So Much Less Of A Fool Than I. (Chapter 3.5 of Midnight Confessions)
By alloy
He pauses.
The man who has everything and so-so much to lose pauses, waiting obviously for the rest of the Order to disperse.
"I wanted to thank you, Severus. That is, Molly and I want to thank you. We realize your position is a difficult one, and the risks you take are great." He pauses, not used to my indifferent silence. "I doubt anyone other than the headmaster thanks you for the job you're doing."
Dumbledore has never done this, oh he mouths words of courtesy, a habit he long ago cultivated, and one which has served him so well, but he has never truly thanked me.
No one has ever done what Arthur Weasley has just done, almost no one.
I do not take compliments well, reluctantly I force a reply. "Thank you, Arthur."
"Um, well yes. I'd best be on my way, wouldn't want Molly to worry."
It escapes me before I can stifle it, a burning question.
"Why are you here, Arthur?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Why are you here? You're not a fighting man. Not like your father. You have a wife, children, so much to lose."
"Severus?"
I lean forward. "Yours is the oldest wizarding family in England, arguably the purest blood, the Dark Lord would welcome you and your family with open arms."
"The price would be too high."
"Do nothing then, let your heritage grant you immunity."
Arthur glances about and drags a chair closer.
"The price of that has already been too high."
"How so?"
"Molly's brothers, the Longbottoms', the Potters', a host of others, because Molly and I thought it wasn't our fight."
"Do you think you could have helped them? Save those lives when even Dumbledore failed?"
"I didn't even try, Severus. I chose a path a least resistance."
A path of least resistance, in my case pushed by anger, hatred and spite, and how I've paid the price.
"And yet now you have more to lose. Your wife, your children."
"We no longer have a choice, Severus."
"Gryffindor!" I spit out.
He grins wanly. "We're not known for our brains." He glances around as if his wife were listening over his shoulder. "Just our balls." He guffaws nervously.
I essay a smile, trying not to grimace.
"Why would a Slytherin oppose 'You Know Who?'
"Revenge," I reply. "What other motivation could there be?"
He knows me well enough to pry no further, he makes as if to stand.
Suddenly I don't want him to.
"Your son." I say. "Seems to have recovered from his near death experience."
Arthur smiles warmly in response. "That's good to hear."
"Well enough it seems, to fraternize with the opposite sex."
The smile falters. "That." He says. "Is something of an issue. I can't say Molly and I are thrilled with his choices."
"How curious." I say. "From you of all people."
"We won't prescribe to him of course, but I honestly don't think there's any depth to the relationship."
I wonder for a moment if this Arthur is some sort of imposter.
"They're just not suited."
"Are you blind?" I blurt out, suddenly aware that my emotional response is singularly inappropriate.
In my mind I see the boy, callow, ignorantly defying me in front of the crying girl.
"The Browns' are a fine family." He mumbles. "A fine family, but they're never mixed well with us Weasleys."
"What are you talking about? What Browns'?"
"Lavender Brown." He says. "Blonde, little top heavy, according to Ginny."
I do not, for the life of me, understand what he is talking about. "Who?"
"Your student, Lavender Brown, Ron's Girlfriend."
"Nonsense!" I reply. "I lost a small fortune to Minerva because a ghost witnessed your son in a compromising position with Hermione Granger in the prefects bathroom."
An obscenely happy grin covers his freckled face. "Really?"
"Really. I wouldn't pay Minerva until I had interrogated the ghost myself."
"But at Christmas he was involved with Lavender Brown."
I suddenly recall a vain vacuous girl. "Whatever for?" I ask. "Granger is far better suited to him. Any fool can see that."
"Perhaps he couldn't?" Arthur ventures.
"Contrary to what I may have told him, your son is no fool."
Yet, if what Arthur says is true Ronald had taken up with the Brown girl.
Arthur stands abruptly. "I really must go." He says. "Molly will want to know about Ron and Hermione."
I hadn't noticed. The three most important children in my care, and I overlooked this.
"Goodbye Severus." He says almost absently mindedly and disapparates away.
I recall paying Minerva feeling the closest to happiness in sixteen years.
A couple so obviously suited from the very outset.
Yet this dalliance, this indulgence with Lavender Brown? How much pain must that have caused Granger? How much the risk of driving your one true love to another's arms?
Perhaps Draco's foolish poison mead was really a correcting hand of fate?
Judging from Myrtle's gleeful gossip the boy has more than succeeded in making amends.
It makes young Ronald Weasley so much less of a fool than I.
Fin.
