Fire & Ice: War Games

‘Never forget what a man says to you when he is angry.’
Henry Ward Beecher (118871887)

The week passed surprisingly quickly for the small group of Slytherins. As the bell tolled through the castle, signaling the end of classes for the week. Professor McGonagall watched as the same group of Slytherins lingered in her classroom through the corners of her eyes. The Gryffindor witch patiently waited for her opportunity to corner one Slytherin in particular. Until they chose to leave, she would keep up the farce of marking papers.

“Who’s up for a visit to the Three Broomsticks? Butterbeers are on me.”

“Of course they are Nero, its your turn after all.”

“Rub salt in why don’t you, Illlanya.” He snorted before shouldering his pack.

“If she doesn’t, I will.” A ripple of laughter carried through the group as the shuffled towards the classroom door.

As the sallow skinned Slytherin reached the threshold, “a moment please Mr. Snape.”

Severus scowled in annoyance before turning to face the transfiguration’s professor. He waited patiently as the Gryffindor witch closed the heavy oak door with a quick flick of her wand. After McGonagall had cast her silencing charm, “yes Professor?” Severus raised his eyebrow slightly as he crossed his arms.

“Did you get a chance to read the book I lent you?” Professor McGonagall said taking off her glasses. Slipping them into a robe pocket, the witch raised her eyebrow.

“Intriguing to say the least, Professor. But I must admit that a number of Mr. Edwin’s theories regarding the curative usage of gorgon blood was...rather imaginative to say the least.” As he spoke, Severus ruffled through his book bag until his fingers closed around the book in question. Handing the large volume back to the witch, “Miss stone’s theories regarding the use of Aconite in curing the early stages of lycanthropy show promise.”

“Did my ears deceive me or did the future Potions Master, Severus Snape, compliment a Gryffindor? How I wish Professor Lung could’ve been here too!” The witch’s normal stern face softened in an amused smile.

“Surely Professor, you wouldn’t encourage a thousand year old house rivalry amongst your students?” Severus feigned a look of shock as his professor gapped like a fish at his teasing. He inwardly smirked as a light flush crept over her cheeks. “Besides I said that it was promising. But I do believe that Miss Stone was miss-sorted, if one can judge by words on paper.”

“Miss sorted how?” McGonagall said leaning against her desk.

“Clearly by her ambition, Professor. The first step should be able to retain the human mind during and after a transformation. The second step should be to lessen the pan and strain on the host body during a transformation.”

“It sounds to me, that you’ve had plenty of time to investigate Miss Stone’s theories.”

“Almost three years, if memory serves.” Severus’ eyes narrowed slightly as the night beneath the Whomping Willow flashed in his mind. Brushing the memory back quickly, “I’ve been experimenting over the summer. On a rather limited bases, of course.”

“Of course, Mr. Snape.” McGonagall nodded, wincing inwardly as the memory of that night returned to haunt her. Mentally shaking herself, McGonagall changed the subject quickly. “Have you had a chance to consider becoming an animagus?”

“A bit actually, Professor McGonagall.” Severus answered slowly, carefully choosing his words.

The Slytherin and Gryffindor quietly studied the other for what passed as an eternity before McGonagall broke the silence, “good day Mr. Snape.” The raven haired Slytherin nodded and hurried out into the hall. She stared at the spot where her student had stood. Had it been just a trick of the lighting or had there been a strange, knowing glint in those opal eyes? Sighing, McGonagall shook her head as she walked back around her desk and resumed correcting the pile of papers.

Dipping her quill in the ink pot, McGonagall paused as stared at the closed door. “Merlin, I wonder....” Her voice trailed off as the oak door swung open, “what do I owe the pleasure?”

“A bit of trouble with the Slytherins, Minerva?”

“Nonsense Albus, if anything the opposite.”

“Gryffindors are giving you trouble now?”

“Heavens no, Albus. Whatever gave you that impression?”

The wizard’s blue eyes twinkled behind his half moon glasses, “ran into Mr. Snape in the hall. Brooding as usual and mumbling about insufferable, nosy Gryffindors. I had assumed he was just fresh from one of your lectures.”

“Albus, the boy and I were having a civil conversation.” When Dumbledore raised a snowy eyebrow, “he is capable of having them. To be perfectly honest, the boy may be brilliant but he tends to scare me at times.”

“Perhaps so, Minerva. But I suspect Mr. Snape has quite a few more surprises left for us yet.”

Sighing, she looked the wizard in the eyes as she spoke. “I’m worried about him Albus. Perhaps you should talk with him, I just can’t seem to get through all those walls he’s built around himself.”

“Perhaps Taylor would be in a better position to gain the boy’s confidences in such matters?” The elder wizard said stroking his beard thoughtfully, “he is Mr. Snape’s head of house after all and Slytherins are more willing to trust a fellow Slytherin than an outsider. Experience has taught me that no matter how others may try to help, to mold a young and eager mind, one cannot change the nature of another.” Dumbledore sighed as he leaned against the first row of desks.

“Houses aside, Albus you are the boy’s head master. Mr. Snape needs guidance from someone he trusts, someone who’ll keep him out of the arms of that abomination.” McGonagall siad, adrenaline racing through her as she leaned across the desk and stared at the slumped wizard before her. “He’s starving for guidance, for someone to steer him clear of the darkness.”

“Minerva, as much as I would love to play that part for him, I’m afraid he won’t let me.”

“Surely, Albus, you wouldn’t just......?”

Holding up a hand, “I’m not abandoning the boy. But rather Mr. Snape has abandoned me. Since that incident with Misters Potter and Black a couple of years ago, Mr. Snape has lost what faith he may have had in me!” Wiping his eye, the wizard somberly continued. “I pushed him away when he needed me the most, Minerva. I should’ve dealt a harsher sentence to Mr. Black then I did. In protecting one child in my charge, I turned the other from me.”

“Albus,” the Gryffindor witch’s face softened. “You did what you thought was right at the time. None of us can predict the future.”


“That’s not it, his face.” Seeing her puzzled look, the wizard elaborated. “Mr. Snape looked at me, his eyes were dead. The only thing in them was unadulterated betrayal, Minerva. The last thing that he said, just before he left my office, drove a knife in my heart.”

“Albus...?”

The wizard sighed as he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes wearily with the back of his hand. “Every time I see one of the Slytherins, I hear his accusations.”

“What did he say?”

“Word for word, its etched in my head; ‘I understand perfectly, Headmaster. The good names of three of your golden Gryffindors out weigh the life of one lowly Slytherin. Don’t worry, I won’t forget that again.’ Every time I see him, I wonder how many have been forced to turn away from us, because I’m blinded by house loyalties.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Albus, Taylor should be the one Mr. Snape confides in.” McGonagall leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples, wishing the throbbing would disappear.

“You know, you never told me what you two discuss.”

Surprised at the abrupt change of subject, the witch paused momentarily to collect her thoughts. “Books, Albus. Mr. Snape and I discuss books.”

“Transfiguration.”

“Among other things, yes. But we’ll even discuss a muggle novel on occasion.”

“Perhaps then you should be the one to approach him.”

“Albus, I think not.”

“Mr. Snape has managed to open up to you, despite the rivalry between houses. Who better?”

“He talks about books, articles he’s read. Albus, nothing close to anything about himself.”

“As you wish, Minerva.” Dumbledore shook his head as he stood. “I shall of course see you at dinner.” Without waiting for a reply, the aged wizard crept out of the classroom feeling the full weight of his age.

The headmaster slowly wandered through the castle halls lost in thought. He was oblivious to the cheerful chatter of the students as he found himself standing at the stairs leading down to the Slytherin dungeons. Momentarily startled by his surroundings, Dumbledore watched sadly as the Slytherin students brushed past him. Was he imagining it or were they glaring back at him? Dumbledore swore he could see the Snape boy’s accusations shining in their eyes.

The sound of familiar voices creeping through the stone corridor drew the wizard’s attention. Slipping into the shadows of a nearby classroom door, the wizard patiently waited. The voices drew closer and the snow-capped wizard was able to hear their conversation. “....why does old Mcgonagall always hold you after classes?”

“She’s a Gryffindor Tobias. She doesn’t need an excuse to nose around into others’ business, especially a Slytherin’s.\" A silky voice drawled.

“If you ask me, I think the old spinster’s got a thing for you.”

“As if! Everyone knows she and Dumbledore are shagging, Nero.”

“Maybe she’s tired of helping the old goat get up and wants something young, Illianya.”

“You three shut up,” the silky voice hissed dangerously low. Dumbledore caught his breath, perhaps the Snape boy wasn\'t as lost as he had thought. “The last cretin on earth I want to waste my breath on is that Gryffindor-lover.” Severus snapped at his friends, much to Dumbledore’s dismay.

The aged wizard stepped out of the shadows behind the students. Clearing his throat, Dumbledore inwardly cringed as their looks of surprise melted quickly away to impassive masks. “I apologize for the surprise, children.” He swallowed, trying to ignore the seething looks the Slytherin students responded with. “Heading out for a butterbeer?” Dumbledore glanced between the four faces, four pairs of eyes narrowed at him. Sighing inwardly as though preparing for a difficult task, “join me in my office, if you please Mr. Snape.” The headmaster pushed passed the group and back towards his office knowing that the boy would follow.

“We’ll wait for you, Severus.” Illianya said glaring at the headmaster’s back, speaking loud enough for the older wizard to hear. “Slytherins take care of Slytherins.”

Lifting his voice slightly for Dumbledore’s benefit, “after all, who else will.” Dumbledore winced slightly at the boy’s simple statement.

Seeing Dumbledore disappear around the corner, Severus regarded his friends. “Its okay, Tobias. You go ahead, I’ll meet up with you at the Three Broomsticks.”

He stood outside the Headmaster’s office and glared at the stone gargoyle statute. Sneering, “thanks for the password.” Severus sulked against the wall, occasionally giving the statute dark looks. “Typical Gryffindor behavior,” he grumbled. Imitating Dumbledore, “the Slytherin will wait like a good puppy.” The Slytherin sneered at the statue before stalking down the hallway.

The snow-capped wizard stepped around the corner and stared forlornly at the retreating figure. His blue eyes were absent of warmth as he watched the last glimpse of billowing school robes disappear around a corner. Somberly, he rode the spiral staircase up to his office. The Slytherin’s cold remarks rang in his ears as he stroked the phoenix’s head. As much as he wanted to deny it, Dumbledore knew the boy’s words cut deeper then he had imagined.

A knock at the door brought Dumbledore out of his reverie, “come in.” He watched quietly as the door opened and revealed the visitor. “Ah, Taylor, how can I help you?” The headmaster gestured to a chair in front of hid desk as he slipped into his own. For a moment the wizard’s eyes flickered over the younger man. Deep stress lines marred the youthful features, his once vibrant obsidian eyes had dulled to emotionless.

Clearing his throat, “Minerva stopped by my office earlier.” The wizard relaxed against the back of the chair. “She seemed a mite concerned about you, Albus.”

Dumbledore smiled weakly, “I assure you, Taylor, I’m fine.”