Minerva couldn't have chosen worse time to take ill, Severus thought morosely, cursing her inflamed bile duct under his breath. Now he was forced to do the worst duty ever that a Head of a house had to carry. He stopped before the portrait of the Fat Lady and asked her to order Longbottom to get there.
Severus stood in the corridor – so lighter than the dungeons, he noticed idly – waiting impatiently for Longbottom, furiously trying to find out a kinder way how to break the news to the boy.
Finally, or all too soon, Longbottom stepped out of the portrait, Potter in his heals. Severus scowled at them. He opened his mouth to send the boy-wonder away, but then he reconsidered. He remembered the easy camaraderie during the Hogsmeade outing five weeks ago. Potter would take care of Longbottom, which meant that Severus wouldn't have to do it himself.
He fished a small vial out of his pocket, handing it to Longbottom, ordering, “Drink this.”
The dense boy stared at the vial, unmoving.
“What's that?” Potter asked and under Severus' dark stare he hastily added, “Sir?”
“It is a strong dose of Calming draught. Drink up,” he urged Longbottom, uncorking the vial for him.
The boy's face contorted in horrified realisation. Second later, the thought dawned on Potter too.
“You should probably drink it, Neville,” he urged, and laid a comforting hand on the other boy's shoulder.
Severus felt grateful that the boy was here – as much as he hated to be grateful to a Potter.
Longbottom gulped down the foul tasting liquid, and his face smoothed. Severus loved potions. Now he could bring the news and not have to worry about hysterics.
“I am sorry, Longbottom,” Severus said, not wasting time. “Your Grandmother passed away this morning.”
The boy just nodded, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.
“You are excused from attending classes tomorrow.” Severus paused minutely and then added sourly, “You are excused too, Potter, provided you will make company to Mr. Longbottom.”
“Thanks, sir, that's really decent of you,” Potter answered, insolent as usually. From his face and his whole body posture it was clear that decency was the last thing he expected from his teacher. Who the hell did the boy think Severus was?!
He let it slide, and continued his speech. “As Professor McGonagall has taken ill, I will have to step in her duties. The day after tomorrow I will accompany you to your castle, to meet barrister, organise the funeral and generally help to settle matters that need to be settled.”
Longbottom half shrugged, half nodded. Severus wondered if he had heard him at all.
“Potter, I will hold you responsible if Longbottom's not at the front door at 9 am sharp the day after tomorrow.” Severus said. Then he fished another six vials, and handed them to Potter. “These four are doses of the Calming draught, not to be taken sooner than five hours after the first one. These two contain Dreamless Sleep.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Potter took the potions, and carefully slipped them in his pockets. “We will take care of Neville.”
Severus nodded at him, and parted with another condolence, “Sorry for your loss, Mr. Longbottom.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Beta read by Nightshade
Chapter 4