CHAPTER ELEVEN

Minerva McGonagall was not known for her sense of humor. It was there, of course, hidden behind layers of stern matronly disapproval and brash Scottish ire, but it was there. At this particular moment, however, she failed to find absolutely anything funny about the situation at hand.

"Really Albus! I do wish you'd take these concerns more seriously!" Minerva huffed, trying to keep both her temper and her brogue in check at the same time. She was really only succeeding on one front as a bit more of Scotland seeped out seemingly with every breath. "I know he's never been the most… personable of individuals, and I'm not expecting he suddenly become all warm and fuzzy, Merlin knows that will never happen, but he can't keep carrying on as he is! Scarring first years witless, berating students for the simplest of mistakes. Do you 'ave any idea 'ow many of my fifth years the man has reduced to tears this term alone?! It simply can't be allowed to continue like this!"

To say that the head of Gryffindor House was not in a good mood would have been an ingenuous understatement. But still, the recipient of her ire simply sit back and smile pleasantly at her as though entertaining an endearingly overly enthusiastic child, which only served to irk Minerva to no end.

"I'm getting letters in from the parents now! Children have been home for the holidays for less than two days and I'm getting letter about how he's been treating their children! We'll be hearing from the board of directors soon if he keeps carrying on!"

"Albus sat back, his irritatingly benign smile doing absolutely nothing to calm Minerva's quelling rage. There were few things she cared about more in this world than her dear little lion cubs.

Albus sat back, smiling his irritatingly benign smile, as Minerva huffed, slowly collecting herself as her breaths fell back into her stern but steady rhythm. With her breathing back into a steady rhythm, Dumbledore obviously felt it safe to speak.

"Now Minerva…" Albus began placating. It was quickly made evident to him that it was NOT safe to speak.

"Don't you 'Now Minerva' me Albus! I understand how valuable Severus has been, both as a Potions Master and during the war, but really! At what point does the damage he is doing to the students outweigh the benefits we have by keeping him!"

"Minerva," there was a softly disappointed tone in Albus's voice that made Minerva stop in her tracks. When she looked back over her shoulder at him from where she'd been pacing out her frustrations, she saw the sad glimmer dulling his normal bright crystal blue gaze. "And what about Severus?"

"Oh, what of him?!" Minerva snapped impatiently. She knew it sounded a bit disingenuous, but at that particular moment, with the words of concerned parents ringing in her ears and Albus's disappointed stare bearing her down, she had little capacity left to worry over the admittedly fully grown man who was their Potions Master.

Albus merely continued to stare at her, sadness clouding over his pale blue eyes as he sat, gnarled hands steepled loosely in front of him. "You speak so passionately of the benefits to the school, and the cost for the students… but what about the benefits and costs for Severus?"

Minerva continued to scowl at the headmaster, stubbornly refusing his forlorn gaze. Eventually Dumbledore sighed and, peering at Minerva through half-moon spectacles, finally enticed her into taking a seat. Once she was seated, Albus spoke again.

"What do you think would happen, to Severus, my dear, if we turned him out of the castle?"

"Is that really our concern to worry about?" Minerva huffed irritatedly. True, it was always difficult losing a member of staff, particularly as they all not only worked together but lived together for the majority of the year as well. Severus was one of the few Professors who seemed to live at the castle almost year round. She knew he had another address, it was on file with the school. But the only times he ever seemed to leave was when he went on one of his little trips in pursuit of some rare ingredient or ancient text.

"I know you are aware of some of what Severus went through during the war, even before he came to our side."

Minerva was silent for a long moment at the sudden departure in topic. The war was not something readily or easily brought to mention, it had only been a half dozen years or so since that fateful October night after all. But she nodded along anyways. She recalled the sullen young man that she had known as a student, the gaunt figure she had seen across battlefields during the war, and the terrified shell of a young man who had come pleading to Dumbledore to save another, even at the cost of his own life. Though Severus had never spoken to her of any of this, she still couldn't shake the image of the violently shivering damaged husk that had been Severus Snape as he sat in Dumbledore's office being interviewed by the Headmaster. And though he had proven to be a worthwhile investment and an incredible asset as a spy, the young man had never really seemed to convince many other members of the order of his sincerity. Though, in all honesty, that had hardly seemed to be of any interest to him.

"Severus was always a lonely boy, but after the war…" Albus was speaking again, and Minerva struggled to keep up. The remembrance of the war had been jarring, to say the least, and now she had to blink quickly to refocus. Albus looked at her sadly. "He has no one Minnie. Not one person beyond the borders of this castle that I believe he could ever truly count as friend."

Minerva had to fight back a snort – she highly doubted that Severus ever counted any of the faculty other than Dumbledore in the category of 'friend', and he as a mentor more than anything. In fact, during the entire time she'd known him, as a student, enemy, traitor, spy, and later colleague, she could honestly say she'd never seen Severus socialize with anyone other than Lily Evans, with the possible exception of Lucius Malfoy. Though she very much doubted what sort of speaking terms those two might be on since the war. And yet Severus had always seemed to rather prefer it that way.

"Hogwarts has been that boys home and fortress since long before he became a teacher," Albus continued. "And in the few years where he was parted from its walls before he was lead deeply and darkly astray. I shudder to think at what may happen if he were to be parted from its walls again."

"You believe he may turn again?" Minerva asked, genuinely shocked. She had always thought Albus had more faith in the young man than that. But in that moment, Albus didn't look like the wise and kindly headmaster. He looked old and tired, like an aging uncle deeply worried over his favorite nephew. "I know you have your theories," Albus had always said he didn't believe the Dark Lord was truly gone, merely hiding, biding his time. But Minerva really didn't want to bare thinking over such things. "But do you really have so little faith in Severus that you believe he would turn on us if he strayed beyond the castle walls?!"

To be fair, Albus looked chastised, but otherwise unconvinced.

"Minerva, the boy has been through some serious hardship in his time. Both before and after the war. Hogwarts is the closest thing to a proper home he has ever known. I know you are concerned about his effect on the students, but I more worry about what affect his leaving us might have on him. I didn't intervene before, when perhaps I should have. It is possible that so much of this pain and misery could have been avoided if I had. How can I possibly turn the boy out into the cold?"

Albus looked genuinely remorseful and more tired than she could remember seeing him in ages as he sank back in his chair. But Minerva had heard enough.

"Because he isn't a boy." Albus looked up tiredly at Minerva, surprised at the sharpness in tone. But Minerva had had quite enough of his little pity party. "Severus isn't a child Albus. He is a fully grown man who, for better or worse, you employee. His is no longer one of your students that you need to watch over! Yes, he has been through a great deal in the intervening years, as have we all. But it is your actual students who need your concern now! Severus is, for all his faults and prickles, one of the finest Potions Masters in England, Europe even! His services have been demanded by research consortiums and medi-witches across the globe! And he had the strength of character to, despite having no reason for us to believe him, turn traitor in the midst of being surrounded by the DARKEST sort of support network imaginable and spy for the light!"

Minerva had found herself standing again, glaring at Albus as she peered at him over her spectacles and leaned overbearingly up against his desk. She had not in a thousand years thought to find herself up here defending Severus's character to the headmaster, but here she was, none the less.

"Severus is a grown man with more talent and character than you dare to give him credit for! He could find a new position in a HEARTBEAT if you were to release him from his contract! But you insult the man by insinuating him incapable of existing beyond your walls and your reach! And in doing so you do no favor to your students, the children whose best interests you should ACTUALLY be watching out for!" Minerva was just about fit to burst. She'd had enough of Albus's chess master guilt driven meddling and set herself to storm out of his office, her brogue still echoing through his office. "I's about ruddy time 'ou get 'ur priorities in order!"

She almost missed it, his voice was so quite. But just as she reached the bottom of the stairs she heard Dumbledores voice drift after her.

"Minnie… he has no one else…"

Minerva McGonagall did something she normally would not have believed herself capable of doing and slammed the headmasters door shut after him, startling the stone gargoyle so much he scampered up his marble column and hid near the corner where the wall met the arched stone roof, waiting for the enraged matronly Scott to pass safely into the distance.

Five thousand miles away, Severus Snape was enjoying a lovely cup of coffee as he casually perused the contents of an old record shop, a fierce and sharp witted blond hanging onto his side and laughing melodically as some savage remark he'd just made at some band or another's credentials. Her laugh occasionally devolved into a sort of snort, which only made Snape's smirk grow as he watched her almost fall over laughing, the light in her all but sparkling in the sun.

Neither of them knew that, just across the street, another familiar figure was watching their interactions, and was not happy with what they saw…