"Hello, Harry. It's Severus. I was wondering if…ah, I mean…look, can you just gimme a call?"
--
The breakfast that Ginny set before him with purpose, neatly prepared and perfectly presented, was indeed one of the better things he had put into his mouth as of late. He wouldn't remember by that evening.
--
"Hey Sev, it's Harry. I'm returning your call. You obviously aren't home. Do you wanna meet this weekend? I have tickets to a play and, ah, me and Ginny aren't speaking. So, yeah, call me back."
--
The box of pizza would leave a greasy stain on the couch. He knew that, but he felt wearied. He could deal with the stain. He settled into his large black duvet, idly sipping beer from his mug. He knew he should call Harry back, but made no move for the phone. The grease was setting in.
--
"Sorry I missed the play, Harry. I've been away. You know. Voldemort. Dumbledore. So, gimme a call. Ah, bye."
--
He thought perhaps he should change his socks. It seemed like they must be dirty by the third day of him lying prone on the floor. He hadn't considered showering. Merely changing his socks. But they could wait, he thought.
--
"Hey Sev. It's okay about the play. Ginny and I started talking again, so we went. And, um, Merlin, I don't know how to say this. I think maybe we should stop seeing each other for a while. It's just, I have kids and everything. Let's….let's just talk. Call me, yeah?"
--
He stirred the potion slowly. Twice clockwise, then four times counterclockwise. He yawned slightly, wondering if he had time to get a drink tonight after the Death Eater meeting. Of course, he reasoned, that was only if he managed to finish this potion before the meeting, so he could hand it to the Dark Lord and make it out in good enough shape to be able to get drunk. He sighed, stirring the potion again. It was going to be a long night.
--
"I'm sending Remus by your apartment tomorrow to pick up my stuff. I hope you are Ginny are very happy. Fucker."
--
He stirred the cereal slowly around his bowl. He waved off Ginny's attempts at fussing over him. He liked quiet breakfast, cereal and coffee and silence. It hadn't been that way with Severus, who had sat opposite him silently, sipping his coffee and eating toast.
--
"Sev, please. This is the fifth time I've called this week. Please, pick up the phone and call me back. Please Severus. I'm worried about you. Just call me and tell me you are all right. Please? One phone call. I'm begging you."
--
He hadn't drunk this much since the first time he had killed someone. He had spent eight and half hours getting thoroughly pissed. He had slept for two days and had woken up with the worst hangover of his life. That was, until, he had been dumped. He glared angrily at the pizza stain on his couch, while downing another glass of Firewhiskey. Maybe he should have just called Harry that first time. Maybe that could have saved everything.
--
Dear Mr. Potter,
I hope this finds you in good health. I am merely writing to tell you of my termination from my job at Hogwarts. I really hate to do this, but remember when I lent you those 500 galleons? I am requesting their return before I find myself living on street.
The best of luck,
Severus
--
Dear Severus,
It's no problem. I've been waiting to hear from you for so long. I'm so sorry about the job. Want to come to Sunday dinner? Andrew keeps asking about you. He was always the most astute of my children.
Awaiting your response,
Harry
--
"Hi, I thought I'd call again because you never answered my owl. I thought maybe we could phone again? Be friends, you know. So call me back. Oh, this is Harry, by the way."
--
"It's Severus. Please just…just leave me alone."
--
The duvet smelled vaguely old, like cologne and shampoo and beer and pizza. Severus hated it. It did, however, wrap around him so completely that he lock the rest of the world out. He sighed heavily. Why did everything end this way? On the couch, almost exactly above the grease stain lay a package with a couple thousand galleons and very expensive firewhiskey. Good riddance, he thought, as he opened the firewhiskey. He couldn't drink it. He just couldn't.
"Good riddance."
--
My dear Severus,
I guess this is goodbye. I'm sorry it had to end this way.
All my best,
Harry J. Potter
