The Marionette Hasn't Learned His Lines
Summary: A heated exchange between Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy. No DH Spoilers, slash-seekers look elsewhere and is kept as in-character as possible. ONESHOT that may have the possibility of extension depending on how it goes. NO FLAMES, this is merely an attempt at getting an obsession out of my system.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the HP series.
A/N: Oh, it's been such an awfully long time since I've written anything so apologies in advance since it will probably be OOC and painfully written. This is just a way of getting an obsession out of my system so I can get on with my life. Enjoy.
:: Beginning ::
That evening, Severus' under-the-table dealings consisted of drumming his fingers on the heel of his shoe, while with the other hand he held aloft a book - a particular favourite, The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri - the rhythmic rapping of its partner only pausing to turn one of the worn, yellowing pages or to lift the chilled glass of sherry that sat on the side-table to his lips. His eyes followed the lines on the page, silently deciphering and determining meanings out of each of the words. His mind wandered from vision to vision as the lines formed them, nudging at his numb sense of humour. Dormant muscles twitched as though threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth, clearing his throat, he pushed away the inane sensation.
It should have been dark by then. Long shadows had started to cast off the Whomping Willow earlier that evening as he made his way back to the castle from the greenhouses where he had been checking on newly germinated Shrivelfigs. An oppressive gloom hung over Hogwarts since the morning when a rainy haze situated itself over the castle, binding it's students within its confines. His annoyance had steadily evolved from a mild state of impatience to a heat of resentment as the day dragged on, leaving him with little escape except to indulge himself in the sardonic humour of a classic novel.
He recited to himself in little more than a breath the verse; "Their hands were tied behind by serpents; these had thrust their head and tail right through the loins, and then were knotted on the other side. And-there!-a serpent sprang with force at one who stood upon our shore, transfixing him just where the neck and shoulders form a knot. No o or i has ever been transcribed so quickly as that soul caught fire and burned and, as he fell, completely turned to ashes." His imagination swam with images from the walls of his common room. He watched as serpents bound themselves to the Potter boy's limbs and he was gradually filled with amusement, as though it was slowly leaking into his blood stream drop by drop like an opiate. He watched with growing satisfaction as the boy crumbled. Contentedness crept through him like something he hadn't felt in weeks. Much better, he thought.
After taking another sip of sherry, he hissed out of reflex at the piercing acidity at the back of his jaw; he pushed the lock of limp and oily hair that had fallen tiredly from behind his ear back, winding it lethargically for a moment. He sighed, his thoughts ambling introspectively from the book to the monotony of his day. Something felt different, a contrasting atmosphere seemed to accumulate around him, thickening as the seconds elapsed.
He had felt this before.
BANG - The door leading to his chamber whined on exhausted hinges as it was swung open with a force of twenty rampaging Italian horses.
"…again?" Severus intoned, his eyes still fixated upon the lettering on the jaded page, his spindle-like fingers delicately running along the edge the thinning paper. A dull CLACK, CLIP of heel and cane was the only indication that the guest had made way into the chambers.
"Severus, I have gained knowle-" A pointed digit silenced the incomer as Severus continued uninterrupted in his reading. His mouth curved into a furtive smirk as his eyes flitted from word to word. He could almost feel the heat of fury radiating from the cloaked figure. Snape expertly turned over a page with near-silent precision and persisted in reading.
CLACK CLIP CLACK
Severus snapped closed the novel, holding it nearer to his chest with a sudden jerk, his eyes locked upon the shadow under the dripping hood. Lucius retracted his hand abruptly from his attempt to snatch the book; his blonde hair glued to the rainwater on his chest . It was less that it's usual immaculate condition, to say the least. Severus' eyes much resembled a hawk's after selecting it's prey.
"… Don't. You. Dare."
" My my.. Flustered, aren't we?" Pushing back the black hood he gave a callous grin, though his eyes remained humourless. "Well, since I have your attention… May I?" Without waiting for reply he poured himself a generous glass of sherry and seated himself eloquently in a rigid looking armchair next to the cold hearth. "I have something of great importance to discuss with you, Severus."
"And I with you."
"The allegiance has been made. The Order is running out of places to hide and soon they will be forced to reveal themselves. They have failed where we have succeeded. The Giants have come to an agreement, in our favour. Did Dumbledore really think that, that ..filth of a gamekeeper could negotiate and execute the task?" Lucius laughed, apparently revelling in the ludicrousness of the very idea. "Not as wise as people give him credit for, I say."
"Quite. And what of Draco? Does he still intend to acquire the Mark?" His tone was sharper than he expected. His eyes never left the calm stoniness of Lucius'. Surveying his movements, he could see the conflict the subject caused inside Malfoy; his leather clad hand tightened on the snake head of his cane. Severus could almost hear the squeaking of the material around his knuckles at it stretched.
"He knows his own mind, Severus. You know this as well as I do. He would not disappoint his family."
"His 'own mind' is fragile, Lucius. Impressionable. I fear that he will come to a decision that is not in his best interests for the sake of small rewards. I have seen it before," Severus' fingertips gently thumbed along the spine of the book balancing precariously on his crossed legs, the impatience slowly building in the pit of his stomach.
"That is none of your concern," hissed Lucius, his cheeks colouring slightly. Quickly composing himself, he retied the top fastening of his cloak. His eyes were hollow; a silent warning on Snape's behalf.
"It is my business, Lucius, whether you are prepared to admit it or not," Severus said confidently, raising to his feet and walking over to the mahogany drinks cabinet where he dispensed himself another glass of sherry. "He is my student."
"He is my son. He is a Malfoy." His anger was masked by pride as he said it.
"Exactly. Would you have him grovel at the Dark Lord's feet when his errors start to emerge? He is yet to see fear and pain that He can bestow upon those who fail Him, Lucius, he is your son. Your heir. Your blood. He is young, Lucius, and you are not. Your guidance is the one thing that can lead to his survival," He spoke through clenched teeth with impatience, his body tense as he swirled the sherry in his glass, allowing the aroma to wash over him.
"You realise the position I am in-" Lucius began, his voice searching for a justification for his actions.
"Excuses cannot condone his death. You know as well as I."
"I will not be held responsible for Draco's decisions, Severus. He is old enough."
"A father, Lucius, is supposed to be wiser than his son. If you are saying that your son is wiser than you, I pity you." Severus could feel his guest's gaze burning into the back of his head. His breathing was pulsating to a faster tempo.
"Pity..? Incredulity I gather -" Spat Lucius, getting to his feet. His heels CLACKing on the stone floor.
"I more than pity you, I bleed for you, Lucius. That the Dark Lord can manipulate you in such a way that your son becomes little more than a pawn."
"How - How dare you? You and - and your-" His eyes were wide and manic, his hair knotted slightly; a complete contrast to his usual composed and perfect self.
"The marionette hasn't learned his lines," Snape scowled, his sentence punctuated with a hardened glare, something which felt like a dry concern filled him. He lowered himself back into the threadbare seat and took a slow sip of his sherry, apprehension playing in his eyes. He watched with a captured curiosity as the chief Malfoy seethed with an enraged perplexity.
Not another word was spoken as Lucius pulled on his hood and stormed out with a heavy clack clip clack and the door was pulled shut with a muffled thud. Severus allowed himself a sigh and turned back to the page in the book he was reading before he was interrupted, his fingertips continued the rhythm on the heel of his shoe, a frown regained its place between his eyes and he muttered; "He should know better." A friend, a father, a servant. He should know better.
:: Fin ::
A/N: Wow, I actually finished something. I know it's not very long and it could be better but.. Meh. I can't be bothered. First of all, I'd just like to thank GuTTerArT and Dreaminoflorien for their help in this piece, since I bugged them endlessly about it.
Oh, and the "He should know better" bit is referring to the snatching of his book, because, if you he hadn't none of this would have happened. But.. Whatever. Use your imagination, it could apply to a lot within this piece.