Chapter Seven: When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone

Severus left as soon after Minerva as he could, following her out quietly. He was on his way back to the dungeons when he turned and instead headed toward the Headmistress's Office. She may have looked fine when she left the library, but perhaps she needed his assistance. She would never come to him of her own accord. But he would let her know that he would do whatever she asked of him, no matter what that was.

He reached the gargoyle and uttered the password; this time, it was "grasshopper," which he felt marginally less foolish saying than her last one, which had been "ass." Apparently, she was reading Aesop's fables, and she took the name of whatever creature appeared in the one she had read the night before she changed it. Dumbledore's practice of using the names of sweets seemed positively rational in comparison.

As the stairs spiralled upwards, he began to walk up them, reaching the top level in half the time it usually took. He raised his hand to the knocker, but before he could touch it, the door swung open to him. He still didn't know how Albus, and now Minerva, knew when there was someone coming up to see them, though he was certain there was some charm involved. He was always careful of anything he said or did in the stair, as a result, not being certain that they couldn't hear everything that went on in it.

Minerva was standing behind her desk. Her eyebrows rose when she saw him, but it seemed to Severus that she may have been surprised, but not displeased, and he thought he even detected a shadow of a smile on her face.

"Severus! I had not expected to see you tonight. Hogwarts business or Order?"

"Neither, or both, perhaps," he replied.

"Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work before . . . before retiring, but it can wait," she said, sitting down herself. "Would you care for some tea?"

"No, thank you," Severus said, declining the pro forma offer and looking over to his left at the portrait of Headmaster Dumbledore, who still slept in his rocking chair. As far as he knew, the portrait always slept. Perhaps he woke for Minerva, giving her advice. He wondered what the portrait—or the real Dumbledore—would say about what he had witnessed earlier in the library. "I have come to see . . . if you require my assistance at all."

"When we require it, I let you know," Minerva answered, looking puzzled.

"I don't mean you—I mean you. You, Minerva," Severus clarified. "I don't think we have had one conversation in the last twenty when there wasn't someone else present. I wished to speak with you alone and be sure that there is nothing that you need from me."

Minerva shook her head. "Nothing. You did me your last personal favour a year ago, and we both know how that turned out, don't we." Her voice was not as cold as usual, although her words still stung.

"Still . . . I told the Headmaster that I would look after you. And even if I hadn't, I am your Deputy Headmaster, despite the fact that you scarcely seem to make use of me in that role," Severus said, aware that he was sounding somewhat petulant, but not particularly caring. "Do you know that some of the younger students forget that I am the Deputy—they think it is Crouch. Why did you not simply name him Deputy and be done with it?"

"He is not Head of House; you are," Minerva replied.

"That has not always been strictly adhered to in the past," Snape pointed out, trying not to remember the fact that the previous such person had been Crouch's mother.

Minerva shrugged. "I also wished to put you in a position that might enhance your status with the Dark Lord, and I do value your assistance, as paltry as you may think it. It also gives us a greater excuse to meet regularly as we do."

"Always in the presence of . . . Professor Crouch," Severus said. Minerva was being more relaxed with him than she had been in months. He could try to be civil.

"I rely upon him a great deal. It is better that he be present. If he weren't, I would simply have to repeat everything we said, and I might miss something crucial. And his participation in our meetings has always been fruitful, I have thought."

Severus nodded, hesitating. "You know, Minerva . . . I realise you have known Professor Crouch for many years, but have you known him well? To be frank, I worry that he has too great an influence on you, and I don't know him at all. I know that the Headmaster expressed his complete trust in him, but . . . if he were to betray that trust, would you recognise it? You seem very close to him." Severus wanted to come right out and tell Minerva that he feared the foreign wizard was manipulating her for his own ends, but he did not wish to alienate what little affection she might still possess for him.

Minerva actually laughed softly. "You do not know what you say, Severus. I value him. I value his advice and his friendship. And he could no more betray the Headmaster than I could. So many remind me daily that the Headmaster is dead. I am alive and the Headmistress of Hogwarts, and it is to me that he is loyal now. And Arthur leads the Order, but I know that even there, Robbie's loyalty lies first with me—as does your own, I believe."

Severus lowered his eyes. "You know that it does, you know what I would sacrifice for you. You know that I wish I had done things differently, though how, I do not know. But now . . . I feel not only that you do not trust me as your Deputy, but that you do not trust me within the Order. I know less now than I did before the Headmaster . . . before, with him. There is something going on, I can tell, but I do not know what it is, and this . . . this friend of yours is involved."

"You know all that you need to know, Severus," Minerva replied. "And you are doing an admirable job with Miss Granger. I noticed she had one of the texts we had removed from the library shelves last spring. I presume that you left it for her to find?"

Severus nodded. "It seemed the appropriate time." He knew that she had said that she would direct him with regard to what clues to leave and where, but there seemed no point in pretending that he had not veered from her instructions.

"And yet . . ." Minerva paused, thinking. "You offer your services to me, Severus, and ask for my trust. But you gave the book to Miss Granger without discussing it with me."

"As I say, it seemed the appropriate time."

Minerva looked at him appraisingly. "Proceed as you see fit, then. And you might wish to . . . collaborate with Miss Granger, if you believe it prudent, and if you can find a method of communication that would not raise suspicions. She will be unhappy, I believe, that she was used as a tool in our plan, but telling her now and enlisting her assistance might soothe some of her displeasure." Minerva pursed her lips as she gazed across the desk at him. "You have been following her when she goes to Grimmauld Place."

Severus's expression did not change. "I believe it wise to ensure her safety."

Minerva nodded. "In the future, Severus, I would appreciate it if you would impart such information to me. Even if you have no intention of doing anything other than what you plan to do, regardless of whether I approve or not, I would prefer to be aware of your plans in advance. You say that you are loyal to me, Severus, and I believe that you believe that, but I would appreciate your trust, as well."

"Trust," Severus said, suddenly feeling very tired and discouraged. "Trust others when no one trusts me? I should trust no one, as well. How can I trust anyone when I am shunned so? Arthur is kind to me, as is Molly, and Remus . . . lycanthropy must have softened his brain, as he is also kind. Most of the others tolerate me. But none of them trusts me. They do not say it, but I see it. Moody is perhaps the most honest of the lot. Even you do not trust me. You have had me watched."

Minerva shook her head. "We noticed. Only after we noticed, did we watch."

"We. You and . . . your shadow."

Minerva ignored Severus's statement. "I trust you, Severus, but I would trust you more if you would tell me what you are doing. If there are things that I do not tell you because I cannot, it is for this reason that I would prefer to be aware of what you are doing so that the Order does nothing that interferes with your activities. And if Alastor happens to notice you following Miss Granger one day, I would like to be able to tell him that I approved of it and that it was the truth I told him. I do not like lying, Severus, and I have found I have had to do far too much of it recently to far too many people, including to those whom I consider friends. The lies I told Alastor today were unnecessary ones, had you only trusted me."

"He noticed? How?" Severus sat up straighter. "No one followed us from the school. I am sure of that." Had Moody also seen the boys enter and leave Grimmauld Place? They only had the one cloak between them, and it never covered all three. On this occasion, it had been Weasley who was the odd one out, and Potter and Lovegood under the Invisibility Cloak. But anyone who saw Weasley would easily deduce that Potter was nearby. The dunce hadn't even bothered with a Disillusionment Charm on their way in, he was that careless. He had been Disillusioned when the three left, but if someone in the Order had been aware they were there . . . they would have seen the door open, and they would have detected that there was someone Disillusioned, even if they couldn't tell who the person was. And if there had been a Death Eater following Hermione, trying to track her to Potter, even if he couldn't have seen Grimmauld Place, he would have seen Weasley disappearing when he entered.

"No, but Alastor was outside the house this afternoon at just about the time that you went in," Minerva answered. "He saw that you went in alone and did not come out again. But you gave him the impression that you and Miss Granger had arrived together, and she did not contradict it. He found it peculiar. So I told him that I had you follow Miss Granger, who had insisted on Apparating to Grimmauld Place alone, and make sure that she had arrived safely and watch her until others arrived. He believed me. He thought it quite funny—he was sure that you would find it demeaning and aggravating to be asked to watch a Gryffindor student. I allowed him to retain that impression."

"If I had told you, you would have been aware that I know of her meetings with the others. You never informed me of them, and I assumed you did not trust me with that knowledge," Severus said defensively.

"I already knew that you knew, Severus," Minerva replied gently. "I have always been aware that you told Miss Granger that she should meet the boys and Miss Lovegood there. If it was your idea, it could hardly be a surprise to me that you knew of it. I was slightly surprised that you were aware of the precise timing of Miss Granger's trips, however."

"I am not. But they always take place when she has an excuse to leave Hogwarts—either on a Hogsmeade weekend or when there is an Order meeting. It is easy enough to follow her. And she should not be wandering about Hogsmeade on her own, anyway," Severus replied.

"I agree completely. Which is how we noticed your own . . . trips."

"I wish you had said something earlier," Severus said somewhat petulantly. "No one trusts me and yet everyone wonders why I am a surly bastard."

"No one trusts you? I trust you more than you realise, Severus."

"Hmmph. You should have killed me, Minerva, killed me when I was suffering from that curse and I asked you to. You never would have had to endure my touch, Albus would be alive, and I . . . I wouldn't have to wait for the inevitable. Death at your hands would be a mercy compared with what I am sure awaits me. Either way, I am dead. This is just a . . . a brief respite from it. Death still owns me."

"No, Severus," Minerva said, more gently than he had heard her speak to him in more than a year. "No, Severus, you live, you live because, first, it was my wish that you live, and then it was Albus's wish that you live. Untreated, the curse on Albus would have claimed him regardless of your own actions; you know that. And it is my wish now that while you live, you live as well as you can. You can make your life worthwhile. And you do not know when your death will be—you may survive this war, and you need to think about that, too."

Severus shook his head. "No, no, there is no point. I will continue because I must, and perhaps I can still hope for some kind of redemption in the end. Though it will come only with ignominy and disgrace, I am certain of that. It can be no other way, not when there isn't a soul who truly trusts me, none but a child." He looked up at her. "Even you do not trust me, Minerva. And I do not blame you for it, despite wishing it were different."

"What child is that, Severus?" Minerva asked.

"Granger. Bit of a fool Gryffindor," Severus said, trying to put venom into words he did not feel.

"She is no child, Severus. And as I have said, I do trust you; there are simply things I cannot share with you. You have been in your double role long enough to have learned that."

"I understand," Severus said with a sigh, "but you trust this Crouch, and I do not. If you ever need me, Minerva, for anything, for something other than school or Order business, please know that I will do whatever you ask of me. If you are under some . . . stress or pressure."

Minerva chuckled bitterly. "I am always under stress, but Robbie helps with that. I trust him with my life—with my very soul. He is the only person with whom I can be completely open."

"Can you forget Dumbledore so quickly, then?" Severus grimaced. "I am sorry. I know you have not forgotten him."

"No, I have not," Minerva said very softly. "I never could. But Albus would approve of my friendship with Professor Crouch—he did approve. We talked in those last days, you know. That was a gift you gave me, Severus. We could talk. I knew his fate, and we could talk and plan."

"But . . . Crouch seems very . . . attached to you. For a wizard I had never seen nor heard of up until a year ago, that simply appears . . . unusual." Severus had stopped himself from saying, "suspicious," though that was plainly what he meant. "He . . . he has influence over you."

"Your comments are highly impertinent. I have explained more to you than you have any right to know, as it is, Severus," Minerva said coolly, knowing precisely what Severus meant. "You are perfectly aware that he is no stranger to me. And Albus knew him since he was a baby; he was friends with his parents."

"Ah, yes, 'Uncle' Albus." He grimaced. It grated on Severus's last nerve to hear that appellation from the wizard's mouth, particularly after he had learned he was no such thing.

"They were quite close, especially in the years immediately after his father was killed and Albus saved his life," Minerva said, her eyes narrowing. "Albus knew both his parents since before Robbie was born. I was good friends with his mother and taught with her for many years—she was my own Arithmancy teacher, in fact." Minerva paused, staring at him, her eyes harder than they had been. "She was yours, too, wasn't she?"

Severus nodded, blocking out all memories to do with the Arithmancer. Trying to block them, but succeeding only in drawing to mind again the image of the bloodied old witch kneeling on the floor beside her severed arm, looking up at him, her face devastated by a curse cast by Lucius Malfoy just before she had felled him, but her grey eyes still clear as she clasped her wand to her chest and Disapparated. The same grey eyes that looked out at him from her son.

"In fact, she was married to my oldest brother," Minerva said briskly. "Robbie is a part of the family, Severus."

"Like a nephew, then, is he?" Severus asked, a sneer in his voice, distancing himself from the memory of the mother and calling to mind the more recent memory of the son in the library with Minerva.

"Severus, do not take that tone!" Minerva rebuked him. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Not like a nephew, no. He is a few years older than I, for one, and we met as adults. But we are . . . close. We always were, and this has brought us closer. I rely on him and we take care of each other."

"Isn't he married?" Severus had looked into the background of this Potions master, but had learned little of him other than that he had owned an apothecary in Amsterdam for more than four decades and was married to the daughter of a Dutch Potions master. "Where is his wife?" Severus asked. Surely Minerva's sense of propriety would keep her from a sordid, illicit affair with another witch's husband.

Minerva hesitated perceptibly. "She left. A year or so ago. She . . . she disapproved of his decision to come to Hogwarts and stay."

"I can see why," Severus said. He looked at Minerva, trying to judge how much he could say. "I doubt any witch would approve of her husband spending so much time with such an accomplished witch as you."

Minerva stiffened. "My presence at Hogwarts had nothing to do with it. You do not know what you are talking about."

"Perhaps not for you, but for him? He is very . . . devoted to you." Severus ventured. "He was helping to take care of Albus in those last weeks. Are you sure that he . . . that he wasn't a bit careless in his brewing?"

"Severus Snape! I am utterly appalled with you! Albus was like a second father to that man— Robbie owed him his life! And Murdoch brewed for him, too, and Albus may not have been entirely himself . . . toward the end, but he surely would have noticed if there had been anything wrong with the potions. Not to mention that he soon declined to take anything but standard pain potions—as you are well aware. You know why Albus did as he did. If there is anyone to blame—" Minerva stopped herself. She shook her head, then continued more gently, "I can tell you this as a cold fact, Severus: Albus made decisions on your behalf, for your benefit. He did not regret it. But he asked Robbie to stay on, to help me. That was his wish, as surely as it was his wish for you to survive and not to sacrifice yourself needlessly. And it is my wish, as well."

Severus sat, uncharacteristically slumped in his chair, and nodded disconsolately. His sacrifice would come, but he grew increasingly doubtful that he had anything of meaning left to do before that time came. He hadn't even been able to save Albus. And now it looked as though he not only hadn't saved him, but had brought this skulking character into Minerva's life, and into Hogwarts and the Order, as well.

Minerva stood and came around the desk. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Severus . . . I know this has been difficult for you, and I have not made it any easier. I am sorry," she said softly.

"You're sorry?" Severus asked, looking up at her. "You're not the one who was the dunderhead who took an Unbreakable Vow not even really knowing what it was for. Although . . . what's worse . . . I probably still would have taken it, even if I had known. It was the only choice I seemed to have." He sighed and looked away. "I don't blame you. I knew that you wouldn't be able to forgive that. I never expected it. I understand why you hate me."

"It has been hard, yes, hard for everyone involved. And I don't know when I will be able to fully forgive you, but as you say, you had scarcely any choice in the matter. I understand that better than you might imagine. And I do not hate you, Severus. If I hated you, I would have sent you out five minutes after you arrived this evening. I certainly wouldn't have explained myself to you as much as I have, nor tolerated your impertinent, unfounded, and truly foolish speculations about Robbie." She patted his shoulder. "Have some faith, Severus. Things might work out better than you expect, better than you could hope for. After all, you already have one thing working in your favour, a gift of sorts."

"Gift?"

"You have the trust of a Gryffindor witch. You have the opportunity to . . . to not let this one down, Severus. However you may go about it, you can justify her trust and her faith and her affection." Minerva squeezed his shoulder then suddenly bent and gave him a swift and highly unexpected peck on the forehead. "Go to bed, Severus, sleep. I will see you at the staff meeting tomorrow morning. I will be retiring soon, myself."

Minerva went back behind her desk, put her glasses on, and picked up a parchment. Severus looked behind him as he opened the door.

"Minerva?"

She looked at him over her glasses. "Yes?"

"How do you always know when you have a visitor?" It was a silly question, but if she trusted him . . .

"The gargoyle is charmed," Minerva replied matter-of-factly. "Whenever the gargoyle opens the entrance, there is an indication that it has done so, an alarm of sorts. I can sense it anywhere in the office or in the suite. It is tuned to my magic, so others wouldn't notice it. If I am in my office, I can often hear the person outside the door and am able to open it to them; otherwise, I simply try to time it for approximately how long it usually takes for the stairs to carry a person."

"Oh."

Minerva turned back to her parchments. "Good night, Severus."

Severus opened the door and left, feeling almost worse than he had when he had arrived. She clearly was enamoured of that Crouch . . . and yet, it seemed she might forgive him, finally. And that she still trusted him more than she let on, or more than he had realised. And there was Miss Granger. Whom he would disappoint, as surely as he had disappointed everyone else who had ever been foolish enough to care about him. Not that there had been many of them.

With a barely suppressed sigh, Severus realised he was more comfortable feeling angry, suspicious, and wronged, than he was when told he might be forgiven, when asked to have some hope, when told there was someone who had trust, faith, and even affection for him. He was still one screwed-up bastard. And a nasty one. That thought helped him stand straighter.

The gargoyle opened the exit at the base of the stairs, then it ground shut when Severus stepped out. A figure approached from the side corridor. Of course. The shadow. All that Severus had witnessed in the library earlier that evening returned to him with a rush of jealousy.

Severus stood and waited, a sentry of sorts.

"Professor Crouch," he said, nodding curtly.

"Professor Snape," the older wizard said softly, a slight smile on his face.

"The Headmistress has retired for the evening. It has been a wearying day," Severus said.

"So it has, so it has." The wizard just stood there, looking down at him with a bemused expression on his face.

"I am certain that whatever business you have with the Headmistress can wait until tomorrow," Severus continued, remembering the lanky wizard's words to Minerva, that he would come to her and that he would stay. Minerva hadn't protested, but Severus doubted that Minerva really needed him. He ignored the fleeting thought that Minerva had seemed happier and more relaxed that night than she had in many months, and that she had been more friendly to him, as well.

"As you do not know my business, I am amazed by your certainty, Professor," came the quiet yet friendly reply.

"Nonetheless, I believe that the Headmistress is best left undisturbed. She requires her rest," Severus said coldly.

The grey-eyed wizard nodded. "You care for Minerva," he stated.

"I am her Deputy. It is my job to care for her. And to protect her, if necessary," Severus replied, ignoring the possessiveness and envy that arose in him and not questioning his own motives.

Crouch put his hand on Severus's shoulder, causing the younger wizard to flinch, but as if he had not noticed, Crouch said, "Continue on, continue on. She is fortunate to have such a loyal Deputy."

Severus stared at the man until he dropped his hand from his shoulder, though his smile didn't fade.

"I am going up to see Minerva now. Good night, Professor Snape," Crouch said with a smile and a nod. "I will be sure to tell her that I am impressed by your enthusiasm for your job."

Severus could not tell whether the man was serious or mocking him, but as Crouch turned to give the password to the gargoyle, Severus took hold of his arm.

"Understand something, Crouch," he said slowly, his voice like ice, "if I discover that you have misled or betrayed us, or that you have betrayed or hurt Minerva in anyway, I will kill you, and I will kill you with a clear conscience."

The older wizard chuckled. "Will you, indeed, my friend? Will you indeed?" He turned to the gargoyle and gave the password, then looked back and said softly, "Sleep well, Professor Snape, sleep well and with a clear conscience."

Crouch disappeared, his lanky form swallowed by the shadows as the spiral staircase carried him up to Minerva, and the gargoyle closed behind him, leaving Severus feeling as though he had been the one warned and dismissed. There was something very unnerving about that wizard, very unnerving and very peculiar.

NEXT: Chapter Eight, No more may gulls cry at their ears.
Severus begins meeting with Hermione and lending his assistance. (February 1998)
Characters: Hermione Granger, Severus Snape.

A/N: Just a reminder that this is an AU story and is not DH-compliant in any way. The ADMM-backstory comes from Resolving a Misunderstanding ("RaM"), which is available here on ffnet. RaM is set primarily in the summer of 1957 and the years leading up to that point, so Death's Dominion takes place about forty years after that story ends.