Cats, Dogs, and Vampires
The sensation of someone watching you is incredibly unnerving, especially at night. This unrelenting feeling brought Minvera McGonagall out of her deep sleep and nagged at her until she couldn't take it anymore. She turned and opened one eye. At the edge of her bed stood Severus, his dark eyes huge and fixed intensely on her.
She did not scream, but she did nearly jump out of her skin and her gasp sounded impossibly loud in the quiet room. Severus jumped too, even though he was used to his mother reacting the same way when he disturbed her sleep. Although her heart was still hammering in her chest, Minerva's mind had caught up to the moment. With a hand pressed to her chest, she exhaled slowly.
"You frightened me."
"Oh."
Severus, having recovered first, had placed his chin on her mattress and was watching her despite the darkness of the room.
"Is something wrong?" She could think of several reasons a child might find an adult in the middle of the night; when she was fetched by students, it was usually an unfortunate sick-or-injured situation. "All you alright?"
"Can I go home?" His voice was impossibly small in the dark room.
"Oh. No, no," The witch grabbed her wand off the nightstand and lit a lamp in the corner of the room, just enough to emit a soft glow without blinding the two of them. In the dim light, she could see that the boy's pale face was streaked with half-dried tears. If she had somehow missed that, the redness around his eyes and over his cheeks would have given it away just the same. McGonagall was instantly awake, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her. "Oh, you poor dear. Come here, it's alright."
Severus did not resist nor did he do anything to help himself get onto the bed; Minerva had to lift him up entirely. Her hands carded through his hair, pushing it behind his ears as it had fallen into his face. She had decades of experience with homesick students, but there had always been a level of professionalism in those interactions. And, of course, her usual suggestions of writing letters home or counting down to the next holiday would be useless here. And Severus was not crying. She supposed he must have been gathering the courage to come speak to her for quite some time. Severus did not seem keen on being touched; he had been fine being carried around on that first day, but any other movement towards him seemed to make him nervous. Severus Snape, as long as Minerva knew him, had been a standoffish man. Still, she would try her best. She shifted the boy to her side and ran her fingernails gently along his back. He did not pull away, but he did stare intently down at his hands as he asked again;
"Can I go home?"
"You're going to live here for a while, remember?" She murmured. They had mentioned this several times now, because this was not the first time Severus had forgotten. The memories of children were strange, she supposed.
Severus did remember, but he also kept expecting them to change their minds. And he missed his home terribly. He missed Ma and he missed Da. He worried that Ma changed her mind, and that she wanted him to come back. But they didn't have a telephone, and if she wanted to write she would have to buy stamps and walk all the way to the post office. And sometimes she couldn't even get out of bed. Maybe Da finally got a Good Job and he wasn't even angry anymore. Or maybe Da was yelling at her more because he was gone. Or maybe she wanted someone to cuddle with in the mornings. Or maybe she was still stuck at the table staring into space because nobody was there to crawl into her lap.
Hundreds of worries were filling his head and he didn't know how to say any of them. All he could manage was a soft, pitiful; "I want Mama."
With that quiet statement, Minerva could feel her heart break. There was a profound sadness to it, but he also sounded very scared. Although she couldn't be sure how he would react, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her chest. He instantly began to cry.
She could only recall one time that she had hugged Severus Snape, Potions Master. By his second year of teaching, Snape had come to understand that his attendance to every single Quidditch match, even when his former house was not involved, was not required by any sort or written contract but a social one. He begrudgingly attended the games and sat by Minerva simply because she, at that time, treated him politely but rarely engaged in conversation. But during the match she had been so overcome with excitement when her team had beat Ravenclaw's seeker to the snitch that she bead-hugged the nearest person. And that person had been Severus Snape.
He had gone as stiff as a board in her arms and looked at her with an unreadable mixture of emotions on his face. She had teased him for the reaction and he went bright red and scowled at her. From then on, their displays of affections were handshakes and the occasional hand on the shoulder.
The crying child did not resemble Severus Snape at all to her now.
"I know you miss your mum," she sighed, fingers tracing up and down his back. "That's alright. But she would want you to be happy here. You will love Hogwarts. It will feel like home to you."
So many students felt the same. And Snape… well, she supposed she did not pay very much attention to Severus as a student, since he was not in her house. But surely he had loved Hogwarts. He had decided to become a professor there, after all. That was the main reason anybody returned.
Severus had heard the same thing before, that he would love Hogwarts. His mother spoke of it so fondly, she even smiled when she told him stories about it. But, although the adults he found himself with were certainly magical, it did not feel quite as exciting as he had expected. There were no friends to make, and he couldn't even do magic. And, most importantly, he missed his mother.
"I don't," he sobbed. "I wanna go home."
Unable to come up with any retort, Minerva continued to run her fingers along his back. "I know."
She let him cry, and he had a seemingly endless supply of tears. Occasionally, he cried out for his Ma but for the most part he just trembled with frightened, homesick tears. Eventually he fell asleep tucked against her side with a fistful of her nightgown in his hands. And Minerva stayed up, watching his chest rise and fall and wondering how this plan could possibly be their best option.
After not sleeping well at all during the night, McGonagall had opted to catch a quick nap in her animagus form before the boy woke for the day. As a cat, she found it much easier to fall asleep and stay asleep. She had hoped Severus, whom she had left in her bed tucked lovingly under a duvet, would sleep for several more hours. But it was only eight in the morning when he wandered out of the room, scanning the personal quarters for signs of the witch. He did not find her, exactly.
Severus Snape had never seen a cat before. Not up close, at least. He had seen them prowling around at dusk when he walked home, but they never approached him. So when he walked into McGonagall's study and saw a cat laying on a pile of papers, he was equally delighted and cautious.
It did not strike him as odd that the cat was there, per say, as he did not really have a good grasp on what cats could or could not do. He knew that witches had cats, because his mother had told him about her beloved cat from her teenage years, a beautiful long-haired cat called Brutus.
This was clearly not Brutus, it was a short-haired tabby cat. But, just the same, it was most likely a witch's cat.
"Hello," he greeted politely. The cat blinked at him and Severus reached out to pet it along the back, the same way Dumbledore showed him how to pet Fawkes. "I'm Severus. What are you called?"
Minerva, being a cat, could not respond. She yawned and watched the boy curiously.
It was striking how relaxed he looked. Minerva had thought he was just a particularly anxious child, who transitioned into an angry teenager and finally a still-angry but otherwise very calculated and broody adult. But, just then, she realized he was an anxious child around adults. They were strangers to him, sure, but they had been nothing but kind and generous. But clearly, they had not won him over yet. Because Severus was acting in a completely relaxed way, carefree in the way only very small children who had not yet grasped their own mortality could be. He had hauled himself up onto the desk, bracing himself on his tummy while his legs dangled. His expression was bright and friendly, despite having cried all night.
"Do you live here?" Asked the boy, who thought that maybe the cat was shy and didn't want to talk to him at first. Again, he had a very loose grasp on what cats could do.
To humor him, the witch meowed. It did more than humor him; Severus beamed at her and clamored the rest of the way onto the desk, sending papers and quills spilling to the floor. He made no move to pick them up.
"Me too. Except, I live with Ma and Da another place."
That was one way to describe it, Minerva supposed.
"Are you magic?"
She was, but probably not in the way Severus expected. Minerva blinked at him. He took that as a no.
"That's sad. I'm magic. Ma says. But I can't do it yet."
Minerva rolled onto her back and stared at Severus upside-down. This, too, seemed to delight him. He leaned down and placed his head on the desk as well, matching her gaze.
"The lady's gone?" It did not bother Severus one but that the cat didn't respond to him. Minerva was only a little bit offended that he called her the lady instead of her name or auntie as she had requested. "Do you think she's nice?"
Perhaps it was cheating, but Minerva meowed in response; of course she was nice. Severus considered this response carefully.
"She's rich," he said after a moment. "Da says rich people are stuck up."
That was unfair. First of all, it was a rude thing to say about anyone. And secondly, Minerva wasn't even rich! Comfortable, perhaps, but nobody became wealthy on a professor's salary.
"You're pretty." The boy was hopping from one topic to the next, more interested in getting his thoughts out than having an actual conversation. He was not used to conversing in general. His mother spoke with him the most, but she was not exactly fostering conversation skills. Usually, she spoke at him.
Minerva meowed again. Severus took that as a thank you. He sat up, pushing more things off the desk idly. While Minerva, with her quasi-catlike mind, could relate to the urge, she didn't like the idea of the boy breaking things just because he was bored. With a stretch, the animagus got to her feet and leapt from the desk. As expected, Severus slid off the desk as well.
She trotted over to the small dining table set with a plate of tea, scones, and cream. The breakfast, much lighter than her usual fare, had been chosen when she woke simply because it wasn't messy and could be eaten without supervision; Severus clearly wasn't great with utensils and she wasn't quite sure when it would be appropriate to bring that up without embarrassing him. Raising one paw, she pointed at the assortment. Severus was not familiar with cats and did not find it strange that this happened at all.
When Severus did not immediately take her hint, she batted one scone until it fell off the platter, and batted it again until it landed upside-down on a plate.
"No," the boy mumbled, suddenly nervous. He took the scone and placed it back on the platter, then pressed his thumb into the resulting crumbs to clear them from the table.
Minerva batted the scone again. Severus returned it. This did not seem like a game, only because the boy looked concerned, not amused. But for the life of her, Minerva could not figure out why. She was almost ready to give up and simply transform back into her human self to ask what was going on in his head when thundering knock on the door made both of them jump. Severus turned to the door, wide eyed, and Minerva was preparing to deal with whatever was on the other side because she was so sure he would try to open it. But instead, he took slow, quiet steps backward towards the spare room-turned-bedroom. When the knocking sounded again, he all but sprinted to the room and closed the door behind him.
Well, though Minerva, that got rid of the problem of letting the kid see her transform. She padded over to the door and shifted back into her human form, adjusting her robes and glasses before she opened the door to reveal Hagrid, bending down slightly under the curved arch of the doorway.
"G'morning, Professor McGonagall."
The witch blinked at him for a moment, stupefied. She could not recall the man ever visiting her at her private quarters, especially not on a random morning.
"Good morning," she said, recovering quickly from the surprise, "to what do I owe this visit?"
"I thought I'd introduce your nephew to Fang, help him get over that fear of dogs."
McGonagall gaped at him. What fear of dogs? Granted, Severus was skittish around everything but the subject of dogs had never come up.
"I'd say everyone had a reason to be scared of Fluffy, though," he continued on, as if the witch wasn't staring at him, clearly confused. "With the three heads and all. But Fang here's a nice old pup, isn't that right?"
The wrinkly dog barked once, deep and loud.
"That's…a kind offer, Hagrid. But I'm not sure it's a good idea at this time. He's still…a bit unsure of himself."
"Aye," said Hagrid, trying and failing not to look disappointed. To cover, he quickly changed the subject; "You seen Quirrell yet today?"
McGonagall frowned.
"Quirinus Quirrell?" She asked, as if there was another man by that name, "He's on sabbatical, isn't he?"
"Came back this week. Saw him hauling some sacks up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom just this morning."
"Is he the new professor?" Minerva asked, absolutely furious to be finding out through Hagrid and not Dumbledore himself. Really, was she Deputy Headmistress or not?
"He must be. Didn't Dumbledore promise him the role once he got back?"
"Well—" Nobody thought he would be gone for one year, Minerva thought, unkindly. Rather than say it out loud, she said, "Yes, that's right. I'm surprised he didn't say hello to me."
"Probably didn't realize you were here," Hagrid smiled, "you usually spend at least a month or two in your cottage, don't ya?"
If this had been anyone else, McGonagall would have taken that as an implication that it was odd she, and her nephew, were at Hogwarts and not her small home in the country. But, this was Hagrid.
"I must make time to say hello to him, then."
"Now, about meeting Fang — Oh, hello again."
Severus had materialized behind Minerva's leg, wide-eyed and terrified of the half-giant but lured by the sound of a dog's bark. If Hagrid noticed, it did not stop him from continuing on. "I thought you'd like to meet my god, Fang. Say hello, Fang."
Fang did not bark, but he did sit.
"A doggy?" Asked Severus, clearly skeptical. He had not seen many dogs in his life, and it was always from afar but…well, this one was particularly big and wrinkly. It did not look anything like the strays that lived near his street.
Plus, a dog and a cat on the same day? What were the odds?
"Aye. Best dog around, I'd say. Go on, give him a pat."
Severus did not move. He regarded the animal like it was some wild beast and he, a small rabbit for hunting. Fang, too, did not move. When it was clear that the kid was too nervous, Hagrid cleared his throat.
"That's a nice toy you got there."
In his arms was Fawkes, of the stuffed persuasion, held in a grip that would have choked a flesh-and-blood creature. The boy's dark eyes glanced down at it, then back towards the dog.
"From Albus."
Hagrid took a moment to process that. Then, he laughed. "Oh, Albus Dumbledore! Never hear anyone call him that. It's always Professor Dumbledore around here."
"It's a special case," said Minerva, hiding a laugh. "They're in agreement, isn't that right?"
Severus did not answer the question at all. Instead, he mumbled into the toy; "This is Fawkes."
Because although Severus Snape was very clever, he was not very creative when it came to names.
"A great name for a phoenix!" Hagrid declared.
Fang was also interested in the phoenix, for nefarious reasons. With extreme gentleness for a creature of his size, he approached Severus and placed his huge head on the boy's arm as he attempted to take hold of the toy.
Severus laughed.
It was a squeaky, high-pitched sound, sort of breathy as if Severus wasn't used to making it. His entire arm was coated in slimy drool as Fang tried to very gently take the bird's head into his mouth. His teeth caught the beak and he tugged. Severus tugged back. Fang, very familiar with the game, pulled again and Severus nearly fell over.
"Look at that, he wants to play!"
"He wants to eat that toy." Minerva retorted.
"He won't eat it. Slobber on it, maybe."
"Then he should have one of his own."
"Aye," agreed Hagrid, although he made no move to try and stop Fang, who was slobbering all over the poor toy. "Maybe I'll get him one in Diagon Alley. I'm heading there after I pick up the Harry Potter."
Hagrid expected Severus to react to that. But, even if that name had meant anything to the boy, he was too busy losing a low-energy game of tug-of-war with a dog.
"Professor Dumbledore did mention that," the witch nodded. Hagrid was an odd choice, to be sure. "Does he not trust his aunt and uncle to purchase anything for him?" He had trusted the Muggles to raise him, although Minerva still had some thoughts about that.
"Guess not," Hagrid shrugged, "might be overwhelmed by it. You know Muggles, they're a bit weird."
Plenty of Muggle-born students managed just fine but, when it was Harry Potter…Minerva could not fault Dumbledore for wanting to ensure things happened smoothly. Again, this made the choice of Hagrid odd but not entirely bonkers. He was a very kind man.
Fang, having won the game of tug-of-war, barreled right into McGonagall's quarters. Although she did not mind Hagrid's pet, she certainly did not enjoy it inside the castle, much less her own personal quarters. She followed after him, and Hagrid behind her.
Catching sight of the spilled papers and quill stands, Hagrid ducked his head apologetically.
"Did Fang do that?"
Minerva opened her mouth, but the boy was faster.
"Yes," answered Severus, who did not seem phased about lying at all.
"Sorry 'bout that. He's got bad manners. He'll knock everything off a table if you let him. Only curious though, doesn't mean anything by it."
McGonagall did not respond. She fixed the child with an intense stare. Severus caught her eye and then looked away very quickly. Usually, he was comfortable holding eye contact; perhaps too comfortable, as Minerva had found his staring a bit unsettling. It was as though he was being intentional but overcompensating. Now, though, he was pointedly ignoring her.
That was better than being unrepentant, she supposed, but the fact that he had lied at all caught her off guard.
With a flick of her wand, something neither of her guests could do, Minerva set the items back on the table. Fang, excited to be in a new location and all the smells that accompanied it, lifted himself onto his hindquarters and started eating the tray of scones.
"Absolutely not!" A split second later, the plate was hovering above the table and Hagrid had picked up the hound; for most people, this would be a near impossible task but for Hagrid, his arms easily wrapped around his dog.
"Now Fang, you haven't been invited yet," he chastised, "one thing about dogs, you'll want to make sure there's no food they can reach if you don't want them getting into it."
"I didn't anticipate a dog being in my private quarters." If Hagrid understood that was a subtle dig, he did not show it. "Surely dogs don't eat blueberry scones."
"Sure they do. Just not chocolate ones."
"Why?" Asked Severus, unable to stop himself. He had forgotten that he was scared of the man.
"Makes 'em sick. Couldn't tell ya why. But here," from his seemingly bottomless pockets, Hagrid pulled out some dog biscuits. "Give these to Fang and he won't bother you for your breakfast."
Severus took the biscuits, although he wasn't quite sure what they were, and looked puzzled. Rather than ask about them, though, he said; "Breakfast?"
Hagrid let out a surprised laugh and gestured to the set table. "What else do you call that?"
Severus turned to Minerva, who nodded once. For the first time, it occurred to Severus that the food might be partially for him.
"Can I?" he asked, very quietly.
"Of course you can," Minerva sighed, having had this discussion with Severus for every single meal so far, "you don't have to ask."
Because it was polite, she invited Hagrid to sit with them as well. The half-giant tried his best to engage Severus in conversation, but the boy simply regarded him suspiciously while he shoveled food into his mouth like an animal. Hagrid did not comment on the boy's bad manners but that was because he had seen nothing wrong with them. He did eventually take the hint that the boy wasn't going to reply to any of his attempted conversation topics, and instead he turned the conversation towards Minerva. Fang, having realized his mistake as much as a dog could, settled on the floor under the table to simply wait for scraps.
"I best be off," Hagrid said once the plates were clear. To Severus, he said; "It was nice to meet ya again, formally."
Severus simply slid off his chair and stepped behind Minerva's legs, eyes dark eyes fixed on Hagrid as he moved. Still, he followed both adults to the door and cautiously waved goodbye as the half-giant and his dog left. Once he was gone. Minerva turned to the boy and opened her mouth, ready to chastise him about lying. But, before she could broach the subject there was the sound of stomping boots outside her quarters. Assuming Hagrid had forgotten something and returned, the witch opened the door. But, it wasn't Hagrid. Quirinus Quirrell looked as surprised to see McGonagall as she was to see him with his arms full of garlic. But the witch recovered first.
"Good afternoon, Quirinus. I see you're back from sabbatical."
"O-oh! Yes. Yes," the man stammered, clearly still caught off guard. "I just came to...well...I didn't realize you stayed on during the summer."
"Typically I do not. There have been some...recent developments." Luckily, at the sound of another man's voice, Severus had retreated to his new bedroom and Minerva did not have to explain herself any further.
Completely misinterpreting the statement, Quirrell nodded quickly. "Yes. Exciting times. What a school year this will be."
The witch gestured to his armfuls of produce. "And is there a reason you're carrying all of that?"
"Why, yes I—that is, it's to — you see, it's for the vampires."
"Vampires?"
"I-I ran into one, during my travels and I don't want any trouble. Garlic is effective I've read — that is, I know, since it worked before and—"
"Yes, of course," said Minerva kindly, to save him from stuttering through a full explanation. He had barely managed those two sentences with the way he stopped and started again at random times. "Do let me know if you need any help."
"Of course," he squeaked and did not run off, but walked very, very quickly. A few bulbs of garlic fell in his wake.
"What's vampires?" For the second time that day, Severus had silently materialized next to the witch without her noticing. This time, it was so unexpected that she jumped and put a hand to her heart.
"You move so quietly," she breathed. This was a skill Severus had perfected; he could easily move around his house without disturbing anyone. "As for vampires, they're something you don't need to worry about. I'm not sure why Quirinus, ah...Professor Quirrell is worried at all."
Severus considered this for a moment. "It's scary?"
"Some people think so."
"I'm not scared," Severus informed her, although he still had no idea what a vampire actually was.
"I'm sure you've very brave."
His pale face flushed and, unable to find another way for his happiness to come out, he bounced up and down on his toes.
"I am?" he asked, clearly excited. Minerva smiled.
"You are. But, you must work on being honest."
In a split second, the boy's entire demeanor shifted. He had still been giddy from being called brave, but Minerva could see the moment he interpreted her words as some kind of threat; his eyes went very wide and his face, already devoid of color, went sickly pale. Minerva stepped towards him, prepared to explain that she merely wanted to have a conversation, but Severus bolted. Unfortunately for Severus, there were not many places to go. He fled to his newly appointed bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
There were many things that Minerva McGonagall could tolerate, but slamming doors was not one of them. She followed right after him but, as she opened the door, the boy was nowhere to be found. But there were not very many places to hide. She checked the wardrobe, quite bare, first before realizing that it was much more likely that he had crawled under the bed. She was right. Severus, wide eyed, was staring at her from where he had wedged himself against the wall. With a sigh, the witch lowered herself onto her stomach so she could speak to him.
"It won't do to run away every time you're about to be scolded."
Severus made an odd sound, like a choked sort of sob. Minerva reconsidered her statement and realized it did sound like a vague threat.
"You aren't in trouble," she began again, "I only intended to speak with you about it."
"I'm sorry," said Severus, and he sounded more than miserable. He sounded small and frightened.
"You are forgiven."
Severus regarded her very, very cautiously. The atmosphere of the room, or at least the space under the bed, was strange. This was too dramatic of a reaction, as far as Minerva was concerned.
Finally, though, he asked; "What's that?"
The witch blinked at him. "What's what? Forgiven?" It had not occurred to her that the word itself would have been confusing. "It means I've accepted your apology."
Severus blinked owlishly. "What's that?"
Minerva couldn't help but laugh as she tried to think of a more simple way to explain herself. He clearly knew what I'm sorry meant, because he had used it correctly. But had he never received an actual response to it before?
"I understand that you're sorry, and I'm not cross with you."
She could feel his dark eyes on her, as if he was trying to decide if that was true or not. She didn't really want to wait around on the floor for him to make his decision.
"Now, come out from under there. I'm too old to be crawling around like this."Severus did not move. He watched her with dark, intense eyes as if daring her to make him. "Well I won't be doing it any longer," she huffed and got to her feet. She sat on the four-poster bed and waited for Severus to follow. She could hear him moving but he did not join her. The witch sighed. "I'm not cross with you, do you understand?" She was met with silence, but continued on. "If you make a mess, you should clean it up. You will not blame another person or leave it for someone else to clean."
"Why?" Severus had poked his head out from under the bed. He was laying on his back with his black hair spread out on the floorboards like a dark halo.
"Why?" She repeated incredulously, "because those are basic manners."
"I didn't know that." I didn't know was not usually an excuse that Severus could effectively use on his parents, but the woman did seem less cross at him than his father had ever been. She was looking down at him, smiling slightly despite herself.
"I suppose your mum probably cleans up after you, at your age."
"Ma doesn't clean," the boy furrowed his brow, as if he thought the statement was funny.
"That's quite modern," Minerva laughed, "so your dad does the cleaning?"
"No," Severus said, and his voice wavered in something that was almost a giggle. That was even funnier than the thought of his mother cleaning.
"Who cleans your house, then?" Asked Minerva with a laugh, her tone teasing. She knew it couldn't be a house elf, because Severus had been so taken aback by seeing one just days ago.
"Nobody."
"Nobody," she repeated, smiling. She supposed that Severus, having a witch for a mother, had never seen the woman clean when charms and spells could do the trick. "So it happens by magic?"
"No," Severus said quickly, his smiling disappearing in an instant. He slipped further under the bed, so only his eyes were visible to the woman. "No magic."
Minerva pursed her lips at the reaction.
"Does your dad know your mum is a witch? Or is it a secret?" Minerva asked. Her own mother had hid the fact from her father until Minerva herself was born, ashamed of her heritage and terrified of rejection. Minerva knew her dad didn't mind the magic, but the fact that it was hidden at all had changed something in the marriage. And, although she had grown up around magic all her life, there was something about having a muggle in the household that changed things.
"Mm-hm." The boy nodded, and because Minerva had asked two questions at once she couldn't be sure which he was responding to.
"Yes, it's a secret?"
"It's both." Severus, still half-hidden, had a very serious expression on his little face. "Da knows. But I'm not s'posed to say."
"You're not supposed to tell Muggles, that's right. It's confusing for them."
"Da gets mad. It's bad." The boy frowned at her, because Minerva's eyebrows furrowed in what was not quite anger. A nervous feeling settled in his stomach, as it occurred to him that maybe this was another thing about his home that he wasn't supposed to tell people about. Eileen had taken the risk of marrying a Muggle, and had received the outcome every witch or wizard dreaded; that their lover did not accept them fully. Before the witch could respond, Severus piped up again.
"When Ma comes, she can sleep in my bed."
"What?"
"It's okay," Severus explained, vaguely, "and this bed is more bigger."
For several very long, agonizing moments, Minerva didn't know what to say. She had no desire to upset the boy again, but she also had to tread carefully.
"Yes. Yes, that will be alright," she said finally,
"Da can have a different room," he added. "Or a house."
"Of course," Minerva said stiffly, "but, you know…it might be a long time before you see them again."
"Like a day?" Severus asked, staring at the ceiling now.
"Well…" McGonagall trailed off as she tried to narrow down her answer. She wished Dumbledore was there; he could come up with very convincing lies. "Parents aren't allowed to stay at Hogwarts. It's only for children and professors."
This was clearly not what Severus wanted to hear. He slid entirely back under the bed.
"Ma lived here before."
"When she was younger. If we let everyone stay here we…would run out of beds."
That reasoning was absolutely silly, and something Dumbledore might say. Severus frowned, but he understood.
"That's bad," he said after a moment.
"Exactly right," Minerva agreed, thankful that he had accepted the answer, albeit very practically.
Severus did not always say what he was thinking out loud, but he would say parts of it. He was quiet for another long moment, thinking about how nice the beds at Hogwarts were compared to Spinner's End, and how that meant they must have spent a lot of money on him. Sometimes, when he was given something, his father would hold that over him for a long time. If he complained about being hungry, Da would remind him that he had bought the kid candy days, or sometimes weeks, before. And he would accuse Severus of being ungrateful. Severus did not like being ungrateful.
"I like the bed." To Severus this made complete sense, but to Minerva it was a very unexpected statement. She laughed.
"You'll find it's more comfortable if you're on top of it."
Severus did not interpret this as an invitation. Minerva had another trick up her sleeve. She took out her wand and, although she was fully capable of casting a simple warming charm non-verbally, she said the charm out loud in a clear voice.
Severus scrambled out from under the bed to see what she had done. Unfortunately for him, the charm had no visible effect. He blinked at her, looking just a tad upset about being tricked. The witch patted the sheets.
"Come put your hand here."
Unable to hide his excitement, he clamored onto the bed and placed both hands where the witch's had been. The sheets were warm, but not uncomfortably hot. It was the kind of heat left by a human body, conjuring the distinct feeling of crawling into bed with someone. Delighted, he placed his hands on the pillows, which were not charmed, then back to the sheets.
He thought that would be a wonderful spell to show his mother, because it could be so cold in the house at times.
"I like it," he informed her, as if it needed to be said.
"I'm glad you do."
The room was already bigger and more impressive than the bedroom Severus had at his real house. The bed, for example, was very comfortable and it had several pillows. And those pillows were big and fluffy, not flat like cardboard. To say nothing of the multiple blankets!
"It's big," he said, unable to articulate himself. Although this was not intended as a dig at all, Minerva interpreted it differently. To her, the room did look rather bare, having been used mostly as storage for decades. Even with a bed and a wardrobe, it did not look much like a bedroom.
"We'll work on decorating it. I can change the color of your blankets now, if you'd like". They were a rather boring white. "What's your favorite color?"
Severus still had not figured out if he had a favorite color. He frowned at her in obvious concentration.
"Do you not have one?"
The fact that he had been asked this on two separate occasions and not had an answer made the boy nervous. If it was important, they would be cross with him for not answering. He pointed at her robes.
"That's pretty."
His mother loved when he said he thought she was pretty. Unfortunately, Minerva was wearing plaid which was several colors all together. Smiling, she pointed to one of the larger blocks of color, a deep green.
"This one here?"
"Yeah," said Severus, who had not meant that specific color. His tone gave that away.
"Did you mean this?" She pointed at yet another variation of green.
"Yeah," said Severus, which was another lie. Then, suddenly remembering that he was very much not supposed to do that, he added. "All of it."
"This is a pattern, not a color," Minerva said, because she simply could not allow herself not to correct him. "It's called plaid."
"Plaid," he repeated. "It's pretty."
"Thank you." She smiled and, as if suddenly realizing this was the perfect subject for toddler conversation she asked; "do you know what color this is?"
Severus looked as if he had never been asked that question in his life. Although it was a perfect ordinary thing to ask a child, this was not the kind of thing his mother or father wanted to talk to him about. They were not a chatty family, the Snapes.
For a brief moment, Minerva wondered if Severus had somehow learned to read but had not learned his colors. Hadn't he seemed uninterested when Dumbledore had mentioned wearing pink? But then, Severus said very cautiously;
"Green?"
"Very good," the witch responded as if that had been a very impressive task. Severus beamed at her.
"This is white," the boy added, pointing to the bed sheets and looking expectantly at the witch.
"Right again," she agreed.
"And that's brown."
With a smile, she resigned herself to a game of Severus Naming Colors.
