Hope is a Dangerous Thing

Thirteen

2008

Minerva stirred as she heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Lately, she found herself dozing off far more frequently than she was used to. She shifted herself into a more upright position, wincing slightly. Any discomfort was dispelled completely by her surprise when two figures entered the room, each taking up a chair on either side of the bed.

She was quite sure she did not imagine that they both only seemed able to meet her eye briefly.

'Well, well,' she said, glancing between them. 'To what do I owe this pleasure?'

There was silence, but Hermione smiled widely at her.

Minerva let out a laugh. 'Don't tell me you have put aside your differences finally!'

'In a manner of speaking, yes,' Hermione replied, sending a swift look across the bed.

'Indeed,' Severus agreed, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair.

'How? Minerva questioned. 'I never expected you to leave here last night and get straight to making grand gestures, Severus. I'd anticipated a few days, at least.'

'Do not…' came a low growl to her right.

Hermione broke in with a chuckle. 'Actually, we simply realised you were right, of course. We had a full and frank conversation about it and came to see that we both want the same thing. The past has been picked apart enough, already; it is time to move on.'

A full and frank conversation, eh? thought Minerva, is that what they call it these days? She could not fail to spot the new twinkle in the eye of her young friend, or fail to notice how fidgety her usually collected former colleague was. It was as she glanced at him that she decided to take pity on them. She could only imagine what a tumult his mind must be in.

'Well, this wonderful news!' Minerva reached out to squeeze Hermione's hand. 'I hope you will be very happy together.'

She felt her smile falter at her own words as she considered she would be unable to witness their time together. Thankfully, it seemed to go unnoticed by her companions.

'We are very grateful for your assistance,' said Hermione.

'I prefer, interference,' interposed a dry voice.

'Do not thank me.' Minerva feigned a look of innocence. 'I was merely an impartial observer.'

Severus scoffed loudly and Minerva glared at him expectantly.

'You have never been an impartial observer in your life,' he explained.

'Well, you would know,' Minerva shot back haughtily.

'I was nowhere near as bad as you!'

'A likely story; do you remember that dictionary I bought you one Christmas? The definition of 'biased' simply had a picture of you beneath it.'

'Ah, yes, I remember it; imagine my surprise when I flicked through to the next letter and found a photo of you beneath the word—' He broke off abruptly.

Hermione was watching him with raised eyebrows. 'Which word?'

'Never mind,' Severus muttered.

Minerva had to bite her lip against tears of laughter. She took up her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. Good Merlin, that back and forth had kept them occupied for weeks, becoming progressively more and more insulting. It was a wonder they hadn't come to blows over it.

'It wasn't actually a photo of me, as I recall.' Minerva replaced her glasses and gave Hermione a pained look. 'It was a cat's backside.'

Hermione let out a snort, before sending a scolding look across the bed. 'Shameful behaviour.'

Severus shrugged.

The clock chimed the hour and Hermione turned to her. 'I will have to leave you to it—I have a detention to supervise this evening.' She stood and kissed Minerva on the cheek. 'Good night, Minerva, I'll see you in the morning.' Then she dithered, smoothing down her robes, before speaking across the bed. 'See you later?'

Severus nodded minutely and Minerva was only able to hold in her laughter until the door closed.

'I think you are blushing, Severus.'

'I do not blush, thank you,' he stated firmly.

She raised her eyebrows at him, before smiling ruefully. 'I have no wish to tease you.'

'I do not believe that for a minute.'

'I told you a grand gesture would work.' She bit her lip, trying to imagine what it might have entailed.

He let out a reluctant chuckle of his own. 'Hermione was right, there was no grand gesture… I am quite sure it owes much to your interference. I am grateful.'

He gave her a warm look and she smiled broadly, letting her head relax against the pillow with a small sigh. Had she been alone, she would have allowed herself a small cry. As it was, she pushed against the onslaught of emotions and memories to stay in the present.

'I'm glad,' she murmured.

Truly, she was.

'I just hope I do not make a meal of it.'

Minerva considered for a moment. 'Just be yourself and you will be fine.'

He scoffed. 'She subscribes to something similar, but I'm not sure it should apply to me.'

She looked at him and gave his hand a squeeze. 'Your true self,' she clarified, 'not the person who did his best to be despised because he thought that's all he deserved.'

She was sure he had managed to reclaim himself in the years that had passed since the war. She saw no reason why he could not hold on to it in the years to come.

'If it all works out, as I am sure it will, you will be very fortunate, and so will she. You will not give up your life as you know it, I presume?'

He shook his head. Minerva was unsurprised and in some ways she could see it was for the best. Logistically, it might prove difficult for them, one working in the Muggle world, and the other tied to a Magical boarding school. But she could see he would benefit from having something that was separate—something that was his.

'You should know that the Ministry will be appointing my replacement imminently. They offered to wait until… But I feel there is little need. Hermione is the only applicant.'

'I see.'

' I… I sometimes wonder if she really wants it.'

'What do you mean?'

'I think she will miss teaching and I wonder if it will bore her. Not only that, it can be such a drain—I don't need to tell you how demanding the role is… It is almost like you are never off duty.'

'Well, I admit I was rather busy during my brief tenure, but I don't recall Dumbledore doing a great deal on the day-to-day, as you yourself used to regularly gripe.'

A sharp laugh burst from her at that. 'Now, now; we always swore our post-staff meeting debrief was strictly "once said, never to be repeated"!'

He smirked.

'What I mean is, it is difficult to cultivate personal relationships outside of it.'

'Ah.'

'One of the reasons her marriage failed is that Weasley could not cope with the distance.'

'I am not Weasley.'

'Good Merlin, you are not.'

His expression started to cloud. 'What are you driving at, Minerva?'

'It may not be easy, is all, Severus, for you. You may have to sacrifice more than she will be able to.'

'You think I will be unable to share her with Hogwarts?'

'I would hate to think this place came between you…' She groaned and closed her eyes. 'Look, I just wish circumstances were different, that is all. I suppose I simply wish I had more time to be here.'

He said nothing, but he did shift as if uncomfortable.

'In many ways, I do not see her staying long after this, especially now you are in the picture… She has spent the majority of her life cooped up in this castle, much like you did. I think she will develop a taste for life outside it. And do you know what? I hope that she does. I do not doubt she will make an excellent Headmistress, but I do not want her to spend all her years here.'

'Stop worrying,' he admonished. 'We're not pieces on your chess board. You're starting to remind me of Dumbledore, trying to be several moves in front of the pieces you're manoeuvring.'

There was a smirk on his face as he said it and she scowled at him. 'That's a low blow, Severus.'

'Sorry,' he replied, sounding not remotely sorry.

He had made his point, however, and Minerva relaxed. It really was not her problem. She had achieved what she had wanted and her ability to influence or interfere was rapidly declining. It was time to let it all go.

They remained in companionable silence for a time, until Minerva caught him glancing up at the clock on the wall. She rolled her eyes ruefully.

'Go to her; her detention will be over shortly,' she muttered, feigning irritation.

He looked at her sheepishly.

'Go on,' she urged, with a laugh. 'It's nearly time, anyway.'

'Good night.' He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

'Oh,' Minerva squeaked in surprise. 'I am honoured.'

'Don't get used to it,' he cautioned.

As he disappeared through the door, her smile dissipated and she tiredly pulled her glasses away, placing them to the side. Her eyes pricked and she let out a shaky sigh. She was happy, pleased and relieved. And in some ways, proud as well. But as she extinguished the sconces and set the room into darkness, burying her head into the pillow, she felt sorrow, pain, and regret.

It would pass, as it always did.

Just as long as the sun continued to rise in the morning, she would be fine.