Oh, I wrote a Snape fic. But keep in mind, this is not a Snape fic. This is a Serverus fic. If you can't figure out the difference…you're retarded.
This story was heavily influenced by the music I was listening to, so pretty much every scene will have a song. Don't like it? Tough. This author runs a tight ship.
Link: Ship? Where? I don't see a ship…
Rhone: Calm down, Link, it was a figure of speech.
Link: Like a diagram?
Nori: Can I smack him now?
*sigh*
He walks, her, home
Now he walks a-lone
The days they turn into years
The eyes they drown in tears
Can you hear me scream
O-o-o thrown in all directions
You epitome of perfection
She's lost her will,
time is standing still
-"Time Stand Still" by The All-American Rejects.
Albus Dumbledore sighed and looked again at the short list of Defense Against the Dark Arts Teaching Applicants. Serverus Snape's name, of course, had been the first on the list, and similarly the first to go. These days Serverus seemed to do it out of habit more than anything else. Anyway, Dumbledore would never let him; he was a brilliant potions master, and he would be wasted in the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. All the others were incompetent, or they were suspect as working for Voldemort.
"Grandfather?"
Dumbledore looked up, and smiled at his visitor. She was a young woman in her mid-thirties, with long raven black hair in a plait that fell to the small of her back. Her eyes were a sparkling blue, and she was smiling.
"Cherry, what a pleasant surprise!" Dumbledore said crossing the room to embrace his granddaughter. "How are you, my dear?" he said, gesturing for her to sit.
"Not too well I'm afraid," she said, sitting down. "The US is having a lot of troubles lately, and the magical community is suffering as well. So layoffs came around, and because of my…problems-" she looked at him significantly, and he nodded that he understood. "I was, as they put it, 'let go to find a better job opportunity.'" She laughed bitterly. "Right. I was one of the best in my department, and they used the budget crisis as an excuse to fire me."
"I'm sorry to hear about that," Dumbledore said. "And you weren't able to find a job elsewhere."
"No," she said. "They always called my former employers, and then I never got a call back."
"I assume you returned to England to find a job?"
"Yes, but I haven't had much luck here either. Everyone is too freaked out by the return of Voldemort to hire."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Well," she said, dropping her eyes from his. From her bag she pulled out a resume. "I was hoping I could apply for the Dark Arts job," she said, putting it on the table.
"You are aware of the reputation of this position?"
"Yes," she said. "It doesn't scare me…not anymore."
"And you are qualified," said Dumbledore to himself as he looked over the resume. "Outstanding OWL's in all your classes, as well in the NEWTs. You were an Auror for three years, and then you quit and moved to the states, where you have been working as a magical security consultant." He looked up at her. "I can honestly see no reason not to hire you." Cherry smiled. "But I have to ask you: will you be able to work with Serverus? After your…history…together?"
"That's all in the past," she said stiffly. "I'm sure things will be fine."
* * * * *
I'd like to think that all of this constant
interaction
Is just the kind of make you drive yourself away
Each simple gesture done by me is counteracted
And leaves me standing here with nothing else to say
Completely baffled by a backward indication
That an inspired word will come across your tongue
Hands moving upward to propel the situation
Have simply halted
And now the conversation's done
-"There's No Home For You Here" –White Stripes.
Serverus Snape, potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, concentrated with fierce intensity as he measured out a liquid ingredient to put in the potion he was making. A smile touched his lips as he measured the exact dosage and added it to the potion boiling in the cauldron. The concoction billowed red smoke that smelled like cinnamon for a few moments as the latest ingredient catalyzed the reaction, then the smoke cleared to reveal a gray iridescent liquid. He picked up a wooden spoon (metal would have ruined it) and stirred it five times clockwise. A grin settled onto his face as he turned the heat down to a simmer. He washed off the spoon, then leaned back against the counter behind him with a true smile on his face.
Another perfect potion, he thought smugly. Technically it wasn't done yet, as there was one more ingredient left to be added, but the potion needed to simmer for four hours, and that last ingredient, though the hardest to find, was the easiest to add. When it was time, he'd add it, and with potion in hand he would Apparate to the Black House so that Lupin could take his medicine. But that was four hours away, and he hadn't eaten since last night, and it was now the afternoon.
He considered conjuring some food, but in the end he decided against it. The potion he had made was very magically draining, and he didn't want to overdo himself doing something so trivial. And also, if he passed out the potion would likely be ruined, and then it wouldn't be ready in time before the full moon. And while the idea of Lupin ripping up Potter, Weasley, and Granger was an amusing idea, he didn't think Dumbledore would find it very funny.
He straightened, and walked to the door, pulling a black robe over the shabby threadbare ones he had been wearing. The door closed with a click behind him.
As he walked toward the kitchen, his thoughts turned to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. He knew that Dumbledore wouldn't select him. He applied out of habit these days, although he did still want the job. He wondered who Dumbledore had picked, because he knew it was a short list. Perhaps he would try to get Lupin to teach again. He doubted that the werewolf would accept.
He was coming around the corner when he ran straight into someone, their shoulders jarring uncomfortably. "Watch where you're going!" He snarled, picking up his head to see who had so rudely knocked into him. He stared. "Ch-cherry?" he said. He looked like someone had smacked him on the back of the head with a board.
"Serverus," she said shortly.
"What are you doing here?" He asked. The stunned look was gone, replaced by one of badly veiled displeasure.
"Do I need permission to visit my grandfather?"
His face softened. "No, I suppose not," he said. He had planned millions of conversations in his head, but now he couldn't remember any of them. "It's been a long time."
"About seven years, if I remember correctly. That was grandfathers big birthday party." She smirked. "I must admit, Serverus, you did look quite good in lipstick."
Serverus flushed, and looked away, his face sour. "I was drunk," he muttered.
"Obviously," she said. She suddenly looked like she had remembered something, and reached into her pocket, pulling something out. "Here," she said, putting her hand out. He took it automatically. "I had meant to send it back, but- " He opened his hand a saw that it was an emerald ring. The jewel sparkled like a dragon's scale. "But I always seemed to…forget."
Serverus looked at the ring for a long moment, then took her hand with his free one. It was warm, and it had changed little from when he last remembered it. A little color rose in her cheeks at his touch, and he was both pleased and angered by it. "It was a gift," he said, putting the ring back in the hand he held. "I would have you keep it." Without another word he dropped her hand and walked past her.
"Serverus," she said softly. He stopped, but didn't turn. "I-I'm-"
"You're sorry," he said. His voice was harsh and cynical. He turned, and she could see the deep anger in his eyes. And the pain. "That might have worked sixteen years ago when you left, or even seven years ago, but it doesn't work now. I'm tired of 'I'm sorry'." He turned and continued to walk away.
"Serverus, your heart left me long before I left you!" She said viciously.
His stride faltered for just a moment, but then he went around a corner, and he was gone. For a long time, Cherry stood staring after him. She looked as if she couldn't decide whether to scream or cry.
Yay, first chapter! Boy, things are already getting complicated. And guess what? Things get worse!
Rhone: Well, I wouldn't exactly say worse…
Oh, butt out.
And if you are confused about Rhone, Nori, or Link, look at my bio page. It tells all.
Please please please please please please please review! I always respond to my reviewers in the next chapter. I love my reviewers!
Laters!
-ElvenRanger-