Rough Times

Albus had thought a lot about what Severus had told him the previous evening, and was still thinking about it when he walked by the hospital wing. He should speak with Poppy. After all, he needed her to check on Severus.

He pushed the door. Minerva was there as well. She was sternly reprimanding a student who, apparently, had thought it clever to push a first-year Slytherin down the stairs. He politely waited for her to dismiss him, absorbing himself with a brochure he found on the nearest table.

"Good morning, Albus. Any plans on this beautiful Saturday?" the transfiguration professor asked him finally, taking off her glasses to clean them. She liked to tease him by impersonating him, as he was usually the one being overly positive on weekday mornings. He smiled.

"Hello, Minerva. Do you know where Poppy might be? I need to talk to her about Severus."

Minerva frowned. "Is Professor Snape sick?"

Albus sat on the nearest bed. "Well, I am not sure. But his mental health still has not improved and I fear it might be impacting his physical health as well."

His colleague's facial expression remained neutral. Albus decided to continue.

"I reckon he does not feel welcome among us, and it saddens me. I think the boy is desperate for any kind of acknowledgement of his efforts."

"That boy was also a death-eater, Albus", Minerva replied. "You cannot expect more than mere civility from us."

Despite himself, Albus gave her a severe look. "Don't you think, Minerva, that we all – I, more than anyone – have a share of responsibility in what happened?"

His colleague froze, obviously uncomfortable. "He made his own choices."

Albus tilted his head slightly.

"And were we there, even once, to tell him they were bad choices - or did we save that speech for students of other houses? Were we strict enough with Mr Black and Mr Potter?"

Minerva remained silent. Albus sighed.

"I am not denying him responsibility, Minerva, that you must understand. But we both know Horace was never the best head of house, and we merely accepted it. I think, however, that with some help, Severus might be a good one when the time comes."

Minerva looked at him doubtfully. "The man is too young, and he obviously dislikes children."

"Perhaps you could give him some advice, then. Don't be too hard on him - after all, he only started teaching five months ago."

"The man is a death-eater, Albus!" she cried in disbelief. "You cannot expect me to pretend that he wasn't!"

Albus' expression darkened. "He was a death-eater. And he will not soon forget it, as none of you will merely sit beside him. People can change, Minerva. Give him a chance."

A voice rose behind them. It was Poppy's.

"You forget, Albus, that not all of us are endowed with your forgiving nature. We fought against You-Know-Who for years. He killed many people we loved. We cannot accept a death-eater among us."

The older man turned his head towards her. "Ah, Poppy. I needed to talk to you as well. I heard you refused the potions Severus brewed for you yesterday."

The nurse nodded. "I did."

Albus took a deep breath.

"I want you both to know, and I obviously expect this to stay between us, that Professor Snape is a severely depressed individual. He was suicidal just a few months ago. He is not eating, he is not sleeping, only yesterday he drank so much that he passed out in front of me. Believe me, he does not need your disdain. His guilt is quite enough." He was talking in a very low voice, his sad eyes resting on the ceiling. "I do not want another of our children to die, do you understand? It cannot happen again."

Both witches stared at him in shock. None of them could conciliate this information with Snape's usually cold, contemptuous demeanour; there was a long, heavy silence.

"I did not know", Minerva finally said, looking at the headmaster. "But I cannot act as if nothing happened."

Albus pursed his lips. "That is not what I am asking from you. You could start by saying hello to him in the morning, my dear. And you, Poppy, please accept the potions he brews for you. I can assure you that they are of a far better quality than the ones you receive from St Mungo's."

Poppy sighed. "Very well. Do you need me to check on him?"

Albus relaxed a little. "Yes. But use the excuse of the obligatory staff check-up, I do not want him to know I am keeping a close eye on him yet. Or that I talked to you, of course."

"Is that all?", the nurse asked, obviously upset.

Albus nodded. "I know I am asking a lot from you… and I apologize. I just need to make sure he gets better."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Your need to bring back all the lost sheep to the fold will be the death of me, Albus. But I do not blame you." She paused. "Now, Poppy, let's drink this tea before it gets cold. Will you join us, Albus?"

The headmaster had specifically requested for the Potions Master to be present in the Great Hall at every meal. He was to sit between him and Minerva. Naturally, the younger man had been embarrassed at the beginning, but Albus had made it a point to always talk to him, even if only about his knitting magazines. He was a subscriber to a dozen papers, and one was about potions: he lent it to Severus every morning.

"You should send them your research, Severus, I am sure they would be much interested in it. And you would be able to discuss it with qualified people, since you must have noticed potions is not my best subject."

Severus frowned.

"Am I to believe that you, headmaster, know nothing about potions? Allow me to doubt that."

Albus leaned in his chair, glad to have caught his attention. It had been two months since the incident and he was rather satisfied with the progress the boy was making.

'I just have theoretical knowledge, really. You were also a brilliant student, Severus: we cannot be the best at every subject, surely you must know that. I lack dexterity to begin with."

The younger man glanced at him over his book. "Well, Transfiguration was never my strongest subject."

"You still were one of my best students", Minerva remarked, not taking her eyes off the essay she was reading. "Though I am sure you could have done better if you had not decided you disliked the subject after only a year."

Severus wasn't sure what to reply, but before he could speak, the headmaster intervened: "You are sitting between two transfiguration teachers, Severus. We can be very touchy when it comes to the topic," he added with a smirk. "Now, you haven't eaten anything yet. Can we tempt you with anything?"

"I am not very hungry", he answered.

Indeed he was about to teach his most difficult class, and as a result did not feel like eating anything at all. His stomach did not agree with food most of the time anyway, and having breakfast had never been a habit of his.

At this moment, the owls made their entrance into the Great Hall, bringing the mail. A brown letter fell in front of him, which Albus evidently noticed, as the boy usually did not receive anything. He hoped that when the young man would be financially settled, he would subscribe to one or two potion journals of his liking.

He was opening a small package sent by an old friend from the French ministry when a sudden movement made him turn back towards Severus. Almost at once, Minerva gave a small cry.

The second Severus had touched his letter, large burn marks had appeared on his hands and wrists. He winced in pain, dropping the envelope on the breakfast table. "Damn it", he muttered, clenching his teeth. Poppy stood up immediately. "Good Merlin - I'll get a healing balm, hold on one second."

Minerva touched the letter with one of her nails. She felt nothing. Cautiously, she picked it up and opened it. Inside was a simple piece of paper - it read, No death-eater should teach in a school. She handed it to Albus. Severus had already guessed what it was about. "I must have punished a student whose parents work at the tribunal", he muttered.

"Let me see your hands. I know a spell to reduce the pain. I am afraid Fawkes has just regenerated; he will not be able to heal you right away."

Severus bit his tongue. "I was supposed to make a demonstration today", he said bitterly, as Poppy came back with the balm and bandages. "Do we have to do this here?"

"I thought you hated the hospital wing", the nurse said, busying herself with his hands. Severus realised she was being kind, not forcing him to follow her in that damned place. "I'm afraid you won't be able to brew anything for the next two days."

"I'll give you a hand if you want, Severus. Just tell me what to do," Albus offered, destroying the letter with a wave of his wand. He looked gravely at its ashes.

"Are you sure?"

"Naturally. I'll do your demonstration for you, if you can guarantee that a mistake will not result in an explosion of some sort. As I have just said, I direly need to improve, and I am sure your advice will be valuable."

It actually went rather well. Severus was pleased with the headmaster's potions, though they were not perfect, and Albus had had some genuine fun. When they were finished and the students had all left, he waited for the Potions Master's feedback.

"What did you think of my performance?" Albus asked, gesturing to signify he would clean the place. Severus gratefully put his wounded hands back in his pockets.

"It was very good, headmaster. Thank you."

Pilling up what remained of the ingredients, the older man paused. "I am sorry for what happened at breakfast. I will make sure it does not happen again. I hope you did not take it personally."

Severus frowned. "It was personal, headmaster. And do not worry. I would not want a death eater teaching my children either."

"But you were cleared. And you helped us. Do not forget that."

The younger man sat behind his desk. "You know what I think of that. But it does not matter, really."

"Very well", Albus answered. He pointed at dried petals in a vial. "Are those evening primroses?"

"Yes", Severus replied, using his wand to gather new assignments into a pile. "Professor Sprout finally gave some to me. I wonder why."

He glanced knowingly at the headmaster.

"Well, I am glad. I had told her I needed you to have some to brew something that would help my old bones."

"Of course, headmaster. Were you satisfied?"

Albus was at the door. "Very, Severus. Now, don't forget to take some time for yourself. I'll see you tomorrow or Monday, however you like."