Title: Looking for what?
Author: Qwerty.
Disclaimer: Not mine, dûh!
Dedicated to Fantine Black, because she's far away bravely spreading our strange way of thinking around the world (or in Berlin anyway…). Some latin to see if she can still do it. Though I think she already knows it, but okay done now on to the story.
"In omnibus requiem queasy, et nusquam inveni nisi in angulo cum libro." Umberto Eco, The name of the rose.
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Staggering Severus Snape had to admit that after twenty-something years of calling this place home and loyally defending it against hostile or unintelligent intruders (aka gryffindors), he had in fact been betrayed. He rested for a moment against the cold and, to anyone else, forbidding walls.
He knew that it her eyes he had not yet earned enough respect not to led this happen. In her eyes he had just arrived here. In the eyes of Hogwarts herself he was not yet worthy to go by unpranked. So here he stood, well hung, because for the last six hours he had been wandering about his own dungeons absolutely and utterly lost.
It was not his fault that those bloody "students", with air quotation marks Snape-style, had once more blown his classroom to bits. They had been lucky to get out unharmed. He had stalked off because he was dead sure he would have lynched someone, namely a black-haired, green eyed monster, and he knew Dumbledore frowned slightly upon such a practise.
So he had made his dramatic exit, bellowing back that all of them had three months worth of detention with Filch. He stalked without a purpose for a while thinking about nothing as a whole and murder in specific. He didn't know how long is was until he realized he was on the outscurts of the known dungeon area. The dungeons where so vast that no one knew exactly how big they where or what lay in there depths.
Slowly his stalk had changed to a brisk walk and then as he sought on his walk changed to a normal walk. He was amazed he could have gotten so lost. Finally having to rest Severus spotted an old door. Wand at the ready, for this was unknown territory, he open the door expecting perhaps an abandoned classroom or such.
Instate he found a comfortable if dusty sitting room with bookcases lining the walls. There where no windows in this room, he figured he was down to deep for that. The one free wall held a fireplace.
As soon as he stepped into the room, the lights came on, giving him a good scare. He jumped and backed into one of the bookcases causing it to waddle and produce an unfathomed amount of dust. Coughing badly he was very glad indeed that none had seen his slip-up for he was sure he would haven never lived it down.
Deciding the room was safe, he settled into the chair in front of the fireplace. With a nonchalant wave of his wand a fire sprang to life. His chair proved very comfortable and looking around he spotted a cabinet. He could have sworn it wasn't there before.
Suspicious all over again, he looked around the room carefully before slowly standing and advancing on the poor cabinet in a manner that would have made even a fourth year feel very faint indeed.
As soon as he was in range, he swiftly pulled out his wand and poked the table with it. The ancient wood made a squeaking noise he somehow imagined sounded offended. He was hard pressed not to apologize. Even more slowly he tiptoed to the cabinet. Kneeling down he took a breath before opening one of the doors and peering in.
He couldn't see a thing, darn it. Oops forgot to light his wand, "what am I blond now?" he silently wondered. Lighting his wand and pointing it ahead of his into the darkness he made a delightful discovery. The cabinet was filled with age old whisky! It somehow reminded him of his father, bless him.
The good old guy had saved a damn fine bottle of whisky for the day he came home the World's youngest ever Potions Master. That day had been one of the happiest days of his life. He had come home to find his complete family there to congratulate him. They'd all stayed for diner and drinks.
>flashback
It was about four o'clock when he came home completely worn out but very excited. He had been assured by the examiner that it was just a case of a few signatures and he would have his masters. He was as of now, unofficially until the ceremony next month, England's and probably the worlds youngest potions master.
Walking up the lawn he waved to the neighbour who was de-gnoming his garden. Opening the front door he was disappointed to learn there was nobody home. Well his family where all quite busy people, but still he had been hoping there would be someone there for him to tell such good news to.
Signing he sat down in his favourite chair near the window facing the garden. Soon he felt his dog at his feet, so as he absently patted her head he told her how well it had gone. As soon as he had said it he heard loud pops and laughter. As he looked over his shoulder he saw his entire family appearing for their hiding places. His three sisters immediately stormed to him and nearly suffocated him in their hugs and kisses, as his parents looked on with tears of joy and pride in their eyes.
His mother had cooked for everybody there and they ate at one large table his father had conjured on the front lawn. Neighbours and friends dropped by. Some to eat, some just to congratulate him, other just for drinks or to bring a present. The table had to be enlarged several times.
Slowly everybody had left, the party was broken up and his sisters and mother had gone to bed, leaving him with his father. They had sat for a while, just looking at the stars and thinking.
Then at midnight his father had gotten up. Severus had reluctantly followed his example, for he did not yet want this day to end. But slowly his father turned to him, "Son" he had said, "Son, there is something I want to share with you. I have been keeping it for a very long time hoping that one day I would know it was the day for it to be opened." At that his father had summoned an old bottle to him. Smiling he said to his only son "I bought this bottle the day I met your mother and after what you have achieved today I would drink it only with you, Severus, my son."
Blinking against the tears forming in his eyes he looked at his father. The only thing he could think of to say was I'd be honoured, so he choked that out. His father looked at him with such pride Severus knew he would never be happier than in this exact moment. They sat together, drank and talked until the bottom of the bottle was reached the next morning as the sun was rising. Holding each other up, they'd staggered into the house, not even bothering to go up the stairs to bed, just crashing into a couch each and snoring contently.
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Severus signed as he remembered the waking his mother had given them both only a few precious hours later. Smiling fondly he grabbed a bottle and a glass before returning to his seat for a nice meeting with Mister Bottle and Madame Memory.
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Okay, I could say I didn't like reviews but that's like saying Draco would like to have red hair… Please review to save poor Draco. ;)