Chapter 1
On a cold night in early January, Minerva Mcgonagall’s hands tremble as she downs her third whisky.
Her afternoon had been spent with Hermione Granger. They’d had tea, all the while discussing the mid-year vacation and the imminent arrival of students to the castle. Minerva’s favourite ex-student rambled on about her holiday, which she spent visiting their mutual acquaintances, and her advanced studies in Arithmancy, which Minerva was definitely not well-versed in. Tea turned into dinner, and soon enough, it was time for them to part ways.
It was when Hermione moved to put on her robes that Minerva glimpsed two dark red lines running across her collarbone, one slightly ahead of the other, as though racing for her sternum. They were not overly distinguishable, and could easily be mistaken for scars. Knowing her ex-student, she was certain that Hermione passed them off as such.
But she was not fooled.
Long before the Second Wizarding War, Minerva had seen them once before. Specifically, when the current Headmaster was a much younger lad, shedding his robes and unbuttoning the collar of his dress shirt in the teachers’ lounge while correcting essays deep into the night.
They were now hiding in plain sight, camouflaged in the web of scars he wears proudly around the castle.
Soul marks.
Hermione Granger and Severus Snape are soulmates.
She’d frozen, forgetting to call upon an elf to whisk away the remains of their dinner service. For a moment, it had seemed that she could blame it on old age. To blink away the searing proof and admit that her vision had failed her. In truth, there was nothing blurred, perceived, or imagined in what she had seen.
Her bravery failing her, she said nothing. After Hermione promised to see her soon and stepped through the floo, Minerva fell into her chair and broke out the good whisky.
Sipping it is not enough.
A few years ago, she would have vehemently opposed such a match. But time had wizened the old witch, and she and Severus had a lifetime between them... First, as her student, then as her colleague and friend. As enemies on opposite sides of an age-old conflict that seemingly would never be resolved. She doubted him many times over its course, but after it, when all the machinations of dear Albus saw the light, Severus’ loyalties were unquestionable.
He was the bravest man she’d ever known. He deserved to know what awaits him. What magic has gifted him, long before he fought in two wars and cemented his fate to Hogwarts and the Wizarding world.
Fingers tightening around her glass, her resolve hardens. She’d be damned if she stands aside and watches while he stumbles through his life, merely content with his potions and his work.
He was, in a way, like Hermione. The lass seemed happy, fulfilled in her personal and professional lives, and yet, there was an undercurrent of resignation that struck Minerva as familiar to that of her dear friend.
It was a life resigned to solitude.
She would not stand for it. Not when they both deserve better, when they both had almost died for the best.
And knowing them, they are well-suited.
The least she could do is start a conversation between them, especially as neither one appeared to know of the other’s existence.
Placing her tumbler on the table, she rises and shakily makes her way to her office. She has a letter to write.