Writing Club
Cat Day – Write about Minerva McGonagall
Themed List – Cobweb
Halloween Party: Cluedo
Minerva McGonagall, Spinner's End, Sherbet Lemon
Sherbet Lemons and Nostalgia
With a flick of Minerva's wand, the door to Spinner's End creaked open, and she stepped into the cottage. She'd finally found the time to clear it of Severus' effects, much as she was loathe to. A thick layer of dust coater every inch of every surface, cobwebs clogged up ceiling corners and there was a distinct stench of mould, even the more noticeable to her enhanced senses, one side effect of years of transforming herself into a cat.
She sighed. "Sometimes, I wish you hadn't been quite so good at your job," she said aloud. Perhaps, wherever he was, Severus could hear her. Perhaps not. "You've left me a right bloody mess to clear up… you, and him."
Minerva snorted at her own fancifulness, and got to work. Conjuring brooms, mops, cloths and buckets she began conducting an orchestra of soapy water that danced to the flick of her wand. She started in the cramped and poorly lit corridor she'd first stepped into, before moving into the study, and on from there. No doubt Severus would be appalled at the condition the house was in, if only because he hadn't been the one to see it to its desolate state. The house felt almost as if it was content in its disorder. The walls groaned, threatening to collapse with every cleaning spell she sent their way, almost as if the entire building was held up by a potent mixture of stubbornness and filth.
It was in the spare bedroom, hidden beneath a loose floorboard she'd only managed to find because she stepped on it and nearly tripped, that Minerva found the bags of sherbet lemons.
There were fifteen separate bags, bound in the same translucent, gossamer wrap that Albus had always used to gift them in. Every staff member had received the same present each year.
An emerald green ribbon tied the bags off, and attached to each of them was a note. 'Merry Christmas, Severus. Yours truly, Albus,' read the first.
Minerva covered her mouth with shaking fingers. A teardrop trickled down her cheek and splashed onto the dirty floor, staining it even darker.
Every note on each bag contained a variation of the same message, but Albus' words grew kinder and fonder as the years continued on. His final gift must have been given to Severus in the winter of 1996; 'Merry Christmas, Severus. I have never doubted your resolve, your loyalty, nor your intelligence a single day since you came into my employ. Your faithful and undeserving friend, Albus.'
Minerva placed the bag gently back beneath the flooring, hidden away once more. She cast the strongest preservation charm she knew over them, and replaced the floorboard. It was only then that she allowed herself a single sob, before gasping in a shaky breath, forcing herself to calm.
Severus Snape had been a terribly harsh man in life, but he had also been terribly undervalued. She only wished that he were still alive, so that he could enjoy the freedom that he had bought them all.
Word Count: 509