Barty sunk down onto the sofa, unclipping the prosthetic leg from the stump he had become increasingly familiar with. He sighed deeply as he felt the Polyjuice beginning to wear off, his face burning slightly. The transformation out of his disguise when he was in the sanctuary of his own rooms was always more uncomfortable than the transformation to Moody. With so much Polyjuice in his system, its wearing off was always more uncomfortable than normal. As his leg grew back, a sense of relief washed over him, glad to have the freedom to walk on two legs for the evening.
A knock on his door startled him, and Barty immediately panicked. He got up and grabbed the flask of Polyjuice potion, downing it as quickly as he could. The first thing to change was the loss of his leg; it always was, and he hobbled over to the sofa, strapping the leg right back on.
"Alastor?" came the shrill voice of the Head of Gryffindor. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Barty sighed, thankful his voice had changed its tone so quickly. Glancing in the mirror, he made sure he was fully transformed and then opened the door.
McGonagall was standing there, her hair braided to one side, a teapot in her hand. "Evening, Alastor."
"What can I do for you, Minerva?" he asked, trying not to show his irritation at her presence.
"We haven't had a chance to catch up since you arrived," she explained. "I thought I should stop by. It's been too long." She smiled, and Barty cursed internally, not knowing much about the friendship between the two. All he knew was that they were both Order members, and he was doing his best to avoid her. McGonagall had a clinical eye. It seemed as if she were always observing him, and the thought of being unmasked by the Gryffindor was, in Barty's opinion, the worst way he could be taken down.
"Come in," he said, standing aside to allow her entrance.
Minerva looked around his rooms but made no comment. "The tournament has had me so busy with Albus." She chuckled slightly, putting the teacup down on the coffee table. "You know the feeling."
"Aye; he's given my fair share of runs for the Order," Barty replied cautiously.
"Sit," Minerva commanded him, sitting herself down on his sofa. Barty settled in the armchair and accepted the cup of tea she handed him. "I thought you could use a change from your beverage of choice," she smirked. So, they were buying it. "I'm sorry our only interaction thus far was your incident with Malfoy earlier today."
"He's a bloody menace," Barty mumbled. Despite his work with the Dark Lord, Barty wasn't lying when he said he couldn't stand the Malfoy boy. He'd never liked Lucius; the man was loyal, yes, but his escape from time in Azkaban had never sat well with Barty. He was loyal to himself above all else. His son seemed just as pathetic.
Minerva chuckled. "I could never disagree with you on that." Minerva took a sip of her tea, and Barty felt slightly unnerved by her presence. It was easy to hold the crazy old man's identity when he was sitting at the staff table or teaching students who didn't know him, but an extended evening with an old friend was a challenge he hadn't expected. She looked at him carefully over her teacup, her eyes narrowing slightly. Silence fell over the two. Barty made a mental note to question Moody on why he had left out what seemed to be a long-standing friendship with the Deputy in his 'how-to's" for interacting with the Hogwarts staff.
"Is there another reason why you showed up at my door?" he asked nervously, putting his cup down on the table.
"You seem troubled," she commented.
"Troubled, huh?" Barty shifted slightly, adjusting his eye. "That's the nicest thing I've been called in years," he replied, relaxing into his role and taking another sip of his tea.
"Oh, believe me," McGonagall replied. "Mad Eye certainly suits you. But I've known you long enough to see past the paranoia, haven't I, Alastor?"
"I suppose you have."
"Tell me; what is it that Albus had to do to convince you to come out of retirement to live in a drab school castle?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Finally. Some familiar territory. "I would think you would be in on those conversations," he replied, pulling out the flask of Polyjuice and downing a sip.
McGonagall visibly locked her jaw, and Barty suspected some ill will between the Deputy and the Headmaster. That could certainly prove to be useful. "When it comes to the appointment of new staff, I am usually responsible for them once they're already here."
"All these years and Albus still does it all himself, huh?"
"You know how he is." McGonagall poured herself another cup of tea. "You never answered my question."
"I would think you had learned, by now, my loyalties are to Albus Dumbledore," he replied.
"I know all about your unwavering loyalty to Albus; it's something I've become quite familiar with," she muttered.
"Are you implying you're not?"
"Certainly not! I'd put my head on the line for Albus," McGonagall snorted. She pulled out her wand and Barty watched the pot begin to steam once more. "I just have begun to realize the true depth of his follower's loyalties."
Barty looked closely at her as she nonchalantly poured her tea, and he had the foreboding sense that he wasn't playing his part well enough. "You never did explain what you think is so troubling about me," he said, breaking the bought of silence between them.
She raised an eyebrow. "You've been very to yourself."
"Never been much of a socialite."
"Indeed, no," she replied. "But we've always kept a watchful eye on each other, aye?"
Merlin, this was difficult. "That we have, Min."
She looked satisfied at this. "I know he brought you back for the tournament."
He snorted. "I didn't think it was that hard to figure out."
"What I want to know is why."
Barty leaned forward in the chair, pouring himself and McGonagall another cup of tea. A few moments of silence passed between the two. "There's talk of the Dark Lord returning."
"I know," she replied, chewing her lip. "Severus-." She hesitated as if she were about to say something, but suddenly shut her mouth. Barty had heard rumors that her and Snape were involved romantically, and he wondered if they were true. What the Dark Lord would say if he knew just how much Snape had betrayed him: sleeping with the enemy. Without confirmation, it was a dangerous rumor to spread, but Barty packed it in the back of his head. "He and Albus have mentioned it."
"Surprised to hear you and Snape have such discussions. Former Death Eater…"
McGonagall's nostrils flared, and the slight red in her cheeks all but confirmed Barty's suspicions. He would have to work on Severus. "And now I remember why I didn't keep in touch when you retired," she snapped, slamming her cup on the table. "You've done nothing but question his loyalties since the first Order meeting he attended."
"Coward is what I say," Barty replied truthfully. The man had run right before the Dark Lord's downfall and hidden behind Albus's arse. The real followers had stayed. He held no respect for Severus, but for very different reasons than the person whose body he inhabited.
The Deputy glared at him, the teapot beginning to steam more. "I came here to extend an olive branch to a friend whom I happen to miss spending time with. If you intend to continue gossiping about our colleague, then you may do so alone."
She stood and grabbed her teapot, beginning out the door. Barty stood up and shouted her name. He put his hands up. "No more on it, huh, Min?"
Nodding, the blush began to disappear from her cheeks. "I should be going," she said quietly. "It's growing late, and I do have a stack of first year essays to mark."
Barty groaned thinking about the parchments that were lining his office. Of all ways to go undercover, being a professor included the most demeaning work. "A feeling I'm growing to understand."
McGonagall put her hand on the door but turned back around. "You're a good teacher, Alastor." He snorted. "I'm serious. Your…methods…are, I admit, too extreme. Showing Potter and Longbottom the unforgiveables? Well, we've had that conversation, haven't we?" She paused and continued to look him over. Her stare made him uneasy. "Truly, though. With what may be about to come, these children need to learn a bit more than they should have to know at their age." She smiled slightly. "Good night."
"Good night," he replied, grateful when the door shut behind her.