By Crow and Lillith Janvier
The Hallow'een night air was thick and menacing. A damp, cold fog obscured the gates that Minerva knew lay just ahead of her on the road. She'd heard the stories of Death Eater attacks, and knew Albus was worried. His eyes no longer twinkled and his brow furrowed with constant concern. He hadn't wanted her to pay her yearly visit to her mother's grave, but he understood the need to honor her ancestors ran deep in Minerva's blood; especially since Alethea and Calder McGonagall hadn't passed but a year ago.
She reached the gates, shrieking as a hand reached out of the dark to grasp her arm.
"I need to see the Headmaster. Now!" The voice came from behind a deathly familiar white mask.
"Who are you?" Minerva countered. "How dare you presume..." Her hand groped in her robes for her wand.
"Now, Professor McGonagall, I don't have time to waste." The young man swept away his mask. His wild black eyes darted everywhere, and a cracking noise from the forest causing him to cringe. "Please."
Minerva's eyes widened in recognition, then squinted with anger. Severus Snape. She took in his too-thin frame, the scratches and dirt that marred his usually pristine appearance, and found it hard to match the man in front of her with the boy who had once been a star pupil at Hogwarts, a boy who had turned his back on them and joined Voldemort in his bloody war.
"Snape," she spat his name. "What's the matter? Aren't you playing well with your new friends? Haven't killed enough innocent people this month?"
He opened his mouth as if to make a cutting reply, and then shut it again. Now, that's new for him, she thought. There was a time when he would have torn her to shreds with his caustic tongue.
"Please," he barely managed to get the word out.
"There is no sanctuary for you here," she said, unable to quit staring at his white mask, stark against black robes, designed to instill fear in all those who gazed upon them. Instead, these items fueled her anger, a murderous rage that made her clench her hands in pent-up frustration. "Why should we help you?"
He bowed his head. "I have nowhere else to turn. I must speak to the Headmaster. It is a matter of life and death." He winced as the words left his mouth.
Yes, how melodramatic, she thought to herself.
"Yours?" she sniffed.
"Mine, yes," he affirmed, meeting her eyes. "But there are others who will die this night if you don't help me.... If that makes any difference to you, that is." He threw the challenge in her face then stood there, silent, waiting for her to make her decision.
Damn the man.
She didn't want to let him in; she wanted to turn him away; she wanted to cast the Unforgivable herself. She opened her mouth to tell him so, when....
"Minerva, is that you? Who's that with you?" Albus's voice cut through the darkness and her hatred.
Her shoulders slumped.
"Headmaster, please, let me in. I must speak with you," Snape threw himself at the iron gates and Albus beyond.
"Mr. Snape." The Headmaster's voice was dead and cold.
"See," Minerva hissed. "I told you."
Severus Snape's shoulders slumped and the white mask dropped from his hand. His body crumpled, hitting the ground next to his mask. The puddle of the man shook with the force of his sobs.
Minerva looked down, aghast. Severus Snape crying? Her mouth fell open and she shut it with a quick snap of teeth. What did it matter to her? The boy—the man, her mind corrected—had made his bed. Now it was time for him to lie in it. Unbidden came her mother's voice, chastising her for the coldness of her heart. Minerva stared at the forest and back at Snape's shuddering body, half expecting to see her mother's shade bending in comfort.
She met Albus' eyes, seeing her own shock mirrored there. She knew Albus well enough to see how conflicted he was—his anger at the Death Eater in front of him was battling with his disappointment and sadness at losing one of his most prized students. But it was the hard glint in his eyes that made her worry. She'd seen that look before, and it was never good. Albus was scheming. The last time his face had reflected such calculation, they had been deep in the Ministry contemplating unthinkable Dark Magic. She had ended up unconscious in Saint Mungo's and Albus had stained his soul, but Grindelwald had died.
"Albus, no," she whispered.
"Tell me, Mr. Snape," Albus said, "why should Hogwarts offer you sanctuary? I will not risk the lives of my students by letting a..."
"Murdering, treacherous, snake," Minerva interrupted angrily. Certainly he couldn't even consider letting Snape inside? Albus had seen the bodies.
"Death Eater," Albus continued, "into our midst?"
Snape looked up, his face pale, eyes and nose red from crying. He visibly pulled himself together and stood up, as if he understood this was his last chance for help.
"Potter," he finally managed, "is dead."
Minerva gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. She reached out and steadied herself against the iron gates.
"James?" Albus asked, his voice low and dangerous. Only his paleness reflected how upset he was at this news. "When?"
"Tonight, and Lily too," Snape answered, looking down at the ground in front of him.
"The baby?" Minerva managed.
"Alive. Black has him," Snape answered. "He attacked me while I was searching through the rubble of the Potter's house. I was trying to save the baby," he protested. His tone infuriated her. How dare he?
"Of course, he tried to kill you, you lying snake," she hissed, pulling out her wand and pointing it at him. "You killed them, and you deserve to die."
"Minerva, enough," Albus's voice cut across the night air.
"Go ahead, but before you do," Snape said, his whole demeanor spoke of defeat, "I believe you will need to retrieve a book from my Great-Aunt. The book has the potion that will revive the child."
"What are you babbling on about now?" Minerva asked. "Stalling? I wouldn't. I'm certain Sirius would take great joy in prolonging your death."
"Yes, I am sure he would." Snape stared blindly out at the grey landscape. "The recipe is on page 243 or somewhere around there. Look for the name Félice; she was the 4th or 5th Duchesse."
Minerva was about to give him another tongue-lashing, but Albus stayed her vitriol with an upraised palm.
"Mr. Snape, may I have your wand?"
Snape looked at him with shock and hope. He pulled a wand from his left sleeve, then before handing it over, he pulled another from the inky black of his robes. "This is the one for the Prior Incantato," he said and handed them both over to Dumbledore.
Albus nodded. "Minerva, stay here and intercept Sirius Black. Take him and the child to your rooms. You are to say nothing," this last was punctuated by a hard look, "about Severus's presence. Do you understand?" Minerva opened her mouth to protest. "Minerva, this is not negotiable."
"Very well."
She watched the two men walk down the path and enter Hogwarts. How dare he? Her mind raced, furious at Dumbledore, and heart broken at the loss of two of her favorite students. She put her back against the iron gates and slid down to the cold ground, pulling her robes close around her and burying her head into her raised knees. Death was too close tonight. She sat that way, whispering laments to lost spirits until she heard the quick footsteps of someone coming up the path.
"Pro....Professor McGonagall?" a deep voice asked. And so it begins. She looked up at Sirius Black unsure what to say or do. She struggled to stand, blood flowing back into her legs, and watched his face twist in concern, fear, and finally anguish.
"I was waiting for you, Sirius," she said gently, reaching out a hand to cup his face. Here was the student who made her days as head of Gryffindor House nightmarish at times with his blatant disregard of the rules. He was careless and cocky, powerful and brash. And tonight he had lost two people very dear to him. He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head. "I know about James and Lily."
He looked confused. "How?"
"It doesn't matter now. How's the baby?" she asked, pulling back the blanket that Sirius had wrapped tightly around the baby boy. She looked at Harry's too peaceful face, covered in soot and grime, a lightning bolt scar blistering red on his forehead.
"I don't know. He won't wake up. We have to help him!"
"We will. Bring him inside."
"I didn't know where else to turn. I didn't trust taking him to St. Mungo's," Sirius rambled, stumbling behind her down to the path and to the sanctuary of his old school. They entered the large front doors, and he stopped in the foyer as Minerva made to go up the stairs to her tower. "Aren't we going to go to the infirmary?" he asked.
"No. We're going to my rooms. It's safer there." She quickly climbed the stairs, glad that the night was so late and they didn't have to worry about meeting anyone on the way. No one could know that Sirius and Harry were here.
"Where's Headmaster Dumbledore?" Sirius asked, as they reached her doors and she deactivated the charms that protected her rooms. Good question, she thought bitterly.
"He's...busy right now. He'll join us as soon as he can."
Sirius stopped and stared at her. "Busy? He's busy?"
Minerva spun around to face him. "Yes, Sirius. Albus is busy. He knows you and Harry are here. And he's trying to help." At least, I hope so.
Minerva led him to her rooms, where she settled the sleeping baby on her bed. She tucked several bolsters around him in the event he woke on his own.
"What's wrong with him?" she asked Sirius.
"I don't know." Sirius fidgeted in his chair. "I found him like this. Lily was..." He choked back a sob. "She was there beside him."
"Oh, Sirius," Minerva went to kneel beside him. "It's all right now. You brought him here."
Sirius squeezed her hand.
"Merlin, but you're freezing!" she exclaimed. "Let me get some tea to warm you up."
She was just about to call for a House Elf when a knock came at her door.
"Come in," she called, and waved her hand to bring down the wards.
"Ah, Minerva, Sirius, I have brought refreshments," said Albus, entering the room with a tray-laden House Elf. "Please Oddie, set the tray on the table." The Elf did as bidden and disappeared with a pop.
"Now then, let's have a spot of tea while we wait," said Albus. "Minerva, I know you take milk. Do you also, Sirius?"
Sirius looked at his former Headmaster with a combination of anger and amazement. "This isn't time for a tea party!" He made a move toward Dumbledore.
"Sirius, sit down!" Albus ordered. "I know what is wrong with Harry, and I know all about tonight's attack on the Potters. We must wait."
"Albus, what are we waiting for?" asked Minerva.
"We are waiting for Avice and Hubert," he replied. "They have the potion formula that will wake Harry."
"Avice? Hubert? Who are these people? How do you know what is wrong with Harry, and how can they help? What's going on here?" Sirius demanded, fists clenching and unclenching.
Albus sat down in the large armchair by the fire and started pouring tea for the three of them. He added milk to one cup, and then to another he added a generous helping of honey. After a moment's thought, he added honey to the third cup as well. "Yes," he murmured to himself, "honey is just the right touch." He offered one of the honey-ladened cups to Sirius, who stared in open-mouthed wonder at the drink. He strode across the floor and with one quick move knocked the cup out of the Headmaster's hands.
"How dare you sit here in play games as if nothing happened tonight?" Sirius demanded. "I came here for help!"
"And I will help you, in good time. Please sit down and let's..." Albus began.
"There is no ‘good time' here, Headmaster. Do you know what I witnessed tonight? I found my best friend and his wife brutally murdered, my godson entranced, the Dark Mark hanging over the ruins of the only home I ever knew, and you offer me tea and honey?"
Minerva looked idly on the mess of broken china and brown tea that was staining her favorite rug. She strode over, pulled her wand from the sleeve of her robe, and swished it over the mess, murmuring, "Evanesco." Then she turned and placed a calming hand on her former student's arm.
"Please, Sirius. Trust us," she pleaded. "Trust me."
"Trust him?" Sirius demanded, pointing to the impassive Dumbledore who sat and watched the two of them with quiet calm.
"Why not trust me?" Albus interjected. "I wasn't James' secret keeper."
Minerva gasped. Sirius took a step back as if hit. Oh Merlin, he didn't say that, did he? Albus couldn't really think... Minerva couldn't bear to finish the thought. She looked at her former student, saw him standing there trembling, skin ashen, and unbidden came another vision, of Sirius Black standing in a street, laughing, a horrible, barking sound that spoke of madness. She tried to shake the image; she had no use for signs or divinations. She didn't believe in her third eye, or reading tea-leaves, or gazing at crystal balls or the night sky to read fortunes. She left that to that silly Trelawney woman. But the apparition of Sirius' madness stayed with her, and she was afraid.
Fury rose up within her and she spun on her old friend and lover. "How dare you treat him like this when you offered solace and sanctuary to that murdering, traitorous, Death Eater Snape?!" She felt Sirius stiffen behind her, and she knew she'd made a terrible mistake. Again, her mother's gentle chiding echoed in her ears.
"Snivellus is here?" Sirius demanded in a low, dangerous voice.
Minerva felt, rather than saw, the look Albus gave her. She cringed, but shoved aside any shame in favor of the rage she felt, and glared in return to Albus's look of reproach and promised retribution.
"Sit down, both of you," Albus's voice was cold and power-laden. They sat.
Albus's eyes pierced through each of them. The last time Albus had that expression, Minerva thought, Grindelwald lay dead at his feet. She suddenly felt a crushing exhaustion. She knew what lay ahead—games and Dark magic, souls bartered and lost.
"You need to trust me this time, Sirius Black. We wait for the people who can wake young Harry up." He fixed Sirius, who had started to protest, with a severe look. "And as for Severus, my plans for him are my own. Rest assured, Avice will extract her pound of flesh."
"Who is Avice?" asked Sirius.
"I am," came a voice from the door of Minerva's rooms. "Where is he, Albus? What has happened? He hasn't, has he?"
Minerva turned to see Avice standing in the door. A tall shadow appeared behind her.
Hubert, thought Minerva.
"Who are you?" Sirius barked.
Avice ignored Sirius and strode into the room toward Albus. The Headmaster stood to greet her with a sad and solemn mien.
"Tell me it isn't true, Albus," she demanded.
Albus sighed. "I wish that I could Avice. But our worst fears have been realized." Dumbledore paused. "He's in bad shape."
"Bad shape? Oh, he knows nothing of ‘bad shape'," Avice murmured with a steely eye. "How could he? His own mother? All those other people?"
Sirius strode in between the two old friends so he couldn't be ignored.
"I'll only ask you one more time. Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?"
But Avice wasn't perturbed. She coldly perused Sirius's ragged and dirty appearance. "I am Avice Severine Yseult Saint-Exupery, la Duchesse de Crillon. And you would be?"
"Someone who doesn't give a damn about your fancy titles," he snapped. Turning to Albus he demanded, "All I care about right now is getting my hands on that snake. I'll make him pay for what he and his friends did to James and Lily."
"Whatever Severus might have done," Hubert said quietly from his position by the door, "you will not be the one to ‘make him pay', as you call it." Sirius turned and stared at Hubert with an appraising eye. Minerva saw his hands clench and let go, saw how Sirius' body stretched and lengthened. His jaw twitched. If his hair had been shorter, it too would have stood on end.
"Sirius, enough!" Albus ordered.
But Avice brushed Sirius aside. "We do not have time for this silliness. We have to move quickly. We can wipe out the Death Eaters once and for all."
"No!" Minerva objected. "Avice, you and Albus can play your little games all you want, plot your next moves and send more people out to die, but right now you must help Harry, Sirius, and yes, even Snape," she finished, spitting the name out."
Albus moved toward Minerva, but Avice spoke first. "Min, you don't understand."
Minerva waved her away. "Don't you dare tell me I don't understand! I was there when you tried to poison Albus and yourself. You were sick of it all, both of you were sick of it all. We lost good people tonight. We might still lose the baby. Don't you dare patronize me."
"We are not patronizing you. And yes, you are correct, we were sick, but now" remarked Avice, "we must set aside personal sentiment, and think of the greater good." Minerva's vision turned green and she had to turn away lest she cast the killing curse on her friend. The greater good. What greater good did it serve to have good people like the Potters, or the Longbottoms, or her parents dead?
"I know you hate those words, Minerva," said Albus. He tried to draw her into an embrace, but she shrugged out his grip. "Young Harry isn't the only person affected by loss in this war. There are others who have paid for tonight's victory in blood. But many more will suffer in the future if we don't end it all tonight."
Sirius snarled. "Headmaster, this is insanity. You can't think to protect that snake. Snape was there tonight. He hates...hated James and Lily; he probably helped." He started pacing in front of the fire. "I can't believe you. I never should have brought Harry here."
"Ah yes, Monsieur Black," Avice said, taunting just a little. "Where would you have taken him, eh? Do you have the expertise to brew the potion that will wake le petit garçon?"
"No, but I have the expertise," he spat, "to put you and your precious Snivellus in the ground."
Hubert stepped between Sirius and Avice. He looked down at Sirius, imposing both his bulk and his will on the bristling younger man. His voice was gentle.
"If you love the boy, you will let her help him," he murmured.
Sirius snarled. "Don't dare talk to me about love or tell me what to do. You don't know anything about us or what we've been through. Besides, how do I know that she isn't one of them?"
"You have to trust someone, Monsieur Black," Hubert said. "Right now you are standing between the boy and the one person who can help him."
Sirius sneered. "What are you? The president of her fan club?"
"Non," Hubert chuckled.
Minerva placed a hand on Sirius' arm. He looked down at her and she saw the scared eleven-year-old boy deep within his eyes. It pained her. For all his rage and bluster, she could see that he was a man barely holding on.
"I trust them," she said. Sirius gave a rough shake of his head. She guessed it was impossible for him to trust anyone tonight.
"I don't like this situation anymore than you do," she continued, anxious to just him keep talking, anything to calm him down. "But they can help Harry. They are the only ones who can."
"Do you really trust them?" he asked finally. "Do you trust them with Harry's life?"
"Yes, I do." She watched Sirius' shoulders sag. Then with a nod he slowly walked out of the room to the bedroom where Harry lay sleeping. He closed the door softly behind him.
The four remaining people stood in deafening silence. Albus moved toward Minerva but she angrily shook her head and turned her back on him.
"Perhaps, Monsieur," Hubert's voice broke the tension, "you'd best tend to the boy in the next room and send la Duchesse to her nephew. The potion will require both of them."
Minerva turned in surprise to the Frenchman.
"You dispute the truth?" Hubert asked her. Minerva shrugged.
"Where is my nephew?" asked Avice. "We need to get started."
"He's in my office," replied Albus. He looked confusedly between his deputy and the stoic Frenchman.
Avice rounded on Albus. "You left him in there alone? Really, Albus, not thinking again? Take me to him!"
Avice's impervious commands snapped Albus back to the present. He looked sorrowfully at the Duchesse.
"I am afraid you'll find him much changed," Albus told her.
"You let me worry about that," she returned sharply. "First, let us help le petit garçon. Perhaps a separate set of rooms for the child and his guardian?"
"Yes, yes," Albus agreed. "Minerva, will you show Sirius and young Harry to the suite by my office?"
"Yes, Albus." Minerva's eyes darted to Hubert, who had settled himself in one of the wing chairs.
"Excellent," said the Duchesse. "Come along, Albus." She took Dumbledore's elbow and led him to the door.
When the door closed behind them, Minerva let out a ragged breath. She rubbed her shoulder and tried to fight back the pounding in her head.
"You cannot continue to carry all the burdens of this war on your shoulders," Hubert said from his position in the chair.
She spun on him. "Why not? Look at what's happened tonight. The Potters were students of mine. They were good people." Minerva's voice broke. "They were my friends." Hubert started to rise from his seat, but a sharp gesture from Minerva stopped him. "And those two," she threw at the door, "act as if this is nothing but a game."
"Non, they do not," Hubert corrected her, his voice suddenly hard. "Avice grieves for her niece and nephew."
"Grieve for Snape?!" Minerva crossed her arms over her chest disapprovingly. "Avice shouldn't waste an ounce of grief on the likes of him."
Hubert stood up and walked to where she stood. He looked down at her sadly, and suddenly Minerva could smell him, the musky scent of cloves, spice, and leather. If she closed her eyes, she wondered, could she remember their time together in Paris? How it felt to be in his arms, safe and secure? But the world had turned since then. There was no going back.
So caught up was she in her memories that she didn't realize he'd begun talking again. "We can never know what drives a man down a certain path."
Minerva shook her head, unable and unwilling to have this discussion now. "I can't..." she stopped and looked past Hubert to the door of her bedroom. "I have to take care of them." She walked away, stopping to throw one last remark over her shoulder. "You can wait here for me, or follow your mistress and Albus. It matters not to me."
+++++
Minverva came back into her rooms, shut the door, and leaned wearily against the dark wood.
"They are settled then?" Hubert's voice was quiet. "Come and sit by the fire."
Her eyes shot open. "You're still here?"
"I am where I should be," he answered. "La Duchesse is seeing to her grand-nephew, and then she will brew the potion."
"You don't have to baby-sit me," she said as she sat heavily on the sofa in front of the fire.
"I am not babysitting, as you call it." He rose and poured them each a measure of amber liquor. "I am here because I wish to be, and because I would not wish you to remain angry."
Minerva considered his words and sipped her scotch.
Hubert slipped off his grey wool tabard and tugged off his boots. He rested his feet on the sturdy table in front of the sofa. One long arm snaked out to haul Minerva to his side.
"Oof," she chuffed. After a not even half-hearted attempt at stiff indignation, she relaxed into his warm strength.
"Did Avice know?" she asked.
Hubert looked down at her. The grey eyes, which had been opaque and stoic, glowed now with caring and regard.
"I believe she suspected when her niece, Annalise, sent her the deCrillion grimoire for safe keeping."
"Where is Snape's mother now?"
"Dead."
"Did he...?"
"His hand did not cast the curse."
"But how could he be involved?" She sat back from him. "How could Avice possibly forgive him?"
Hubert shrugged. "I do not know that she ever fully will. But her anger cannot stop what must be done tonight."
Minerva shook her head. "You sound just like them. It doesn't matter what happens, who dies, we have to carry on as if nothing happened. We're just supposed to forget."
Hubert stared into the fire. "Cherie, it is you who are forgetting. Not Albus and Avice."
Minerva glared at him. "What do you mean?"
He turned to look at her. "You focus on their deaths and forget their lives, and what they were fighting for. What would James and Lily Potter want from us tonight?"
"They would want us to help Harry and keep him safe."
Hubert nodded. "Annalise deCrillon Snape and Lily Potter were very much alike. They both faced an unspeakable evil to protect their sons. Should we dishonor their sacrifices by quitting?"
Minerva shook her head no, unable to speak.
"One day," Hubert continued, pulling Minerva closer and stroking her hair, "the war will be over. Then we will be able to sit down and mourn for all that we have lost. Until then, we must fight. We must trust." He put a finger under her chin and titled her face up to his. He traced her jaw and ran a rough thumb over her lips. "And we must live." Minerva closed her eyes and Hubert's lips grazed her own. She sank into him with a sigh.
They sat quietly before the fire watching the dance of the flame move in counterpoint to the sound of the rain driving against the leaded glass windows.
Minerva finally stirred and stretched.
"I don't want to presume anything," she said quietly.
Hubert looked at her with amusement. "Come, mon coeur, let's to bed," he growled and caught her up in an embrace.
+++++
The next morning, Minerva walked past one of the many enclosed courtyards on the way to Albus' office. This particular garden would have been planted with medicinal herbs and flowers, but they had long since died with the passing of summer into autumn. A few asters bloomed valiantly against the chill of the November morning, but they did nothing to cheer the figure that paced back and forth along the crushed shell pathways. Minerva, distracted from her route to Albus' office, stopped to enter the courtyard.
Avice turned into the middle of the garden and to sit beside Minerva on the stone bench.
"He's lost," Avice said. "Gone from me. Tabby, I don't know what to do. There's so much anger and hatred."
"What has he said?"
"That his mother deserved her death, that his father was a good for nothing bastard, that I had abandoned them." Avice wrung her hands. "He wants nothing of me."
"I suspect that's anger at himself," replied Minerva.
"But how do I reach him? Perhaps I did abandon them," Avice whispered, head bowed, voice rough with emotion. "Do I even try to save him? After all he did...my niece...the last of my family...his mother..."
Minerva thought back to her conversation with Hubert and slowly the words came. "What would Annalise ask of you?"
Avice sat straight up, her hands falling in her lap. "She would demand," she said with a sad smile, "that I save her son."
Minerva smiled in return. "Then save him."
Avice's hand reached out and grabbed Minerva's hand. "Oh, Tabby. I am sorry for what you lost."
"And I'm sorry for your niece. I'm sorry for all we've lost in this damned war. Eleven years..." her voice trailed off, the images of family, friends, and former students lost suddenly in front of her eyes. "End this, Avice. You and Albus, do what you must to end this once and for all."
"I knew you would come around..."Avice started. Minerva shook her head.
"No, I do not like it, will never understand how you and Albus can play these games, but I ...recognize that it must be this way." The two women were silent for a moment, then Minerva stirred.
"How is young Harry?" she asked.
"He is resting. He will bear that scar for the rest of his life," Avice answered. She sounded exhausted. "Albus is arranging for the boy's accommodations with his Muggle relatives."
"He's going to send Harry to them?" Minerva asked. "They're horrid."
"Horrid or no, they are his family," Avice said and shrugged. "Of Voldemort there is no sign."
"What do you mean? No sign?"
"Severus says he's gone, just gone, no body, nothing," replied Avice. "Albus has gone to investigate, what is it called? Godrich Hollow? He was hoping you could keep a watch on the Muggles. The news of Voldemort's demise may draw attention to them."
"And what of Severus?"
"Yes, what of Snape?" said a hard voice from the edge of the garden. The two women turned to see Sirius Black standing there, looking worse than he did the night before. Avice merely sighed, but Minerva moved toward him.
"Sirius, how are you?"
"How am I?" he asked. "Let me tell you how I am. I just spent an hour being interrogated by Albus Dumbledore."
"Interrogated?" Minerva asked, a sinking feeling suddenly growing in her stomach.
"Oh, yes," Sirius sneered. "It seems our Headmaster had a few questions he had to ask, questions about me, about the Fidelius Charm James and I performed. Dumbledore blames me for James and Lily's deaths."
"Sirius, no..." Minerva began, doubt creeping into her voice.
"I think," Avice said from her position on the bench, "that it is not so much Dumbledore's feelings that bother you...but your own guilt. You blame yourself for their deaths."
Sirius turned toward her. "Shut up! This doesn't concern you."
"This doesn't concern me?" Avice asked jumping up. "I've lost plenty in this dirty war too. Who was it that gave your godson back to you? Are you even worried about him?"
"I'm warning you..." Sirius started, but Minerva had had enough.
"How dare you come here to rage against us?" she asked, voice quaking. "Avice saved Harry's life. You owe her your respect and gratitude."
"I'll be damned if I owe them anything! She's part of Snape's family—Snape the Death Eater, Snape the murderer, Snape who everyone is so worried about..."
Minerva reached out a hand. "We're worried about you too. I'm worried about you."
"Save your worry, Minerva. I thought you were on my side last night. I thought you understood."
"I do understand your anger and pain," Minerva said, "but this doesn't help anything."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Minerva, if my attitude is inconvenient right now. I just finished sitting in Dumbledore's office, like a scared little schoolboy, and listened to him try to lay the blame of my best friend's death at my door. Who knows? Perhaps he's right."
"Sirius, no..." Minerva interrupted.
"Meanwhile, everyone is worried about poor Severus. How can we help him? Help him?! I say we help him to Azkaban. I say leave me alone with him for five minutes and no one will need worry about him again! But no. Dumbledore says he's too valuable. We must save Severus," Sirius growled out.
Minerva looked at the husk of the man in front of her. This was not the Sirius Black she knew. Her foreboding from the night before came rushing back, and Minerva was afraid.
"What can I do to ease your pain?" she asked, reaching out a hand and cupping his face. His muscles twitched under her hand.
"Help me kill him," he said. "Her man protects him now." Minerva shook her head no. "He deserves to die, like James and Lily died."
"Perhaps, but I will not let you kill him." Sirius's eyes turned cold and he stepped away from her.
"Protect Snape from me?" he asked. "Kill me to protect him?"
"I'm not killing anyone today," she answered hotly, "but I will not let you hurt him."
"Why not?" Sirius paced furiously. "He's only a dirty blood-traitor."
"Even traitors have their uses," Avice answered. "Unlike faithless friends."
Sirius' face blanched. He looked down at McGonagall. "You're obviously no good to me, Professor. I appreciate your offer of help," he sneered, "but there are things I must attend to today."
"What things?" Avice asked. Minerva turned to look at her and noticed that the other woman's wand had been pulled down and was hid in the folds of her cloak.
Sirius Black smiled. "Oh, you'll hear all about them soon enough." He spun on his heel and left the garden.
"I am sorry, Tabby," said Avice. She clasped Minerva's shoulder. "I fear that one is on a singular path."
"Yes," sighed Minerva. "His family's rejection hurt more than he wants anyone to know."
"Ah," replied Avice. She turned her attention to a silver case in her pocket. Soon the aroma of clove-scented tobacco wafted around the courtyard.
"Are there any more of those, ma Tante?" The spun-silk of Severus Snape's voice was a hoarse whisper.
The two women turned to regard the ill-used form hovering at the entrance to the Courtyard.
"I'm glad to see you up and about," said Avice. "Have you eaten?" She pulled another cigarette from her case and lit it.
Snape shook his head. "This is for you, Professor McGonagall." He held out a scroll, and took the proffered cigarette. He inhaled and coughed harshly.
Minerva stood and took the scroll from his thin hand. She looked at him for a moment, distaste actually mingling with the first semblances of pity in her heart. It was hard to reconcile the shell of the man in front of her with the star student from long ago. Suddenly the urge to ask him why filled her, to demand answers to how he could have turned his back on all of them to fight side by side with a monster, to ask him if he slept at night, if the blood on his hands haunted his steps. She looked at his forearm, his rough tunic covering the Dark Mark she knew was branded into his arm, and suddenly she felt very tired and very sad. They had all lost much during this war.
She slowly started to unroll the scroll, hand absently moving up into her hair to push the thin black frames across her nose. She read the short note in Albus's distinctive hand and gasped.
"He can't..." she started.
"He wouldn't..." she said after a moment, then sat down hard on the bench. She knew that Avice and Severus were looking at her but she couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence.
"Tabby, are you well?" Avice asked her, bending down to touch the other woman's shoulder.
"Albus has lost his mind," Minerva managed, then looking up at Snape she demanded, "Do you know what this says?" She brandished the scroll like a weapon. Snape shook his head no, his eyes scared and furtive, as if looking for ways to escape the attack of a madwoman.
"Tabby, please," Avice murmured. "What is wrong?"
"Albus wants to make your nephew head of Slytherin House and our new Potions Master." Avice stood up with a frown, and both women turned to look at Severus. He stood there dumbfounded, becoming even paler, if possible, with the news.
"Damn him!" Snape finally growled.
Avice threw back her head and laughed. "Non, mon neveu, you'll not escape that easily," she chortled. "C'est parfait!"
Snape flushed, a shocking red against the greenish-yellow of his pallor.
"He is a wily one, your Headmaster," continued the Duchesse. "You will have to atone and live." She looked lovingly at her nephew.
Minerva suddenly felt light-headed. It was, she supposed, a fitting punishment. The anti-social and depressed Slytherin would be forced to cope with heart-sick young girls and the pranks of hormonal boys during the day, while serving as the perfect spy for Dumbledore at night. She looked to Avice, herself a former double agent during the war with Grindelwald, and smiled. He could be quite valuable to the Order. And, it should provide grand theatre as well.
"Ducks," she said, "I believe you're quite correct. It is perfect."
Snape cringed. "But, it's not," he whinged.
Minerva waved his half-voiced complaint away. "You'll come to tea this evening," she ordered the newest Head of House.
Snape nodded, too cowed under the regard of the two women.
"And now, I'll show you to your new quarters," she said taking his arm. "Ducks, do you want to come?"
"I would love to accompany you, but alas, I have an appointment elsewhere," she replied.
Minerva nodded and smiled to Hubert standing at the entrance to the courtyard. He returned the nod and the smile. She wanted to say something to him, but unsure what, and pressed for time, she turned briskly on her heel and led Severus to his new quarters.
+++++
Hours later—Minerva was too shaken to even figure out how many—she found herself back into her rooms in Gryffindor Tower. They held no peace for her tonight.
I failed him, she kept thinking, an unsteady hand reaching for the fire whiskey in front of her. I failed him.
After having shown a glowering Severus Snape to his room, and dispatching a confused but amiable Professor Flitwick to help get him moved in and acquainted with his new duties, Minerva had followed Albus's instructions and headed to 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. There she found the most disagreeable couple in the most disagreeable neighborhood. What could Albus be thinking, leaving Harry with these people? she wondered, fighting feline instincts to turn tail and stalk off, or just lay down on the hot wall and take a long nap. She hadn't slept much the night before.
But leave the sleeping baby they had, and then she and Albus and Hagrid had headed back toward Hogwarts. Minerva had looked forward to a chance to speak with Hubert and Avice, but most of all she longed to take a long hot bath. It wasn't to be.
Sirius Black had gone mad, the frightened staff had told them as they entered the Great Hall. He had killed his old friend Peter Pettigrew and 12 Muggles before he was brought down, hysterical and quite insane, by a group of Aurors. He was to be sent to Azkaban Prison tonight. The staff was whispering he'd been working with Voldemort, had sold the Potters to him.
Grim-lipped, Albus had left Minerva for the Ministry. Shell-shocked and bone weary, she'd headed back to her rooms. Avice and Hubert had left Hogwarts during the day, she discovered. On the table in front of her were notes from the two of them, but she was too tired to look at them. She fingered the note from Hubert as she sipped her whiskey. It would, she was sure, bring her some small comfort, a smile perhaps. But she couldn't read it tonight. It didn't seem right.
A hesitant knock at the door caused her to look up and glare at the interruption.
"Enter," she barked. The door slowly opened and Severus Snape—now clean-shaven and dressed in severe black robes—stood nervously in the hallway. Minerva's eyes narrowed. She could hear Sirius's voice in her head.
"...leave me alone with him for five minutes and no one will need worry about him again...send him to Azkaban...help me kill him." But tonight Sirius Black sat in Azkaban not Severus Snape, and for the life of her, Minerva couldn't figure out if she felt that was right, or wrong.
And then she could hear Avice's laugh from early this morning, a laugh of hope and new beginnings. "You will have to atone and live," she had told him. Perhaps Avice was right. Perhaps that was the hardest thing any of them would have to do.
"Excuse me, Professor. I came by earlier, but you were out," he said in a low voice.
Tea, that's right, she'd told him to come for tea. She looked around at the shambles of her room, at the bottle of whiskey in front of her and gave a sad smile. We've lost so much to this damn war, she thought. It was time to end it.
"Come in and join me, Severus. Perhaps I can find some tea to go along with the whiskey."