Fic: A Month is Nothing
Title: A Month is Nothing
Author: dexstarr
Word Count: 1,092
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Written for kellychambliss for rarepair_shorts's Summer 2011 Wishlist Event. Prompts: one month after the Battle of Hogwarts, unintentional voyeurism
Characters: Minerva McGonagall/Severus Snape (hinted), Minerva McGonagall/Poppy Pomfrey (hinted)
Warnings: Nothing fun, just lots of hinting.
Author's Note: I doubt this is what you were looking for Kelly, but it's what came out. I hope I did Minerva justice, and that it isn't squicky. Unbeta'ed, hopefully there aren't too many mistakes.
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR and are not mine.
Summary: She sees him everywhere, like a ghost haunting the halls.
***
One month after the Battle of Hogwarts, and she still sees him everywhere.
Memories exist on every floor, in every room, around every corner.
Minerva takes care to avoid some places, as there are many things she does not wish to remember. The castle, in varying stages of repair, does not always make this easy. Sometimes she feels as if Hogwarts is forcing her to remember, to heal. Albus had always said the castle was a living thing, and these days she believes him.
One day, on her way to check the charms on a staircase by the Ravenclaw common room, she passes a pile of rubble. Bits and pieces are recognizable-an arm, a helmet-leftovers of the suit of armor that guarded the staircase for centuries before being destroyed.
This is the spot where she and Severus dueled-quickly, but a fight all the same-before he fled, flying to the side of his master. Minerva had called him a coward then, not knowing the truth.
Now she does, and she nods bitterly at the heap of stone before moving on.
She quickly tests the charms, safety spells that will protect students from falling if the staircase decides to move. The house-elves are quite capable; many are descendants of the elves that helped build Hogwarts, and the spells were passed down through the generations. Even so, they still prefer her to double-check their work, and she does not mind the request. Their help has sped up the repairs, and she is confident the castle will be ready by the start of term.
She desires that more than anything else. She needs the return to normalcy, to focus on her students and lessons, rather than worrying about if they will be alive at the end of the year.
After speaking with the house-elf in charge of construction, Minerva returns to her office. But before she reaches it, a niche at the end of the hallway catches her eye. Another memory floats into her mind, but this one inspires a small smile, and she leans against the wall to remember.
*
She rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand, closing the door of her office with the other. It was late, but she was in mood for a hot chocolate before bed. She could have asked an elf to bring her one, so she didn’t have to leave her quarters, but she needed a stretch after spending hours bent over essays.
A flash of white at the end of the hallway caught her eye. Pushing her spectacles back down for a better look, she saw two figures huddled in the niche where she liked to take naps in her Animagus form. The cozy recess was a perfect spot to laze about in the afternoon sunshine.
Frowning, she set off down the hall, intending to lecture the two and then send them to their common rooms. Ten-no, twenty points should do it. They were out after curfew, doing who knew what in one of her favorite hidey-holes.
As she neared, steps silent in her tartan slippers, she recognized the face of Severus Snape. The other student had his-or her-back to Minerva, but she would see who it was in another minute.
Then a bit off groan reached her ears. Inhaling sharply, she stopped mid-stride, realizing what was happening. She had interrupted enough students over the years, but she was surprised to come across this particular Slytherin in this particular fashion.
His hands were clutching the other student’s shoulders, his long, pale fingers stark against black robes. His lips were drawn together tightly, even more so than usual, in an attempt to say silent. The attempt was futile; another groan escaped his clenched mouth.
Fascinated in spite of herself, Minerva pressed her back against the wall, tapping her forehead to cast a Disillusionment Charm. She knew she should interrupt them and send them off to bed with an even sterner lecture, but something held her back.
It was over in another minute.
Severus’s face tensed and then relaxed, a sated look gracing his features. She blinked and the expression was gone, his lips and eyes narrowed in their customary sneer.
Her desire for a walk and hot chocolate forgotten, Minerva continued to hide as the two headed off, Severus waiting for the other student to depart before following himself.
Shaking her head, she retraced the few steps to her quarters, wondering when she had gone so soft.
*
“You’re even worse now,” she mutters to herself. There are a thousand other memories she could call to mind, but the one she prefers most is of something she never should have seen.
The emotional side of her says it is because that was one of the few times she saw Severus relax. That happened rarely when he was a student, and even more infrequently when he became a professor.
And you just liked thinking about it, her mind adds, and Minerva knows it is true. Whenever she had seen Severus’s lips pursed in annoyance, she couldn’t help but imagine drawing that reaction in a more pleasurable way. It was an idle fantasy-she never did anything with previous students-but an enjoyable image all the same. The thought of making Severus-strict, buttoned-up, always-in-control Severus-lose control was one that kept her warm once or twice when Poppy was stuck in the infirmary with a sick student.
Needless to say, she didn’t think about that at all during the last year. Not when Severus became Snape, a man she loathed for what he allowed to happen to her beloved Hogwarts and to innocent students.
“Enough of that,” she says firmly, attempting to push away memories-bad and good-with the strength of her voice.
Breathing deeply, she tries to center herself before entering her quarters. Poppy is waiting for her, probably with steaming bowls of potato soup and hot tea. Dinner is always warm and hearty on the days when she checks on the progress of repairs.
Poppy always did know how to comfort her, even in the smallest of ways.
As she pushes open the door, another image of Severus flashes through her mind. He had swept into her office countless times over Potter’s years at Hogwarts, words of derision for the boy fresh on his tongue every time.
Minerva sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. She tells herself that only a month has passed, and the constant flood of memories will cease eventually.
It has only been a month.
A month is nothing.
*
***
Author: dexstarr
Word Count: 1,092
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Written for kellychambliss for rarepair_shorts's Summer 2011 Wishlist Event. Prompts: one month after the Battle of Hogwarts, unintentional voyeurism
Characters: Minerva McGonagall/Severus Snape (hinted), Minerva McGonagall/Poppy Pomfrey (hinted)
Warnings: Nothing fun, just lots of hinting.
Author's Note: I doubt this is what you were looking for Kelly, but it's what came out. I hope I did Minerva justice, and that it isn't squicky. Unbeta'ed, hopefully there aren't too many mistakes.
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR and are not mine.
Summary: She sees him everywhere, like a ghost haunting the halls.
***
One month after the Battle of Hogwarts, and she still sees him everywhere.
Memories exist on every floor, in every room, around every corner.
Minerva takes care to avoid some places, as there are many things she does not wish to remember. The castle, in varying stages of repair, does not always make this easy. Sometimes she feels as if Hogwarts is forcing her to remember, to heal. Albus had always said the castle was a living thing, and these days she believes him.
One day, on her way to check the charms on a staircase by the Ravenclaw common room, she passes a pile of rubble. Bits and pieces are recognizable-an arm, a helmet-leftovers of the suit of armor that guarded the staircase for centuries before being destroyed.
This is the spot where she and Severus dueled-quickly, but a fight all the same-before he fled, flying to the side of his master. Minerva had called him a coward then, not knowing the truth.
Now she does, and she nods bitterly at the heap of stone before moving on.
She quickly tests the charms, safety spells that will protect students from falling if the staircase decides to move. The house-elves are quite capable; many are descendants of the elves that helped build Hogwarts, and the spells were passed down through the generations. Even so, they still prefer her to double-check their work, and she does not mind the request. Their help has sped up the repairs, and she is confident the castle will be ready by the start of term.
She desires that more than anything else. She needs the return to normalcy, to focus on her students and lessons, rather than worrying about if they will be alive at the end of the year.
After speaking with the house-elf in charge of construction, Minerva returns to her office. But before she reaches it, a niche at the end of the hallway catches her eye. Another memory floats into her mind, but this one inspires a small smile, and she leans against the wall to remember.
*
She rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand, closing the door of her office with the other. It was late, but she was in mood for a hot chocolate before bed. She could have asked an elf to bring her one, so she didn’t have to leave her quarters, but she needed a stretch after spending hours bent over essays.
A flash of white at the end of the hallway caught her eye. Pushing her spectacles back down for a better look, she saw two figures huddled in the niche where she liked to take naps in her Animagus form. The cozy recess was a perfect spot to laze about in the afternoon sunshine.
Frowning, she set off down the hall, intending to lecture the two and then send them to their common rooms. Ten-no, twenty points should do it. They were out after curfew, doing who knew what in one of her favorite hidey-holes.
As she neared, steps silent in her tartan slippers, she recognized the face of Severus Snape. The other student had his-or her-back to Minerva, but she would see who it was in another minute.
Then a bit off groan reached her ears. Inhaling sharply, she stopped mid-stride, realizing what was happening. She had interrupted enough students over the years, but she was surprised to come across this particular Slytherin in this particular fashion.
His hands were clutching the other student’s shoulders, his long, pale fingers stark against black robes. His lips were drawn together tightly, even more so than usual, in an attempt to say silent. The attempt was futile; another groan escaped his clenched mouth.
Fascinated in spite of herself, Minerva pressed her back against the wall, tapping her forehead to cast a Disillusionment Charm. She knew she should interrupt them and send them off to bed with an even sterner lecture, but something held her back.
It was over in another minute.
Severus’s face tensed and then relaxed, a sated look gracing his features. She blinked and the expression was gone, his lips and eyes narrowed in their customary sneer.
Her desire for a walk and hot chocolate forgotten, Minerva continued to hide as the two headed off, Severus waiting for the other student to depart before following himself.
Shaking her head, she retraced the few steps to her quarters, wondering when she had gone so soft.
*
“You’re even worse now,” she mutters to herself. There are a thousand other memories she could call to mind, but the one she prefers most is of something she never should have seen.
The emotional side of her says it is because that was one of the few times she saw Severus relax. That happened rarely when he was a student, and even more infrequently when he became a professor.
And you just liked thinking about it, her mind adds, and Minerva knows it is true. Whenever she had seen Severus’s lips pursed in annoyance, she couldn’t help but imagine drawing that reaction in a more pleasurable way. It was an idle fantasy-she never did anything with previous students-but an enjoyable image all the same. The thought of making Severus-strict, buttoned-up, always-in-control Severus-lose control was one that kept her warm once or twice when Poppy was stuck in the infirmary with a sick student.
Needless to say, she didn’t think about that at all during the last year. Not when Severus became Snape, a man she loathed for what he allowed to happen to her beloved Hogwarts and to innocent students.
“Enough of that,” she says firmly, attempting to push away memories-bad and good-with the strength of her voice.
Breathing deeply, she tries to center herself before entering her quarters. Poppy is waiting for her, probably with steaming bowls of potato soup and hot tea. Dinner is always warm and hearty on the days when she checks on the progress of repairs.
Poppy always did know how to comfort her, even in the smallest of ways.
As she pushes open the door, another image of Severus flashes through her mind. He had swept into her office countless times over Potter’s years at Hogwarts, words of derision for the boy fresh on his tongue every time.
Minerva sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. She tells herself that only a month has passed, and the constant flood of memories will cease eventually.
It has only been a month.
A month is nothing.
*
***