Let Me Die For You - The Damned Goblet (p1) Chapter 78 - Minerva, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Sorry for the delay! This chapter took a lot of work to get it just right. Everything takes more work at this point of the story, because of the maddening excess of complications I managed to pile up, but portraying the explosive Gryffindor-Slytherin relationship between Severus and Minerva is particularly challenging to my nerves, especially when Severus is at his most hateful and Minerva at her most stressed-out. I'm relatively satisfied with the result, though, and I'm confident you'll find it interesting even if you don't really want to read any more about this endless night.

I had to cut this Minerva chapter in two, because it was getting too long, but this first part is still very long (10k), so set aside some time to read it without interruptions.

And feel free to review! Feedback and encouragement are always appreciated :)

Chapter 78

Having been Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress for over two decades, Minerva was more than used to being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, called by some colleague or Prefect who required her attention. It happened countless times every year, rarely for any serious reason, so she wasn't too startled nor alarmed when something jarred her awake only a few hours after falling asleep.

She felt instinctively alarmed, however, when instead of finding some familiar Patronus or house-elf waiting to deliver a message her drowsy senses detected the presence of an actual person moving around her room.

"Who is there?" she demanded, sitting up and fumbling for her spectacles in the dark.

All the candles and lamps in the room suddenly turned on, filling the place with blinding light.

"If I were an enemy come to murder you in your sleep, you would already be dead," drawled a familiar voice, coming from a familiar figure standing at the end of her bed. "You should always reach for your wand first, Minerva. You might not be able to aim well without your glasses, but you could at least transfigure your pillow into a shield. Or duck out of the way with your wand already secured in your hand."

"Goodness, Severus!" exclaimed Minerva, clutching her fluttering chest to keep her heart from jumping out. "You can't just walk into my bedchamber like this! What are you-?"

"Morphing into your Animagus form and hiding under the bed also would be smarter than asking who's there," drawled on Severus. "Your witless cat has better surviving instincts than you, Minerva, honestly."

"Given that only people I fully trust can access my chambers, I see no reason to be overly paranoid," she defended herself, pushing her spectacles up her nose before glancing at the bedside clock. "I hope for your sake you haven't woken me up at two in the morning just to insult me, Severus. What happened? And why didn't you send a house elf?"

"Hogwarts' elves cannot be trusted, I have already told you that,' said Severus as he looked appraisingly around the room, his sharp eyes seeming to catalogue every detail of the decor. "We cannot risk the Headmaster intercepting our messages, especially not now that he might be suspicious of you too."

"You could have at least knocked, though," huffed Minerva. She climbed out of bed and reached for her night robe, wrapping it tightly around herself while she fumbled for her slippers. "You're always complaining that I intrude in your personal space without announcing myself, and yet you just barged into my bedchamber in the middle of the- what do you think you're doing?"

As if to prove that he didn't give a knut about her privacy, Severus had invited himself into her dressing room and had begun opening doors and drawers, his long arm currently rummaging inside her wardrobe as if looking for a pair of robes to wear.

"Severus Snape!" she thundered, hurriedly sliding on her slippers and stalking after him with her wand firmly in hand. "Get your nose out of my closet this instant! What is wrong with you? If you're drunk... you are, aren't you?" Minerva rounded on him and took a sniff close to his face. "Yes, I can smell it on you, you're drunk!"

"Barely," sneered Severus, stepping out of reach of her nose. "I just had an overnight drink, nothing you have not indulged in every single night of your life. Now make yourself useful, if you're going to hover. Where do you keep your knickers?"

"Excuse me?" asked Minerva dangerously. "You better not be looking for my knickers. Even if you're drunk-"

"I'm not looking for anything," snapped Severus, slamming shut the door of her wardrobe and opening her shoe organizer instead. "I need to hide something from Dumbledore, and my quarters have been compromised." Seeming to lose patience, Severus waved his wand around her dressing room, casting some silent spell that pointed him towards the correct door. "I would keep it in Spinner's End, but for all I know the Dark Lord is staying there in my absence, and Dumbledore might have been sniffing around my house too, so..."

Severus pulled open the first drawer of her chiffonier, his dark eyes glimmering in triumph when he saw the contents.

"So you thought you could hide it under my underwear?" asked Minerva sharply.

"One of my most brilliant ideas," he smirked. "Breasts and pussies make Dumbledore deeply uncomfortable, just the thought of female undergarments will have him scampering out of your mind if he tries to legilimize you. And I doubt he would be so thorough searching your intimate drawers as he is searching mine."

Minerva pursed her lips, torn. She was relieved that Severus wasn't doing this for some immature, drunken reason —getting hold of her knickers was a common dare amongst Slytherin students—, but letting him stick his fingers in her underwear felt like overstepping some boundary between them.

It also disturbed her to hear that Dumbledore had gone so far as to search Severus' intimate drawers, and she didn't want to give the nosy old man any reason to search hers, but it was probably true that anything hidden under her knickers would be safe from his scrutiny.

"You could hide it in my cottage," she suggested as an alternative. "It is safe, and you can give the elf instructions to smuggle it away if someone goes looking."

"Absolutely not," said Severus with finality. "I don't trust that elf, and even if I did, I need to keep these potions close at hand. This place is perfect, and it's hardly an inconvenience for you, so stop whining."

Minerva bit back another retort. She wanted nothing more than to kick the infuriating Slytherin out of her chambers, but she knew whatever he was trying to hide from the Headmaster must be intended to help Harry, so she couldn't say no, she had no choice but to let him use her delicates as camouflage.

So she pursed her lips again and watched helplessly as Severus knelt in front of her chiffonier, spelled open a wooden box he had brought with him, and carefully picked up a phial filled with ominous black liquid.

"That's the potion you were brewing weeks ago, isn't it?" she asked uneasily, unable to hold her tongue when he saw what he intended to hide. "The one that used human blood and Dark Magic as ingredients?"

"The Dark Magic is a catalyser, not an ingredient," corrected Severus as he wrapped the phial in purple lace and buried it at the bottom of a drawer.

"I don't find the distinction reassuring," huffed Minerva. "That potion melted half your cauldrons, Severus! It is dark, dangerous and foul-smelling, and you're wrapping it in garments that have direct contact with my bare skin!"

"The phials are charmed hermetic, unbreakable and anti-corruption," argued Severus dismissively. "You can feel the Dark Magic if you touch them, but it will not affect you unless you intentionally break the seal and inject the substance directly into your bloodstream. Even if the phials posed any threat," he added, lifting a see-through brassiere with his pinkie finger and leering sideways at her, "I doubt anything in this drawer has had contact with your skin in quite a while. You probably haven't worn this since the sixties."

Flushing, Minerva snatched the piece of lingerie from her colleague's hands and scowled at him.

"For your information, it hasn't been nearly that long," she said hotly. "When was the last time you went on a date?"

Severus scoffed.

"Dating is not required to have sex, Minerva. I had a hooker over Easter Break, since you ask. It was more time-efficient than a date, and neither had to bother with small talk, she didn't even ask me my name before getting down on her knees."

Minerva wrinkled her nose. Of course she wasn't surprized to hear that Severus managed his sexual needs in such a cold, impersonal way —it was right on character—, but she would have preferred not to expressly know. It was bad enough that she had seen the man fully naked, she didn't want to imagine him making efficient use of a prostitute as well.

"She was wearing something like this," elaborated Severus, picking up a black bustier and leering at her again. "At least for a while. I ripped it off at some point, had to reimburse her after-"

"What is that potion, anyway?" interrupted Minerva, not wanting to hear any more details. "If it requires anti-corruption phials, it can't be safe to give to a child. Are you sure Harry needs it?"

"This isn't for Potter," said Severus as he buried another phial deep into the drawer. "I would only give a dark potion to the brat as a very last resort, and I definitely would never give him anything with my blood in it. This potion is for myself. Technically Dumbledore has no grounds to confiscate it, but that has never stopped him before, he has a nasty habit of stealing or destroying dark things that don't belong to him."

Severus transferred the last phial and signalled Minerva to put back the garments she had taken before pushing closed the lingerie drawer. She had thought he was finished, but then he reached again inside the potions box —which seemed empty, but turned to contain more phials hidden under a false bottom— and opened another drawer.

"Now, see, that drawer I definitely use every day," she protested. "And I'm not comfortable letting you hide your dark experiments in my chambers, Severus. I thought this was for Harry, but-"

"This one is for Potter," he cut her off, holding a golden phial in the air for her to see. "And it's completely safe, not dark nor experimental at all. You might actually get lucky wearing underwear drenched with this potion, so perhaps you should pray some phial breaks." Severus picked up a pair of her regular knickers, scrunching his face in distaste. "Don't expect miracles, though, potions can only get you so far, and these bloomers are really off-putting."

Minerva flushed and glared again, feeling embarrassed and hating Severus for making her feel insecure, but then the meaning of his words sank in and her abashment was replaced by wide-eyed realization.

"Is that... Felix Felicis?" she asked in awe, shuffling closer to get a better look at the shimmering phials.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," sneered Severus. "Not that it's hard to recognize at sight, especially if they spell out the effects for you."

Very few potioneers in the world were capable of brewing Felix Felicis successfully, but Minerva knew better than to ask Severus if he was sure he had gotten it right. She also would rather not know if he had done it legally —some ingredients were highly regulated, not to mention rare and expensive, and it required a special licence to even own the type of cauldron necessary to brew liquid luck.

"Are you going to give it to Harry for the Third Task?" she asked with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

Severus shrugged.

"Probably not. If the Goblet made a fuss about Gillyweed, there's no chance it will allow Felix Felicis. Potter already got a warning, it would be too risky to give it to him." Handling the phials with much more care than he had bestowed to his dark experiment, Severus finished transferring the fabulous potion to its hiding location and climbed back to his feet. "I've considered taking it myself, though, to help me avoid detection during the task if I have to intervene, or to have more leeway with my Vow, better chances of finding a loop in the Goblet's restrictions."

"Do you think that would work?" asked Minerva seriously.

"I don't know. Felix Felicis doesn't alter reality, it can't make possible things that are impossible, but it might give me an edge, or it might interact with my Vow in some weird way and add to Potter's natural luck, who knows. It could also make me reckless and overconfident, however, and that might screw my chances instead of improving them, so I would rather not take it. Even if I decide not to use the potion at all, though, I did not spend six months brewing that bloody stuff to have it confiscated, so make sure there's nothing but underwear in your mind if you have to meet eyes with the Headmaster."

Minerva nodded absently, still staring at her chiffonier in dumbfounded disbelief. If someone had told her, a year ago, that she would one day agree to hide dark and illegal potions under her knickers, she would have thought they were more delirious than Sybill Trelawney. And yet here she was, going along with the plans of a drunk, unstable, paranoid former Death Eater who had no qualms barging into her chambers at two in the morning to hide compromising things in her intimate drawers. Helping him scheme against Albus Dumbledore, the Goblet of Fire and three different Ministries of Magic. So deeply involved already in this whole madness that she no longer kept count of how many laws, rules or moral principles she was complicit of bending or breaking under Severus' direction.

She glanced at her co-conspirator, who had also lost himself in thought staring at her suddenly very valuable chiffonier. Unlike her, Severus was fully dressed in formal teaching robes, but Minerva noticed that he looked rather dishevelled, his clothes unusually rumpled and dirty, his matted hair sprinkled with dust, and he had a few scrapes on his face and hands. What on earth had he been doing?

"What brought this on at two in the morning?" she inquired. "And what happened to you? You look as if you had been rolling around the floor."

Severus shrugged.

"The ceiling of my lab collapsed over my head," he said with affected nonchalance. "I did roll around the floor trying to burrow my way out."

"The ceiling... Goodness, Severus! Are you all right? What happened? Did some potion explode?"

"Not quite. It was a Blasting Curse. Several ones, actually. The passage to my personal quarters is also demolished, and part of my sitting room. My study is a wreck too." Severus' gaze hardened, and Minerva saw his left eye twitch like it always did when he wanted to strangle a student. "Someone broke in and completely trashed the place. Nearly destroyed these potions and threatened to tell Dumbledore I've been helping Potter."

Minerva's mouth fell open.

"Someone broke into your personal quarters? Who? And how do they know-?"

"It doesn't matter now," he waved her off dismissively. "I have the situation under control, but there is a possibility that Dumbledore will get involved. He might show up at my quarters at any moment, so you must stay away. Do not floo into my quarters under any circumstances tonight, is that clear?"

Minerva had a very bad feeling.

"What do you mean you have the situation under control? What did you do, Severus?"

"There was a threat. I neutralized it. I still have to decide what to do with the body, though."

"Body?" gasped Minerva. "You killed someone? Oh God, Severus, what have you done? You could go to Azkaban! After the business with Crouch, and with your criminal record-" she trailed off abruptly. "Are you laughing? How drunk are you?"

"I'm not drunk at all," said Severus smugly, suppressing a chuckle but still smirking.

"That makes it worse! You murder someone, not even drunk, and you laugh? And here I thought you were better than Sirius Black!"

Severus' amusement instantly vanished.

"Do not compare me with that arsehole," he hissed. "I haven't killed anyone, Minerva, and if I were to kill I would do it for good reasons, not to amuse myself."

"You just said-"

"I was messing with you, obviously," he said scathingly. "Do you really think I would tell you if I murdered someone? And would you really have a problem if I dispatched some worthless scum who threatened the life of Harry Precious Potter?"

Minerva didn't answer. She didn't know what to think, or feel, or believe anymore. Severus sneered at her and turned to go, levitating the empty potions box behind him as he stalked out of her dressing room.

"Go back to bed, Minerva!" he snarled over his shoulder. "And stay away from my quarters!"

Minerva had serious misgivings about what her insufferable colleague might be up to down in the dungeons, but after some internal deliberation she decided to stay out of it. If Severus were just doing something stupid, she would not hesitate to floo over there and scold him until he went deaf, but it sounded like there was a truly critical situation going on, and hard as it was for Minerva to ignore critical situations she understood that her involvement could only complicate things more.

Ever since that day two weeks ago when Dumbledore had found her arguing about Harry in Severus' quarters, the Headmaster had been giving her odd, curious looks. He hadn't said anything yet, nor he had tried to breach her mind, but Minerva knew he had begun paying more attention to her interactions with Severus, so it was imperative not to give him any more reasons to suspect her —and he would definitely suspect something if he found her again in the Slytherin quarters, this time arguing over a possible murder at two in the morning.

Besides, if Severus was doing something criminal down there... well, perhaps Minerva didn't want to know. She would rather be an unwitting accomplice, in case she was required to testify under Veritaserum, to be able to say with technical honesty that she hadn't seen Severus do anything too bad. A little voice at the back of his head kept whispering that she should stop him before he killed someone, but she determinedly ignored it, trusting Severus to only do something so drastic if Harry's survival or his own was on the line —in which case perhaps the right thing to do was to look the other way and let the man do what he must.

Truth be told, it wasn't really the immorality of a possibly ongoing murder that kept her awake that night, but the possibility that Severus might be caught committing some new crime. Particularly, that he might be caught chopping Moody's body into pieces (that was Minerva's best guess of who might have broken into Severus quarters). Because she feared Dumbledore would not let that slide and would not vouch for him again if Fudge insisted on sending the former Death Eater straight to Azkaban. And even if Severus was guilty, Minerva could not bear the thought of him wasting away in that godforsaken place. Haunted by his worst memories while Harry fended for himself in the maze. Perhaps killed by his Vow for being unable to fulfill the clauses in captivity. Likely coming back as a ghost to watch helplessly over Lily's son...

Falling asleep again after Severus' visit wasn't easy. Minerva kept replaying every word he had said in her mind, wondering how anyone could have broken into his quarters, thinking and worrying about the potions currently hidden in her chiffonier. She was worried about Severus, anxious about Harry, conflicted about Dumbledore. She honestly didn't care about Moody, and that made her feel guilty, because she knew the Auror had sacrificed a lot for the Wizarding World and yet Minerva didn't feel very inclined to save him from Severus. She wouldn't shed any tears either if the intruder turned out to be Rita Skeeter —although she couldn't imagine that woman having the nerve to threaten Severus Snape in person—, and she certainly wouldn't mind if whoever had confunded Harry was 'dispatched' tonight.

Falling asleep with her anxious mind spinning like a top was impossible, so in the end Minerva opted for changing into her Animagus form and settling in her favourite armchair by the fire, hoping Deirdre would join her. She did, eventually, happy for the opportunity to cuddle properly, and together they purred themselves to sleep.

Light was already filtering through the windows of her sitting room when she was startled awake again, this time by the whooshing sound of the Floo activating nearby. Further alerted by Deirdre's sudden tension and warning hiss, Minerva blinked her eyes open and looked up to see Severus' enormous figure looming over her.

It wasn't the unnerving proximity of a huge two-legged animal what impelled her to transform back to her human self, though, but the smell. Severus positively reeked, a multitude of chemical and body odours wafting out of him in a potent combination that sent Deirdre running from the room and that overwhelmed her highly sensitive feline nose as well.

Alcohol, male sweat, ammonia, smoke, something sweet and metallic... Before she could identify half the scents assaulting her senses, Minerva shifted back to her normal body, landing on her own two feet and immediately taking several steps back to put some distance from the source of the olfactory menace.

"Merlin, Severus, you stink!" she exclaimed wrinkling her nose. "You smell like an unwashed animal who got stuck in a liquor store!"

"You're one to speak of animals," he sneered. "Has no one ever told you it's rude to sniff your guests upon arrival, Minerva? How would you like it if I nuzzled your cunt and told you it smells like fish every time you floo by?"

"No need to be so crass, Severus."

"Although perhaps you would relish a good sniffing between your legs," he mocked her, "some nose-rubbing to clear away the rot and cobwebs. You must be desperate for any kind of friction down there."

"Not desperate enough to let your nose anywhere near my person," said Minerva with disgust. "You're too drunk for decent company, Severus, go back to your chambers and take a cold shower!"

"Is that why you patrol the hallways as a cat? Hoping some clueless tom will show interest? You must know that cats are done in less than ten seconds, but I suppose a quick fuck is better than nothing, and I'm sure your cunt could use the moisture-"

"Now you're just being gross, Severus!"

"I doubt even Granger's ugly Kneazle would have you, though, if you smell like stale onions as I expect you do. You might have better luck with Deirdre. You two looked very cozy together just now, so I assume she can stand your smell, and you can use food to condition her, train her to lick you just right-"

"Christ, I can't believe what I'm hearing! I should wash your mouth with soap!"

"You started it," said Severus defensively. "If you don't want people to mouth off about your neglected cunt perhaps you shouldn't call them unwashed animals!"

Minerva had a suitable retort in the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. She had never felt so disgusted and offended by anything that came out of Severus' mouth, but she knew it was just him being defensive, lashing out because she had offended him first —or more likely embarrass him, judging by the wild overreaction. She also knew that when Severus got like this the only way to stop the verbal onslaught was to cease engaging, to let him think he had won the argument and give him time to cool off before attempting a change of subject. He would probably not even remember all the vulgarities he had just spouted, and it really wasn't worth continuing this appalling argument just to defend her point that he smelled bad.

Severus did smell, though, and now that she was fully awake Minerva noticed that he looked even worse. He had seemed dishevelled during his last visit, but that had been nothing compared to the unkempt mess he was now. The dusty robes from before had been replaced by a ragged shirt and old sweatpants, both crumpled and dirty, his boots were unlaced as if he had put them on in a rush, and his hair was an awful tangle of truly greasy hair.

It wasn't Severus' state of disarray what triggered Minerva's concern, though, but his definitely unhealthy appearance. There were deep, dark circles framing his bloodshot eyes, his normally sallow skin looked sickly yellow and ghastly pale at the same time, and his haggard face was marred by weary lines of fatigue that made him look much older than he was. He even looked as though he had lost weight since the last time she had seen him, only a few hours ago, although that should be impossible in such a short lapse of time.

Minerva was suddenly reminded of the post-war Severus Snape. The young Potions Master had always been impeccably dressed, back then, and he had been depressed rather than angry, but he had also neglected his personal care after You-Know-Who's downfall (or perhaps after Lily's death), and both his physical and mental health had deteriorated so much in the following years that Dumbledore had had to force him on medical leave several times. Some cryptic comments from Poppy lately had made Minerva suspect that those medical leaves had actually been periods of drug rehabilitation, and seeing his hands shake now, knowing how much Severus had been drinking lately, she wondered if the man had reached that point again. Perhaps she should talk to Poppy about it? Stage an intervention before he did something foolish like getting smashed in class and making a pass at a student? Or worse, getting smashed after class and making a pass at a student in the privacy of his office...

Severus had been twenty-one when he had begun teaching at Hogwarts and handling responsibilities as Head of House. A twenty-one-year-old Slytherin suspected of Death Eater activity who immediately had half the girls in the school crushing on him —he might have never been classically handsome, but he had been young, confident and mysterious, all teenager girls needed to fall for a teacher. Severus had been barely more than a teenager himself, so of course Minerva had worried at first, despite Dumbledore's reassurances, that he might abuse his position and engage his female students inappropriately. Nothing had ever happened, as far as she knew, and it had been years since she had worried about that, but she couldn't help worrying again now.

Because she had never seen Severus so intoxicated, so out of line, and she hadn't been so aware of him as a man with sexual urges and filthy thoughts since she had caught him deflowering a Hufflepuff girl in his seventh year. And unfortunately she knew there were still more than a few students with silly crushes who would encourage his misbehaviour rather than report it. Normally Severus ignored them, or actively put them off when they were too obvious or forward, but he might slip up if he stumbled with one of those girls when he was this drunk.

Even if he didn't cross that line, he might blurt out inappropriate insults, or compare his female students to prostitutes, or tell his Slytherins about Minerva's French lingerie. Or he might harm some student, hex anyone who annoyed him instead of taking points, or doze off and let some cauldron explode...

Disturbed by all those mental scenarios, Minerva opened her mouth to tell Severus to take the day off —he was in no fit state to teach, and she didn't trust him around any students right now—, but she got distracted by the sight of something red staining his dirty shirt.

"Is that blood?" she asked in concern, forgetting all her other worries as she fluttered to fuss over her colleague. There were definitely red stains on his shirt, as if blood from some stomach wound had soaked through the fabric, and at closer distance she saw something red smearing the side of his neck too, and tiny dark spots spattered across his jaw that also looked like blood. "What happened? Are you hurt? Let me see-"

"Get off!" growled Severus, swatting away her hand when she tried to pull up his shirt. "I'm not stripping naked for you again, Minerva. At most I might be willing to pull out my cock, if you're that desperate-"

"Oh, shut up! I'm trying to see if you're injured, there's blood in your shirt-"

"It's not my blood," said Severus irritably, stepping away from her. "And before you break into hysterics, no, I didn't kill anyone. Turns out werewolves can live without blood, they don't even shut up when they should be dead."

"Werewolf?" gasped Minerva, the word sending a chill down her spine. Her first immediate fear was that Severus might have been bitten, but then she remembered what he had said about the intruder, some person who had broken into his quarters hurling Blasting Curses and threats all around. Transformed werewolves couldn't do that, so the moon must not be full, and besides Severus had just said the blood wasn't his, that it belonged to the werewolf, and he had said earlier that Dumbledore might get involved...

"Oh, God, it was Remus, wasn't it?" she whispered in horrified realization. "He came into your quarters? What did you do to him, Severus? If he's bleeding out down there-"

"Lupin is fine," said Severus with annoyance, waving his hand dismissively. "He's probably with Dumbledore now, telling him some story about how he tripped and fell down three flights of stairs on his way to his office."

"Tripped? He is injured, then? And Dumbledore knows? What-?"

"Never mind that," he cut her off. "I didn't come here to discuss the wolf. I need a favour-"

"A favour?" asked Minerva incredulously. "You can't be serious! You wake me up for the second time tonight-"

"It's already morning-"

"You disturbed my rest twice tonight," she repeated sharply, "once to stick your fingers in my underwear, the other to spout obscenities at me. You showed up here drunk and covered in someone else's blood, barged into my bedchamber without even knocking, mocked me and insulted me in the most offensive ways, and you have the audacity to ask for a favour?"

"Feel free to consider it an order, if it makes it easier for you to comply," drawled Severus. "We both know you'll end up doing whatever I say, Minerva, so why don't you spare us both the headache and just take note of my instructions?"

"You presume too much, Severus. And you're quite mistaken if you think I'll do whatever you say without even questioning it. Certainly not without an explanation. What did you do to Remus?"

"That's none of your business."

"It is if you want my help," she said crossing her arms. "And if you want to keep your job. I am still your superior, in case you have forgotten, I have the authority to suspend you if you misbehave. Now explain-"

"For fuck's sake, Minerva, I don't have time nor patience for this! Lupin was a threat to Potter. I handled the threat —without killing him, which should earn me endless credit. Now the wolf is under control and following my orders instead of randomly mucking things up like the brainless Gryffindor that he is. The boy still has to be dealt with, though, and fast, before he can tell anyone else. Dumbledore-"

"Hold on," interrupted Minerva. "You're rambling like a teenager, Severus. Slow down and explain exactly what happened. What is that nonsense about Remus being a threat to Harry? What was he even doing here at Hogwarts?"

Severus glared at her, plainly not appreciating being compared to a rambling teenager, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and reluctantly began explaining the situation from the start.

Apparently Remus had come to Hogwarts to meet with Dumbledore; he had stumbled with Harry out in the grounds and had had a conversation with the boy where he had said and learned more than he should; he had gone to see Severus afterwards, seemingly to exchange information on werewolves and Death Eaters, and had ended up threatening to tell Dumbledore about the Dreamless Sleep and the constructive insults; then he had turned violent, blasted his way into Severus' private quarters, wrecked Severus' study searching for the Felix Felicis, and threatened to destroy the potion or take it to Dumbledore before eventually surrendering.

There was clearly more to the story. Even if Remus had 'gone wild', like Severus said, Minerva couldn't believe the man would act in such a way, attacking Severus and threatening Harry's chances of survival, if he had known what he was doing and if there had been a less violent way to resolve the conflict. She was more inclined to believe that Remus' actions tonight had been driven by either ignorance or fear, and that Severus was to blame for any violent turn the situation might have taken. She also had serious questions about how Severus had ended up splattered in werewolf's blood, and feared Remus might have spent the last four hours being tortured into compliance, but Severus refused to elaborate on his suspiciously vague answers, and Minerva knew when it was pointless to continue interrogating a Slytherin so she didn't insist much on details.

The important thing was that Remus was still alive, and that he had agreed to cooperate with Severus. And at least now Minerva understood the situation. She understood what had driven Severus to this drunken state, why he was so angry and strung up.

"I understand why you're upset," she said carefully when he finished explaining, "but this is hardly unexpected, Severus, and it's not Remus' fault. We always knew that Harry might grow suspicious, and that you would have to tell him about the Vow eventually-"

Severus had been rubbing his face, clawing at his temples and forehead as if he had a migraine, but his head jerked up at that, his eyes narrowing.

"No one is telling Potter about the Vow," he hissed.

"Surely you see that you have to tell him-"

"I see no such thing. The boy doesn't need to know about that, not now, ideally not ever."

"Severus..."

"No!" he bellowed, wincing at the sound of his own raised voice but continuing yelling nonetheless. "Potter can't know! I don't want him to know! I don't want him to know anything!"

"Harry already knows you have been giving him potions and advice," said Minerva patiently. "He must wonder who sent him the Christmas presents, and he might wonder about Dobby too, and about the First Task. If he realizes how much you have been helping him, he'll want to know how, and you know Harry, he won't rest until he has unravelled the mystery. You have to explain about the Vow-"

"No!"

"You have to, Severus, how else are you going to convince him to keep quiet?"

"I'm not going to do anything!" he snarled, pointing a finger at her. "That's what I need you to do, Minerva. You'll meet with the boy and tell him to keep his mouth shut!"

"Me? Oh, no, this is your problem to handle, Severus. You chose to obliviate Harry, now you deal with the consequences of his ignorance!"

"You know I'm being watched, Minerva, possibly tracked, I can't meet with the brat outside of class!"

"You did it two weeks ago, to give him Dreamless Sleep," she reminded him.

"You didn't leave me much of a choice then, did you?" he growled. "It's a huge risk for me to sneak into Gryffindor tower, Minerva, you know this. Even holding Potter back after class is risky, with so many eyes on us, but no one will suspect you, especially if you use your private tutoring as an excuse to talk to him."

"And how am I supposed to do that? It is you who swore an Unbreakable Vow, Severus, not me, the Goblet won't allow me to open my mouth if I try to say something helpful to Harry, I won't even be able to meet with him for private tutoring if that's what I'm up to!"

"I'm not asking you to tell the boy how to orient himself inside a maze, Minerva, just to pass along some warnings as a favour to me. You have done this before, the night of the Vow, and the Goblet didn't give you much trouble-"

"Not much trouble? It took me nearly an hour to reach Gryffindor tower that night!"

"But you got there eventually, and you were able to tell Potter to come with you, and then you were able to explain about my plan to help him, even to officiate as Bonder. Dumbledore and Lupin also managed to tell the brat things about me, and the whole school was able to call Potter a cheater to his face, so you shouldn't have any problem doing this."

Minerva hesitated, struggling to find another argument but coming out blank. She still thought Severus would have less limitations talking to the boy, but it was true that he couldn't risk too much contact with Harry Potter, and she supposed it was possible the Goblet would allow her to discuss Severus-related subjects with Harry.

"Very well," she said at last. "But you must know that if I do this, I will tell Harry about the Vow."

"You will not," said Severus adamantly. "That is dangerous information to go spreading around, and Potter doesn't need to know."

"Yes, he does," argued Minerva. "He needs to understand, to know what you've done so far and what he can or cannot expect from you in the way of help."

"He doesn't need to know about the Vow to understand what I'm doing, and it is better if he doesn't expect anything. You will not tell him, Minerva-"

"That night was important for him too, Severus, and the Vow binds him just as much as it binds you. He deserves the full truth. And he already suspects enough to compromise you, so unless you plan to obliviate him again you can no longer argue that it's safer to keep him in the dark."

"Are Gryffindors completely incapable of recognizing a potentially dangerous situation? Potter could kill me with his demands, Minerva! He would have me at his beck and call, if he knew about the Vow, asking for new brooms and bodily sacrifices every other day!"

"Now you're being ridiculously paranoid, Severus."

"I don't care what you think! I said you will not tell him about the Vow, and my decision is final!"

"Unfortunately for you, your decision is not the only one that counts here," said Minerva sternly. "I'm involved in this whole mess too, Severus, and I have more right than you do to decide what is best for a student under my care. It is time for Harry to know-"

"I said no!" snarled Severus, advancing on her with a furious expression on his blood-spattered face. "You will not mention the Vow, Minerva! I swear, if you tell the boy I-"

"You what? What will you do?" she challenged him, rising her chin defiantly. "Will you do to me whatever you did to Remus? Will you 'handle' me too?"

"Perhaps I should, if you're going to defy me at every turn!"

"Well, I'm not going to bend to your will every time you make a decision I don't agree with, so go ahead! 'Get me under control', like you did with Remus, I dare you to try!"

Severus was glaring darkly at her, clenching his fists at his sides and looking very much as if he wanted to strike her, but he didn't actually do anything.

"That's what I thought," said Minerva contemptuously. "You're full of threats, but you wouldn't hurt me any more than you would hurt Harry, and yet you won't admit that you care about either of us!"

"I don't care," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I simply have survival instincts. My Vow would kill me if I hurt the brat, and you would turn me into a slug if I raised a hand against you, that's the only reason why you're both safe from me."

"It's not, and you know it. The truth is that you're a coward-"

"Careful, Minerva," said Severus warningly, his already dark countenance darkening several more shades. He still hadn't drawn his wand, but Minerva knew he didn't need a wand to channel magic, nor he needed magic to be a threat. Physically stronger and aggressive as he was, not to mention drunk, Severus could probably kill her with his bare hands if he wanted, and it was that male form of intimidation he was using on her now, both his posture and his smell setting off instinctive alarms at the back of her brain that urged her to either run or stay very still.

On a conscious level, though, Minerva wasn't afraid. She could draw just as fast as Severus could, if it came to wands, was a match for him in magical skill if not in raw power, and if things got physical she could always transform and scratch the hell out of him. Most men were completely helpless against a cat.

So she took a deep breath and stated clearly:

"You are a coward, Severus Snape."

"Do NOT call me-"

"Coward!" she yelled again. "You might be able to stand still while a dragon burns you and spikes you repeatedly, and you might be brave enough to work as a spy and lie to You-Know-Who to his face, but you're a coward at heart if you keep even the people you care about at arm's length. You're too afraid to let anyone get close to you, that's the real reason why you obliviated Harry, and why you're now dumping the problem on my lap instead of dealing with the boy yourself. You're afraid Harry will smile at you again, if he realizes how much you care, and you can't handle that, because he's so much like L-"

"Enough! Do not say another word, Minerva!"

"Harry's a lot like Lily," she went on undeterred. "I think you know that, on some level, but you're afraid to acknowledge it, because then it'll hurt more if he rejects you. But it's you who rejects him, Severus-"

"I said enough!"

"You kept Lily at arm's length too, I remember, and how did that work out for you? You pushed her away, completely ignored her after your fifth year, let her think you hated her-"

"ENOUGH!"

Severus' roar was accompanied by a violent pulse of magic that caused all the windows in the sitting room to suddenly explode. Crystal shards rained down on them when the chandelier over their heads also exploded into a million tiny pieces, although not a single debris made actual contact with Minerva's head —it seemed Severus' magic had shielded her from his angry outburst, which was slightly reassuring. Severus seemed to notice this, and scowled at Minerva as if hating her for having immunity against him, for being right about him not wanting to hurt her.

"Damn you, Minerva!" he swore. "You're worse than Lupin! Fucking Gryffindors! Always meddling in other people's lives, thinking you know best when you don't actually know shit, talking and talking and talking. You. Just. Don't. Shut. Up. Lily was the same, always nagging me about my attitude, telling me how screwed up I was, frowning at the sort of magic I liked to practice, assuming I was to blame for any incidents I got involved in. I'm sick of it! And I'm done! I'm done listening to a bunch of self-righteous busybodies who only want to use me! I'm done!"

"You can't be done with something you haven't actually done, Severus!" yelled back Minerva. "And you have never really listened to anyone other than yourself! If you had, you wouldn't have a Dark Mark on your arm and a deadly Unbreakable Vow hanging over your head. I advised you not to take the Vow, even Harry tried to talk you out of it, but you didn't listen, and I'm glad that you didn't, because Harry wouldn't be alive if you hadn't helped him, but you can't blame the boy for a decision you insisted on making! And you can't blame Lily either for wanting to keep you away from You-Know-Who, for trying to save you from this ever-creeping darkness that's been eating away your soul since you were a teenager. I know she begged you to give up the Dark Arts, but you didn't listen to her either, instead you scorned her and ran to join a group of blood-purists who wanted her dead. She cried for you, you know? All the time after you broke up. She missed you-"

"She dumped me!" snarled Severus, pointing an angry finger at her. "Here's proof that you don't know shit, Minerva. Lily didn't shed a single tear for me. You're making it sound like I broke her heart, accusing me of pushing her away and ignoring her, when it was the other way around. She scorned me, then ran to befriend the arseholes who wanted me dead, so don't expect me to believe she missed anything but my help in Potions. Lily didn't give a fuck about me!"

"For someone so intelligent and observant, you really are a blind fool, Severus! It's beyond obvious that Lily cared about you. She was a moping mess all through her sixth year, Horace was really cross with you because of that, and even after she graduated, when she was with James, she still worried about you constantly. The number of times I found her in tears after an Order meeting, overwrought by the fear that someone might kill you, or that you might end up in Azkaban... James was so jealous, he got furious whenever she mentioned you, and I know he hated Lily's cat because she had named it after you. They had a huge argument when you started working at Hogwarts, she was convinced it was proof that you hadn't joined You-Know-Who after all, and I think James was afraid of what that would mean for him, even though Harry was already in the picture. I thought at the time his paranoia was unfounded, because it seemed obvious you had gotten over your crush years ago, but knowing that you still loved her-"

"Don't! Stop talking, Minerva! Lily's cat was named after a potion ingredient, not me. You have obviously stretched and reframed your memories of Lily to fit some alternative love story you've dreamed up since I told you how I felt about her. It's all bullshit, and I don't want to hear it!"

"I'm not making anything up! I'm telling you what I really think, what I observed and heard during my time as Lily's Head of House and fellow member of the Order. Plenty other people saw her cry over you, and many of her arguments with James were public affairs, so you can ask anyone else who knew her back then and they'll all tell you she cared about you!"

"She did not! If Lily had cared even the slightest bit, she wouldn't have married Potter, she wouldn't have given that jerk so much as the time of day. Not only she was indifferent and hypocritical, she was disloyal, insensitive, maybe even purposefully hurtful. And she would have never given up the Potter wealth and status to be with a penniless felon like me. I won't let you twist the facts around to make her sound like some tragic Gryffindor heroin driven by noble feelings, Minerva. Lily was shallow, vain, heartless-"

"Jesus, Severus! I'm starting to wonder if you knew Lily at all, if that's what you think of her. Did you ever truly love her, or was she just a pretty face to you?"

"It's none of your business what Lily was to me!" he snarled. "It's none of your business how I feel or what I think of her! I knew Lily better than anyone, and I have all the right in the world to hate her-"

"But you don't hate her, do you? And you don't really believe what you've said about her. No man spends fifteen years grieving someone else's wife if she wasn't worth the grief, Severus. And no man takes the risks you took, nor makes the sacrifices you've made, for a woman he hates. You loved her, but you were too coward and stubborn to fight for her, so you lost her. And you're going to lose the chance to discover how much of Lily still lives in Harry, to have a fulfilling relationship with her son too, if you don't stop being a coward and face the boy!"

Minerva had expected another angry retort, more shouting and ranting and snarling, so she was startled when instead Severus swirled around and punched the nearest wall. Some magic must have been channelled in his fist, because the stone wall cracked and Minerva felt the blow reverberate under her feet, as if the magical foundations of her living quarters had been shaken.

Sometimes it was frightening how powerful Severus was. Minerva still didn't feel personally afraid, but she could recognize the danger, and her body was definitely in fear mode, her heart racing inside her chest as she watched the angry wizard grab a lamp from a side table and smash it against the mantelpiece, then reduce the table to splinters too. Godric let out an indignant exclamation in Old English, and a moment later had to flatten himself against his frame when he became the Slytherin's next target. Severus punched a hole through the canvas and hit the stone behind it, opening another crack on the wall and seeming to break his hand too juding by a string of French insults he let out. Godric said something that sounded very much like 'serves him right', and Minerva was surprized to hear Severus reply in Old English before smashing her writing-set against the Founder's portrait too.

More insults flew around as Severus continued destroying her sitting room, most of them unintelligible although she could identify the language in most cases. Godric ended up taking refuge in another painting, but he continued shouting admonishments and getting flustered every time Severus sneered something offensive in response. Minerva couldn't understand exactly what they were saying (she had never seen the need of learning Old English when she could communicate with Godric in Latin), but she got the gist of it so she was glad to be excluded. And while she had more reason than Godric to admonish Severus for his behaviour, she didn't say anything nor tried to stop him from destroying her possessions. Men sometimes needed to break things, she knew, and as long as there wasn't Dark Magic involved in the breaking process everything could be easily fixed afterwards, so she figured it was best to stand aside and let the man burn it all off. All his rage and frustration, his pain and regret, all his self-loathing...

And it burn off, eventually, or perhaps Severus simply ran out of energy to express his turbulent emotions, because when he finally slumped against an armchair, breathing heavily and trembling visibly head to foot, all the fight seemed to have gone out of him. He looked so exhausted, so completely drained and weary of life, so fragile and vulnerable... Minerva felt a sudden urge to comfort him, to gather the broken man in her arms and hold him like she suspected no one had held him in a very long time —if ever—, and moved forward without thinking. She didn't care that Severus smelled like a filthy animal, as she cautiously approached, because it was clearly a wounded animal, deserving of compassion and care, hurting and bleeding in so many different ways...

"Don't touch me!" snarled the man when she made to touch his shoulder, jerking away and glaring hatefully at her. "I don't want your fucking pity, Minerva, get the fuck away from me!"

Dealing with Severus these days was a real trial to the heart as well as to the nerves. He could make Minerva's emotions swing from one end of the spectre to the exact opposite in a matter of seconds, with just a few words or saying nothing at all, earning her pity with one agonized look just to rouse her anger the next time he opened his mouth, her heart beating for him one moment and needing to protect itself from him in the next beat.

It was emotionally exhausting, and a constant source of frustration and guilt for Minerva, because she could never fully reach him, and she had difficulty holding on to her compassion when he did his best to squash it. She was convinced that deep down Severus wanted to reach out, wanted to be held and comforted, to let someone in, but he kept shutting her out, raising walls and sharpening spikes all around him, being the most rude and hostile he could be to ensure no one wanted to risk his proximity.

Like now. One moment, Minerva had felt almost desperate to hug him, the next she was wishing he had never flooed into her quarters to ask for her help. One moment she had wanted to care for him, the next she was wishing she could wash her hands off Severus and escape the constant mistreatment that being around him entailed.

She was tired of being disrespected, insulted, yelled at. Tired of arguing and fighting. Tired of not having the luxury of being too tired for this, because someone had to keep Severus on check, and she was the only one close enough to attempt it.

"Damn you, Minerva!" Severus was yelling again. "We don't have time for this!"

"We do seem to have time for you to trash my sitting room," she said pointedly, for the first time feeling vexed at the destructive liberties Severus had taken with her possessions. "And you always seem to find time to insult me."

"You know what I mean!" he growled. "Dumbledore will get suspicious if you don't make an appearance for breakfast this morning of all mornings, you should be getting dressed instead of wasting time discussing my romantic failures!"

"I would be already dressed if you hadn't disturbed my morning routine," said Minerva defensively. "If I'm late for breakfast, it'll be your fault, for barging into my chambers and trying to order me around as if I were a pawn at your disposal!"

"You are the only person I can turn to for help when it comes to Potter, Minerva, forgive me for thinking I could count on you!"

Her growing irritation faltered, and once again Minerva found herself fighting the urge to hug the odious man.

"You can count on me, Severus," she said in a softer voice. "You know I will help you if you need help, not just for Harry but for you as well. But you can also count on me telling you when I think you're making a mistake. And I'm telling you, avoiding Harry is a mistake you will come to regret."

"What part of I'm being watched you don't understand, Minerva? Dumbledore, Moody, whoever killed Crouch, Karkaroff, my students, fucking Skeeter... they're all watching me! I cannot risk a face-to-face meeting with Harry Potter, not so close to the Third Task on a day the boy doesn't even have classes with me! Call it cowardice, if you want, I don't care what you think as long as you do what I ask. I need you to meet with Potter today and tell him to keep his mouth shut, without mentioning the Vow!"

Minerva sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. They were back to square one.

"I understand why you can't meet with the boy yourself, Severus," she conceded. "I will speak to Harry for you, if you insist and if the Goblet allows it, but I really think we should tell him-"

"No! Nothing about the Vow! I'm not making this decision only for my own peace of mind, Minerva, this is not a good time to spring the truth on the boy either! We cannot tell him about the Vow without admitting to have wiped his mind, and Potter will not take that well. He might not care nor expect anything better from me, but such betrayal from his Head of House will hit him hard."

Severus' words hit Minerva hard, like a sickening punch to the gut.

"I did not betray him," she protested, trying to sound indignant but hearing the guilt in her own voice. "It wasn't me who obliviated him, I didn't even agree-"

"You were there, you didn't stop me, and you did agree to keep him in the dark afterwards."

"There was no time to stop you, and I did not agree-"

"I'm just telling you how Potter will likely see it, Minerva. He's going to be pissed, when he finds out, mostly at me, but also disappointed that his Head of House failed to protect him and kept the truth from him for so long. Lupin said the boy was... upset tonight, emotionally unstable, throwing magical tantrums because he felt betrayed by the adults around him. It is not the time to tell him we fried his brain without his consent. He needs to reach the Third Task as calm and focused as possible, and we need him to trust us, now more than ever."

Minerva opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out so she closed it again. She had not considered that Harry might take the truth about the Vow and his obliviation badly, but of course he would, and the boy definitely didn't need another emotional shock right now.

It was also true that they needed Harry to trust them, enough to keep secrets from the Headmaster and to cooperate if Severus decided to attempt some form of help before or during the Third Task. Lack of trust at this point could get them all in serious trouble.

She sighed in defeat, then narrowed her eyes when she saw Severus was giving her his 'checkmate' look.

It was embarrassingly true that in the end she always ended up doing whatever he said. Insufferable man!