiguration professor averted her eyes for a moment. "It's nothing, Poppy. I- I'm just tired. How is Mr. Snape?" Minerva asked evasively.

Poppy decided not to push her friend. "He is feeling well enough to return to his classes the day after tomorrow. I don't know how or why, but he seems to be doing better with the treatments than most of my other patients. It's probably a good thing too, because I don't know how much longer I could tolerate his constant complaining about 'being held captive in a torture chamber of boredom,' as he put it."

Minerva allowed a chuckle to escape before regaining her professorial composure. "Tell him I'd like him to stop by my office after his classes," she instructed.

The other woman nodded. "I'll do that. And as for you, Minerva I expect to see you in the infirmary next week for your annual check-up. I don't want the report from St. Mungo's that you sent me last year because I know you've used a copying spell. I understand how much you hate things like this, but it's for your own good," she said as she left.

Severus knocked on her office door after his classes. After Minerva called him in, she offered him a seat and a cup of tea. He sat and took the tea tentatively, looking into it as if trying to read the future. They sat in comfortable silence until she spoke.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Snape?" she asked primly.

"As good as anyone can who's almost died," he replied acidly without thinking. Seeing her confusion, he immediately tried to ease his answer. "I'm sorry. What I meant was that I am alright, but I have homework to catch up on and I am upset with Potter and Black."

She sighed before speaking. "You don't have to apologize for being upset, not for what they did. Unfortunately, their punishment is out of my hands for the moment. I can only advise that you avoid them as much as possible."

He scoffed and she raised an eyebrow to his reaction. "Don't you think that I've tried that since day one? For some unknown reason, they take pleasure in provoking me."

She did not like the turn the conversation was taking and decided to suggest something else. "Do you like chess, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes, but it's almost impossible to find a decent opponent. If people who don't have confidence in their abilities cannot beat you the first time they play, then they aren't likely to try for a rematch," he remarked.

Nodding, she reached into a desk drawer and grabbed a chess board along with its pieces out from under her desk. "For your age, you are quite perceptive. Would you like to play a game against me?"

He raised an eyebrow and appeared genuinely surprised. "Is this another tactic that professors use in order to know their students better? If it is, you are wasting your time."

She sighed and shook her head. "You really are far too serious and cynical. You said you were looking for a challenge. In all honesty, so am I. This is not an effort to 'get to know you better,' but to ease some of the stress from the past few days," she tried to explain.

Glaring at the board as she set it up, he sighed. "Why would you bother to help me? You're not even the head of my house."

If only Horace hadn't gone on a sabbatical, we would not be stuck with Vincent Eygore as head of Slytherin and Potions Master. He's a barmy mule who only pays attention to students whose families are not above bribery, she thought. "White or black?" she asked, dodging his question. He pointed to the black and she moved a pawn forward. "I want to help you because you need someone on your side. I can see that clearly now. Enough about the 'why's.' It's your move, Mr. Snape."

He contemplated what she had just said for a while before moving his pawn. It was then that he took a closer look at the pieces. The white set was carved from marble while the black was ebony. They were also miniature copies of famous works of art such as David and other nude statues. Clearing his throat, he moved his pawn two steps forward and looked up at her. She raised a curious eyebrow. "Yes?"

"This is probably going to earn me a detention, but Professor McGonagall, does the headmaster know that you possess such risqué chess pieces?" the young man asked.

To his surprise, she laughed, the laughter sounding musical to him. "Dear boy, it's called art. Headmaster Dumbledore gave me this set. However, I usually do not play chess in my office and I often forget that it is here. If it bothers you, I can change them all into animals," she offered as she moved another pawn.

A bit of pink appearing in his face he shook his head. "I am sorry to have been rude. The pieces are fine," he added as he moved another one of his pawns.

She moved her rook. "You were not rude, merely inquisitive. It would have been rude if you had transfigured them for me without asking."

They continued the game in silence for a while. It was during the silence that he watched her closely in an attempt to discover an ulterior motive for his being there. Then he noticed her hand shaking as she moved her bishop. Though for the most part the action was concealed, he thought it was odd that her hand would shake at all. He decided to keep a mental note of it, but not to mention it for fear of invading her privacy.

Finally he noticed a mistake she had made and used it to his advantage. "Checkmate," he stated.

She analyzed the board and realized that he had been correct. Mentally scolding herself for allowing her mind to wander, she congratulated him. "Very well done, Mr. Snape. Unless you have any questions for me, you may go."

He nodded and for a brief moment she caught a flicker of a smile. "Thank you, Professor. It was a good game." There was a pause as he opened his mouth to say something more. "I would appreciate it if you keep to yourself anything you might accidentally learn of my life. The last thing I need is an interrogative meeting with every last professor."

She had to smile at his request. "Very well, and I would ask you to do the same," she ended wisely. As he turned the knob to leave, she called out again. "Why don't you meet with me next week for another game? If Mr. Potter and Mr. Black are still bothering you by that time, I will suggest other alternatives for you in your dealings with them that do not involve breaking school rules."

An eyebrow raised, he considered her suggestion for a full minute. Then he looked at his feet before returning to her. "I think that the idea sounds fair. Good day, Professor McGonagall."

He left without hearing anything else she might have said. "And to you, Mr. Snape," she whispered as she returned to grading papers.

(My thanks to excessivelyperky for reviewing :D)