Disclaimer: I do not own anything. It all belongs to J k Rowling, sadly.
A/N: It has been quite a while since I last wrote so I thought I would try and get back into the habit of it again. I think you can guess who it's about and you shall have to read it to find out why. I hope you enjoy it.
Sniff. Sniff.
Interesting.
Old books, potion ingredients, and... wait for it... sherbet lemons?
A slight crease appeared on the wizards brow, causing his already severe face to contort, as though some buffoon had given him something very offensive. Why on earth would someone place sherbet lemons near him? Was it not enough that for the past Merlin-knows how many years that he had complained about the infernal confectionery? Never mind the staff, the House Elves knew not to put it within his line of sight. This little fact greatly annoyed Severus Snape.
Sniff. Sniff.
There it goes again. Brow furrowed, his left eye opened and crooked suspiciously, scanning for the offending objects. Well. That is interesting. The 'interesting' thing had hooked his interest, enough to warrant his right eye to open with even more suspicion, and of course, alertness. Black, cold eyes scanned the office. How odd that he should be in this office, from this angle. Leaning forwards, Severus looked around his old office, checking that all of the jars of formalin were in place, each with the correct ingredient preserved in them. After all, some were hard to come by, and others, he had spent galleons on. Yes, they were all there. A few cauldrons, ladles, his elf-made scalpel set... all there gathering dust. As was the book shelf, and his many books covering the walls. Some old, some new, and by the looks of it, a couple of other additions were added to his 'new' pile.
Moving out from his desk, he went to investigate, just in case they were there to trick him. A port key, perhaps. Or some other sinister enchantment. It would not be the first time, especially after Dolohov sent him a particularly malicious cannibalistic book. Severus still had the scars on his right leg, right next to the one which that beast of a three-headed dog had decided to attack. He bent over, picking up a very old, and dog-eared book, scanning the spine up, and down with his wand.
Hmmm.
The World of the Druids by Monserous Humpadink. The one that he had been searching for most of his adult life has finally come in to his possession. Severus cast the anti-spells wordlessly. There did not appear to be anything wrong with it. The question was; Who? Most likely Albus, as he was the only person to have known that Severus was looking for it. Thinking of the old wizard...
Severus had that very uncanny feeling creep in to his bones, that he was being watched. A feeling so old, that out of his forty-something years, he had learnt to listen to, and most importantly, learn from. Slowly, oh so very slowly, Severus stood fully.
Sniff. Sniff.
A slight echoed clang.
Turning his head, Severus stared around the office. Only, it was not HIS office, well not his OLD office, anyway. It was the headmasters office. Over a hundred other eyes watched his every move. Portraits of every shape and size, some with their neighbours crouched down beside them, drinking whisky, and watching as though he were some kind of attraction at a zoo. Occasionally, one would blink. Or scratch their nose. One went so far as to pass wind, and giggle nervously when Severus's cold, unblinking eyes stared holes in to him. One by one, Severus stared them down. Relentlessly, they stared back at him.
"What?" snapped Severus, as he reached the end of the portraits. Much to his astonishment, the old Headmaster's and Headmistress's broke into applause, and whistled at him.
"About time, young man!" shouted Phineas Nigellus gruffly.
"We knew you had to wake at some point!" cried Dilys.
"Well done, old chap,"
"Marvellous! Simply marvellous!"
"Another addition to our walls!" Severus stared unnerved at this great welcome reception. The crowed eventually died down, and separated back into their own portraits, a low buzz of conversation resounded through the room.
"Hang on! I'm dead?" Severus said irritably, as they moved away from the main attraction.
"You know, for an intelligent wizard such as yourself, you can be awfully dim at times." drawled Phineas.
"I'm afraid you are, Severus," replied a familiar voice. "I shall not tell you how, for that is for the young man who had you made in to a portrait. Harry shall be here tomorrow," Severus dropped the book he was holding. Watching him over his half-moon glasses, with a familiar twinkle in his eyes, was Albus Dumbledore.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you."
"How long have I been dead?" Severus asked coolly, regarding his old Headmaster with a mixture of sadness, and apprehension.
"About fourteen months. You're portrait was hung seven months ago! We thought you would just remain stationary for the rest of our portrait days. It is quite unusual, you see, so we each took a turn to watch you, just in case you finally decided to awake. It was about half an hour ago, Everard noticed you kept twitching, and awoke the rest of our group quietly." Albus replied, with some amusement.
"Yes, I believe I was twitching because someone has put lemon drops in my office. Any clue as to why they are there?" sneered Severus, slowly and deliberately, as he bent to pick up the book, his eyes full of suspicion as the old Headmaster twirled his thumbs absentmindedly.
"How curious. Maybe they were put there in order to bring back memories?" Severus snorted. How ironic. One of the things he hated most while he was alive, was to be bought back in his portrait when he was dead. Typical.
"Well, now they have served their purpose, would you be so kind as to remove them?" Severus drawled, turning back in to his office, scanning his desk for the offending objects.
"Oh, Severus, let an old man have some amusement. Under and over they may be, they may be things you will never see,"
"If your going to be cryptic, I will have no choice to reply in Elf-Latin."
"So be it. I have plenty of time to learn it now I'm dead." grinned Albus, lifting a small book with Elf-Latin for Beginners on the front cover.
"Bah humbug."
"I believe that is still English. Happy hunting!" chuckled Albus, as he wriggled more comfortably in his chair, watching Severus fervently root through his desk.
Just a short little one-shot. I hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it.