dueltastic

Title: Circumstances of a Small and Accidental Nature (Chapter 6 of 8)
Author: dueltastic
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Minerva McGonagall/Severus Snape, cast of thousands




Chapter 6: Severus McGonagall Gets His Hands and Knees Dirty

On one particularly fine and sunny afternoon in late spring, when Sev was six, he found, quite by accident, the perfect place to play. He was up in an apple tree when he first saw it.

"Come on, Mummy," he said, sliding down the tree trunk and waiting at the bottom for the small grey tabby cat in the branches to scramble down after him. He started off across the field, with the cat following behind him. Sev crossed a small brook on a fallen log, his arms out for balance. The cat bounded quickly behind him, tail up and sure-footed.


If Snape were a man more prone to gentle humour, a man of Filius's temperament perhaps, he might express amusement at the coincidence of leaving a double-session of sixth years for a double-session of watching his own six-year-old, perhaps with a side observation in a sage tone about how fast children grow, but he was not such a man. He was not given to flights of fancy at the best of times, and certainly not with a stack of essays to grade. Perhaps, he thought, he could send the boy outside to play. He knew he'd been sent out to play at that age, but was uncertain, in retrospect, where that fell on spectrum from parental neglect on the one end to teaching responsibility on the other. Still, he suspected there must be measures that reasonable parents of small-but-active children could take to eject them into the wilds while they got an hour of marking done. Filius might know.

In the Head's office, he was faced with a more immediate problem: its utter emptiness meant there was no child to mind, and no Minerva to relieve. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he muttered. "All right," he said to the assembled portraits, "where are they?"

"Out," said Phineas Nigellus sourly.

"Obviously," said Snape.

"They've gone out to play," said Armando Dippet. Phineas Nigellus muttered something under his breath.

"Don't be unkind, Phineas. All work and no play and all that," said Dumbledore from off to the left.

"It's precisely that sort of thinking that got you exiled to the leftmost end of the top row, my man," said Phineas Nigellus.

"No, Phineas, what got me exiled up here was a somewhat cavalier attitude to the means that were justified by my ends," said Dumbledore. "Minerva is so delightfully uncompromising."

"As enjoyable as this sore subject is," said Snape in a bored tone, "I am still waiting for a proper answer."

"My dear boy," said Phineas Nigellus, "you've had one. They've gone out to play. If you were under the impression that they've submitted a written itinerary that we're holding back, you're sadly mistaken."

Snape turned in a swirl of black and left without a word.

At the bottom of the stone staircase, he activated the locator spell on the boy and followed the trail behind the castle, past the formal gardens, to the orchards, across a field and over a brook, where he was brought up short by the indications that the boy had apparently gone through a solid mass of overgrown hedge. He could even hear the boy. A short inspection indicated a hole at the bottom of the hedge just about large enough for a small boy to squeeze through, if he didn't mind getting scratches.

Snape, who did mind getting scratches and was not a small boy, stood there stonily for a moment with his arms folded, and then slowly dissolved into wisps of smoke until, in a swirling black cloud, he burst through the hedge and coalesced on the other side into the shape of a man.

What he found on the other side was an overgrown patch of abandoned garden, surrounded by walls of hedges and stone, overrun with brambles and grasses and vines. His son was under a small willow tree, dragging a large stick while singing the first verse and chorus of "I Turned My Brother Into a Mouse" from the Wizarding Wireless Network's children's programme over and over again. Overlooking the boy, on top of a stone retaining wall, was a grey tabby cat, sitting alert and sphinx-like on its paws. Snape sat down beside it.

"So that's how you followed the grubby little urchin through the hedge," he said. "I should have known."

The cat stood, and sat back down as a woman with black hair, rectangular glasses, and a green robe. "That was a rather impressive entrance," said Minerva. "I take it you'll be including that as a chapter in 'Parenting Tips For Former Death Eaters'?"

Sev, hearing voices, looked up. "Daddy!" he yelled, waving his stick, not waiting for Snape's awkward acknowledgement to go back to his stick-dragging. He marched around in a circle while chanting "Daddy" in a sing-song voice.

Snape snorted. "What on earth possessed you to spend your afternoon traipsing after him as a cat?" he said.

"I'm seventy-nine years old, Severus, and as Head of Hogwarts must maintain a certain level of dignity," said McGonagall, smoothing out her robes. "Which means I certainly cannot traipse about and climb trees in my present form. But if you believe I'm going to forgo climbing trees with my son, you're quite mistaken. He's my grubby little urchin, and I'll spend my afternoons with him any way I please."

Down by the tree, Sev threw a rock into the air to watch the path it took back down to the ground.



His parents arranged tutoring for Sev, but by the following year it had become an irregular sort of thing, as they realized that an inquisitive boy growing up in a school with bookish parents (and a dozen teachers for family) was not lacking for lessons.

"Hullo, Auntie Pomona," said Sev, running his hand distractedly along the side of the raised bed in the seedling greenhouse as he wandered along the main path.

Professor Sprout, on her knees next to the main bed of monkshood seedlings, leaned up and brushed the dirt from her hands. "Hello, dear," she said with a beaming smile. "You're to spend the day with us, are you?"

Sev nodded. "While Mummy and Daddy are out," he said, reaching down to scratch his knee under the hem of his short trousers. "They went to London. But not to the Ministry." He looked over the edge of the raised bed to see what was in it, and levered himself up onto the wood planks along the sides. "Daddy said Mummy had to see the outside world sometimes."

"I'm sure he's right, dear," said Sprout, trying not to laugh. "Well, we'll have a lovely time, won't we? We'll have the entire day to ourselves. Neville - that is, Mr. Longbottom - and I are so pleased to have you. Neville, dear," she called, "little Severus is here."

Neville poked his head out of the potting shed, with the faint look of residual worry that tended to result from the words 'Severus is here'. "Oh, hullo, Sev!" he said, waving a trowel in greeting.

"Hullo, Mr. Longbottom," said Sev dutifully, dropping down onto the path again.

Neville brought out a tray of seedlings. "Where would you like these, Professor?" he said.

Pomona inspected them. "Oh, lovely," she said. "What about right here, by Sev?" She patted the side of the raised bed. "He can help us plant them, can't you, Sev darling?"

"Yes, Auntie Pomona," said Sev, and he scratched his head, his black hair flopping around messily. He climbed back up onto the side of the raised bed.

"Now, you'll want some gloves..." said Sprout, looking around. Neville put the tray down to take a pair of gloves out of his back pocket to give to Sev, as Sev reached for the seedlings. "Oh, be careful, dear!" she said. "They're fanged geranium seedlings. They're quite small, but they can still give you a bit of a nip. Here." She put Neville's gloves onto Sev, and took out her wand to make them smaller.

Neville smiled encouragingly at Sev, and dug a hole in the dirt with the trowel. "Right in there," he said. "Be gentle with it, like."

Sev lifted a geranium seedling out of the tray, and placed it into the hole. The geranium swayed as he moved it, sinking its tiny teeth into the thick gardening gloves repeatedly. "It's biting!" said Sev excitedly.

"Yes, dear," said Pomona with a smile. "They do, you know."

"Yes," said Sev, peering at it.

Neville tamped the soil around the base of the seedling gently, then yanked his hand away suddenly, sucking in his breath through his teeth.

"Oh, did it bite you, dear?" said Professor Sprout.

"Just a scratch," said Neville, with an apologetic smile. "Wasn't quick enough."

"Will you get a scar?" said Sev, craning his neck to see Neville's exciting geranium bite.

"No, you needn't worry," said Neville kindly. "I've some salve. I'll put it on later. Shall we do the next one?" He dug another hole next to the first, and Sev got another seedling from the tray.

"My father has scars," said Sev, placing the seedling in the new hole. "He got bit, too."

"Er," said Neville, tamping down the soil as he tried to think of the right response to that, and coming up with, "Is that so?"

Sev leaned on his forearms, kicking his feet at the air. "Mummy said a snake bit him." He dropped down to the ground again. "It must have been a very big snake," said Sev, looking thoughtful.

"Really, dear?" said Pomona, looking over Sev's head at Neville. "Why do you think that?"

Sev looked up. "Because it made a big bite mark," he said, as though he thought her somewhat slow.

"Now that you mention it, I do remember a very large snake," said Pomona. "Don't you, Neville?"

"Er, yes!" said Neville. "That is..." He looked down at Sev, who was looking back wide-eyed and swinging off the edge of the raised bed. "Large-ish, anyway. Sort of large."

"That must have been the one, dear. Neville - that is, Mr. Longbottom, he killed it, you know," said Pomona, ruffling Sev's tangle of dark hair. "After it bit your father."

"Did you?" said Sev.

"Er, a bit," said Neville. "Yes. I did, actually."

"Did it bite you?" said Sev, suddenly finding Neville's neck quite fascinating.

"No," said Neville, digging another hole in the dirt. "It was... well, it was a... a bad snake."

"I know that," said Sev. "Mummy told me it was a very bad snake. When I was little," he added, being too grown-up at seven for such explanations.

"Well, it was rather a bad snake," said Pomona. "Another geranium, dear, Neville is ready for you." Sev leaned forward and pulled out another seedling.

"Not all snakes are bad, you know," said Neville, as Sev planted the geranium. "Some are quite useful, like. In the garden and things."

"I know," said Sev, trying to detach the geranium's teeth from his glove. "Uncle Horace tells me that lots. But I don't think he means snake snakes."



"Of course, if it rains, we'll have to move it into the Great Hall," said McGonagall, shortly before the second of May, 2008.

"We can't cancel it in that case?" said Snape wearily.

"I'm afraid not, more's the pity," said McGonagall.

"Has it never occurred to you what a dreadful irony it is making us, of all people, organize these damn things?" said Snape. "The sad fact is that trying to kill each other was one of the safest and least traumatic things we each did that night."

"No, Severus," said McGonagall. "It has never occurred to me, because I lack all sense of irony. Of course it has. Don't be absurd."


That weekend, Sev waited eagerly for Teddy to arrive. There was some Ministry event at Hogwarts that his parents and Teddy's grandmother were attending, which meant he and Teddy could play for hours, almost anywhere they wanted. But before Mrs. Tonks arrived with Teddy, a lot of other people streamed in, all in black dress robes. Mr. Potter spotted him behind the curtain and left Mrs. Potter waiting in the entrance to come speak to him.

"Hello, Severus," said Mr. Potter, crouching down to speak to him.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," said Sev, hanging onto the curtain.

"It's a big day today, isn't it," said Mr. Potter, glancing back at the crowd of people.

"Yes, sir," said Sev, mostly out of politeness, because he knew Mr. Potter meant the boring Ministry event, and not anything remotely as interesting as an entire afternoon with Teddy.

"I just want you to know," said Mr. Potter, "your father, he was a real hero, he was--"

"Mister Potter..." said Snape from above them, rolling the words around slowly and silkily.

Harry Potter stood up. "Hello, sir. I was just telling Sev here that you--"

"Clear off, Potter," interrupted Snape, putting his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Sir," said Harry, "I just..."

"I know. He doesn't need to hear that nonsense. Now get out," said Snape, pointing back at Ginny Potter.

Sev felt a little bad for Mr. Potter, because he was nice, but sometimes his father just didn't like people, even when they liked him, although they usually didn't in that case. His mother liked Mr. Potter a great deal, though, and so did most people, so it probably evened out.


Sev and Teddy sat on the steps near the front courtyard eating toffee after everyone went down to Uncle Albus's grave.

"I'll get my letter next year," said Teddy. "I'll be here the year after that. But Gran says they probably won't let me play with you when I come to Hogwarts."

Sev shook his head. "But I'll be a student the year after that, then maybe we can." He unwrapped another toffee and stuck it in his mouth. "What do you want to do?"

"Don't know," said Teddy. "We could ride the stairs."

"There's a statue on the seventh floor we could climb," said Sev. "Or we could go to the dungeon."

"We don't have a dungeon at my house," said Teddy, looking interested.

"It's dark, but my dad used to live there," said Sev. "He says it's not scary. Uncle Horace did, too."

"Why, hello, boys," said a woman standing behind them. Teddy and Sev turned and saw a pretty blonde woman with curls and purple robes. She smiled broadly at them.

"Hello," said Teddy.

"I was wondering if you boys could help me," she said, leaning down. Sev could see down the front of her robes when she did that, and when he glanced over at Teddy, he could see Teddy had seen, too.

"Maybe?" said Sev uncertainly.

"My name is Rita," said the woman, smiling wider and shaking her curls a little. "I have a few questions. Easy ones for clever boys like you two, I'm sure."

Sev glanced nervously at Teddy again.

A throat cleared above them, and a dark shape appeared behind Rita. "This is just my day for finding troublemakers lurking," said Snape in a slow drawl. "Miss Skeeter, I believe we have already discussed the consequences of your approaching my son. On several occasions."

The blond woman frowned and straightened, turning to confront Snape.

Snape raised a hand to stop her before she spoke. "As I said the last time, I do have quite a few... friends, who still owe me favours."

"And, should you check your sources, you will find that to be entirely true," said one of the two blond men who had appeared noiselessly behind Snape. He moved his cane to the crook of his right elbow and smiled at Rita Skeeter. "Severus is an extraordinary man, and has been a great friend to my family - you may quote me on that, by the way." The younger of the two blond men folded his arms. Sev looked over at Teddy and saw that he had recognized Mr. Malfoy, too.

Snape's eyes glittered black, and he smiled an unpleasant smile.

Lucius Malfoy continued. "A great friend. We owe him, oh, a considerable amount. And we have... a close bond, going back quite a long time now." He tapped his left arm with his cane discreetly, and smiled again. "That's off the record, naturally, but should you print it anyway, you'll find it's quite common knowledge. So you see, Miss Skeeter, while it's well-known that I am a great supporter of a free press, I must draw the line at nine-year-old boys being hounded - unintentionally on your part, no doubt - simply for the misfortune of being the sons of famous men. Young Severus and his little playmate--" Malfoy's face changed in recognition. "--why, this is my nephew Theodore, isn't it? Goodness, Miss Skeeter, my wife's nephew, Severus's son... yes, I take this quite personally indeed."

The younger blond man -- Sev thought his father had once called him Draco -- knelt down by Sev and Teddy and put a hand on their shoulders. "You two should go off and play," he whispered. "You don't need to stay for this. It's too nice a day to wait around on adults talking."

"We were going to the dungeon," whispered Teddy.

"You should do that," whispered Draco. "There's a secret passage, by the painting of Ulfrida the Prolific. Go on. Maybe we'll see you and Aunt Andromeda later, Teddy." He gave them a little push. Sev looked back at his dad, who gave him a reassuring little nod and turned back to Miss Skeeter.

Sev and Teddy ran off inside the castle, then slowed down to stroll to the stairs.

"Mr. Malfoy is your uncle?" said Sev.

Teddy shrugged. "I think so. I've only met him once, I think. But I've met Draco a few times, and Aunt Narcissa lots. They're your dad's friends?"

"I'm not sure," said Sev. "Sort of. Yes, I think, but not his good friends. He doesn't tell them secrets and things."

"That makes sense," said Teddy, who wasn't sure he would, either. "Your dad is kind of scary when he's angry."

"He's not scary," said Sev. "He just looked pleased. That's how he looks when he's pleased."

"I guess," said Teddy dubiously. "I don't think he liked that woman."

"She was odd," said Sev. "You could see all down her robes! Like she was trying to show us her tits."

"Yeah, that was dead strange," Teddy, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "Do you have more toffees?"

Sev checked his pockets. "No. Do you?" he said.

"No. I'm hungry. Do you think there's food?" said Teddy.

"We can go to the kitchen," said Sev. "And ask the elves. It's in the dungeon, too. There might be something that's not for the party." The two boys shuffled down the stairs to tickle the pear in front of the kitchens.


Minerva dropped onto the sofa. "Thank Merlin that's over for another five years," she said.

"It was miserable," said Snape with a glower aimed at Dumbledore's conveniently sleeping portrait.

"I wouldn't go quite that far, but I can think of more productive things to do with my time," said Minerva. "I suppose I ought to view it as more of an educational opportunity, but I truly cannot find it in me."

"Next time, I shall simply refuse to go," said Snape sitting in the chair across from her.

Minerva fiddled with her wand. "I suppose we ought to take the opportunity to talk to Sev about... well, to have the talk."

Snape snorted. "And how, precisely, shall we go about that one?" he said. "'Sometimes when a mummy is very glad a daddy wasn't killed by a giant snake...'"

"Not that talk, you dolt," said Minerva, amused. "I had Poppy do that years ago. I meant the war."

"Must we?" said Snape, sitting back in his chair tiredly.

"I'm afraid so," said McGonagall. "We'll have to tell him before he starts school, or heaven knows what stories he'll hear from the other children."


On to Chapter 7.