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He stumbled over a stone, lying so inconveniently on the path which led from Hogsmeade train station to the castle. The only place close enough he could apparate to after the meetings were over and he was free to go. Dismissed. Class dismissed. Just as he had been saying it all the hundreds of times at the end of his lessons, hoping for some peace of mind after the last student would leave the classroom, leave him to himself. So was he hoping for this night - a few hours of peace, and of sleep, as much as he could gather, longing for the comforting dim light coming from the fireplace and the darkness of his bedroom to enwrap him, hiding him from the outside world, giving welcoming solace to his emaciated body and exhausted soul. He was far from the end of it all. In the morning he would face the blue and the green eyes again, just as he had faced the red ones tonight. And not only the eyes... His aching body, his limping legs struggling to walk up the path bore witness to it.
The night engulfed him, humid, tangible, heavy, as if it had decided to conspire with his sorrows to weigh down on his shoulders together. If he hadn't known the way to the gates by heart, after all this time, he would've certainly walked into the wrong direction by now, his mind as clouded as the sky above him. All the repressed thoughts and emotions he had hidden successfully behind the mental wall during his meetings with Voldemort were washing over him now. Suffocating him. Drowning him in their waves of overwhelming intensity. He needed distraction, so desperately. Something, or someone, to pull him out of the maelstrom of his mind so that he could focus on the essential things in life, such as food, and a bath, and sleep. Just like anyone coming from a long and exhausting day of work. Hasn't he earned at least these basic comforts by now?..
He knew, there would be no one around to welcome him back, hold the door for him, lead him to the dungeons so that he wouldn't take a header down the stairs if his legs finally succumbed to the general weakness. The castle was pitch black. Everyone was sleeping, just as they should. It was him who had to guarantee everyone was in perfect safety. His black limping frame in the darkness ensured their happy dreams.
Severus blinked. He was close to the gate now, holding his wand and ready to murmur the opening incantation. The sky was heavily clouded, neither stars nor the moon to be seen, the frame of the gate hardly distinguishable against the all-consuming darkness. And yet, something seemed to be moving, far away in the distance, a yellow dot, coming closer from the castle, heading for the gate. Not sure who or what to expect, he ran his fingers through the messy hair and slightly adjusted his travel cloak, still far from looking presentable, but perhaps the night would save him from an apprehensive look of one of his colleagues at his state. To someone not knowing where was returning from, he'll most likely make the impression of having scrambled from a deep pit. Which was true, in a way...
The yellow dot turned into a bright light stemming from a torch, illuminating the dark robes and the pointed hat of Minerva McGonagall.
"Here you are", she said, sounding slightly out of breath. She seemed relieved. "Albus told me not to wait for you as you'd be returning late, but I thought you might welcome it to see a friendly face on your way back. And it's so dark outside, even Lumos hardly helps. I almost tripped on my way here." She sounded uncertain, as if she expected him to push her away with her well-meant intentions he hadn't asked for, and a little bit tired. Had she been doing patrol tonight? He didn't have the schedule in mind. Had she dozen off while waiting for him?...
Severus nodded, squinting his eyes at the torch, silently acknowledging her insightful gesture. They walked up to the castle, her pace adapting itself to his sagging, heavy steps. With a flick of her wand, Minerva opened the front doors and let him enter. They continued walking, in comfortable silence, and he felt no need to report, no urge to explain, and no desire at all to send her away. Slowly they approached the stairs leading to the dungeons. Minerva descended first, the torch in her hand illuminating the way. He followed. No questions, no inquiries. Minerva knew when there was a time for words, and a time to hold them to herself.
When they arrived at the entrance to his rooms, she smiled slightly and pulled something from her robes. "I've baked them this evening - the Gryffindors were surprisingly well-behaving and didn't keep me busy for long. Albus would've gladly taken all of it but I reckoned you might be in more need of them, seeing as you had to skip dinner." He looked at her, the light engulfing her warm smile and serious gaze. Laying his hands around hers which were holding the box with the freshly made cookies, he squeezed them softly, then took the box. "Good night, Severus."
He nodded. Minerva made her way back through the hallway and to the stairs, the light of the torch departing with her and disappearing into the dark. He waited a few moments, eyes closed, summoning his focus, and opened the door.
The fireplace was lit.