After supper, Severus retrieved his notebook from upstairs and settled himself on the couch with his mother. She was anxiously awaiting her husband's return and didn't seem to notice his presence.

Tobias was late, now later than Severus was the previous evening, and his meal was cold. He was going to throw a fit, unless he was too drunk to notice, which probably wasn't possible.

However, he would be too drunk to be reasonable.

Severus discreetly cast a warming charm on the untouched plate of supper then headed upstairs. He hoped for minimal shouting while he tried to sleep.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

He popped out of bed in the twilight of the morning and (quietly) tore open his closet door.

Thunk.

"Shhh." He hissed. "If father wakes up because of you, I will banish you somewhere faraway and unpleasant with no one to torment, the Ministry be damned!"

Thunk.

Severus growled, lugging his occupied trunk out to the middle of the floor and contemplated for a moment what he could do with the blasted thing.

Thunk.

He removed most of his clothes from the small space and placed them on his bed. He then swiftly dumped the contents of his trunk, which had no chance to take a solid shape, into the nearly empty closet and closed the door quickly but refrained from slamming it.

"Happy now?" He whispered.

Some shuffling could be heard on the other side of the door as well as the shifting of the clothing he left inside that he had no intention of wearing again. Then it settled somewhere on the left side, no longer thumping about and not trying to break free of its new, slightly larger, prison...yet. He cast a quick locking ward on the door, just in case.

Well...now he was awake, far earlier than he needed or wanted to be.

Severus then cleared his room of any and everything school related and packed it neatly in his trunk. His robes were left out, but those were in need of replacing anyway. Shrinking the trunk to a manageable size and stuffing it under his bed, he then turned his focus to finding a new home for his clothes.

The drawer he half emptied would have to do. The remaining contents of odds and ends were placed in the empty section of the bookshelf to be gone through at a later time, then he stuffed the clothes scattered on his bed inside the vacant space.

There, that was acceptable until he found a better solution.

Severus sighed in exasperation, then looked to his closet. "You are a menace." He murmured.

Quickly and quietly dressing himself, he then made his way downstairs.

Tobias was in a heap in his chair, dead to the world. Severus sighed in relief and returned upstairs to finish getting ready.

Work was mostly uneventful. Mr. Courtney had a longer absence than usual in the mid-morning and during so Mr. Fitzpatrick, Tobias' boss if memory served, was having none of Park's explanation that they were simply out of sirloin. Severus ended up taking the annoyingly persistent man to the back room to show him there simply was none available at this time and that he could come back tomorrow, for they were expecting a steer that evening.

Severus arrived home in the afternoon and found that his mother had put together lunch for them.

"How was work?" She asked.

"Fine. I would say Mr. Fitzpatrick is the most high strung man in this town."

"Few would argue that. I dare say even your father would agree." She cleared her throat. "I noticed how quiet your room was today, when did you find your boggart a new home?"

"I released it in my closet this morning, it's still up there."

She frowned. "And how is your werewolf project going?"

He paused. "Why the sudden interest in my activities?"

"I am re-aquainting myself with my son. I missed about twenty years."

"Ah, well nothing too exciting has happened since our...recap." He shifted. "But it's looking promising. Unfortunately I won't know until I can actually apply my findings...and then test them."

"Have a werewolf on standby, do you?"

"Not sure yet. I haven't an owl."

"I see…" She chewed on a bite and swallowed. "How much do you think the ingredients of a sobering potion would be?"

He looked over to her in mild surprise. "Too much, since the recipient would just continue to drink afterwards."

She pursed her lips. "He needs to stop, just long enough to have a civil conversation. He can't go on like this, he'll-"

"He won't, not of his own accord." Severus added when she didn't continue.

"I hope you're not suggesting..."

He suppressed a laugh, it ended up sounding more like a scoff. "Certainly not. I wouldn't use an unforgivable on Father, he's not worth the time in Azkaban."

Eileen crossed her arms in annoyance. "Any ideas then, oh brilliant son of mine?"

Severus ran through a few scenarios in his head and decided on the best one. "Put a potion in his morning coffee. Something that makes anything containing alcohol taste horrid."

"And where might one find such a potion?"

"It doesn't exist…Perhaps you could invent it, or ask your 'brilliant son' to do so?"

"That's…-" Eileen studied him intently. "Could you?"

Severus ran a finger along his chin. His stubble was returning and he sighed inwardly at the (literally) growing inconvenience. "In theory."