Nobody Cared

Oct 16 thru Oct 23

16 Oct 1991, Wednesday

Minerva McGonagall was fidgeting, something she rarely did. She had reason to, though. A hand lightly touched her elbow and she started as she found herself looking up at her colleague, Severus Snape.

"Are you well, Minerva?" he asked sotto voce.

A glare flared briefly upon her face before it faded to be replaced by tired resignation. "I am fine, Severus," she whispered just as the Headmaster arrived in the Staff Room.

"Good morning, everyone!" he greeted cheerily.

Dumbledore was greeted with varying degrees of cheerfulness, depending on how much sleep one had the night before. Snape, who never greeted anyone, went over to the sideboard where fresh coffee and tea waited. He poured himself a cup of the black brew and then a second cup of tea. He slipped something into the tea and then handed it to Minerva.

Minerva sipped the tea and was pleased to be greeted with the burn of her favorite Scotch laced within the tea. She smiled thankfully to Snape who nodded curtly.

Snape barely registered what the Headmaster was blathering on so cheerfully about. Usually it had to do with how the children were doing in classes, where the points were – Ravenclaw was currently ahead trailed by Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Gryffindor was still reeling from the points losses that had occurred from the attack on Miss Granger. The rest of the meeting dealt with the annoying, upcoming Halloween party for the lower years and the Halloween ball for the upper years. Chaperones for the ball were volunteered and Snape quietly smirked as the Notice-Me-Not Charm that he'd recently discovered worked wonders in the staff meeting. He was free from chaperone duties for the ball. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to volunteer as a monitor for the lower years party since there were hardly any teachers left to be volunteered. That duty he wouldn't mind so much as it would allow him to keep an eye on his son.

There was more, of course, but Snape only gave the Headmaster's discourse the attention it deserved, which was practically none. He'd rather be back in bed.

His night had not been a good one as he'd turned over the conversation with the Headmaster repeatedly in his mind until almost three in the morning. Unfortunately, just as he'd fallen back to sleep, the monitor spell that he'd put on Harry a few days ago woke him; the nightmares were back.

He had transfigured his pyjamas into a simple shirt and trousers and threw on the spare set of teaching robes he kept draped on the end of his bed for such eventualities.

In the dorm he'd found Draco cowering in his bed and he could immediately see why. Harry had not thrown up a Silencing Charm, but neither was he screaming out loud. His mouth was apart in a fearsome, pained, very angered looking rictus and his arms and legs were so stiff and taut that Snape feared they might break.

He had stretched out a hand to touch his son and was startled when the boy's eyes snapped open and he was greeted not with the familiar, gentle viridian, but angry maroon eyes and an unrecognisable voice that hissed, "Traitor!" Snape was then hit by a burst of magic that threw him against Draco's bed.

In that burst of magic the hold the nightmare had on Harry was broken and the distraught boy had burst into tears and curled up into himself. Draco had clambered out of his bed to see if his Head of House was all right. Snape was a bit winded, but he recovered quickly at the sound of his son's anguished sobs. Upon his feet, he strode over to the boy.

Snape had drawn his son into his lap while Draco sat uneasily on the foot of the bed, his concern wrinkling his brow. It was almost a half hour before the boy could talk and what he said was enough to give the Potions Master nightmares.