Whatever I've done

Whatever I've done

Part Four & Five

by

Logospilgrim

Rated R (some violence).

Disclaimer: I'm only playing with J.K. Rowling's wonderful toys. I promise I won't break them, or leave them out in the rain.

Join us again for another chapter of "Hogwarts General Hospital" ;-)

Then she frowned. Had that been a knock on the door? It was well past midnight.

Another barely audible knock, and Pomfrey came into view, night cap askew. She saw McGonagall holding Snape against her, and raised her eyebrows as if to say, is everything all right?

McGonagall jerked her head towards the door.

Pomfrey got the hint and opened it.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing there with Dumbledore, who looked like he'd just thrown an emerald green bathrobe over his star-strewn nightgown.

"Albus! What on earth is going on?" Pomfrey whispered.

"Harry has something very important for Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, indicating the small cauldron Harry was holding. Golden fumes were emanating from the sparkling potion it contained.

"It's... it's a cure," Hermione said. She glanced at McGonagall who was staring at them and looking not at all pleased. "For the professor's injuries."

Pomfrey's eyes met Dumbledore's; he nodded.

"Come in, then," she said.

McGonagall still had her arms protectively wrapped around Snape. He seemed to have gone back to sleep. "Albus, what is going on?" she murmured.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione have been working all night to solve the mystery of Severus's illness. I have no doubts that the potion they've brewed will counteract Voldemort's curse permanently."

"Actually, Harry's brewed the potion," Ron said.

"And he has to give it to Professor Snape for it to work," Hermione said.

"But Hermione's the one who found the recipe," Harry said.

McGonagall studied them carefully. "I am afraid to ask if you three have ventured in the Forbidden Section of the library again."

The Gryffindors swallowed in unison.

"It was for a good cause," Dumbledore said. "I am sure it won't be necessary to deduct any house points, Minerva."

"Albus, are you sure about this?" McGonagall said.

"It couldn't possibly hurt to try."

She sniffed. "I suppose we're running out of options."

She very gently lowered Snape upon the bed and supported his neck and shoulders so he would be able to drink the potion. "Well, go on, Mister Potter. Let's see if this will work," she said, her voice stiff.

They poured the potion in a glass and Harry brought it to Snape's lips.

"Professor... please drink this," he said, but the Potions Master didn't open his eyes.

"Severus," McGonagall said, "wake up, dear. We have some medicine for you and you need to drink it."

Snape mumbled and his eyelids fluttered, but he didn't seem quite awake.

"Please, drink this," Harry said, tipping the glass. "You have to drink it all, sir..."

A few gulps, and the glass was empty.

"There," McGonagall said, wiping the corner of Snape's mouth. "I hope that-"

Snape's eyes suddenly flew open, he took a deep breath and screamed.

Harry dropped the glass and it smashed against the floor; the color drained from Hermione's face.

"Severus!" McGonagall said.

Dumbledore had whipped out his wand but Snape had already blacked out. They heard a series of sharp snaps and pops.

"Look!" Pomfrey said.

His hands were twitching violently, and then his entire body, as bones and joints repaired themselves and became straight again.

"I think it... it's working," Hermione said, unable to stop herself from crying.

A moment later, and Snape was still; another few seconds, and everyone present started breathing again.

"Let me check if... if he's all right," Pomfrey said.

She took one of his hands and slowly undid the bandages, her own hands shaking.

"Careful-" McGonagall said, feeling as though her insides had liquefied.

Then they saw that his long fingers were as graceful as before, the skin only slightly reddened. His hands were completely restored, his wrists as slender as they remembered.

"It worked," Harry said.

McGonagall rose and hid her face against Dumbledore's chest.

Pomfrey lifted the blanket off his legs. "Let me see if-"

His knees and ankles were back to their normal size as well, just a bit red, with a few bruises here and there.

"It appears you were right as usual, Hermione," Dumbledore said.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It was Harry who -who cured him, s- sir."

Harry hugged her, joined by Ron.

"Well, children, you'd best go to bed now," Dumbledore said. "Tomorrow will be a holiday for everyone. And no studying for exams."

"Yes, sir!" Ron said.

"Sir, do you think Professor Snape will remember what happened just now?" Harry said.

"I don't think so, Mister Potter," McGonagall answered, getting herself back under control. "He was hardly awake. But of course we'll tell-"

"I'd rather he not know I had to give him the potion," Harry said. "Tell him that it was you, Professor McGonagall. I think it'd be better that way. For Professor Snape, I mean."

She thought about it for a moment. "You realize that there's a possibility he'll remember something, Mister Potter."

"But if you say it was you, then he'll think it was a dream or something," Harry said.

"Very well. I'll see what I can do," McGonagall said.

"What he needs most of all now is rest," Pomfrey said. "So do we, I daresay."

"He's... he'll be all right?" Hermione said.

Pomfrey felt his pulse and touched his face. "Good, good..." She ran his wand over him to make sure everything was in order. "Apart from a shock to the system, he's as good as new. He'll probably be sore when he wakes up, but since your potion worked, I'm positive I'll be able to give him something now."

"I'll stay with him," McGonagall said.

"And I'll be back first thing in the morning," Dumbledore said.

****

At around eight o'clock, McGonagall jumped off the bed and transfigured back to her normal state again. Snape was showing signs of waking up, and she sat by his side, scrutinizing his pale face for any hint of pain.

Pomfrey entered the room, looking more rested than she had in a while. "Did he wake at all during the night?" she asked McGonagall.

"No, but I think he's about to."

No sooner had she said so that he grunted and stirred. "Ugh..."

"Severus," McGonagall said. "Is something hurting you?"

"I'm... I'm sore as hell," he said thickly. He winced. "Ow!"

Pomfrey uncorked a vial. "Take this, Professor."

"But... potions don't work anymore," he said.

"We got that problem fixed last night. Don't you remember? Here, open up, Severus," Pomfrey said.

He gazed at the purple liquid with nostalgic longing and did not question her. To his surprise, he was almost immediately filled with an intoxicating sense of well-being; relief flowed through his body and the pain vanished.

"Oh. Oooh..."

McGonagall smiled as she watched the tension melt off his features. "Better, dear?"

"I haven't felt this wonderful since the Respitere Beatificus," he said, basking in the wave of comfort that had washed over him. "But why-" Then he tried moving his fingers and flinched a little.

"I wouldn't go doing that. Not just yet, they're bound to be sensitive for a couple of days," Pomfrey said.

He looked at her. "You say that like I'll be able to use them again soon." His gaze fell on McGonagall. "What's going on?"

Very gently, she took one of his hands from underneath the folded sheet. "We found the cure for the curses that ailed you."

She lifted his hand from his chest, and he hissed softly.

"I'm sorry, Severus," McGonagall said. "As Poppy said, they're going to be tender, but not for long. Look."

He stared down at it.

The memory of how his hands had been broken by the Dark Lord would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. Until yesterday, although concealed by bandages, they'd lain like gauze-covered hooks upon his breast, and the thought of seeing them exposed had made him tremble.

Yet, looking at them now, the idea of preparing potions again no longer seemed impossible.

"How..."

An image flashed across his mind, hazy and confused: a golden potion that had tasted like honey and marigolds, then pain almost like that he'd felt when Voldemort had cursed him over and over.

"We found the cure," Dumbledore said, entering the room and approaching the bed. "It reversed all of the effects of the Dark Lord's curses."

The Potions Master was dumbstruck. Then he said, in a slightly quavering voice, "I'm... I'm going to be... all right?"

"Yes, Severus. You'll be back in your potions lab before you know it," Dumbledore said.

"Well, I think a long rest over the summer would be a good idea," McGonagall said. "He deserves it, Albus."

"I agree completely, but perhaps Severus will be too impatient to wait much longer-"

"You're the Headmaster, put your foot down for once!"

Snape was unable to pay attention to McGonagall and Dumbledore's exchange; he was trying to convince himself that what the Headmaster had told him was true.

Cured.

Those terrible curses, erased.

He tried flexing his fingers again, and cried out.

"Severus?" McGonagall said, forgetting about her argument with Dumbledore. "You shouldn't move them, dear. Just a little more time, and you'll be as good as new."

"I'm afraid to believe you," Snape said. But he smiled.

She smiled back, then looked up at Pomfrey. "Poppy, perhaps his hands should be immobilized until they're entirely healed."

The mediwitch nodded.

"I never suspected you were so fond of mollycoddling people," Snape told McGonagall.

"You're not the only one who's full of surprises, Professor Snape," she said.

"Surprises? What are those?"

Pomfrey looked at Dumbledore and rolled her eyes.

"I'm looking forward to telling the students their Potions Master is well again," Dumbledore said.

"Albus, I'd really prefer you didn't make a big -fuss," Snape said.

"I'm afraid the Slytherins have already caught wind of this and are planning... how did they put it? 'The Bash of the Century,' if I understood correctly."

Snape groaned, but he was clearly torn between pleasure, dismay, and anxiety.

"Hold still, Professor," Pomfrey said, and began tightly wrapping his wrists and hands with bandages.

Every other second, he flinched; but she worked quickly, and soon his wrists were secured in braces.

"There," the mediwitch said. "How's that?"

"Better," Snape said, and exhaled. "Thank you."

Dumbledore neared the bed and patted Snape on the cheek. "It's so good to have you back, lad."

"I don't know how many more maudlin moments I can bear," Snape said lightly, even though his face went sour.

"Oh, you'll live, I'm sure," McGonagall said.

"You all just wait 'til I'm on my feet again."

Pomfrey crossed her arms and said, "You will not get out of that bed without my approval, Severus Snape."

"As if I've ever attempted such a daring exploit."

"At any rate, I'd like to see you try. You've been in bed for almost a month."

"Poppy, I assure you that I have no intention of disregarding your advice. I am sincerely grateful for all you've done for me."

"Well, I- of course, we've all been worried sick about you," the mediwitch said, placated by his uncharacteristic docility.

"A little more rest, and we'll see about you getting some exercise," McGonagall said.

"I've been meaning to ask... where did you find this cure? Was it you who found it, Minerva? Or was it you, Albus? I am most curious."

McGonagall hesitated, and cleared her throat. "It was in the Restricted section of the library."

"Ah, yes. My favorite section... naturally. But you haven't answered my second question."

"It was..." She glanced at Dumbledore.

"Perhaps we should tell him," he said.

"I have a sinking feeling I won't like this," Snape said. "It can therefore only mean one thing."

"Two words: Invisibility Cloak," Dumbledore said.

"I knew it. Those three. The Restricted section attracts them like moths to a flame."

"Miss Granger is the one who found the right potion, and Mister Potter is the one who administered it," McGonagall said.

"Miss Granger. There's a shock," Snape said. He frowned. "But... why did Potter wish to... Acknowledged all the times I saved his life, then, did he?"

"Severus," McGonagall said. "He was... what happened to you affected him deeply."

"Is that so-" Snape's mind was jolted by an image he'd seen in Dumbledore's pensieve, and he suddenly went pale.

Potter, weeping in the Headmaster's office.

I could see him.

"The Dark Lord established a connection with the boy again," Snape said.

After a moment, Dumbledore nodded.

"How much did Potter... did Harry see?"

"Voldemort did not spare him anything," Dumbledore said.

"I remember little," Snape whispered. "After a while, it was just pain, and nothingness."

"Harry was in shock for some time. Voldemort's tactic was particularly insidious. He hinted that Harry was enjoying what he was being shown," Dumbledore said.

"Voldemort has no regard for his victims, no matter how young or old they may be." Snape shook his head. "I regret the boy was exposed to yet another of Voldemort's... atrocities."

"When he told me what had happened, I feared I would never see you again, Severus," Dumbledore said, and his eyes watered.

Pomfrey and McGonagall fumbled for their handkerchiefs.

"Enough tears have been shed because of this," Snape said. "The Dark Lord did not succeed, and I intend to spend a leisurely summer here at Hogwarts, recuperating."

"Well, excuse me while I check if my ears heard correctly," Pomfrey said.

"My goodness. Don't tell me you're going to be sensible from now on," McGonagall said.

"Let's not get carried away," Snape said.

****

Over the next few days, the Potions Master demonstrated just how amenable he could be when he wished. Once the wrist braces were off, Pomfrey and Dumbledore helped him take his first steps since he'd been captured by Voldemort. Soon he was walking on his own, albeit with a cane, which had been a present from Hagrid. Every morning, his hospital room was crowded with students bringing gifts and gawking at their relatively good-humored professor. In the afternoon, he wandered in the gardens with McGonagall and rested. He was eating more and looking better than anyone could recall.

At last he was well enough to attend the party his Slytherins had been feverishly planning for almost a week. The end of year ball would focus on celebrating the Potions Master's return to health, and all of Hogwarts anticipated the event with a great deal of excitement.

Snape, however, was more than slightly apprehensive. He was still adjusting to his new-found status as a heroic figure and often seemed unsure of how to react in any given situation... especially one where the entire school would be extolling his accomplishments.

He studied his reflection and sighed.

Apart from grey strands of hair, few traces of what he'd endured remained. On the contrary, his features had softened. There was a warmth in his dark eyes that hadn't been there before, and his lips were now capable of smiling.

Nose is still the same size, though. Oh well. It's not as if I was ever Prince Charming.

He made a face at the thought.

"Severus? Everyone is waiting," came McGonagall's voice from the room next to his bedchamber.

"Coming," he said, glancing at his new set of dress robes one last time.

"Finally," McGonagall said when he joined her. "My stars. Aren't you dashing."

"And you look lovely as always."

She snorted. "Remind me not to leave my glass slipper behind."

"What?"

"Never mind. Let's just say Miss Granger loves to share her Muggle literature with me."

"God preserve me."

"Well, we'd better get going, or we're really going to be late. I expect a riot would break out if you failed to show."

He grabbed his cane and proffered his arm. "Professor."

"Nervous?"

"Rubbish. It's just a party."

But as they neared the Great Hall, she saw his Adam's apple bob more than once.

"Don't worry. All of this will die down after summer vacations, and you can get back to normal," McGonagall said.

"As if my life has ever resembled anything remotely similar to normalcy." He frowned, suddenly aware of a disquieting fact: although he and Minerva were now only a few feet away from their destination, an eerie silence reigned in the hallway. "I thought you said all four Houses would be in attendance. Shouldn't there be... some sort of racket at the moment?"

"My. Perhaps the event was cancelled. What a relief for you."

His lips thinned in a manner worthy of the Transfiguration professor herself. "How well you know me." What were those children up to? Surely Minerva wouldn't have brought him here if no one... Not that he cared. Still, he'd really believed the students had, well, grown fond of him.

I did NOT just think that.

"Stop brooding, Severus," McGonagall said, steering him toward the entrance. "Look."

All the children were standing at their respective tables, along with the entire Hogwarts teaching staff. Dumbledore said, "Everyone, greet our guest of honor. I give you, Professor Snape."

The moment the students began to clap, Slytherin banners unfurled along the walls, and sparkling green and silver confetti showered the entire assembly. McGonagall gently nudged the Potions Master forward. He held on tightly to her arm and they slowly walked towards the head table, the clapping hands now accompanied by cheers. It seemed his heart had risen somewhere near the base of his throat.

Snape reached his seat in the nick of time: his legs buckled, and he was immediately assisted by McGonagall and Lupin, who helped the overwhelmed professor sit down.

"Children, if you'll allow me to speak, children..." After Dumbledore's fifth attempt, the applause at last subsided. "Before we commence the night's festivities, I would like to say a few words on your Potions Master's behalf, and to present him with a special, long-overdue gift, courtesy of the Ministry of Magic, in recognition of his many years of loyal service to the cause."

Had Snape not already been sitting, he would have collapsed.

"I'm quite sure, my dear Severus, that you would prefer I keep this speech as short as possible. Therefore, I will limit myself to these words. The wizarding community will never be able to repay you entirely for your countless sacrifices. While many were recognized for their efforts, you had to work in secrecy, suffering not only at the hands of the Dark Lord, but at the unwitting hands of allies, many of whom in fact owed you their lives. My sincerest wish is for all to acknowledge your courage, strength, and humanity, and for you to experience the happiness you were denied while fighting to secure it for everyone else."

"Headmaster, that's enough," Snape said, unable to keep his voice from shaking.

"Sadly, Minister Fudge couldn't be with us today-"

Almost everyone in the Great Hall sneered à la Snape.

"-official duty, as I understand. Which leaves me with the privilege of bestowing upon you, Severus..."

Dumbledore opened a silver box lined with red velvet and approached the Potions Master, whose features had turned ashen.

"The Order of Merlin, First Class," the Headmaster said, and pinned it to Snape's jacket. "Congratulations, my boy. No one deserves this more than you."

The Potions Master's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. He gripped his cane, pushed himself to his feet, and clutched Dumbledore's shoulder.

"This is your day, Severus. This is at last your day," the old wizard said, and embraced Snape. Moments later, the Potions Master was surrounded by the rest of his colleagues, each hugging him in turn.

The Great Hall echoed with thunderous applause. Once McGonagall had held him in her arms and kissed him on the cheek, he slumped back in his seat. He stared, dumbfounded, at the students' standing ovation, and fingered his medal, as if to convince himself it was truly there.

When the noise finally died down again, Dumbledore said, "Now, Severus, would you like to say something? No, no, I insist you remain seated, lad."

Snape abandoned his useless attempt to get to his feet one more time, and softly said, "Thank you. I... I need a drink, actually."

Laughter rang across the room.

"Well then, let the feast begin!" Dumbledore said.

****

All our friends keep knocking at the door
they've asked me out a hundred times or more
but all I say is leave me in the gloom
and here I stay within my lonely room
'cause I don't want to walk without you, baby

~Harry James and His Orchestra

A couple of hours later, and about five glasses of wine later, the Potions Master was looking much more relaxed.

"That wasn't so bad, was it, Severus?" McGonagall said. She couldn't quite remember how many toasts they'd shared so far, and her eyes were a lot brighter than usual.

"I'm still going to kill Albus. Springing the Order of Merlin on me like that. Thank God I don't have a weak heart on top of everything else."

"I'd say you're coping with the shock rather well."

He smirked. "Coping has often made the difference between life and death in my case."

"Oh, Severus. I'm sorry if-"

"Minerva, I spoke in jest," he said, chagrined by her crestfallen expression. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's been a while since I've had this much alcohol, I'm afraid."

"We're not drunk yet, I don't think," she said, smiling now. "Besides, the evening is young, and Albus made sure there would be a plentiful supply of brandy."

The tables were cleared from the floor, the lights grew dim, and music began to play.

"Since I'm evidently doomed to pass out by nightfall, would you like to have this dance?" Snape said.

Her eyebrows shot up.

"I may be a bit rusty, but I was a most sought after partner during my -well..." It was his turn to look downcast. "Dark revels weren't all blood and agony, you know."

"I would love to dance with you." Then she glanced at his silver tipped cane and said, "Will you be-"

"For one dance, I don't see why not. As long as you don't step on my feet."

"We'll see who steps on whose feet, Professor Snape."

A number of couples were already swaying to music, but they all retreated into the shadows when they saw Snape and McGonagall heading towards the dance floor.

"Oh, dear," she said. "I hope you don't mind being the center of attention again."

The upbeat music faded, replaced by an old Muggle war song, I don't want to walk without you.

He clasped her hand and pulled her slightly closer. "Let's really give them something to talk about, then."

"What?"

He swung her into motion and they began to dance.

"Severus Snape, I think I should have believed you when you said you'd had one too many."

He lowered his head and whispered to her ear, "Haven't you noticed, Minerva? Galleons have been circulating round the Great Hall all evening."

"I'm not sure I follow you," she said, frowning.

"Also, I overheard Lupin, who apparently drinks even less often than I do, brag about his odds of winning 'the bet.' If his less than discreet exchange with Dumbledore is not a figment of my imagination, Harry Potter will owe him a tidy sum before the clock strikes twelve."

"Bet? Clock? What on earth are you going on about?"

"It appears the majority of those present expect me to kiss you at some point. Potter and a minority believe otherwise."

McGonagall's jaw dropped. "I never! Of all the foolish..."

"Would it bother you so much if I did?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I wouldn't, I mean- Severus, it's not that I don't want you to, but, well... Honestly! It's totally inappropriate. Wagering on whether or not we'll kiss. This whole evening is supposed to be in homage to your valiant-"

"I am wearing a medal, aren't I? Isn't the hero entitled to a kiss?"

"You can't be serious. Why would you-"

"Keep it up, Minerva, everyone thinks we're arguing. The students whose gamble rests on a snog look like they're about to walk in a potions class," he said, chuckling.

"Severus, this isn't funny at all."

His eyes locked with hers. "You're right. I apologize. Maybe it's just that..."

"Yes?"

"You know, I might have made this entire thing up just to have an excuse to kiss you."

A blush suddenly tinged McGonagall's cheekbones. "Severus. You're worse than, than..."

"You shouldn't have spent so much time by my bedside while I was ill. Call me crazy, but I've become rather used to having you around."

The song was coming to an end, but Snape and McGonagall were too engrossed in their conversation to notice; the Slytherins who were in charge of the music quickly put on That old black magic, and all continued to watch the couple with baited breath. Would the solemn Potions Master throw decorum out the window and kiss his former teacher?

"Severus, we should come to our senses before we do something we'll both regret."

"I'm no longer in the mood to be sensible."

"We should sit down. Your leg-"

"Is fine." A slow smile curved his lips. "I'm making you nervous. How very interesting."

"Ha! I wouldn't delude myself if I were you." But she was beginning to appreciate the rumors countless students had circulated about Snape over the years. For a moment, she wondered if he was getting ready to kiss her, or bite her. Had he always been this tall?

His mouth neared her eyebrow, and his palm slid a bit lower down her back. "I think I'm now disposed to listen to your advice, Minerva. Sod the bloody past."

McGonagall cursed herself inwardly. Oh, she really should have refused that third glass of wine...

He touched her lips with his, and she started.

"What are you doing?!"

"I don't know." His mouth grazed hers as he spoke. "This isn't technically a kiss, is it."

The students and staff also seemed uncertain as to whether Snape's caress constituted a kiss or not. They were sitting so close the edge of their seats, some actually fell off.

McGonagall's hand moved from Snape's shoulder to his chest, and she made a half-hearted attempt at pushing him away.

"Am I so repulsive?" he said, withdrawing.

"Not at all, how can you say such a thing."

"Then why are you-"

"Severus, I'm too old."

"No."

"I'm almost seventy."

His mouth was hovering near hers again. "I couldn't care less."

She reached up despite herself, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "And you're-"

"Old enough to know what I'm doing."

A number of people in the room were already demanding their winnings, convinced that The Kiss no less than a second away; then loud groans and a few cheers were heard when Snape, instead of pressing his lips against McGonagall's, brushed his mouth along her cheekbone and kissed her near the earlobe, just beneath her jaw line.

McGonagall, for her part, let out something like a squeak, and Snape felt her shiver in his arms. At last he raised his head, a brazen expression lining his features.

Head of House of Slytherin, 1. Head of House of Gryffindor, 0.

"Would you mind telling me just what it is you're up to, Professor Snape?" she said.

"My dear Minerva, how can I disappoint young Mister Potter after he saved my life? As I told you, he's wagered that I won't kiss you. I gather the unspoken understanding was that the kiss had to involve mouth to mouth contact."

The heated discussions taking place all over the room were an indication that it probably should have been a spoken understanding. Did a kiss below the ear count? Eventually, some of the Slytherins realized that the record player was silent, and they scrambled to put another song on.

"We really should sit down," McGonagall said, regaining her composure. Her arms slid from around his neck.

"I must confess," Snape said with a sigh, "that I am getting a bit tired."

"Well, no wonder, with all this..." She huffed. "Foolishness. Let's go back to the Head Table. I suppose your leg hurts? If you'd listened-"

"Don't tell me that you're going to start mollycoddling me again. It only aches a little, that's all."

She took his arm and they left the dance floor, much to everyone's dismay. Snape was limping slightly; Dumbledore grabbed the Potions Master's cane, and met them halfway.

"Here, Severus. I believe all the festivities have begun to take their toll on you, lad," Dumbledore said.

"Yes, Headmaster. I think perhaps I should be heading for my quarters. Though it's still early-"

"Don't you start fretting, Severus. No one will be upset if you leave now, they know you need your rest," Dumbledore said. "Off you go."

"I'll be calling it a night as well, Albus," McGonagall said.

"Of course. I daresay I'll be retiring myself soon. Good night to you both."

Snape and McGonagall slowly exited the Great Hall, the Potions Master reassuring many concerned students that he was fine, only worn out.

Three persistent Gryffindors, however, were tougher to convince.

"You weren't limping earlier, professor," Harry said.

"I may have had too much exercise for one evening, Mister Potter. Nothing a few hours of sleep won't fix."

"I hope you have a good night, Professor Snape," Harry said.

"And sweet dreams," Hermione said.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Incidentally, I assume you are one of the few present who didn't put any money on the table, as it were?"

"Certainly not, oh! I mean, no. I mean, I don't know what you mean, sir."

McGonagall cocked her eyebrow in a manner reminiscent of the Potions Master.

"I see," Snape said, his voice imbued with mock reproof. "Well, don't stay up too late, children."

"Yes, sir. Good night, professors," Harry, Hermione and Ron said in unison.

Once Snape and McGonagall were a good distance away from the Great Hall, he began to laugh.

"Amused, are you?" McGonagall said. "I can tell you that Albus will be hearing from me in the very near future."

"Come now, Minerva. You of all people should know what to expect from a fellow Gryffindor."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear what you just said."

"The Headmaster is a born prankster. To be honest, I've always wondered how it was that you were sorted into Gryffindor, you've much more in common with Ravenclaws. Sensible, highly intelligent-"

"The Sorting Hat definitely made no mistakes in your case."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She was about to reply when she heard his sharp inward breath. "Severus?"

"It's all right," he said, gripping her arm tightly. "You were correct, I overextended myself."

"Perhaps we should go to the Hospital Wing."

"Not bloody likely," he said. "I want to lie down in my own bed, in my own quarters. I've spent enough time in the bloody Hospital Wing-" He grit his teeth, and slowed his pace even more. "To last me a bloody lifetime."

"Let's get you to the dungeons as quickly as possible, then," McGonagall said.

He nodded.

By the time they reached his private quarters, his brow was moist with sweat. He took the wards off his door and she helped him sit in an armchair.

"Thank you, Minerva." His head fell back and he closed his eyes. "That's better."

She bent down and gripped his leg; his eyelids flew open.

"What are you doing?"

She placed his leg on the ottoman in front of the chair. "I'll have a look to make sure."

"It's not necessary."

McGonagall shivered and glanced at the darkened fireplace. "Do you ever heat this place up, Severus?" She muttered a spell and the neglected pile of logs burst into flames. "It's so damp in here, I'm amazed you don't suffer from perpetual colds."

"Snakes are cold-blooded."

"You're not a snake, just a Slytherin." She undid the buttons at his ankle, and then gently started to remove his shoe.

He hissed.

"I'm sorry," she said, stopping. She looked at him. "Or was that your impression of a snake?"

"Very funny."

A few more careful tugs, and she dropped his shoe on the floor. "Your foot is swollen."

"I can very well see that- ouch! Would you stop messing about with it?"

She sat on the ottoman, put his lower extremity on her lap, and began to take his sock off.

"Minerva," he said, his voice faltering, "I- I appreciate your solicitude, but an ice pack would be preferable, I think."

"Keep still and count yourself lucky I'm not flooing Poppy. Look at this -your ankle is turning blue. Do you have any salves handy?"

"On the bedside table, in my chambers."

"Accio salve." The small glass container flew across the room into her hand. "You know, you'll really have to make sure these rooms are warmed properly from now on. Humidity will only make your condition worse."

She rubbed the salve into his skin and gently massaged his ankle. He squirmed.

"Am I hurting you?" she said.

"No, but... No."

Her eyes darted in his direction. The look on his face was clearly one of discomfort. She recalled his smugness after he'd kissed her neck; his confidence had completely vanished now that she was the one touching him.

Or perhaps the effect of the wine he'd had was fading.

"Relax," she said quietly. "Soon you'll feel less pain."

"I know."

She worked in silence for a while, and his tension gradually decreased.

"You really had me going for a minute back in the Great Hall," she said.

"Oh?" He yawned, then looked at her and realization hit him. "Oh. Minerva, truly, I apologize. It's not like me to be so... forward. The whole evening went to my head."

"Don't be sorry." She chuckled, and shrugged. "It's not every day an old woman like me is seduced by an attractive younger man."

He straightened in his chair. "You must be joking."

"What did you think, Severus? I assure you it's been some time since I've had suitors knocking on my door."

"That's not what I meant."

McGonagall stared at him.

Am I so repulsive?

Her face softened and she said, "I'm the one who's sorry, Severus. That you didn't kiss me. On the lips, as the students would say."

"Really," he said, turning red.

"I can't believe it. I've managed to put a little color in your cheeks."

His mouth thinned. "It's too hot in here with that blasted fireplace."

"How's your foot now?"

"Much improved."

"Do you need help getting to bed?"

"I'll be all right."

She set his leg on the ottoman and rose. "Well. Thank you for a lovely evening, Severus. And congratulations again."

"Thank you."

She walked to the door, then paused.

"Minerva?" Snape said.

She marched back to where he sat, and grasped his shoulders.

"I was thinking just now, Severus, that I need to remind the both of us that I am a Gryffindor."

And without further ado, she kissed him.

A small sound escaped his lips, but it was muffled by her mouth gently pressed against his. He wasn't moving at all and she was about to pull away, then felt his hesitant fingers grip the edge of her robes near the base of her neck.

When she finally withdrew, he whispered, "Are you positive it's been that long since you've entertained smitten admirers?"

"Oh, quite." But she was smiling. "Though I think we've had enough excitement for one day." She looked at his ankle. "You're sure you'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine. I may even have a sweet dream or two now, thanks to you." He shut his eyes.

"Go lie down before you fall asleep in your chair."

"I suspect you're right," he said, and with a little help from McGonagall, got to his feet. She gave him his cane and they stared at each other for a few moments.

"I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast?" he finally said.

"Glad to hear you're leaving your reclusive habits behind you."

"The incentives are becoming more difficult to resist. Good night, Minerva."

"Good night, Severus."

He watched her exit his quarters, then slowly limped to his bedroom, where he changed into a nightgown and curled on the bed. Exhausted by all the day's momentous events, he soon drifted off to sleep. His last conscious thought was that he could no longer bear to be unhappy.

****

The next morning, when Snape awoke, he made a decision: his old life was over. He would forgive himself for the many mistakes he'd made in the past, and rediscover whoever had lain buried underneath all those layers of bitterness, hurt and anger he'd spent most of his life building.

He rose and walked to the bathroom. Instead of avoiding the mirror as he'd so often done, he studied his reflection, trying to see himself the way McGonagall had described him the evening before.

An attractive younger man.

A smirk threatened to twist his mouth, but he squelched it. He knew she hadn't been lying. He gazed at his features.

Maybe... there was some truth to her words.

If so, he should take better care of himself.

He filled the bath with hot water, stepped in, and reclined against the porcelain surface. Then he murmured a charm, and the steam that was wafting from the tub was infused with the scent of cinnamon, cloves and ginger. He breathed deeply, and relaxed even more.

Relaxation. That was nice.

Almost as nice as the children's eagerness to speak to him, to be with him. Even though it'd been against his will, once his protective barriers were destroyed and his exposed wounds treated, isolation was revealed as the cause of all that had ailed him from the very beginning.

It was better to be loved. He couldn't deny it anymore.

It was better to love...

He washed himself, then put on his bathrobe and went to his closet.

"Time for a change, I think."

He waved his hand across a set of black robes and said, "Veritas coloris." Immediately the thick cloth turned into an emerald shade of green.

An amused smile wavered on his lips.

Hope.

He dressed, grabbed his cane, and left the dungeons.

Finis.