Bumblebee Blood
This is the fifth and final rewrite of this damnable chapter which has twisted and squirmed whenever I have attempted to approach it, so here I am. Determined to write it! I have finally found an angle I am happy with.
~ SS19
Chapter Four:
Diagon Alley was busy at midday, Albus Dumbledore thought to himself as he cut through the crowds sleekly and headed toward the apothecary on the corner between Knockturn Alley and the mainstream street. He was wandering, but practically invisible so he was not stopped. He did not care for publicity today. People would demand answers from him, and he was not willing to give them. He pulled his hood back and stepped into the apothecary, letting the door swing closed behind him and focusing on the dark shelves and even darker corners of the shadowy shop. He was here to pick up something for Severus — although he was not sure what, just yet. It was supposed to be a surprise, after all.
The boy was awake and back in his office — he had woken at eleven o clock that morning, and had been quiet. Moreso than usual. Severus was always subdued when he returned from Death-Eater meetings, but this was a different sort of quiet. He had hardly spoken to Albus, and had spent a long time in the Headmaster's en-suite bathroom. Albus hadn't been able to hear anything, but after Severus had left — a peculiar shade of white — he had a terrible feeling that the other had been throwing up. Which was most unusual. But Albus had let him go, knowing that Severus preferred to be alone when emotionally unstable.
He saw it as a weakness, showing emotion. Albus understood him enough to let him go. He hated to infringe on the other's solace, anyway.
The jars of pickling animals and shelves filled with various herbs and liquids in tiny glass bottles were not particularly inspiring. He was an accomplished potioneer, of course, but sometimes he felt out of his depth when Severus decided to experiment with something new.
"Much choice, is there not?"
Albus turned to see who had spoken to him - a hunchbacked woman was stood watching him, holding a basket that seemed to be filled with eyeballs. She saw him looking, "Predicting the unknown." This was her offer of explanation, and Albus realised she was a Seer — or at least, someone who claimed to see the future. He nodded vaguely in her direction. He was not fond of Seers, except those he had a personal affinity for, such as Sybil. He believed that most were frauds, who liked to scaremonger and cause much havoc.
"You are looking for someone." She said, prompting him to look at her again. "Isn't everyone?" He replied, as airily as possible. The eyes in the basket seemed to be watching him, and he felt slightly unsettled.
"Someone important. The Prince. He has the answer." She tilted her head to one side, "I see a black future. Do not flinch, Professor Albus Dumbledore. Flinch, and you will lose your most precious possession."
"Prince? What Prince?" There were no princes in the wizarding world, of that, Albus was sure.
"Yes, indeed. The Prince. The Prince of Wands. Or perhaps the Prince of Swords." She seemed to be rambling to herself, as she shuffled away. Albus watched her go, before looking back to the shelves.
"Can I help you, sir?" The apothecary owner had finally returned, and glared at Albus in the dim light.
"Prince of Wands. Or perhaps the Prince of Swords." Albus turned his head and watched where the woman had once stood. He did not like to believe Seers. But. He finally remembered where he was, and why he was there, "Yes. I wonder if you could help me…"
Albus had returned to Hogwarts after one beaker of whiskey in the Leaky Cauldron, so he was later than expected. Minerva greeted him in the hallway, and he politely enquired after Severus.
"I have not seen him." She said in response. "He left some notes for his seventh years, but has no other lessons this afternoon, so I assume he is brewing." She did not sound particularly concerned. Albus narrowed his eyes. Something was concerning him, about Severus and his behaviour. Usually, the boy was desperate to return to teaching — and hated leaving his classes alone because they misbehaved. His seventh years was his favourite class, too. He diverted from his original path and headed into the dungeons, checking his pocket watch, wondering if Severus had eaten that afternoon. He hesitated outside Severus' door.
The wards were strong. Incredibly strong. Albus was not sure if he could penetrate them — clearly, Severus did not wish to be disturbed. He knocked, instead, "Severus? I went to the apothecary in Diagon Alley and brought something back for you…" Bribery and corruption, he smirked, as he looked up and down the draughty dungeon corridor and wondered if installing enchanted windows really would ruin the atmosphere, as Severus so vehemently stated. There seemed to be no response. "Severus?" Maybe Severus was not in his office — although — the wards suggested he wanted to be alone. Albus did not like these mood swings, "Severus, do not make me force my way in."
Still nothing. He raised one eyebrow at the door handle, allowing Severus one final moment to reveal himself. He had to smile — he was picturing the eleven-year-old boy who had entered Hogwarts such a long time ago. Albus would never have been able to tell, back then, that Severus would become quite so important to him. He remembered, almost fondly, the nickname Severus had made for himself. The Half-Blood Prince, inscribed into the front of his textbooks, and even though he imagined the teachers did not know who it was, they clearly did.
It was then that it hit him.
"He used to call me his dark prince. In a tarot deck, I assume that would be the Prince of Swords."
"I thought you did not care for tarot."
"I don't. But the Dark Lord did."
Could it…no…that was simply not possible…could the answer to his query truly lie with Severus? No. He would know, surely, if Severus was…it was just a Seer, she would never be able to — but then how would she know that Severus had referred to himself as the Prince of Swords? Why choose that particular…
His thoughts were interrupted when the door was pulled open and he was confronted with Severus.
Severus who was shaking violently, white faced, and red eyed. Albus looked at him, alarmed, "Severus?"
Severus stared at him for a long moment. Then he spoke, and his voice was the harshest of whispers. "I killed someone last night."
