“beyond wandpoint” 062 by gingerbred
Mar. 21st, 2019 05:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beyondwandpoint“11 11b Tuesday - Good Morning, Minerva”
Minerva, Severus, Hermione, Filius, Pomona, Minny (house elf), mentioned: Hafsa, Kiera and Dhanesh Devi, Peeves, Albus, Sunny, Salome and Zacharias Smith
Originally Published: 2018-03-03 on AO3
Chapter: 062
Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Minerva wakes to a clear and beautiful morning.
It's cold, it's definitely cold, but that's hardly a concern for the witch who has called this part of the world home for most of her life. She's quite used to the nip in the air. And more than capable of casting a Warming Charm if need be. Or a dozen, for that matter.
There's a smile on her lips that lasts about as long as it takes her to stretch and rise... and remember that five of her charges had spent yesterday evening in the Infirmary. She sighs. Four of them were still there at curfew. She sighs again.
Those were her favourite seconds of the day. Pity that. It's nice when that lasts longer. It's a sign of the times, really. It used to last minutes, sometimes even hours.
There's nothing for it.
She calls for Minny, her house elf, before her feet even touch the floor. She slides into her thick green woollen felt slippers, to gird herself against the chill of the flagstones, as the elf pops into view.
"Minny, would you be so kind as to check to see how many of my House ended up spending the night in the Infirmary?"
The elf is gone with a "Yes, Mistress," and another 'pop!' before Minerva even has a chance to slip into her tartan robe. She freshens and makes her bed with a couple swishes of her wand, Summons her teaching robes and is just laying them out on the bed when Minny reappears.
Albus had thought it amusing to assign her an elf with much the same name as hers. 'Minny for Min. Or do you suppose it's the other way 'round?' He'd chuckled.
Sometimes she wonders if Albus renames the elves for the occasion when they're assigned. But with a hundred odd to choose from, perhaps that proves unnecessary.
Still, it had gone better than when he tasked Sunny with serving Severus back when he first joined the staff - to match the man's disposition, Albus had said, saddling him with the preternaturally cheerful elf. Severus had looked exceedingly dour as it was announced. Minerva could understand the impulse. There'd been no need at all to say as much in front of others - not that she hadn't had to grin, she had taught him for seven years after all - except to have a bit of fun at the man's expense. Not surprisingly, Severus hadn't appreciated it. But then, who does?
By that logic, perhaps she'd been assigned Minny because she herself is so 'small'? If so, that was surely as ironic as Sunny's assignment had been, as Minerva is a very tall and stately woman. But she suspects she could go mad searching for Albus' logic. Particularly of late.
One of these days someone will seize his sack of sweeties, and then where will the man be? She's holding out hope for either Severus or Peeves doing the honours. Honestly. Albus is worse than the third years back from their first trip to Honeydukes. Probably all of them taken together, even.
More so lately... It's a little... concerning.
Minny tells her that three of her students had spent the night in the Infirmary, which Minerva takes to mean Filius hadn't been able to put Mr. Devi to rights, but had presumably escorted Madam Devi back to the Tower. Surprisingly close. But then, she does have years of experience going for her. She'll have to have a talk with Mr. Devi's sister and see if she can't bring the young woman to tell them which Charm she used.
After breakfast then.
The students are generally more pliable on full stomachs. Sadly that comes at the price of their mental acuity. Still, some days it's worth the trade. In fact, the difference isn't always all that marked, she mentally adds with a grimace.
It's hard to imagine the Devi girl had found something that had stumped Minerva's diminutive Charms colleague; the lass is hardly known for her industry, and for her academic prowess not at all. But it has been known to happen from time to time. Possibly some Charm she found in a rare and old family tome... Minerva simply hadn't expected it from that quarter.
That was always a danger with the old families, the bits of knowledge that get passed down, one way or another. Every once and again, that actually provides Filius with a challenge. The Ravenclaw does rather enjoy those. Unless he's required to undo a truly unusual miscast, he hardly has any real challenges since the twins... exmatriculated. She smiles at the thought of the infamous Weasleys and their... leaving. They were enough to make a Head of House proud, irrespective of any academic shortcomings.
There's much to be said for students with curiosity and a passion for knowledge and discovery. Admittedly, she feels there's more to be said for them when they're well behaved and studious. That's not technically true, as she'd had all manner of things to say about Fred and George precisely because they weren't particularly well behaved, but she probably hadn't meant it that way. Still, their fire, their enthusiasm appealed to her, greatly, either way.
If worst comes to worst, should Hafsa refuse to cooperate, Minerva might send her to see Albus and have him perform a spot of Legilimency on her. This can't be permitted to go on.
She thanks and dismisses Minny and sets about getting ready.
When she enters her lounge, still magicking her hair neatly into place as she goes, she's always impeccably coifed, at least when she isn't being stunned from behind by a number of cowardly Aurors or Ministry toadies, she's puzzled to find a note lying for her on her coffee table. She might have overlooked it, but it is glowing rather ostentatiously. Severus would have quite derogatory things to quip about her wards, if things can be placed in her lounge just like that. That is, were he conscious and aware of it. As it is, he has more immediate problems to worry about. Or would, were he conscious and took note of them.
As she unfolds the note - and here again, Severus would be quite scathing that she hadn't bothered to check for... well, anything, really, trusting far too much to the safety of the castle, which the events of Friday should have proven is completely illusory - and a piece of paper flutters out. She reaches for it and catches it midair.
Severus wouldn't have bothered saying anything about that. He'd have been rendered speechless, pinched the bridge of his nose and simply groaned. Perhaps just a mite dramatically. Or simply raised a disdainful eyebrow in silent disbelief, it's a bit of a toss up. But to be fair to Minerva, the risk from Portkeys, at least, is very minimal without the Headmaster's involvement. Now contact poisons and cursed objects, on the other hand... And it's not like there hadn't been any of those this past year...
Severus would come to the conclusion, once yet again, that he and his colleagues inhabit vastly different realities. Fortunately, he's spared all of that as he lies sleeping, recovering from the extensive injuries he, somewhat less fortunately, had received the previous night. Something by way of a mixed blessing then, it would seem, not that he otherwise would have had to have known any of this, but he has a bad habit of asking those sorts of questions and a worse one of engaging in casual Legilimency. Albus had set quite the abominable example on that front. But it only serves Severus right if this is what he discovers when he intrudes in such a fashion. Really.
Luckily by the time Severus wakes and speaks to his colleague again, he'll have very different things on his mind, and he'll never have to know about any of it. He'd doubtlessly consider it a small mercy.
Minerva turns the slip of paper over to discover it seems to be a voucher for a painting of her choice from a local gallery, Warts and Warhol's in Hogsmeade. How nice. It's quite unhoped-for; it's not her birthday - that had been last month, her sixty-second, as was, or any other day of significance...
But she needn't wonder long, as the accompanying note, she determines as she smooths it open, appears to bear the explanation.
Ah. Severus...
He seems to have made off with the portrait from her classroom. How... unexpected. Sixteen years they've been colleagues, and he's never done anything like that before. She doubts he's set foot in her classroom since he was a student in fact...
And then she all too quickly has to correct that as she recalls what had apparently happened there just this past Friday.
Oh, dear... Yes, of course.
Scanning the note further only confirms it.
What was left of the peace of the morning is gone without a trace at that, as surely as if it had Disapparated without even a 'pop'. She's well and truly awake now. More's the pity.
The images of the blood pouring down on poor Miss Granger... They've been haunting her. She keeps trying to put them out of her mind - occasionally with success, but never for long enough - because she doesn't think the young woman would appreciate that that's what she sees in her mind's eye whenever she looks at her.
She's quite right on that count. Hermione wouldn't welcome it at all.
Well, it's nice that Severus thought to mention he'd pinched the painting, she thinks somewhat wryly. Obviously asking first would have been preferable... Wizards. She shouldn't like to imagine what he would have to say if she absconded with something from his classroom, no matter how noble her reasons.
She'll acknowledge to herself, at least, that she finds his stated reasons rather noble. Acknowledging as much to him seems very ill advised. And probably counterproductive.
Truthfully, he'd be quite surprised if she managed to nick something from his room. Not even Peeves can enter his domain, and Peeves has the decided advantage of being noncorporeal a good portion of the time, certainly should the need or desire arise.
The irony that his wife had managed to... liberate some needed potions ingredients from his stores will be mercifully kept from him for a little time yet. That incident in conjunction with Barty Crouch Jr.'s raids on his supplies were instrumental factors leading to the tightening of his own wards. And of course the return of You-Know-Who. That may have been a more crucial factor. Severus is wise enough never to even hint at such a thing.
At present, his wards should prove very difficult to break, and he's extended much of the protections from his chambers, in modified forms, to his classroom and office as well. With the sensible and necessary concessions, naturally. 'Concessions', unfortunately, are synonymous with 'weaknesses'. Still, he's reasonably confident his classroom and office are secure from all but Hogwarts house elf deliveries outside of class hours and detentions, and doesn't hesitate to say as much when faculty get to chatting about these things.
Typically, he offers to eat his broom if any of the others can break his wards. Some take it for conceit, others for simple antagonism, but provoking Filius in that fashion had led to the discovery of a potential vulnerability just last year, thankfully long before the wards were actually breached, or any brooms had to be eaten.
It wouldn't have been nearly as bad as it sounds, though. Severus had developed a Charm in his seventh year to Vanish substances directly from his mouth. It seemed a logical extension of some of the Charms he'd learned from Lucius. Well, possibly not logical, but it built upon them, which made creating it easier.
He'd been only seventeen, impulsive and stupidly allowed himself to be taunted by his roommates into making a foolish bet with Mulciber, which he'd promptly lost. Horribly. Developing that Charm had been dead necessary or he'd have had to swallow his school trunk. It should go without saying that reneging wasn't an option.
The Charm had posed some intriguing problems. He clearly wouldn't be able to cast it repeatedly in front of everyone, and at that age he'd doubted his ability to perform the Charm silently and wandlessly as many times as required. Certainly not while chewing on bits of luggage. He needed a spell that would last for a while.
Initial experimentation with that had gone very wrong, and caused all his food to Vanish from his mouth for a day and a half. By dinner the second day, he'd gotten a bit nervous about what might happen if it didn't stop. Fine, panic may have set in. Merlin, he was almost hungry enough he would have gladly eaten his trunk, which sort of defeated the whole purpose... Sadly, it had helped some that he was all too used to going hungry. But eventually his spell worked as intended. Like a Charm, in fact.
It didn't get him around tasting the trunk, however. Shy of Obliviating the bet from the entire Slytherin dormitory's collective memories, a definite impossibility at the time, there'd been no way to avoid that. To this day he'll swear that everything he tried tasted of leather, iron and wood for the entire next week, but it was still preferable on balance as he can't imagine actually eating the trunk would have been remotely good for him, although presumably high in fibre. There's that. But if swish came to flick, he'd much rather take a potion for it.
And of course a Geminio in advance meant he wasn't stuck without a trunk after the fact. Coming from a very poor family, he was careful to think of things like that. He'd even gone so far as to eat the Geminioed version. Well, chew it. Just in case it wasn't as robust as the original, Merlin, he'd rather hoped it wasn't as robust... He still has the original stowed in his attic at Spinner's End. Who knows if a Geminioed trunk would have lasted that long. Or why one would want it to...
It was exceedingly good, as things had transpired, to be made aware of any weaknesses in his protections, and Filius tends to peruse a good many things not on the typical Death Eater's summer reading list. (If Severus lives to be 137 3/4 he will never forgive them for having nothing but time on their hands and access to the Malfoy's library and not cracking a single tome. Dunderheaded trogs, the lot of them.) Forewarned is forearmed, as the saying goes (not that he's especially fond of forearms since the late seventies), and he'd been able to adjust his wards accordingly.
Naturally he could have just asked Filius to test his wards, but he finds most of his colleagues aren't taking the threats as seriously as he feels they should, and regrettably they're much more motivated when riled. But he can work with that. It was easier than trying to convince them to do their best, and had the clear advantage that no one was left with the impression they had done him a favour.
He's learnt rather a lot since his seventh year.
Sybill says Severus is showboating when he makes claims like that about the strength of his wards, the truth of them notwithstanding. On the other hand, Minerva suspects Sybill and the truth aren't well acquainted. They're certainly not friendly.
But then that's something Minerva can understand all too well. It's frequently... challenging even being civil to the Seer. Kind, she can manage when circumstances absolutely demand it, but friendly?
Showboating. Now there's the cauldron calling the kettle black. Minerva had heard rumours about a prophecy of the Seer's yesterday...
On reflection, Minerva's actually quite... satisfied with the measures Severus has taken.
She concentrates on that a little more and allows the thoughts of Miss Granger bound to her chair to fade. She performs a number of mental exercises, practically second nature, that are part of the basic Animagi training to help clear her mind. Those exercises are indispensable if one wishes to learn to Transfigure one's form in that way - she'll never understand how Pettigrew, Black and Potter mastered them - but they've also proven useful in many other areas of her life. Compartmentalisation helps increase her efficiency. Some days, it's all that keeps her going.
Having given herself a moment, she can now honestly say she's pleased with Severus' endeavours on Miss Gr... Madam Snape's behalf. It helps, naturally, that Minerva wasn't overly attached to the painting and doesn't mind its removal. It was probably well past time for a change. Goodness, it's getting on twenty years... On consideration, she realises it had only just missed hanging there when Severus was a student...
But far more importantly than the portrait itself, this means Severus had cared enough to take precautions for the young woman, to try to make things... easier for her. Both the fact he had thought about it - and arrived at sensible conclusions - Merlin knows, that's rare enough, and then had been willing to take steps towards that end made a difference. One without the other is useless. There are always those who grasp more and yet still don't act, and those that would but haven't a clue what to do; neither is of much good here.
She Summons parchment, quill and ink and writes a few lines, thanking him for the voucher, but saying it won't be necessary. She can speak to Albus and have him issue her a different artwork.
She hesitates, and then decides against thanking Severus for his efforts on Miss... Madam Snape's behalf. It goes against her better nature not to do so, but he probably wouldn't appreciate it. Again, it's a good call. She's learnt some things about people in her years teaching.
No, he's far more likely to think she meant to imply he didn't have the students' interests at heart, or his bondmate's for that matter... Or worse, that she meant to imply something about his relationship to the young woman. She's firmly convinced now, there is none, which somewhat contrarily she's beginning to think is a... pity.
It's a strange thing, she's come to realise. Had there been a... relationship, she would have called for his head. Loudly. Unequivocally. She might have removed it herself. And if he'd been lucky, she might have left it at his head. It doesn't matter the least to her that the young woman is an adult. She was still his student. To Minerva, that represents a line that cannot, must not be crossed.
But given there wasn't any relationship, now that they're bonded, she finds it somehow very... sad. She frankly wouldn't have wished it on him, and she certainly wouldn't wish it on poor Miss Gr... Madam Snape.
Severus was correct, it's a grim thing to face for the rest of their lives. As he'd suggested, she can't imagine she would ever consent to making such a sacrifice. For Mr. Potter, say. Or any of their other charges.
Minerva may be doing herself a disservice there. It makes a great deal of difference that the threat isn't the same, and she isn't facing such a decision. It's not at all clear what she'd do if it were. But it is fortunate she'll never have to find out.
The Transfigurations Mistress settles instead on writing in her note that she is quite happy to make that little sacrifice of the portrait if it will help the young witch any. She had been sincere Sunday, if there is anything she can do to help, they need only let her know. That seems sufficiently neutral, it shouldn't give Severus any reason to get his back up. Although with him, one never knows.
Satisfied, she pockets voucher and her note and heads to breakfast.
Filius comes in as Minerva is helping herself to some eggs and takes the empty seat between her and Pomona to her right. Albus, Severus, Hagrid, and even Professor Taylor all aren't there yet. It's probably coincidence, but it helps her mood to scoff 'wizards' under her breath. Truthfully, she should just be thankful Taylor hasn't arrived yet.
"Good morning, my dears. I trust everyone slept well?" Filius enquires as he hops up onto the seat.
She and Pomona assent, niceties are exchanged, and her colleagues natter on about the weather and what it might mean for some late crop or another of Pomona's.
Minerva surveys the Hall and can't help noticing Miss Kil... Madam Devi hasn't appeared yet. Kiera is usually an early riser, but presumably she's visiting her... bondmate in the Infirmary. Perfectly reasonable. And probably preferable to the alternatives, had they both been in the Tower. Not that they hadn't been the night and morning before, but then all eyes hadn't been upon them at the time, so to speak.
As the majority present would have no way of knowing if she were in the Infirmary, not that she is, it shouldn't make any difference whatsoever... Truthfully, by this time Minerva is responding based on feeling and not thought. Gryffindors frequently do.
Miss... Madam Snape also hasn't arrived yet. Minerva scans further and has to acknowledge that neither have the... Smiths. And of course nor had Severus, as she'd already noted.
Now the... Smiths aren't necessarily early risers, and Severus has been highly variable, at least by his standards, as to the times he appears the past year or so... She tries not to think about why that might be in light of what she'd seen of his injuries Sunday evening. Taken by themselves, their absences wouldn't be food for much of anything, really. But in the sum, the fact not a single one of those whose bondings were announced yesterday has put in an appearance gives one to think.
And apparently she isn't the only one to think so, from the snippets of conversation she can catch from the students' tables.
No, it seems to be quite the gossip fodder.
Perfect.
Any peace of mind she'd been able to work to achieve disappears the longer she listens to it. She stabs a little angrily at her breakfast, spearing a bite of a link of sausage, and trying to swallow it around the lump forming in her throat. Her soldiers lie forgotten at the edge of her plate.
If appearances don't deceive, Pomona seems quite relaxed about... matters. Naturally that only serves to make Minerva more tense.
Appearances, in this case, are in fact spot on. The Smiths are of age, they're bonded. Expecting anything else of them - which isn't to say Pomona is willing to explicitly define what exactly she expects of them, but still - expecting anything else would be absurd. And improper. No one has any right to expect them not to... canoodle.
Pomona stifles a chuckle as she watches Minerva clenching.
She likes her colleague. Very much. She's known her since they were school girls, from the days when she'd been a lost little firstie and Minerva was a prefect and had kindly shown her the way to the greenhouses. Pomona had loved them at her very first sight of them, never dreaming they'd one day be hers, and she always associates that feeling, at least a little, with Minerva who had spent the whole walk over animatedly telling her about all the wonderful things she'd learn there. It had been entrancing, magical, and was something very special to have shared, and for that alone Minerva would always have a special place in her heart. But sometimes she can't help thinking the woman would do herself a terrific favour if she could just... relax a little.
It makes things much simpler, however, that Pomona really doesn't particularly like the Smiths. Her advice hadn't been sought as to their bonding. They've made their... bed, their marriage bed, it would seem, in point of fact, and they are quite welcome to lie in it as far as she's concerned. There isn't a great deal for her to be upset about.
But then her relationship to Miss Perks was never remotely the same as Minerva's to Miss Granger. That makes quite the difference.
It never occurs to Minerva's colleagues that part of the reason she's tenser than they are of late is she is a member of the Order and they are not. She has completely different, far deadlier concerns she's facing. Regularly.
But to be fair to them, it doesn't generally occur to her to consider that Severus is not just a member of the Order, but of the Death Eaters as well, and something of a triple agent to boot, and he has even deadlier concerns to face than she has.
These oversights aren't malicious. They're human. They simply fail to take their different frames of reference into account. But that accounts for many of their problems.
Minerva really is convinced Miss... Madam Snape had told the truth, there's nothing of... that sort between them. But the longer she sits there, the longer they're absent, the more those present begin joking and laughing about it... Well, she finds herself asking herself just what Severus is playing at. He certainly should have been aware of what a difference appearances can make and taken steps to limit their exposure to wild speculation. He is the Slytherin, after all.
What difference exactly she thinks their presence would make is unclear, and has mostly to do with her own nerves. Or perhaps it's naïveté. If the couple had entered the Hall the very moment the doors unlocked, those same wagging tongues would simply say their wild night of passion together ended earlier. Or perhaps they'd malignantly claim it was... unspectacular and the... Snapes had called it a... morning, presumably. It certainly wouldn't stop the gossip. It might only succeed in changing it, but probably not in making it any less... problematic.
The later it gets - not that it's all that much later, but this is a sensitive point for her - the angrier she becomes. Giving her breakfast up as a bad job, she puts down her knife and fork and turns her attention to her cup of tea. She's hoping the hot cure-all will indeed cure all, she could very much use a panacea right about now, and make inroads against the anger that seems to have physically manifested and is now inopportunely situated quite obtrusively in her throat.
She's begun thinking she might just pop down to Hogsmeade and stop by Warts and Warhol's and purchase their most expensive portrait at Severus' expense. More fool he for offering so open-endedly...
Filius and Pomona's conversation reaches a lull and making an honest attempt to try to take her mind off the... Snapes, Minerva breaks in with a "Thank you for trying to sort Mr. Devi for us, Filius."
"Oh, not at all, Minerva, happy to help, happy to help."
This is normal ground, comfortable, and Minerva realises she's glad of the change. She shakes herself out of it and turns to Filius, suddenly eager to stick to safer topics. She really should have just joined in their conversation earlier; it might have done her some good.
"I appreciate your time and effort on their behalves, and I'm quite sorry the Countercharm is being such a bother. Is it at least proving interesting?"
His forehead wrinkles and then he replies, "No, it wasn't all that difficult. Quite unusual, I will say that for Miss Devi. I was half tempted to award her points for that," at Minerva's disapprovingly raised eyebrows, he reassures her, "No worries, there, my dear. I wasn't that foolish. But ultimately the hex wasn't that difficult. Still, I'd be most interested to hear where she found it, if you think you can get that bit of information out of her? No, I found the solution last night without too much trouble...
"But the Devis were rather... well they seemed quite... insistent that they wanted to leave the tail in place for a few days. To give it a go, as it were..."
Minerva, it must be said, really does have the worst luck with her tea. She had just taken rather a mouthful of the hot brew and now finds herself choking again. Pomona, as ever, remains convinced she knows precisely how to deal with that, and leaps to the rescue, and Minerva's rotten luck holds, in as much as Poppy won't appear to contradict her until Minerva's left.
Pomona's heart is in the right place. Would that were so of her hand.
The thumping that ensues does as little as it ever does to help, and Minerva coughs her way through the fit.
"You left the tail in place so they could 'give it a go'?!" She gasps.
Filius' first thought is something along the lines of 'well, it is their honeymoon, after all' but astutely realises that will probably only make matters worse. Likewise he discards his second, third and fourth answers respectively addressing the legality, health benefits and finally ethics of interfering in the sex lives of consenting adults, and bonded ones at that. And then he comes up empty, and finally accepts nothing he can say will mollify Minerva. Hmm. Yes. There's a reason he's a Ravenclaw.
Unfortunately, Pomona doesn't seem to have thought it through quite as thoroughly as Filius had, and when he doesn't answer, she does. "Now, Minerva, they're on honeymoon, after all."
Suitably reassured, Filius squeaks, "My thoughts exactly..." His voice quite high as it gets when he's nervous or excited. (It's probably the first at just this exact moment.) And that nervousness may be increasing as Minerva's expression darkens.
Pomona is undeterred and continues as though there had been no interruption, "You were young once, too."
Minerva had in fact been a little over three years shy of her fiftieth when she married her dear Elphinstone. And while forty-six is hardly any age at all for a witch, it is certainly not, in any sense, comparable to the youth of the seventeen year olds apparently currently giving an extra... appendage a go.
It seems she'd had that right yesterday after all.
"You're encouraging student..."
"Relations." Pomona unhelpfully supplies with a smile. Filius has got the right of it - he's keeping mum.
"Cavorting!" Minerva half hisses. Cats have been known to do that, and at moments like this, it's easy to see the feline in her. It's fair to note the morning has proven rather taxing for the Gryffindor, as in fact have the past couple of days. Her nerves are a little raw.
She marshals her thoughts and then thinks she's spotted the obvious flaw in their logic, "But what good did that do them in the Infirmary?" Minerva is trying her utmost not to imagine Poppy standing for this nonsense. Which probably means it's also a very good thing she has no idea what Poppy gets up to.
"Well, I saw them both back to the Tower last night before retiring..." Filius isn't sure that won't make things worse, but he can hardly lie about it. Nor should he care to. Not least because the Fat Lady will happily contradict him should he even try. He's practical like that. Bloody portraits.
"Then who else was in the Infirmary?" Minerva now demands of no one in particular, more than a little concerned. Normally students needing to go to the Infirmary after curfew stop by their Head of House's quarters for an escort. If need be, they can then even Floo there with her assistance. And yet no one had so much as knocked. Her wards would have detected that.
"Just Misters Weasley and Thomas when I left." Filius really isn't sure how to appease her. In the absence of clearly preferable options, he goes with the truth.
He's relieved when the exchange thankfully comes to an end as someone bursts through the doors and everyone's attention is diverted. Or almost. Pomona leans over and whispers to Filius, "You know how Minerva feels about 'cavorting'."
He chuckles and whispers back, "I suppose we can add it to the list with 'canoodling'..."
"Perhaps we should add 'capering' as well. Just to be on the safe side," she replies with a giggle and a wink that make the Herbologist seem a good deal younger than her years.
Both Hermione and Severus would happily point out that Minerva had never voiced any opinion about 'canoodling' one way or another had either of them been party to the relevant conversations. All considered, it's presumably better for all concerned that they weren't, although probably not just for that reason.
Hermione causes quite a stir when she swoops into the Great Hall during breakfast. She's lucky it's early, and not as many people are there yet, but the word will spread, there's no doubt about that.
For one thing, she isn't wearing her school robes. She's in Mugglewear, extremely... tailored Mugglewear, and the typically well concealed figure that reveals gives rises to a great deal of speculation as to why the Professor had been willing to bond her.
And a little envy.
Under radically different circumstances, both of them might have been a bit pleased about that. The envy, not the speculation; there's virtually no situation where they'd welcome that. Unfortunately those are not their circumstances.
Then, too, her hair is rather thoroughly... tousled when she storms into the room and marches right up the centre of the Hall to the High Table. And for another, her... bondmate is noticeably absent from said Table. There have already been more than a few nudges and winks about why he might be having a lie in, given the announcement of his bonding just the evening before.
The reasons for their absences are unrelated, but the situation isn't helped by the fact that neither the Devis nor Smiths are present. Naturally, it can take a moment to work out a bathroom schedule when sharing digs with a new flatmate. Admittedly, that's presumably an extremely naïve explanation in their cases.
Unaware of the ruckus her presence, or Professor Snape's absence, is causing, Hermione proceeds unchecked to the High Table and stops directly in front of Professor McGonagall. In a tone that is highly questionable from student to teacher, and particularly in Hermione's case thoroughly unheard of, she demands that the Professor come with her. If everything else hadn't been sufficient fuel for the gossip fires, that will have done the trick.
Sensing the importance of doing so in Miss Gr... Madam Snape's changed demeanour, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach that now makes her relieved she hadn't eaten more, the Transfigurations Professor rises from her seat, walks around the table and follows the younger woman silently out of the Hall. It probably helps that she now has a different association entirely with what it might mean when Severus is absent.
Only when they are clear of the room and witnesses does she ask the little witch where they're going and what the meaning of this is.
Hermione only answers half the question. "You thought I had underestimated his condition. That he had taken advantage of me. I need to show you something."
There's something in her tone that has Minerva worried. The fact that their path leads once again in the direction of the Infirmary simply reinforces her concerns. Minutes later the young woman is leading her again to the back room, and Minerva has no doubt whom she'll find there. The only question is what state he is in.