Chapter 4
Minerva had not stepped foot in Albus' office for precisely eight months - not since it had happened. Only students had been there, and she had been eager to listen to their accounts, revolting at the idea of Severus sitting behind Albus' desk, flinching when there was talk of Albus himself, whose portrait apparently remained desperately asleep.
It was Albus' office - not the headmaster's. The word headmaster was now endowed with such a bitter, loathful connotation that it wasn't used by her or the rest of the staff anymore, except for derisive purposes. They took pleasure in throwing it in Severus' face when he addressed them, saying "Of course, headmaster" in such a scornful way he often just looked away.
As she stood before the gargoyle, she wondered if she would need to talk, or if the old sculpture would remain motionless. She was unsure of what to expect, unsure of what she was doing here in the first place - yet her heart burnt with such exceptional inquisitiveness that she was hoping for anything, anything to happen that could put her mind to rest. She was an old woman; such level of emotional vigour was shaking her mind to its core.
"I think the headmaster needs me to get in", she whispered, as confidently as she could.
The gargoyle did not react.
"Severus Snape is ill, and without my help he will not be able to carry out his duties."
Again, she waited, but the statue remained stock-still.
She took a deep breath.
"Then I suppose the castle does not wish him to carry out his role. I agree. But is that wise?"
Nothing, again. Slowly, a cold, bitter sort of sadness took the place of what had been, a few seconds before, a mixture of hope and incredulity.
"Very well. I'll make sure his incapacitation becomes permanent."
She turned her back on the statue and made to leave. Each of her steps felt heavier than the last; she practically dragged herself to the other side of the corridor.
But a faint sound made her stop. It was that of stone in movement, though it was slower and feebler than it had ever been before. Almost... hesitant.
"No", was all that an olden voice said, coming from the castle's entrails. It was the gargoyle's voice, a voice she had heard so rarely in all of her time at Hogwarts that she had forgotten it could even speak.
The gargoyle had given way. The shock rendered her incapable of movement for a few seconds. She stared at the passage confusedly, aborted thoughts spiralling in her mind - was it her last words that had triggered a response?
As she went in, her feeling of uneasiness kept increasing. She felt completely dissociated from her own body which knew the way by heart and approached the room with all the confidence afforded by habit, while her mind, apprehensive, was going through a terrible hardship. She remembered the afternoons spent in that office working on teaching plans with Albus, or simply having tea; Severus had been there often; she and he would systematically refuse the lemon drops proposed by the headmaster. She remembered, also, how in the last few months they had all spent so little time together.
The office had changed, though not that much. Only a few cabinets had been filled with dark leather-bound books instead of Albus's curios, and though some decorations were missing, his presence could still be felt everywhere. She should have been glad, and yet, as she approached and spotted a portion of Albus' shiny objects in their rightful place, she could not help but remember by whom they were currently owned, and what they might symbolize. Albus' presence lingered in the office, and still, it had become the property of You-Know-Who himself. He was shoving his victory right in their face, Albus' belongings had become a mere trophy; a twisted sort of badge of honour. She felt sick, unable to cross the threshold.
But, cutting short any further reflection, a familiar voice echoed through the room.
"Severus?"
Her heart missed a beat. Taking a few more steps, she placed herself in the centre of the circular room, in full view of all the venerable portraits.
Albus' was there too. Of course, it stood out from the rest of them, for he had been portrayed in his outrageously bright and colourful robes; his painted face was fully awake and staring at her with a queer expression, one of confusion. Such an expression had never been part of his physiognomy.
For a moment Minerva was overwhelmed by the fact she could actually speak to her friend, that he was here, that she could hear his voice - she felt the urge to cry out his name, to tell him how much she had missed him, how scared she was. She had often wondered, if she was ever to speak with his portrait, what they would say about Severus. Because she was angry, so very angry that he had been so naïve and wanted to hear him say it - that he had been wrong - that he had made a mistake. What, she wondered every time, would he say? Would he try to explain himself, to explain Severus' behaviour? In her grief, the idea of confronting him had given her a strange feeling of satisfaction. But now that she was standing before him, all she could do was wait for him to speak. To reassure her. Guide her. Comfort her.
"Minerva", Albus spoke. "I don't understand."
But that was not within his power anymore.
"Neither do I" she answered, her voice toneless. "But I assume you are looking for Severus."
The familiar blue gaze was fixed on her, searching her face for clue that would explain her presence. It was oddly satisfying to be the one confounding such a great wizard, to be, for once, the one in control.
"Am I to understand, then", Minerva said after a short pause, "that you decided to remain on good terms with your murderer? Perhaps you are hoping that he can be saved, yet again?
It was another portrait that spoke. "Professor McGonagall", he addressed her in a deep, ancient voice, "did something happen to the headmaster?"
Minerva turned to look at him.
"I found him half dead in a corridor yesterday", she said blankly. Before any of them could speak, she pursued. "The castle judged it would be in the school's best interest to let me in, apparently. Perhaps to get a piece of advice."
There were a few murmurs among the portraits. Even ones she could not remember having ever seen awake were now agitated. Again, she turned toward Albus, expecting an answer.
She deserved one.
The former headmaster seemed to be pondering his options. "I am afraid the school would suffer if anything was to happen to him.", he finally said, slowly. "Voldemort would take revenge on our students."
Mineral looked down at the headmaster's enormous, claw-footed desk. It was one of the only pieces of furniture that truly bore the marks of a different owner: there were, on its wooden surface, piles of parchment and documents from both the ministry and school administration. On their left was a dark green quill whose sides, despite obvious care, were worn out.
"I was under the same impression", she replied, her gaze lingering on the desk for a few more seconds. Of all the places where Albus' portrait might have been hung, it stood directly to the bureau's left. If one was to sit down behind it, the portrait would be able to peer right above their shoulder.
"It is the wisest thing to do, Minerva," the former headmaster said in a matter-of-fact tone, looking at her intensely. She held his gaze.
Then, slowly, she turned her back on them, her face unreadable.
"I'll see that he does not die, then."
Only once she had left the room did her countenance break. Her heart was beating too fast, she was trembling, shaking, hardly aware of her surroundings. She rested a few minutes against the cold stone wall, breathing in and out, her hands resting on her stomach. Alone in the heavy silence, one that was unnatural in Hogwarts and to which she had not gotten used to, she should have been dejected; but there was something like fire in her beating heart, a kind of hope she had not felt for many months.
Albus' portrait, at the left of the desk.
She took the direction of the dungeons.
When she entered Severus' bedroom, Poppy was wiping her hands with a towel next to the bed. He still looked terrible, but there was some colour to his cheeks that had not been there the day before.
"Ah, Minerva, there you are. He is doing better, though barely. Still, the nutritive potion did wonders."
She nodded. "Thank you, Poppy. I think we did what we had to do." She watched as the nurse finished packing her things, eager to be left alone with Severus.
"You don't have to stay, Minerva. We'll check on him if he does not re-appear in a week. He should be able to manage. Only Merlin knows how he's managed until now, after all."
"Good."
Poppy paused, her hand resting on the door's handle. "Are you okay, Minerva?"
Her colleague smiled weakly. "No. But I'll push through. Thank you, Poppy."
The nurse nodded and, gently, closed the door behind her. Minerva listened to her footsteps until the sound faded to the upper floors of the castle.
She turned her attention back to Severus.
Yes, it was true that he looked a little better, and what she would have taken as a personal affront a few hours before brought her such relief she almost broke down crying. But it was not the time; not now. In a last effort, one that seemed superhuman to her, she sat down next to the bed, her whole body rigid.
And she waited.
When it was time for dinner, she went down to the kitchens herself to avoid summoning a house-elf. As she put the food down on the nearest table, Severus stirred. She froze.
"You will get yourself killed", he said in a feeble voice. "Get out now."
For what felt like the millionth time today, Minerva took a deep breath. Then, she spoke.
"I think you haven't been honest with me, Severus. Tell me, why do you still speak with Albus?"
The Slytherin had been attempting to sit up. He stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned his face towards hers.
"I killed Dumbledore", he said simply.
The muscles on Minerva's face grew tense.
"You did. And still, when I went into your office, his portrait was looking for you. Fytherley Undercliff called you "headmaster". I must say, Umbridge never had that privilege."
For a second, Severus could not hide his shock; a testimony of how sick he still was. He stared blankly at her.
"You told me you speak with Albus. Regularly, apparently."
"I did not", he answered sharply. He paused. "I was delirious."
"You were. But you still had a fair amount of veritaserum in you. Delirium does not necessarily equal nonsense, does it?"
She sat at the edge of the bed. "Severus. Please, don't lie to me."
The former Potion Master did not reply, something which was as rare as the expression of perplexity on Albus' face.
He had failed, he thought with self-disgust. If anyone was to know, all could be lost - and she shouldn't have been able to get into Albus' office… she shouldn't have.
"They just let me in", Minerva told him, as if reading his thoughts. "I remember that the headmaster's office had remained sealed to Umbridge. She had to take residence in her own office with that ridicule golden plaque of hers that said headmistress. But you, Severus? You can get into the office. I always wondered why. You... are working in the school's best interest."
He pursed his lips.
"I am indeed a better alternative than the Carrows."
"Still, if the office had been sealed to you, you could have used any other room to preside over the school."
"The Dark Lord would have taken offence."
"Two Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw break into the headmaster's office to steal the sword of Gryffindor - if the office let them in, it means that it has not lost its wit - and you only gave them detention with Hagrid?"
"Again. A better alternative than the Carrows."
"Severus. You are a formidable liar, but I am no fool."
Severus stared at her cautiously. There was absolute conviction in her eyes - something he could not extinguish.
So he looked away. And she saw him, for the first time, looking genuinely afraid.
"Minerva, you must understand, this puts us all in danger."
She stopped breathing.
Then, the tension that had formed in her chest gave way to a flow of emotions she had been containing for too long. For a moment she was completely still, her hands squeezing hard the fabric of her skirt - the next, without any warning, she was hugging him tightly, something she had never done before.
Severus did not move. He, too, did not dare breathe.
"So it's true then, it's true", she said, sobbing.
"I did not say -"
"Be quiet", she cut him off, refusing to move."I beg you, be quiet."
Severus complied. He was exhausted, he was weak, and his body responded before his mind could. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back.
Then he closed his eyes in shame.
"You will - I will have to erase this memory", he told her after a while, lying down again. Reluctantly, she let go of him.
"I know", she answered simply. "Please do not take everything out. I could just be an old, delusional woman, clinging on to anything that might prove one of her closest friends did not betray her."
For a second, Severus was rendered speechless by emotion. Then he shook his head.
"Legilimency isn't mind reading, it is just viewing and interpreting memories. But veritaserum, Minerva."
"I have mastered the art of answering questions without giving out much information", she said, remembering the months of training the Order had been through. "Severus… what happened in the office means nothing on its own. Do not take it out."
He did not reply.
"I am so sorry. I should have known."
These few words, however, triggered a violent reaction in the other man. He looked away, his body shaken by slight tremors.
"No, no you should not have. I should have been more careful. Don't you see? I failed, I failed miserably, everything we have worked for -"
"Severus, calm down. You will erase this memory. There won't be any further evidence. I am unlikely to be questioned by You-Know-Who himself - and he trusts you, I'm sure, though he is not always satisfied. You were sick. It was all out of your control."
"He trusts me, yes. But the smallest mistake... He does not forgive, nor does he forget."
He looked away.
"Why were you given veritaserum?"
"The Carrows find me too lenient."
"And?"
"The Dark Lord wanted me to confess it."
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"And what did he say?"
"I convinced him that useless casualties among students were not in our best interest."
"Was he satisfied?"
"Yes. Though he enjoyed asking me a number of personal questions. I have power - he likes to remind me who my true Master is."
"I am sorry."
Minerva did not know how she felt. She was surprised at her own calmness, as if the relief and happiness were stronger than the initial shock and anger. She wanted to question him, to ask him how he could have done it, what Albus had been planning, what this whole mascarade entailed - but -
"I have… missed you too, Minerva."
A tear fell on her knee.
"Please forgive me", she whispered, almost incapable of speaking. "Please forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive."
Severus had taken the memory away. All she was left with, until the very end, was the intimate conviction that there was something more to his betrayal than deceit and hatred, although she could not tell why. Severus was a talented wizard, and he had partly fulfilled his promise - though he had modified her memory of the headmaster's office, she could still clearly hear Albus' worried voice as he had called Severus' name, and that alone was enough to doubt. It was enough - enough to still play her part convincingly, for him to play his; enough, also, to notice how little harm came from his punishments when the Carrows did so much damage. Once or twice, she had called him by his first name, watching him carefully. He had never reacted. But it was all he had needed. A reassuring presence. The hope that, at least, someone would know.
She was there when he shook his head in defeat in spite of her desperate attempts to heal his severed carotid. She knew it was a deadly wound.
She took his hand and pressed it into hers.
"I'm here", she said, her mouth trembling.
He squeezed her hand, just for one second. It was a confirmation - suddenly, the spell was broken.
"There is... nothing... to forgive", he repeated.
Then he moved no more.