A/N

I'm glad that everyone seems to be enjoying these little scenes! Thank you all for your reviews.

This scene does not actually feature Sirius, but he is mentioned…well, maybe towards the end of the whole scene. It's more of a scene that was typed to…hmm, portray McGonagall's relationship with former, non-Gryffindor students. Particularly a certain Slytherin.

This is set a few days after the previous scene, in case anyone's interested.

Well, hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Six: Discoveries and Bad Tempers

"Severus, I know you're in there."

The dark-haired Professor received no reply as she stood patiently outside what she knew was the entrance to the Potions' Master's private rooms.

"Open the door, Severus. I would like to talk to you and I'm not too keen on carrying on conversations with myself."

Her jaw set, the Deputy Headmistress drew herself to her full height and glared at the old dark-haired wizard whose portrait guarded the entrance she desperately wished would open.

"I would like to go inside," she said, simply. The – quite obviously Slytherin – wizard sneered at her.

"You are more than welcome to try."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me. I said I would like to go inside."

"By all means, go ahead and try."

Now, this kind of unpleasantness was not something that the Transfiguration Professor was able to tolerate – and from a portrait no less.

And especially not when she had a more pressing things on her mind.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Let me rephrase that; I demand that you allow me entrance into Severus Snape's quarters." Again, she was sneered at.

"Typical Gryffindor stupidity," he muttered to himself – although it was clear that he did want her to hear him. "I said no, woman, so go and find yourself some other-"

The old, dark-haired wizard stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the wand that was pointed at his face, with the tip of the wooden item barely an inch away from his nose.

"-Watch your tongue and learn your place," snapped Minerva McGonagall. "I am a Professor at Hogwarts, and I deserve some respect. If not as a mere Professor, then certainly as the school's Deputy Headmistress." She took a deep breath as a somewhat foreboding emotion surged in her gut.

Why hadn't Severus opened the door for her? True, they may not be the best of friends – she didn't even want to think of the possibility of that happening – but they certainly…got along well. Not well, per say, but…civilly.

But why-? Shaking her head clear of thought, she turned to the portrait once more, her wand arm as steady as ever. "For the last time, before I completely incinerate you and this lovely green and silver frame; I want to go inside."

She only lowered her wand and removed the threatening glower from her face when she had almost entered the room.

Honestly, she thought, who does he think he is? Hmm…maybe I could get the Fat Lady to-

"Severus!" Minerva McGonagall hurried further into the dimly lit living room, her eyes not moving from the figure that was crumpled up in front of the fireplace, in a heap of black robes. "Severus? Severus!" She was on her knees now, having turned the Potions' Master's figure so that he was lying on his back. His face was pale, and when she took one of his hands in hers, she gasped at the iciness of the limb.

Quickly stoking up the waning fire, she pointed her wand at the man, and muttered "Enervate." It was all she could do to wait patiently as the Potions' Master regained consciousness. She only allowed him a moment to compose himself – to allow his eyes to flutter open – before speaking. "What happened? How do you feel?"

The man as on his feet in a flash; a strange look in his eyes as he stared at the dark-haired witch.

"Minerva." The strange look disappeared as he realized just who it was. Staggering slightly, he moved, unconsciously, so that he was closer to the fire. "What are you doing here?"

McGonagall was too busy watching the steady quivering of his body to pay attention to what he was saying, forcing him to repeat the question.

"I did come to see you," she said, bringing her eyes to meet his. "But I suppose I have come at a-"

"-How did you get in here? I am sure that I have not given you the password to my private quarters, for it is, as the name suggests, private."

McGonagall blinked.

"I – well, I have my ways," she said, a bit taken aback by his attitude. Yes, it was his usual attitude, but…something was clearly wrong with him and he did not seem the slightest bit bothered.

There was a spark of realization in the Potions' Master's dark eyes when he turned to look at her for a moment.

"Ah," he said. "I will have to come up with something to prevent my guard portrait from being intimidated…"

This is not right, thought McGonagall, the ugly frustrated beast raising its head in her gut, he has not stopped…twitching since he stood, and he's –

"You're twitching."

The man raised his eyebrows at her.

"And you're not."

"Severus, you're twitching," said McGonagall, ignoring his reply. "I found you in a heap on the ground. What's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I am twitching. And no, you would not have found me…in such a condition had you not barged into my private quarters in the first place and, no, everything is not alright because I am going to have to speak to the Headmaster about making sure that private quarters stay private," said Snape, a closed expression changing his face.

"Go ahead," said McGonagall, as she glared sternly at her former student. "And I will just inform him that someone needs to look after you – after explaining what condition I found you in, of course."

"I do not need any looking after," snarled Snape, the quivering increasing so much so that he had to place a hand on the mantle above the fireplace to steady himself. But of course, he made to impress upon his unwelcome visitor that he was brushing dust off from the mantle. Like he wanted her to see how weak he was at the moment.

"For heaven's sake, Severus!" snapped McGonagall, impatiently, "I have been looking for you for two days. I wouldn't have forced myself into your private quarters if I hadn't been sure that you were in. Honestly, you'd think that – Severus, I think you should sit down."

"No, I think I am quite content with standing where I am, thank you," sneered the dark-haired man, suddenly catching sight of the paleness on his colleague's face. "May I suggest that you sit down? Before you collapse, as your face is hinting you will?"

"You're bleeding!"

"I am not. Where are you – what in the – what – no – " Before he really knew what happened, the younger man found himself lying down on his back, along the length of the couch, while a stern-faced McGonagall conjured up bandages and a few vials of murky liquid. "What are you-"

"-Listen to me, and listen to me carefully, Severus Snape. You will keep your mouth shut, and not protest. You seem to have sustained some injury to your arm which, I might add, is bleeding quite…convincingly. No wonder you look so pale, boy!" She shook her head. "Now stay still while I clean this up."

He struggled, he really did, when she pulled the sleeve of his robes up, trying to find the source of the bleeding. But it was to no avail; she had his arm in a vice-like grip, and he could not break free. Add to that the fact that he still twitched, well, it ensured that he could not do a thing to prevent her from seeing it.

He heard her gasp when she spotted it, and averted his eyes, deciding that the ceiling was quite an interesting thing to stare at. "Severus," she said, slowly, "you-"

"-Yes," he said, suddenly, not wanting to let her finish what he knew she was going to say. "I know."

"But what-?"

"-Just do…your job, please."

"You needn't tell me that. But what happened? Why…who-?"

He could not help but laugh dryly.

"Who, Minerva? Surely you have heard everything from the Headmaster? And if you have, surely you are intelligent enough to figure out who it was that did…this."

"I can guess who did it," said the Transfiguration Professor, quietly, as she magically cleaned up the wound that looked as though someone had taken a blade in an attempt to cut out the Dark Mark that stained the pale skin. "But I am interested in knowing why."

"He believed that I was not loyal to him."

"How did he find-"

"-It was pretty obvious, Minerva. I did not go to him when he was resurrected. When the Dark Mark burned once more, when he called us, I stayed here at Hogwarts."

"So he doesn't know-?"

"-Of my real…purpose? No, I don't suppose he does. Not unless I do something stupid to inform him of it."

"But he still let you live?"

"I managed to…convince him that I had bided my time here at Hogwarts, getting friendly with, and I quote, 'that dirty little Mudblood and Muggle-lover' so that I would be of greater service to him when he returned. For I would have had Albus Dumbledore's trust by then."

"And he believed that?" questioned McGonagall, once the bandages had wrapped themselves around his arm. "Will it be alright, to cover the mark up? It will not…prevent you from knowing if you are…called again?"

Snape had pulled himself into a seated position now, lowering his sleeve back to its proper place.

"Don't worry, I will be able to serve my purpose to the Order, since that is what you are indirectly asking," he hissed, masking a slight twinge of…hurt behind a sneer.

He earned a swift, sharp slap for that, and found himself staring up at an irate witch, unable to keep the shock from his face.

A/N

Continued in the next chapter!

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