Day: Ten
Chapter: Twenty
Chapter Title: That's... Different
Time and Date: Tuesday 23 Oct, 11am
"So." Dumbledore looked annoyed.
He was annoyed; that much had been obvious for the past three months. However now he looked really annoyed.
Well; it was hardly his fault if he couldn't remember, was it? How was he supposed to know when his arm hurt he was meant to magically teleport to the presiding Darth Vader's evil mansion.
'I mean, Seriously? Oh wait, no, sorry 'Sirius'ly? Now that, seriously, is a seriously. Who names their child 'sirius'?'
"Pardon?" He asked; now receiving a look of pity from Dumbledore.
'It must be some kind of running joke; all the mothers deciding to ruin their children's lives by naming them something awful.'
Dumbledore sighed, and behind him, at the window; Minerva put her head in her hands.
'Yes, I know. I have the attention-span of one of your precious first years. I have the magical intelligence of a 'miggle'. I have the power of not your favoured potions master but instead some 'Lockheart' I keep getting referred to by the students. Knowing the students 'Lockheart' was probably some mentally deranged idiot but...'
"You have to understand, Severus."
The man in question almost smirked at the sound of (what was apparently) his name, it was almost as good as 'Sirius', in the silliness aspect.
"The Dark Lord is not one to be taken lightly. He is a murderer! It it vital that you remain in character else he will suspect that something is wrong and act harshly and without reason. He is dangerous, and you acting suspiciously will pique his interest; making him realise that you are not yourself!" Dumbledore scolded; as if Severus could bring back his memories if he only tried harder to remember,
It wasn't that Severus was being deliberately difficult, but he didn't remember; and thus didn't know what he was meant to do or how to act.
And people kept treating him like they would a sick and needy child. He was not a child. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
But how was he supposed to act around this mass murderer; who in his mind should be locked away; not allowed to run around on a killing spree. And Severus was supposed to spy, to be pretend to be in league with this Mass Murderer.
All Severus could do was glare; there was nothing else to be done really.
He too sighed, because really- what else was to be done in such an impossible situation? It wasn't that he didn't want to help- he just... couldn't seem to do the right thing.
He felt his face glowing hot but didn't really care, he just put it down to his growing awkwardness and embarrassment, as he hopelessly tried once more to explain he just didn't understand; just couldn't remember..
Minerva was standing at the window, and at the point she turned around; to try and explain to the confused man in simple terms what Albus was failing to communicate; she noticed Severus and his paling face.
"Are you feeling OK?" She asked, coming over to put a hand on his shoulder.
At her touch his body just went limp; just fell. No warning; no flicker of lost light in his eyes just 'Bahm!' And Severus Out.
