Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters are not mine. This has huge spoilers for Deathly Hallows (carpetbook, which is hopefully fake), so read at your own discretion. I thought it was bloody awful. What happened to Snape? Wussified. Blah. So it's short, and I likely won't do any more Deathly Hallows stuff.
Albus is Albus Severus, not Dumbledore. Him and Scorpius are next-gen spawn from the leak.
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Indignity
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"Is he here?" Scorpius said quietly, wand drawn. "Albus, go watch the door."
"He wasn't acknowledged," Albus said back. "Nothing's here, is it? You just got me out of bed 'cus you're a money-grabber. There's no portrait of Snape."
After a while Scorpius deigned to talk.
"Nonsense," he said. "Father told me he was a great Headmaster."
"So? Mine did too."
Then a cold voice said, "You."
It made the others flinch. As Albus raised his wand he imagined some towering person (for his mind was on Scorpius's promise of free Galleons) and was rewarded when light shone on a large oak frame. The picture was of a man, dressed head to toe in black. And his hair was black. Though his face was pale. Mismatched.
"I should have expected Potter's spawn to prowl where they're unwanted," said the portrait. "Go home, before I lose what patience remains. I am nobody's figure of fun."
"Well, I could say the same to you," said a second voice, and an aged wizard came into view. "Really, Severus. You've been warned over wandering round other's frames without permission. They are showing an interest. I thought you'd be glad."
"Since when have I needed permission for anything, Headmaster?"
"You're… you're Albus Dumbledore," said Scorpius.
"Not at all. I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
"Manipulative," said Severus.
"Oh you're just jealous."
"I know what you want, Snape," said Dippet's portrait. "We all do."
"Oh? I'd like to know how."
"Don't play innocent," interrupted Phineas. "You've been whining like a child about nothing else for no end. No wonder Minerva fled her office. I have to admit it, Snape. You really have a way with the girls. I'm sure James is looking down in amusement."
And the Slytherin looked at Dumbledore.
Snape, thinking of what to say, announced, "Well, I want a damn portrait."
"Don't forget the Order of Merlin," said Dumbledore.
"Like it'll matter now."
Dumbledore mumbled slightly and choked on a lemon drop, Snape rolling his eyes as his arms crossed. The elder wizard could do nothing but tolerate Snape's presence as he replaced the lemon drop with a soft mallow, looked around, and caught the eye of Phineas. If only this plan worked Snape would be out on his ear, or bothering some other poor unfortunate frame down in the corridor. But Snape was deceitful, and that bothered Phineas, who had formerly enjoyed the title of 'Proud Hogwarts Miser'.
Albus had called the man 'Snape', and that name triggered memories. His namesake had been one of the greatest headmasters that had lived. And he, according to his father, was a tremendous man. If this were he, Albus wanted to know why.
"And who are you?" said Albus.
"None of your business."
So far, so useless.
"Come on, boy! You're as vapid as that old lemon loving fool. Honestly, all the Sorting Feast desserts have rotted your brains. They should ban the stupid nonsense. Run a proper school."
Albus didn't like the sound of that, nor did Dippet. Though Dumbledore one knew Snape was joking. Phineas even nodded in approval.
"That other one" Albus said quietly. "Least he was acknowledged Headmaster."
"That's fifty points from Gryffindor," Snape said.
There was silence.
"Severus," said Dumbledore softly. "You can't take points now you're dead,"
"Ah, but you're happy enough to suck lemons. Funny that."
"Would you stop moaning?" said Phineas.
"You'll get yours, one of these days. Though, not if you give me my portrait."
"Now, you know I can't do that," said Dumbledore.
Snape spat. "I'll get Peeves involved," he threatened.
"Don't be ridiculous," said Phineas.
"I told you, I'm dead. I have all the time in the world, you stupid piece of creativity. I'm hardly in the mood to be kind. Nor would I have ever given that boy permission to use my name for something so… so..."
"Despicable?" said Scorpius.
"Exactly," said Snape. "Ten points to Slytherin. How's your father, by the way?"
Albus muttered an expletive speech and Scorpius heard pacing, heels grinding stone one step after another. They came to a stop, and he saw a look on Snape's face of utmost anticipation, as if someone was going to 'get theirs', as he'd succulently put it. The door opened, and through it came Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress.
"Snape, others told me you were here. Didn't I warn you the last time," she said. "Make sure you're gone within the hour. Albus wants his rest."
"And can't you see I'm talking, Minerva? Age has obviously battered your patience as well as your face."
"I see it's not changed you at all. One of the greatest headmasters that ever lived, indeed," Minerva said, and she gave a small laugh. "Potter sure has a sense of humour."
"Yes, poor Potter, with his poorly painted portrait in the Ministry. My heart bleeds."
Albus thought that Scorpius would later say all bets were off, on account of unforeseen forces, and wondered whether he'd arranged it like that with Snape for the sole purpose of extortion. The two were in Slytherin; had been, in Snape's case. He was sure financial robbery was a forte of theirs. His father had told him Snape was the bravest man he'd met – he'd left out cunning. And yet, he was more concerned with dead people than live ones.
"Severus, will you be off soon?" asked Dippet.
"Depends," said Snape. "Will my portrait be here?"
He paused, and then added, "Obviously not. So you're stuck with me, gentlemen."
Minerva's face started to turn the same colour as her tartan, and her fingers flexed and clenched as Snape was checking his nails.
"Severus!"
With a slight jerk of the head, Snape turned and exited right, and several of the portraits, Dippet mostly, gave sighs of relief. But Scorpius noticed the downturned look on Dumbledore's face. It was as if he enjoyed the time they spent together. He knew Snape had one interest – he wanted that portrait. Though, Snape had one final message:
"Fine, fine. I know when I'm not wanted. Though one would think one of the 'greatest headmasters that ever lived' would never be treated in such a slipshod manner. But if you think that's acceptable, Minerva, then by all means shoo a poor old man out his home. It'd not be the first time." Snape looked at Albus. "Consider yourself lucky. I'd be careful, though – we wouldn't want any accidents, would we?"
