A Promise to Be Better 2

author: Raven Dancer

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling except for the Drs. Barnes and Beryl. I receive no monetary compensation for these works.

summary: Dumbledore struggles with Snape's moods while the students try to adjust.

Dumbledore must have fallen asleep somewhere around when the tranquilizing dart hit Leaphorn because the sun was just coming through the windows hitting his face and he didn't recall what happened in the mystery. Straightening his glasses he peered at the clock by the bed: 7:00 am. Well, not too bad, didn't over-sleep. Something seemed to be off, though, and he looked about the room wondering what was missing.

"Well, good morning Headmaster," Snape came into the room drying his hair and wearing a towel.

"Did you ever locate my clothing last night? Or did you just sit and have a good laugh over tricking me to sleep with that Healer, Barnes?" he managed to be extremely pissed-off. Dumbledore sat up a little straighter, almost feeling embarrassed at being caught when he realized he was the Headmaster, he was in charge. Folding his arms he summoned a stern demeanor.

"I do not resort to tricking people, Severus," he sounded as firm as possible. Snape sneered.

"Oooh, noo, 'just lie down a minute while I get Dobby," Snape whined in his best Dumbledore-impression, "I'll just scan you again while Albus finds your clothes," he changed and mimicked Barnes. The Potions Master's glare settled fully on the older man's face.

Dumbledore had to turn his head desperately trying not to laugh. But a snort broke through, then snickering while Snape stood in glorious anger.

"I'll just take that as a 'Yes, Severus, we did outfox you, didn't we," he said in a disgusted tone. The older man tossed the covers back and got out of bed.

"Half a moment, I'm sure I've some things for you to wear," the snickering continued.

"Oh, don't put yourself out, Headmaster. I'm sure the students will understand my coming to teach potions in A TOWEL!" he spat out. "I'm sure this happens to Flitwick and McGonagall all the time. And I know I've caught Hagrid in his jimjams at least once," he brushed past Dumbledore and snatched the comb off the bureau, sulking over to the chair to sit and attempt to detangle his hair. Still chuckling the Headmaster pulled out suitable leggings, a shirt and socks.

"You can borrow one of my robes, Severus," he offered.

"Oh, wonderful. Dress-up," he accepted the clothes offering and continued to hack at his hair.

"Severus, stop that," Dumbledore took the comb away, batting the snarling man's hands away and began to ease the teeth through the protesting hair. He quickly subdued the tangles.

"Looks good, Severus. You should use my conditioner more often," he ran "his hand over Snape's shoulder, trying to get a read on his true emotions. Snape jerked away.

"Oh, no. No energy bursts this morning. I have to teach class today," he growled. Dumbledore simply invaded his personal space, leaning over the chair and snaring the irate man in a firm hug.

"Yes, you are going to teach today. Then I expect you up here tonight after dinner for a review of your week. I'll probably insist you sleep here tonight just to be sure you do sleep," he growled right back. Snape held his stiff stance for a moment more, then dropped the facade, leaning back into the embrace.

"ok," he said quietly, stunning Dumbledore with his acquiescence.

"Need to dress, Albus," he carefully untangled himself from the hug. Once clothed, he went to the Headmaster's closet. Dumbledore also dressed and joined him to select a robe.

"Clothes horse," Snape muttered as he pushed through the long row of robes. There was a wide range of colors and materials as Dumbledore was expected to be able to dress for an incredibly wide range of activities. A headmaster of a prestigious school needed to be suitably attired.

"Here, just back off," Dumbledore retorted. He flipped through the darker end of the spectrum looking at several viable candidates before pulling out a green robe so dark that was nearly black. It was made from a heavy material, the dungeons were cold and Snape needed to keep warm.

"Thank you," the Potions Master said stiffly, moving away from the closet and pulling on the robes. the Headmaster pulled on a set of dark wine colored robes and reached for his wand.

"Just a second, Severus," the older man stopped him and bade him to turn around. He ran his wand over the robes, widening the shoulders to accommodate Snape's larger expanse and trimming the waist slightly. The length was about right, needing only to be let it out a bit.

"There, now they don't look borrowed," Dumbledore tweaked the collar a bit before allowing Snape to get his boots. Together they went down to the great hall for breakfast.

The day progressed quickly. Most of the 7th year students had heard about the change in the Potions Master and came ready to test the waters. Testing Snape had become a science for many of them over the years, pushing and prodding to see what exactly they could get away with on any given day.

Some just shaved an inch or so off the homework assignment. He countered by giving full credit to the parchments that were well written and within a few inches of the requirement. Others, of proper length or not, were not given full credit. He carefully pointed out errors, grammar and otherwise, as well as thought and reason, never mind the actual length of the thing.

Some dawdled in class, not doing the work they were suppose to be doing. Since the entire 7th year was independent/small group projects Snape did very little lecturing or testing. It was the research and project that drove the grading. The Potions Master bit his lip, not criticizing the lack of progress, but subtly rewarding the people and teams that were working diligently. When Fred Weasley and Alicia Spinnet managed to melt down their cauldron he fought back the initial reaction. His eyes flashed in anger, but he kept his mouth firmly closed until he could speak rationally.

"Clean it up, Weasley, Spinnet. You'd best check your ingredients for a combustible combination," he managed to get out in an almost normal tone. No points deducted as he turned and walked back to his desk. Sitting down he continued to review project notes.

"Flores and Campbell, you should look at the amount of foxglove you're using. It's rather passed the dose an average man or woman could tolerate," Snape remarked as he perused the set of ingredients.

"You could nearly halve it and still have a therapeutic potion," he continued absently. Most of the class glanced at him, wondering when he'd snap and return to mean and nasty. To their cautious delight, he stayed an even course through the entirety of the class and was reasonably accessible to their questions.

"All right, who's kidnapped Snape and put a ringer in his place?" Flores deadpanned as the Gryffindor contingent went up to lunch.

"I don't know, but I'd like to slip them a little something," Fred laughed.

"That was actually a decent lab session," Alicia added as they tromped up the stairs.

Snape made it through 'til dinner. He'd skipped lunch, not wanting to face his colleagues again. He was being 'lightly teased' as Minerva put it, by many of the staff. They also took his change with a grain of salt figuring he'd break down eventually and start yelling and screaming again. Only Lupin smiled and quietly supported his attempts at being less intractable.

Of course, he was still brewing Lupin's potion monthly, Snape kind of hoped that wasn't the reason behind his acceptance of the 'new, slightly used' Potions Master. He slipped into the great hall and made his way to the staff table. Lupin smiled and motioned slightly, indicating an empty chair. He moved silently passed students and staff alike, taking the offered seat.

"So, Severus, good day?" Lupin smiled amiably.

"Only one meltdown, Remus, so it has been," Snape replied. Lupin looked at him strangely a moment as he realized Snape had addressed him by his first name. Not drawing attention to that miraculous event, Lupin poured out tea into both cups.

"Just the one? Must have been George's. He was useless this afternoon," Lupin continued in a casual way.

"No, Fred and Spinnet. Probably did it on purpose, actually. Wanted to annoy me," Snape reported factually. In fact, he was right, but for him it was an educated guess.

"Did they succeed?" Lupin passed sugar and cream to his colleague who thoughtfully addressed his cup.

"Well, almost. Counting to ten isn't very useful in English. I've switched to goblin for the really big annoying accidents," Snape replied, stirring his tea thoroughly. Lupin laughed aloud.

"Ok, who are you and what did you do with Severus Snape," he teased. Snape just sighed and sipped his tea. Yes, counting in goblin was much more soothing as it required concentration to get the gutturals correct. And he liked the snarling tone of the words.

"You're counting now, aren't you?" Lupin pestered him. He sneered in reply, but continued the mental count. Fortunately, food began to appear and Lupin's attention was rerouted. Snape placed some ambiguous casserole onto his plate with fresh green beans and yellow squash. He would make it through this meal then hide for the weekend. No more 'casual' remarks about his change in demeanor. No more curious looks from staff and students. He was damned tired and wished to either sleep all Saturday or lock himself in the dungeons and pitch an awful fit.

The latter was winning at the moment. He glared at Hagrid who made a comment about newts changing spots a little too loudly while several other professors laughed. Snape knew they were laughing about him. Again he cursed Dumbledore and his insistence he change his methods. The student's incredulity was almost tolerable; they were careful to be out of earshot when they made their jokes. Plus, they weren't totally convinced the Potions Master had actually changed so they were not brave enough to laugh at him.

Not so the staff. It was a small community and since he had not been forthcoming with the reasons for his change, nor did Dumbledore see fit to setting the lot of them straight, he was a convenient target for fun. He pushed casserole around for a few minutes, tried to sip some cold juice, then just gave up, sitting back. The stress, and the inability to blow it off in his conventional way, caused his stomach to ache. He was stuck at table until at least dessert.

The Headmaster looked over at the Potions Master noting the full plate and the laughter around him. Snape was very aware he was the brunt of the jokes and he was trying very hard not to revert to his old ways of dealing with it. It really was unfair leaving him there to deal with all the changes so Dumbledore pushed away his plate and stood up, excusing himself.

He quickly moved down the row of professors pulling himself up into his most dignified "I'm in Charge" stance, telling Snape to come with him immediately. Snape ducked his head once before pulling himself out of his chair and following along without a comment. Several staff noted the removal and continued to joke and speculate long after they'd left.

Snape stayed in the Headmaster's rooms overnight. Lupin and McGonagall had taken to 'checking up' on him the past two weeks and Snape really didn't want to deal with their supposed concern. At least Dumbledore was willing to leave him be for the most part. They did discuss his past week's lessons and what had worked well for him.

Once they had a positive base working, Dumbledore began to look at things that didn't work and together they discussed some possible fixes. The biggest problem for Snape was lack of an outlet for his anger and stress. The Headmaster was astute enough not to make any quick suggestions, but rather let the Potions Master stew over his own ideas for the best part of Saturday afternoon. The wizard had finally settled in a comfortable chair with tea and a murder mystery from Dumbledore's shelves losing himself in the book.

At some point the younger man had dozed off, not noting when his mentor adjusted the chair for a more comfortable nap. A quilt was gently tucked around him with a simple sleeping charm to keep his dreams safe.

Waking an hour later, Snape sleepily regarded the room around him. Dumbledore was not in sight, but Fawkes was busily munching some seeds and fruit. A sneakoscopes spun silently on the mantle of the fireplace. The small pewter figures (a variety of magical and muggle creatures) on the bookshelves were racing each another. He watched a rather large polar bear lumber along while the dragon took to the air and flew the rest of the way past the row of paperbacks.

Snape decided he– felt pretty calm right now, not stressed.

Maybe he should just come up here to read and relax until he could find a better outlet for his stress. He thought he might like to go out for a long rambling walk once he'd had a few good nights sleep. Maybe go into Hogsmeade and browse through the bookstore. The owner had a large selection of muggle fiction as well as a used book section. He had at one time enjoyed bringing some of his old books in to trade for different used ones.

At one time he'd enjoyed a lot of different things. Going to the theater, walking the countryside, looking for different plants on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Even flying around on his old broom for a lark. Why had he stopped? He certainly couldn't blame it all on Potter's son coming to school here. Oh, certainly, the boy had brought him a flood of memories, none very good. He'd started getting more and more angry that first year.

But that year also brought Quirrel and Voldemort. That had more than set him on edge. He knew Voldemort was alive and was growing stronger. He'd had to go back to the 'fold' over the summer, made his apologies to the Dark Lord. Suffered a hell of a lot of physical pain from trying to convince the creature he was faithful. He wasn't even sure if Voldemort had accepted him back. He used to use his hatred of James Potter and especially Sirius Black to maintain his facade in front of the Death Eaters. But much of that had been stripped from him with the aftermath of the Tri-Wizards' Tournament.

Black was innocent. He'd nursed such a resounding hatred for the man for nearly two decades only to find him innocent of being a traitor. Snape had even had to face the fact the Black that had sent him to face the werewolf had been an immature, jealous child.

And the werewolf! He'd tried desperately to sort through all his prejudice and hatred of Lupin so that he'd be able to work with him this year both at school and in the fight against Voldemort. He had to get rid of his anger and hate if only to be able to help defeat that evil! Dumbledore and Barnes had worked all summer with him while he convalesced from various mishaps.

It was all so tiring. A movement caught his eye and he found himself looking into Dumbledore's concerned eyes.

"I think I see some smoke coming from your ears," the older man began gently. A tea tray had appeared from somewhere and he watched as two cups were prepared.

"I'm not smoking," he snapped. He sighed: that felt good. Which meant it was bad. He sighed again, now dejected.

"Sorry," he mumbled, accepting the cup of tea. Dumbledore pushed a small tray of cheese cubes and chunked fruit towards the slouching man.

"Have a little snack, Severus," he selected a piece of cheddar and apple. Another sigh. But the man reached over and selected a mild gouda and several grapes. They sat in nearly companionable silence devouring the food. Snape hadn't realized how hungry he'd become.

Crackers appeared with several condiments. Sitting up straighter, the Potions Master spread a little honey mustard on a bumpy rye cracker with some sliced cheese for good measure. Pleased that Snape was finally eating, Dumbledore continued to refresh the tray surreptitiously. New tidbits kept popping up and the wizard quietly ate his way through them.

More tea was poured. Some sweet dessert breads came up with whipped butter and jams. Snape had devoured several slices when he seemed to realize he was eating. He looked at his companion who was smiling.

"Barnes will be glad your appetite has returned," he commented. Snape squirmed a bit.

"Probably," he managed to reply. He sat back a moment.

"Oh, don't stop, Severus. There's no way you'll spoil your appetite for dinner," Dumbledore sliced a piece of berry pie in half and slid it to him. Snape picked up a fork and took a small bite. A second followed as the sweet/tart filling appealed to him. With a flick of his fingers, the Headmaster sent the other half to ^the man's plate. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You won't spoil yours, but I definitely would spoil mine," the older man said with a smile. Snape drank tea and continued on the pie.

"Have you thought of any solutions for your anger? the older man carefully asked. He watched Snape set his fork down and sip more tea. It wouldn't be good to be angry now. Easier, but not good. The Potions Master sighed.

"I think I might just come to your study and read for the next few days, until I've rested up enough," he eyed his tea trying to make sense of the dregs in the bottom. It looked like a large dog's head. A grim? He supposed Trelawny would have a field day. He swirled the leaves quickly.

"Then, I think I might start walking again. I used to a long while back. Perhaps into Hogsmeade to the books seller," he looked at the new pattern in the leaves. Still a dog. damn. Dumbledore was being silent, so he decided he needed to add something more.

"I used to read more, trade books in town. I don't know if they still do that, but I could get my own books. Might take the broom sometimes. I think I still like to fly," he swirled the leaves again. What was it with grims today? The Headmaster reached out and took the cup, glancing at the leaves.

"What are you seeing in there, Severus," he asked.

"A dog, or a grim. What about you?" the younger man asked, glad to get away from his ideas.

"Same thing. How odd," the cup was refilled with tea and passed back to Snape.

"I think you've got a good start, Severus. I know you are most comfortable up here or brewing potions in your lab. I also think taking up reading again will be good. I have lots of books if you wish to go through mine," the Headmaster pushed another plate of bread towards him. As Snape selected a piece, Dumbledore continued.

"I know I'm asking a lot from Severus. Especially since you're risking yourself spying for me," the bread settled back on the plate. "You've been slowly self-destructing this summer, aside from the physical torment from Voldemort. I want to help you as much as I possibly can so that you can survive. If you feel secure in my study, then by all means spend as much time as you need here. If you have nightmares, come to me and I'll shield your sleep. If you can't handle the students or staff, I'll find a substitute to take over until you're ready," Dumbledore reached out to touch his friend's chin, raising his face to meet his eyes.

"I'm asking you to risk your life, to help save all these people who part of the time ignore you and the rest of the time treat you less than fairly. I don't want you to die. I don't want you to fall apart. I want my friend to be here when we've finally overthrown Voldemort."

"I want to be here, too, Albus," Snape said very softly. Dumbledore's eyes glittered.

"I can't tell you how good that makes me feel," he gently stroked Snape's cheek before removing his hand. Snape fidgeted with the bread, breaking it into smaller pieces before beginning to eat it. DumblÍedore was right, he did feel safe here.

"If I stay up here the rest of the staff won't be able to see you privately," Snape pointed out, now plying his bread with a little whipped butter and strawberry jam.

"If they require privacy I can just put a wall up," the Headmaster said dissuasively with a slight wave of his hand. A stone wall separated them from his office area.

"Or I could just send you into the bedroom to read," he added with a slight shrug.

"What if you desire some privacy?" Snape pressed on.

"That's what doors are for. I have the bedroom or loo. Or another wall. I think we can work it out," he smiled slightly at the younger man.

"Plus," Dumbledore continued very carefully, "I thought you might speak with Jeffrey Barnes about your anger." Snape looked up at the Headmaster striving to contain an angry outburst. Wasn't it enough he was going through hell trying to make these changes? Did he have to parade his failures and problems in front of someone else? Dumbledore was no fool, he knew Snape was furious at the suggestion, but he didn't let it lie between them.

"He's healed you several times; you seem to get along with him. He is a full healer, he could be a good sounding board for you. Especially when you're mad at me," he smiled at the Potions Master.

"How could I possibly get mad with Albus Dumbledore," Snape could not contain the sneer. But he did wipe it off his face as quickly as possible.

"Ok, I'll see Barnes when I go into town. Make an appointment there," Snape shook his head negatively as his mouth agreed.

"Good," Dumbledore smiled broadly, "now what about a short walk outside. See if the children have tormented the squid into coming up and eating them yet." Snape smirked.

"No such luck, Headmaster, it only eats little fish. I checked years ago when Lester Spinnet decided he should melt down a cauldron a day just to see what I'd do. I suggested he clean the beast for detention and made several broad hints it was a decided carnivore," the wizard smiled at the memory. Dumbledore laughed.

"One of your more creative detentions, I see. And did he stop melting cauldrons?" he continued as they moved out the office door.

"Eventually. Turned out he detested spiders. I had such a need for good webs and live spiders that year. Rewrote my plans to include potions that utilized them until he stopped," getting students to obey sometimes took imagination. Snape wondered what had happened to the creative detentions that served a purpose; more than the punitive ones he'd devolved to. Scrubbing bedpans, cauldrons and toilets certainly didn't involve much thought. Senseless punishment.

"You're smoking again," Dumbledore nudge his friend, moving him down the hallway.

"I used to enjoy detentions more than I do now," Snape confessed. Dumbledore's eyebrows went far up to his hairline.

"Severus Snape, you enjoyed detentions? Tsk Tsk!" he teased the blushing Potions Master.

"I never would have guessed," eyebrows lowered and the Headmaster smirked. They managed to make it to the level of the great hall. The sound of talking and laughter met their ears. Looking into the hall they could see students sitting around the tables talking or playing games. Pots of tea, jugs of juice and plates of snacks were scattered about.

Continuing they made it to the front doors, which were flung open letting in the warm September sun. The courtyard was not as crowded as the hall, but students were about talking and playing. Many smiled and greeted the Headmaster and Potions Master as they made their ways across to the stairs leading down to the grounds. Snape managed to return the greetings, if not always with a smile, at least respectfully. This pleased Dumbledore and he affectionately rested his hand on the wizard's shoulder as they made it to the lawn and garden.

"It's not so hard, Severus. You're doing fine," he said quietly. The hand fell away and they walked in companionable silence over the pathway to the lake. There were students here, too. Some out on a couple boats Hagrid kept, some lolling about on the shore. A few adventuresome ones were poking through the water getting feet wet and trying to catch small fish.

Normally Snape would chase the students out of the water at the least. Most likely find some reason to shoo them away from the edges where they rested. So in turmoil over them all being so happy, so carefree, when he was struggling with seeing Voldemort and having to follow commands that revolted him. All to protect these children so they could be free to waste their lives laying about and doing absolutely nothing. He came to a full halt trying not to glare but knowing his face was not listening to him.

Dumbledore again saw the 'smoke' and followed his companion's gaze towards the children. He tugged on Snape's sleeve and managed to get him to sit on a bench close to the water's edge.

"I'd offer a gnut for your thoughts but I think it's going to take at least a dozen galleons," Dumbledore said seriously.

"Hmm? What? No, my thoughts aren't worth the muck on that child's foot," he muttered morosely. Not worth anything at all.

"Let me be the judge of that, Professor," Dumbledore pulled up straight. He waited patiently while Snape sorted out his thoughts.

"I guess I'm angry because they can be children," he finally whispered almost too quietly to hear.

"They can be children and I never could," he looked out over the lake, rowboats skittering clumsily along as the students attempted to race one another. Dumbledore suddenly realized he might just be out of his depth on this one and chose to remain silent.

"I shouldn't grudge them their childhood. I know that. But somewhere along the line I have come to resent them. I've lost my perspective, what little I managed to find when Voldemort was overthrown the first time. Now I must find it again if I'm to help you destroy him for good," dark, black eyes staring over the lake no longer seeing anything before him. Just memories haunting him. Taunting him. Snape finally put both hands to his face and rubbed his eyes, exhausted again.

It was more than the petty hates the man had nurtured over the decades, it was deeper than that. So much deeper, so much more hurt that Dumbledore couldn't even place it in the equation that gave the sum of Snape's life. His own childhood was so far away from him that he didn't think about losses and gains from it. He'd lived a long time. Snape didn't have the luxury of that perspective. He could only look back over dark times and worse. Was it right for Dumbledore to ask him to give up so much? To change so much?

The older wizard placed his arm over the Potions Master's shoulder and gave him a quick hug. The only thing he could give. Snape lowered his hands and glanced over at his friend.

"Sorry, just a little melancholy," he said, "I'll work on my anger. Maybe you're right, maybe Barnes can help me."

"Don't be sorry, Severus. Your life was not easy to begin with and you've done the best you can with the choices you've been given," Dumbledore said gently.

"I'm not too sure about that, but I suppose to get better I need to accept that as true and move on. No point in lamenting over the stuff I've messed up on!" Snape said, not too convinced. He wanted to believe Dumbledore, but he'd had years to stew and angst and tear apart his choices. He wasn't really sure he had done well at all. Again a squeeze from Dumbledore, and gentle pat on the back. They sat watching the children play.