Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"Standing Stones" (4/?)
by Christine Anderson
aka Lilly Malfoy

When I asked him about it, Severus explained that it had seemed easier than trying to argue with me. I couldn't help seeing his logic.

But- "What if you'd been seen?" I asked.

Severus rolled his eyes. "I had thought of that, Minerva. I had the Bloody Baron scout ahead."

The house ghosts were really quite useful. They didn't get along well at all, but the Baron listened to the head of his house, and Sir Nicholas had always been fond of me; probably it has something to do with the fact that I never let him hear me refer to him as Nearly Headless Nick. I am sure that they argued, that the Baron was up to his usual tricks and torments, but they never let Severus or I see or hear them going at it. I suppose they thought we had enough to worry about.

Of course, no one thought it odd if the ghosts were seen wandering the school at odd hours, so when there was urgent need to communicate, we used them to carry messages. I grew strangely fond of the Baron, but I always dreaded seeing him. Severus only used the Baron when Voldemort had called to the Death Eaters.

Sometimes he sent acidic little notes- Off for holiday. Back soon. Unless, of course... Well. Love and kisses, Severus. - which made me laugh out loud. That one I was especially fond of, echoing as it did one from older days, which he'd left along with his Potions notes (I'd been in the hospital wing after catching a Bludger to the head at a Quidditch match)- Going home for Christmas holidays. Back next term, unless the relations drive me to St. Mungo's. Love and kisses, Sev.

The Bloody Baron never had to say anything, the sight of him being enough of a message in and of itself, but he always did. Usually it was only two words- "He's gone." After a while I stopped counting the number of times I heard them.

I spent a lot of my time waiting, then- waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Severus to be called, and then, worry lines etching themselves into my face, waiting for him to come back.

Sir Nicholas would sit with me, pat my hand with his icy cold one in what was probably meant to be reassuring, and tell me not to worry, but I could do little else.

Severus's absences left a great deal of work to be done- someone had to teach the Potions classes, advise the Slytherin students, swoop around the dungeons telling people off, and scowl their way through the staff meetings. I had to try very hard to keep my nose out of Slytherin affairs, wanting to take up the slack, knowing I couldn't- but then Dumbledore hit upon the idea of ordering me to look after such things. So I had the Potions classes to balance with my own, Slytherins to take care of as well as Gryffindors. I stalked about the dungeons with a very put-upon air, complained constantly about having better things to do, and enlisted the aid of Argus Filch as my teaching assistant.

It was a good thing I didn't really need an assistant, because he was dreadful at it. But having Filch around gave the Slytherins someone to hate, which kept them from wondering- out loud, at least- where their head of house had gotten off to. (We had put out several rumors, some of them plausible, many not, rather than one story, to explain his absences, and it worked wonders- no one knew what the hell was going on, except those who needed to.) It also gave them someone to commensurate with about how insufferably horrid I was, and they all knew that he was Severus's friend. All the so-called unfair things I had done to them, all the homework I had piled upon them, was sure to get back to Severus, and then- They seemed a bit unclear on this point, but they were convinced that he could...take care of things.

Little did they know. I had my instructions, from Severus as well as Dumbledore. He was insistent that they not be cut any slack, that they be forced to work as hard as they would have if he had been there to teach them. I agreed; if we started cutting corners on account of the War, what was the point in keeping the school open at all?

Worrying over all of this kept me busy, as I am sure Dumbledore intended it to. And if only it had kept me a little busier, I would not have had time to sit and stare out my window one day at sunset... I'd left the Slytherin seventh years in their late afternoon Potions class in Filch's incapable hands- I figured the seventh years could handle him, rather than the other way 'round- and was sitting where I could see the sun going down over the road to Hogsmeade. The road he had walked down when he left, the road I could only pray I would see him walking along again, coming home...

I shook my head, tossed back a strand of hair that had escaped its clasp. But I could not shake off my thoughts so easily.

Where are you tonight, Severus? I wondered.

There was, as usual, no answer. And none of the possibilities- where he was, what he might be doing- that sprang to mind were particularly reassuring.

And so it was that I was still sitting there, gazing out the window, when Melyssa Longbottom flew up to the castle on her broomstick, brown hair flying.

I grabbed my cloak and dashed for the stairs. Dumbledore was just ushering her into the school when I skidded to a halt in the entrance hall.

"Minerva!" Melyssa exclaimed, and, beaming, threw her arms around me. I felt myself hugging her back, even as I wondered what had put her in such a good mood. It was not a cheerful time, and the news we had been getting was not good at all.

"Melyssa," I said. "It is good to see you."

"Come up to my office, won't you?" Dumbledore asked her.

Melyssa nodded. "Yes, thank you, sir."

The three of us ascended the marble staircase then, and made our way towards Dumbledore's office. As we walked, we spoke of inconsequential things.

"How is Frank?" Dumbledore asked. "And your son?"

"Well, both of them, and thank you. Mum is spoiling Neville rotten, of course, and as he's her first grandchild, Frank's mother is even worse."

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore said cheerily. I couldn't help but feel my spirits rise as well- the normalcy of Melyssa's baby was very welcome indeed.

We stepped into Dumbledore's office and arranged ourselves in chairs about the room.

"Well," Dumbledore said, growing a bit more serious. "I am glad to see you in such high spirits, Melyssa, but my curiosity overwhelms me. What-?"

Melyssa beamed. "Well... You know we've had some troubles with information leaks in the Ministry- that's what Crouch calls them, anyway- Moody has another word-"

"Yes," I said dryly, "I'm sure he does."

Melyssa raised her eyebrows at me, and I realized that it just might be possible I had been spending a bit too much time in the company of various Slytherins.

Then she laughed. "Oh- I'm sorry, but Merlin's beard, Minerva, that is exactly what Severus Snape said to me when I told him the same thing." She smiled. "Great minds think alike... Anyway, Moody's word is 'spy', and Merlin knows it's a bit more accurate... Well, whatever you want to call him, we got the bastard!"

"Melly!" I gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

"Who was it?" Dumbledore asked.

For the first time Melyssa's cheer seemed to fade a bit. "Rookwood. It was Rookwood."

"Ah." Dumbledore nodded. "We knew it had to be someone within the Ministry..."

Melyssa nodded. "Moody'd been chasing him for years- you knew that, Dumbledore-" he nodded "-and I haven't heard all of the details yet, but he finally managed to catch him in the act with a bit of help. Which-" Melyssa's smile returned, broader than ever "-is why I'm here. Because we couldn't have done it without Snape. Simply could not have."

"Is he-?" I couldn't help asking. Frank and Melyssa knew everything- as Severus' contacts with the Aurors, they needed to know everything. And we both needed someone to whom we could entrust these secrets. In those days, you could hardly trust your friends. And while Severus and I had each other, there was a great comfort to Frank and Melyssa. I think that in some ways we needed them as much as we needed each other. Maybe more.

She patted my arm. "Oh, darling, he's fine. Falling all over himself with self-congratulations, of course; he was positively smirking at me. Arrogant little git, isn't he?" she asked cheerily. I scowled. "Oh, Minerva, I don't mean anything by it, really- I'm actually a bit fond of him, irritating though he may be- but he does think well of himself sometimes. Considering," she added, for once that evening totally serious, "I think this should be encouraged."

"I quite agree, Melyssa," I said, and I was not altogether surprised. Yes, she'd always been sharp, Melyssa.

"Oh- that reminds me. These-" She reached into the black leather satchel she wore slung over one shoulder, and whipped out a single rose, red as blood, or the Gryffindor coat of arms, and an envelope "-are for you. So," she went on, hardly pausing for breath, "Crouch has scheduled Rookwood's trial for very shortly, and Snape will be testifying before a closed session of the Council of Magical Law, of course- Ministry court room, on the twenty-first- neither of you is really needed, except perhaps to help knock some sense into the reactionary old crowd, who will probably want to set up the Azkaban cell next to Rookwood's for Snape, but Frank and I ran it by Moody, and he reckons there's no reason you can't come along, stay with us in the city- Let us watch your backs for a bit. Merlin knows you've earned it. What do you say, Minerva? Bit of a vacation? Ministry's buying the wine, and we can all drink to having something go right for once."

"Melly, I..." I felt my face flush. "I don't even know what to-"

"Right, I'll tell Alastor you're coming, then," she said. "Just think- just think- how much brighter things look with the Ministry spy caught. Now all we've got to do is work some damage control, untangle the knot of messes he's left us with... And if you're fighting a battle on two fronts, you can't win either, but if we're not as busy fighting one of our own as You-Know- Oh, bloody- ridiculous nonsense- Voldemort- anyway, if we aren't, then we're left with only one battle on one front, and then we might just-"

Even Melyssa, for whom the goblet was ever half-full, couldn't say it, couldn't quite say out loud that thought's logical conclusion, but I could read it in the sparkle of her eyes anyway.

"We just might," she said. "And wouldn't that be something?"

"Yes," I agreed. Indeed, something...which was even now coming back to life for me, something I had thought dead, buried, blown away as dust. Just a dim spark, but it was returning.

Hope.

Severus, Alastor, Melyssa, and the others had put a stop to the Ministry spy. They had rooted out the traitor and were working to undo the damage that had been done.

Hope.

That someday, someday...

"It might be over after all," I whispered.

I was unaware I'd spoken aloud until Melyssa threw her arms around me. I had a difficult time making her out in any great detail through the tears welling up in my eyes, but that was alright; she could see no better through hers.

"And he could come home," Melyssa said, echoing my thoughts exactly. "Voldemort can be defeated, and if it's done, he can come home... We can put our worlds back together again, and you and Severus can be together, the way you belong."

I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks then. "Oh, Melly-"

"There's just one thing," she said. "If Frank and I aren't invited to the wedding, I swear by Merlin's ghost I will curse you, Minerva McGonagall! I really and truly will!"

This was too much for me- I fell to sobbing into my arms, tears of such joy even for the hope of these things.

It proved to be too much for Albus Dumbledore as well, and he cried along with us. And together we wept, the three of us, tears so long needing to be shed breaking free at last...

And it washed over me, rinsed me clean and left me standing in the warmth of sunlight.

Hope.

---

Inside the envelope I found a piece of parchment with my name written in swirling calligraphy; bold, curling strokes of ink that must have taken hours, and a gold ring, the Gryffindor crest inlaid upon it in ruby and yellow topaz. I didn't know how he had managed to find such a thing, but it fit my hand as if made for it.

I remembered his hands in mine, his fingers brushing over mine. And I smiled.

Save only for the fact that it was cast in gold rather than silver, and bore the Gryffindor arms, the ring was in every other way the twin of the ornate ring Severus had worn for the last year. His ring, crafted for his hand alone as mine was, bore the Slytherin arms in emeralds and diamond. I had realized the moment I saw it that it was a one of a kind piece, and that whomever had crafted it, held within their heart a deep and abiding love for Slytherin house.

As the hand that had crafted my ring loved Gryffindor.

The ring was the first thing to pass between us which I could wear openly, and from the time I first put it on, it never left my finger. Everyone who saw it complimented me on it, asked where I had gotten such a beautiful piece of jewelry. I smiled and shook my head, and said that unfortunately I could not tell them, as it had been a gift from someone very dear to me.

Perhaps I should have said it a gift from a friend, but I could not bring myself to speak that lie. I did not want to. So I told them as much of the truth as I could, and of course they saw that truth for what it was.

Rumors began to circle the school; Professor McGonagall had an admirer. My first and second years, a majority of them innocent little girls I wanted to wrap in cotton and shield against the world, begged me day upon day to tell them who it was. They swore solemnly that they could keep my secrets, that they would never tell. The older students had a different tactic- one of the girls came to see me and said that they could help, carry messages and so forth.

"Thank you," I told her. "But I have all the help that I need."

The Slytherins, as always, were a darker reflection of my Gryffindors. They, too, wanted to know if there was truth behind the rumors, and of course many of them had come to hate me over the months I had been supervising them in the absence of their real head of house. For a time they made up their own rumors, one of which backfired upon them rather spectacularly.

A Slytherin seventh year, Barty Crouch Jr., began to whisper amongst his friends that my secret lover was none other than Lord Voldemort. He didn't believe it, of course- I overheard him at one point muttering something to the effect of that I wouldn't have the guts- it was simply the most horrible thing that any of them could come up with. (They had tried a few physically impossible suggestions which a Ravenclaw fifth year had pointed out would never work in such matter-of- fact detail that they moved onto the simple but horribly offensive. I don't think the Ravenclaw even knew the meaning of those words. At least, I hope he didn't.)

It was the cruelest thing any of them had ever done to me, above and beyond the worst of the pranks they had pulled mostly to see if they could get away with them. I wished I dared lose my temper with them, but I didn't- Merlin only knew what I would say; I never could think straight when I was that angry. So I stormed around the staff room and Dumbledore's office for a few weeks, gave the Slytherins more hell than they had ever thought me capable of, and tried to see a way out of the mess.

I twisted the Gryffindor ring around on my finger, wondering what Severus would have done with them in this situation.

Moot question, really; they never would have dared with Severus.

Which was when I raised my head, a very nasty thought crossing my mind.

Dumbledore, sitting across the staff room, looked up from his Daily Prophet. "That is a very dangerous smile you are wearing, Minerva."

I gave my reflection a glance in the mirror propped up in the room's far corner. ("Stop smirking at me!" screamed the mirror.) "Why yes," I said. "I suppose that it is."

What I really needed, I had realized, was a way to remind young Crouch and his friends who it was they were dealing with. And because they were Slytherins, because they had learned a little too well the prejudices Voldemort and his followers were trying to foster, I was going to need a bit of help.

I wrote to Severus. As I'd thought, he was less than thrilled by his students' gossip.

"It lacks," he said when I met him in the mountainside cave outside Hogsmeade, "sophistication."

"Severus..."

"I would have expected much better," he said, his voice low and soft. "Something will of course have to be done."

"Of course," I snapped. "I just don't- Bloody hell, Severus, how do you deal with them? How do you not kill them in their sleep?"

"Years of practice." He sighed. "Barty Crouch has always been a problem, even for me. He believes his father's power can protect him from everything, keep him from trouble... Unfortunately, he is right. His father won't hear a single word against him, no matter what he's done- keeps insisting he's got bigger problems. And no one wants to get on the bad side of Crouch Sr. just now." Severus looked furious. "Stupid little bastard is going to get you killed!"

"Which stupid little bastard-?" I started to ask. Then, "What?"

Severus began to pace, arms crossed. "I would rather Voldemort was not reminded that Dumbledore's right hand exists, and that she leads Gryffindor," he said flatly. "We can't take the risk that he may hear about this- Young Crouch needs to be...redirected. At once."

"I am reasonably capable of taking care of myself, Severus," I bristled.

"If Voldemort decides he truly wishes you, personally, dead? I don't think-" He sighed. "I would rather not argue with you, my dear. Humor me?"

I nodded. "Alright. You're quite right, of course, but- What do you have in mind?"

"Well," Severus smiled, that smile of old days, so much like Lucius's, but without its malice- the smile that said he was up to something. "We can do one of two things. Either we find a way to scare Crouch off of bothering you..."

"Or?" I asked. I was fairly certain I wouldn't like the 'or'.

"Or... You let him catch you meeting someone else in my dungeons. Say... Moody?"

I gaped at him, flabbergasted. "Severus! No!"

He chuckled. "I knew you were going to say that. But we must distract him somehow. If he finds out the truth..."

I sighed. "You're right, of course, but- Moody?"

"Yes. There's some irony to the fact that he was a Slytherin, I think."

"True," I agreed. "But Moody?"

"It never crossed your mind, did it? That he is only three years your senior." He paused. "Good."

I laughed. "It's good to have you back," I couldn't help saying.

He smiled. "Thank you." Severus turned and began to walk back towards me. "We should keep an eye on this, but we'll be a week gone in London. Perhaps young Crouch will grow bored with this and find something else to amuse himself with?"

"That's almost what I'm afraid of," I said.

"If it continues to be a problem, we'll work on redirecting him." By which Severus meant that he would do something, the details of which I would likely be better off not knowing.

"Alright," I agreed. "But only if there is no other way, if he doesn't give it up on his own. We don't have time for this."

"Trust me," Severus said. "One way or the other it will be taken care of."

I nodded. "Just- Don't get caught doing anything stupid, alright? We need you where you are."

Severus laughed. "Get caught? I?"

I couldn't help responding in kind; the laughter bubbled up out of me as if with a will of its own. "You've heard from Frank and Melyssa, then?"

He smiled then. "Yes. I'll see you in London?"

I smiled back. "I wouldn't miss it for anything."