Brief British Cultural Notes:
A curriculum vitae, known as a CV (British English) is a resume (American English)
Also, in this Chapter Severus plays the First Movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Unfortunately it won't let me save the link in full in the story so I recommend, if you'd like to listen, the version by Rousseau on Youtube. The First Movement is until 6:57. It Feel free to go on Youtube and add the below:
/watch?v=4591dCHe_sE
Chapter Six
On Trees and Tittering
"Very well- I shall come. My Lord."
"Oh, I do hope so. But not before me!"
"Very well. My Lord."
In his passive aggression, Severus Snape gave a bow so deep as to be worthy of one of Lucius Malfoy's. He turned to address the class.
"You will continue to read and take notes until either you have finished chapter 42-"
"We're on chapter 26, Sir!"
"- Chapter 26, or until the lesson finishes! Lawson!"
"Yes Sir?"
"I previously called you an insufferable know it all. I retract that statement."
"Really Sir? Thank you Sir!"
The young man appeared to be genuinely pleased.
"You are evidently a moron. Have masochistic tendencies. Or both. Detention for a month of Sundays! And I am not merely using an expression in common parlance by way of exaggeration! Oh for God's- How on earth do you hope to pass your OWL, boy?! Someone explain to him what I just said! Since he is evidently oblivious!"
Since he considered himself to be the best in the class, George Lawson was speechless. Bullying, he took as a given. But insults to his intelligence?!
Tim Nice But Dim was his soubriquet. As in 'he means well'. And 'he tries so hard. Bless him!'
"Sir! What do we do if we finish the chapter before-"
"Shut it, Ludlow! Another fifteen points from Slytherin for interrupting! Greengrass. You're in charge."
"Oooh, it's Greengrass now, is it? Not Miss?! Trying to be all detached and protective, are we?"
Lord Voldemort grinned.
"Since you are incapable of fixing a mere piano by yourself, and apparently require my immediate assistance to frivolously fritter away your time, I condescend to come!"
"Oh, stop being a bore and come and sort it out. And then I'll sort you out!"
"Oh for fuck's sake, does that one track mind of yours ever stop thinking about-"
Sex, he had been about to say.
Master and servant apparated away. Side-along style.
The room was silent. For a few seconds.
Then. Someone broke it.
"VOL-DY AND SNI-VVY SITTING IN A TREE! HAV-ING SEX AT HALF PAST THREE!"
Hysterical laughter broke out.
"FIRST COMES LOVE, THEN COMES MARRIAGE! THEN COMES THE BABY IN THE BABY CARRIAGE!"
"Don't be an idiot, Brennan!" snapped Daphne. "And what are you, a little kid? I haven't heard anyone chant that since I was about seven."
Claudia Brennan paused.
Then:
"DAPH-NE AND SNI-VVY SITTING IN A TREE!"
It sounded like the whole room laughed. And joined in with gusto.
Daphne buried her head in her hands.
Her fellow Fifth Years wasted no time in all piling in to taunt her. From both Houses.
"Miss? MISS! Can I go to the toilet, Miss?"
"Can I come to the wedding?! Professor?!"
"THAT'S NOT ALL! THAT'S NOT ALL! THE BA-BY'S DRIN-KING AL-CO-HOL!"
A terrible cliché, Daphne reflected afterwards. But she really did want the ground to swallow her up, there and then…
Severus strode to the sitting room from the bedroom in moody silence.
"You're cross," stated the master.
"First prize for stating the obvious, as usual!" Severus spat.
He sat at the piano. And started fiddling about with its keys, and his wand.
"It's going to take longer if you're stood there staring!"
"Why, do I make you nervous?!"
"YES!"
"Good. You deserve to be unhappy, after that little exhibition in there-"
"MY exhibition?! Don't you realise? You've just completely ruined our reputations in front of a bunch of teenagers!"
"You asking me to make an honest man of you, or something?!"
To propose marriage.
"This is no time for pissing about! What was all that business?"
"You started it! 'I may as well do something to deserve it', you said!"
"Well you said something like you would 'give me a good seeing to!'"
Alluding to rough sex.
"After you disrespected me! And you insisted on rushing in with a biting retort. You forgot yourself, Severus!"
Very possibly, the man conceded. In the privacy of his mind-
"You are the one who crossed a line and completely overstepped the mark by imparting that filthy innuendo of yours! Imprinting it on their minds!"
The one concerning ejaculation.
"How the hell are they going to get that out of their heads when they next see us- me? You've just seriously undermined my credibility in the classroom-"
"Half of them are mine already. The other half can choose to join me, or die. As they wish-"
"I thought you said something like you 'permit me my occupation in order that I continue to cultivate and recruit them.' Well? Do you want me to inspire them, or not? How can I, now that I'm surely a laughing stock-"
"Fat lot of good you appear to be doing on that score! You call that recruitment? Inspiring?"
"As I have explained, countless times before: building rapport, a fundamental principle of recruitment, is a very long and delicate processes, requiring months- One cannot simply rush into things!"
"You've known them for years!"
"The Arts are taboo! They think me a murderer! An evil bastard! You must surely see how I must take tentative steps to introduce the Arts-" (the Dark Arts, of course: there were no other arts worth mentioning, as far as the Death Eaters were concerned) "-but I must of course start with the emphasis on the Defence!"
"You had all of last year to do that!"
"Hardly, under Albus's very nose!"
Albus? I thought he was 'Dumbledore' to you?
"Sitting staring into space, you were, on my arrival! Why all this silent note taking?! That's boring! You'll put them off the subject for life!"
What a very great pity that would be...
"They should be enamoured of the Dark Arts! Seduced by them! Forming an orderly queue outside your office to join up! To join me!
I know you can inspire, when you put your mind to it, Severus! I've seen you! That's why I think I f-" He paused, struggling to continue.
"Fff-"
"Yes?"
Fancy- Which is to say, why I think you're my favourite-
He couldn't bring himself to even think such words.
Icky, emotional, nasty, disgusting-
Let alone say them.
"-That's why I have chosen you for the task! Why won't you do what I require?"
"They're all only 15. The Fifth Years you observed, just now. They're too young. Perhaps... When they begin as a group to come of age, come Seventh Year-"
He hoped that this man would be defeated and dead, long before then-
"Are you perhaps having second thoughts? Severus?"
"No of course not, my Lord!"
"Your father tried to beat the magic out of you and your precious mother, don't you forget. If not for me, you might have died! I saved you both! Did I not?"
"I haven't forgotten. What happened."
Not technically a lie.
Nor have I forgotten what followed...
Severus gripped his wand tightly as he suppressed an onslaught of horrible memories.
"I continue to hate what the muggles do to us. How we must hide."
Again, all technically true.
"Please, do not doubt my loyalty. To the cause. Or to you. I remain Politically Pure. I just think they need to be old enough to make an informed decision for themselves. When they can legally enter a contract-"
"You were 14. When you became mine."
"Yes."
"When the process was complete. 13. When you first came to me. These are 15, some 16 already. Explain yourself."
"You often say yourself my Lord that the younger generation is made of less strong stuff than your own." Severus was an accomplished liar, thus all this came to him quickly enough. "Since I was a boy, the youths that have followed my own generation have become... Stagnant. Infantilised. Do you not agree?"
Would he buy that?
"What difference does a year make? 16 now, some of them. Versus 17 then? Explain!"
In espionage terms? A hell of a lot.
The whole game can change in a whole year.
They could, dare Severus hope... Even win the war, in that time.
The Light side.
Wishful thinking, perhaps. But he had to have something to hope for.
That the war would be won. That Voldemort would be gone.
And then what? Without this man... he would be free. To live his life. To do anything!
Or, simply, nothing. As little or as much as he wanted-
"I have decided! You are not to wait until the whole school is approaching 17 to commence seducing and recruiting my minions! From 13 onwards, the Arts are compulsory, from now on. None of this stressing the Defence Against nonsense! Consider that an Official Ministerial Decree! Practical predominantly, none of this textbook copying complete bollocks!"
"They have to pass their exams!" Severus thought desperately of some plausible excuse. "It's very theory-heavy, the syllabus, and you always say your followers must be exceedingly brilliant, academically!"
If Voldemort simply forced all teenagers to join his forces against their will (a very real risk: Severus came to him at 13...): better for his pupils if they showed a complete lack of ability. And made no progress with training. Whether due to fear, resentment, or indifference. If his 'inspiring' efforts (read: calculated inaction), 'laying down the theoretical foundations firmly', could prevent a fascination with the so seductive Arts- His Lord and master might drop them if there was no way that Hogwarts pupils could, in large numbers, reasonably be trained to catch up. To match the abilities and achievements of the likes of Lucius, and himself, back in their day. And if they also got high marks in their written exams by memorising the textbooks- So much the better. Win-win.
"Granted, I do place great value in academics, that is true... They must indeed pass their exams with flying colours, to be respectable. For my organisation to become likewise. More palatable, accepted by the masses. I do not wish to surround myself with ignorami-"
Ignoramuses, Severus corrected, mentally.
"Hence there is some truth in what you say… I shall change the syllabus! And examinations format. I have decided. 60% practical, 40% theory. At most! 70-30, more likely! Or even 80-20!"
I think I just about got away with that… For now. Still. Best move on swiftly from the topic of 'why have I not already made them enamoured of the Arts?'-
"That sounds like a sensible proposal. My Lord. But how on earth will I make any progress with them henceforth?! My standing, character, reputation, such as they were, so little that they were... all now utterly crushed! You come to me in a desperate strop, interrupting my lesson-"
"Oh don't start all that again! 'Twas merely a case of the master asking for his servant!"
'Twas?! Arrogant arse!
"To perform a required service. What could be more ordinary than that? They'd better get used to being at my beck and call, all of them!"
"As of now, I'll have nothing in the way of credibility, neither as Defence Master, nor as Headmaster-"
"You never did. You are merely a figurehead. My puppet, Poppet-"
"And you've revealed yourself to be the incompetent, feckless old fool that you are!"
"Explain."
"The children will have seen that you can't lift a finger for yourself-"
"It is usual for the master to require menial tasks of the servant, is it not?"
"You claim to be the greatest wizard ever to have lived-"
"Does the Lord of the Manor know how to boil an egg?!"
"-yet you can't perform this single, simple spell for yourself-"
"If it's so simple then hurry up and fucking finish it!"
"-The scales will have fallen from their eyes. They won't be afraid of you anymore. Or of us Death Eaters on the staff. You'll be a laughing stock before lunchtime."
The Dark Lord gazed into the distance, sucking an index finger in concentration.
"They won't be afraid of me anymore, you say? Tell me, Severus. Is it scary? Being raped?"
"What?"
"Would you say that that is something that makes one afraid?"
"You have to ask?"
The Dark Lord paced the room.
"I believe that that is the general consensus. That it is, indeed, a frightening thing. From my researches into the theory surrounding the subject. But I should value your opinion on the matter. Since they tell me I am autistic or narcissistic or something of that kind. One or the other or both. I would ask for clarification, for the sake of precision. But I've a rather busy evening scheduled as it is. And it's a tediously dull business, killing a psychiatrist after a session. Every last one of 'em's tried to rationalise it. Or psychoanalyse or- Well. Explain why I'm doing what I'm doing, as if that would lead me to a fit of profound remorse and spare them in the act! An epiphany; seeing the error of my ways, or some such bollocks-"
"You've killed every medical practitioner you've ever consulted?"
"No! Don't be daft, Sniv! Just the shrinks."
The Dark Lord nodded, earnestly.
"The doctors, the generalists, I keep close. As you know."
In various trunks. So they were to hand. If ever he needed them. Just in case.
Servants usually remembered to feed them. And. Clean out the trunks.
At least once a day.
Usually...
"Why? Why kill the psychiatrists?"
"Just a habit, these days. One of my little traditions. Most of them do tend to make me quite cross, though. Very offensive people, shrinks. They way they go about labelling one. 'Narcissistic personality disorder'; 'delusions of grandeur'. I'll stick you in my family's mausoleum! That grand enough for you, ay? Doctor? If you really are a medical doctor and not just a glorified PhD!"
Voldemort shook his fist as he shouted.
"You're threatening the thin air, again. There's no one else here. Just us. You and me."
Voldemort blinked.
"Think I don't know that? You've always thought you're so much better than me, though you try to hide it. Try to, mind! I'm better at occlumency than you all like to think!"
"Well… Quite."
Severus nodded, earnestly.
Thinking of the last time he had had to calm a crazed horse...
Voldemort ran his hand through his hair.
Well. Tried to.
He always forgot he didn't have any anymore.
The thought made him sad. :(
What's a happy thought? Happy thought-
"Oh, yes! Masturbation- no, not not the word I'm after- ah, yes! Molestation! Make sure none of the children laugh, or disrespect me in any way! I don't care a jot if they make fun of you, mind- Oh! I have it! I'll put it about that you are desperately, secretly, passionately in love with me-"
Severus scoffed-
"-And that all that public bickering between us is just to hide your intense obsession with me!"
Why had he emphasised 'me'? Over and above 'obsession'?
And why was his mind jumping hither and thither at a million miles an hour in entirely unrelated directions?
"I'll say you're like that girl in 'Hey, Arnold!'"
"'Hey, Arnold'?! The American children's television programme?"
Voldemort shrugged
"I had a lot of time for telly while I was convalescing with Wormtail."
"So you watched children's cartoons?!"
"Well so did you, at one time, by the sounds of it! Anyway, you know what I mean! You're so in love with me you always have a go, like that girl in the pink dress and pigtails blah blah blah- From the way you're looking at me, I'll have to find a non-muggle reference for comparison, won't I?"
"Absolutely. Though, frankly, the fact that you have any cultural references at your disposal more recent than 1969 somewhat leaves me gobsmacked, in and of itself."
"How can you say that? We listen to Pink Floyd and Queen together! Life didn't stop when the Beatles broke up! Anyway, put it about: anyone laughs about what happened today, I'll ravish him."
Severus stopped smiling.
Voldemort, being from a certain generation, of course, used the third person masculine singular in the gender neutral sense.
"Have my wicked way with him. In front of everyone, in the Great Hall. Since I am told that rape is supposed to be a very frightening thing. So that'll do the trick. Won't it? Since it appears that you're too nervous to even talk about it!"
"But- No one will seriously believe, I mean. There would be witnesses!"
He didn't bother trying to explain how diabolically appalling all that would be. The man would neither know, nor care.
"You'd be in serious trouble. The punishment, the years in Azkaban- Don't you see? Don't even contemplate- Have you lost your self preservation instinct entirely? It's against the law!"
"I am the law, Severus."
"As if the muggle authorities don't need another excuse to look into your affairs- They might at last send in the SAS! Or something!"
The British Army's elite special forces unit. The Special Air Service.
Voldemort shrugged.
"They have no jurisdiction over our domestic affairs. Like the Channel Islands-"
"Do you want to be extradited or- They don't have to do it by the book, you know! There's rendition! Ever heard of Guantanamo? Countless places like it! They kidnap people my Lord and spirit them away overseas!"
"Let 'em try. I'd enjoy an excuse for a real session. A killing spree, if you will."
"Don't wish something like that so lightly!"
"You're just afraid you'll be killed in the crossfire!"
"At least I'm not too proud and stupid to admit it! And what of the Weasley girl?! I thought you wanted her relaxed and comfortable? So she'll talk! If you contemplate even publicly threatening to molest a student-"
"Oh, it'll be fun. She'll be terrified tonight, granted. When she hears the rumours I start about my notorious reputation. The latest ones, I hasten to add. And then she'll be flirting back and laughing at my jokes like a little lamb! It'll be a challenge. I love a challenge!"
He grinned.
"But this is business. She's not here for you to seduce her, right? You don't have time for projects! You must not get distracted from the cause!"
"Severus!" Voldemort's tone was one of mock surprise, and horror. "You sound like you're actually supportive of my methods, and want to keep me on track to achieve the Grand Plan, for once in a blue moon!"
"You know I am passionately opposed to muggle-majority rule and will fight for a wizarding-minority national administration with every ounce of my strength-"
"Quite right, too!"
"-And we back you as you have a reasonable chance of achieving just that. The others and I. I back you. I just wish you'd consider becoming a benevolent dictator, instead of terrorising everybody-"
"'I don't doubt that you are Politically Pure. But this is war. Not dancing classes! Civilian fatalities are a matter of course! As for public punishments… It is much safer to be feared than loved.'"
"I do so hate your habit of quoting Machiavelli at me!"
"And I do so hate your habit of not treating it like the instruction manual that it is! Now move over, man, you've been pretending the piano's still not fixed for ages. I know you think you're oh-so-superior a pianist than me, but I'll bloody well have you know I would have-"
"-become a professional were it not for my passion for politics and the pursuit of power and I'd have been a concert pianist and played at Covent Garden, blah blah blah blah blah, I've heard it all before-"
"You have no ambition, Severus! That's why you're merely my servant! Running around at my beck and call! Performing any and every special service and little favour asked of you-"
Severus tried to block all that out.
Any talk of 'bedroom business', he suppressed.
It was business. Part and parcel of the job. All that.
As far as Voldemort was concerned, that suited him.
The ones who adored and fawned, like Bella. Boring.
The ones he made tremor with terror.
So much the better!
And then there was Severus Snape.
A blank mask.
But a master craftsman can chisel away, create cracks. Chinks.
The master.
That of Severus Snape.
Move over Sherlock Holmes. The Science of Deduction.
The Science of Seduction is by far the more profitable… Or is it an Art? I suppose it is both-
"You do play so beautifully, my love."
Severus had sat back down at the piano.
Voldemort called him pet names. Knowing how much he hated them.
"That's rather a go to piece of yours these days. Isn't it?"
Severus ignored him. Continuing to play.
Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata'. The First Movement.
"I just wish you had aspired to more. It's rather embarrassing. My right-hand man! A mere schoolmaster, still!"
"It's what you wanted!"
"But you could have achieved so much more in the same time! Now, if you had applied to the Royal Academy of Music, then-"
"I'm very good. Excellent, even. But I don't suffer from delusions of grandeur. Unlike some people I could care to mention. I'm not world class-"
"But if you had simply applied yourself, you could have got in!"
"And then what? Become yet another failed musician, begging for any old job I'm not qualified for-"
"You'd have returned to work for me, Severus, obviously!"
"What would have been the point in undertaking the training to become a professional musician if the profession were then barred to me? By you? My peers would have overtaken me shortly after qualifying. I should have then found my skills atrophying-"
"You are under-developed, Severus! Stunted! You have failed to grasp the opportunities I provided to fully develop your faculties and talents!"
"I failed the audition!"
"You didn't even try!"
"I turned up. But you pushed me. I wasn't there for the right reasons. My heart wasn't in it!"
"Yet every other task I've set you, before or since, you have accomplished. Why that sudden fit of failure, way back when?"
"Psychology is very important in music-"
"Don't bloody remind me of psychology! And psychologists! Psychiatrists! Always been prisoner to your emotions, you have! And where has that led you? Enthralled with muggles and mudbloods-"
-Severus was sorely tempted to curse the man at the grossly offensive slur-
"-You've become a failure of a man! An embarrassment to me, as I say. A mere Professor of Potions!"
"Defence Against the Dark Arts!"
"It amounts to the same thing!"
"It's the job that you've always wanted! And never got!"
"My coming to Hogwarts for work was cover for something else! A much higher, nobler purpose! To recruit soldiers for my army! Throw off the shackles of the Statute of Secrecy! What's your excuse?"
"I got the job you had me apply for," Severus growled.
"And you were never promoted-"
"-I was made Head of House!"
"-not for years and years!"
Severus Snape gave no reply.
"I had such high hopes for you, Severus! You made some excuse about it being too complicated, at the time. The Royal Academy. But there's simply no reason why you couldn't have gone to conservatoire by day before returning to me of an evening-"
Severus snorted, in derision, and disgust. The very idea! If he had deluded himself into thinking he had had freedom, hanging about with other young people by day, outside of the oppressive darkness and despair of the Death Eater circles he had found himself immersed in-
Returning to all that after a day of blissful freedom, every day. Every night, for three, four years, from the age of 17, 18-
It would have been unbearable.
Even worse than simply continuing to endure that miserable existence.
Only, was it a miserable existence, way back then?
Or was he perhaps, retrospectively, indulging in wishful thinking? Failing to correctly recollect? Admonishing himself? For having enjoyed his early Death Eater days so much-
The Dark Lord had whispered. As they stood. Alone. Close. In the dark. In his study. By the light of that bright, full moon.
On that cloudless October night at Malfoy Manor...
'The two of ussss, Sseverusss... Imagine it... Such power!... Magic... Might!... Think what we will achieve... Sssside by sssside...
Together!'
And then…
Soft skin.
Caresses.
The kisses-
"You should have gone to conservatoire!"
Severus was snapped from his reverie-
"I'd have trained you in the evenings, to keep your magic up to scratch! And now, where are we?
Those who can't do, teach, Severus. Yes, you cultivated Slytherins for me to recruit, at first-"
"I recruited them for you!"
"It's the same thing, isn't it? The point being- You never asked for anything more! And you could have gone on to do anything after I- Went away. Yet I come back. And here you are! Same old school. Same old job! You're a failure of a wizard, Severus. Of a man. Totally lacking in ambition-"
"We were going to rule! Together! You promised me- You made me your Number Two! How much more ambitious could I get that than?! Obviously I wasn't going to aim for the top spot, that would have been suicide!"
"I would have aimed for the top. In your position. Now, if you had expressed a thought in that direction, only for me to put you in your place- now that would have been something!"
"Maybe I'm just a better occlumens then you!"
"WHAT?!"
"I- That is to say-"
He had come so close to jeopardising his work for the Order. For the Security Service. He could not do so again, under any circumstances!
Severus smiled, ruefully.
"I suppose I am now the one guilty of delusions of grandeur."
"Quite."
The man was so easy to manipulate- If only he knew.
Would he then respect Severus's talents?
Don't be daft!
Fancy risking everything. The entire operation. The mission. Even contemplating it!
Just to massage his own ego. The very thought! Telling the man he spied on how clever he was at all that spying. Just for a kind word, for a change!
As if he were even capable of kindness! As if he wouldn't murder me horribly in response...
"And then I went away. And you neither came for me, in hope that I might have lived. Nor made anything of yourself, thinking me gone."
How could I move on? After you were gone?
All that they had seen together. Achieved together!
Done together...
"Well? What's your explanation? Do you like the teaching profession?"
"No of course not!"
"Then why did you enter it?"
"Because you made me, to recruit the next generation, you said-"
"Why did you not make something of yourself? When I went away. Why did I not return to find my little servant Severus Headmaster of Hogwarts?"
"With Dumbledore still in post? And my past?"
"Minister for Magic, then?! It's what you always wanted! Isn't it?"
As Severus had told. When he was recruited. Mentored.
Manipulated-
"Get a tutoring job over the summer, you said! Oh, that was good for the CV, you thought about what to do next? After you finish Hogwarts, you could just teach for a year, you know! More experience, bit of money to tie you over! Throw yourself into preparing for those exams! Well I did prepare for them, I worked bloody hard. You wouldn't even let me take those damned Ministry entrance exams, in the end!"
"You always did exactly as you were told. You never questioned. You never rebelled. That is why you are the servant. And I am the master! Your master!
AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!"
That's hardly likely to be possible.
"How could I have rebelled? I didn't have a death wish! In those days! Once I got in, once you got me, marked me, once the charm offensives stopped. Only then did I realise-"
"That's your fault entirely, Severus. Don't blame me. Never mistake friendliness for friendship. In politics, in business. Especially not in our line."
"I was 14 when I took- 13 when we met- I- I trusted you! Believed you! You and me against the world, kid, and all that!"
What teen wouldn't be ripe for recruitment? In the face of such suggestions?
The Science of Seduction…
"It was all so…The promises. You spoke of injustice. The wizards were enslaved. Miserable. Had been for so long. We were going to bring happiness. Freedom. Prosperity. For all! For ourselves… You called me your Number Two! I pledged my life to you!"
"And you seriously believed that I would really make a little boy second in command?"
"Not there and then, perhaps, but one day- Since you took the time to scout me out, cultivate my talents- I took you at your word. We both made Vows!"
"And my knowledge of the law, and the loopholes, was far superior to yours, of course. There was never any remote risk of my losing my life for yours.
As for the rest: I have no Number Two, really. I never have had. Or, I have had a great many. Who were all equally easily led. It all rather depends on one's perspective!"
"You told- Who else? Lucius?"
"Naturally."
"Even... Wormtail?"
"I quite understand your incredulity, Severus. But yes: even he! Utterly useless in every respect though he may be!"
"It wasn't incredulity," Severus muttered.
"Hmmmmmm?"
"You wouldn't understand. What it is to feel betrayed. Hurt."
"And I very much hope never to do so. Fortunately, however, that is most unlikely to ever happen! Since I am not afflicted with that which is useless, such as feeling burdened by irritating human sentiments!"
"You're a fucking dalek, you are! You can only hate. Hurt. Kill."
"Why thank you, Severus. You flatter me!"
Severus scoffed.
Yet again. It was not obvious whether or not the man was joking...
"Resume playing! I am in a good mood once more. Divert us both, dear!"
Severus shut his eyes, exhaled.
Adjusted his mask, mentally.
Since, even he had to admit, it had slipped. Ever so slightly…
And began to play…
The Moonlight Sonata...
"We've already had the First Movement! Do you even know the next one by rote?!"
"It's my favourite," replied Severus, defensively.
"Is it? Or are you just covering up your inadequacies? Play the next one, damn it!"
"I prefer this."
"You play it over and over. It takes all of five, six minutes. It's so damned repetitive. Move on, man!"
"It's soothing. I like it!"
"Well I don't!"
"Well then perhaps that's why I like it all the more!"
"Maybe you really don't know the rest of the piece. I heard you attempt the 3rd Movement, once. Once only, mind!"
"It is beyond even the stuff of Grade 8, the Third-"
"Well then you should have let me pay for you to go to that damned conservatoire!"
"I can play it. As it happens. I have taught myself- I can at least bash out the notes, run through it. But it needs a lot of work, naturally. I don't like you listening when I'm practising tricky stuff! You make me nervous: I make mistakes!"
"I'm not there all the time! You have many hours in the day in which you could practise!"
As far as Voldemort knew.
He thought of his sundry spymasters...
"You stand there staring, while I'm completely oblivious. Then you start talking to me when you've been staring at me invisible all the while!"
"Stop talking and do as I say! Play the Third! You're not nearly fast enough! You need to practise! NOW! The fault is all mine. I ought to have insisted on conservatoire. On your attending. I was a fool. In those days I considered that you would not be happy, if I had confunded the entrance examiners and forced you to go. To be finished."
The Dark Lord regarded the Royal Academy, Britain's finest musical establishment, without rival as… some sort of a finishing school? For Death Eaters?!
"I judged that you would have been unhappy if forced to attend-"
"Since when have you ever bloody-well cared about whether I'm happy?!"
"-AND! Correspondingly. You should have been resentful. And unproductive-"
"Bloody typical!"
"-I have since learnt the power of brute force, intimidation, threats and control. Over and above the 'so called' benefits of self determination. Of allowing my servants a choice. Since I have perfected the Art of Intimidation."
Severus tried to block all this out.
I can play the Third Movement. And the Second. That's Grade 7. I can play that one well! When I don't think he may be watching. Waiting. To criticise…
"What are the consequences of my lapse of judgement? Of my indulgently allowing you a choice, once upon a time?"
One choice. In how many years?
Severus focused on the fingering. Imagining it in his head.
C3# to start then-
"I have here in my presence, as a result, an indifferent musician- a middle aged musician! Who turns out the same old party pieces that a youth with Grades 5 or 6 could play prettily enough! So childish!"
Oh bugger, forget it. Fuck's sake! He's right! I am too slow. These days. For lack of practice…
"You have disappointed me."
"At least I play from memory! Learn by rote!"
"Nothing special."
"You use the scores!"
"Dictionary definition of Severus Snape: lacking in ambition. And an indifferent musician! And that is perhaps only if one were to be extremely generous! Why have you wasted your life away man on the same silly little, trifling absurdities? Absurd circumstances?!"
Severus slammed the lid of the piano shut-
"Why indeed!"
He rose from the piano-
"I didn't say you could leave!"
-and stormed off to the bedroom.
"You're not dismissed, you know?!"
Voldemort ran after him.
Severus rummaged though his draws.
"Come back and play!" the Dark Lord whined.
"You're right-"
"-I know I am!"
He had found the whisky. Bottom right draw. The fresh bottle.
"I am a failure."
He unscrewed the lid.
"Tell me something I don't know!"
"I've thrown my life away. For you. And-"
Severus stopped himself. From going on aloud.
"And?"
And Albus. And the Order. And bloody MI-fucking-5!
He had been about to say...
"And I don't have anything to show for it," he completed, instead.
He'd be a much better musician, he knew, if he played for at least twenty hours a week. At the very least.
Easily enough done. Since most people vegetated for four hours a night in front of the telly, give or take.
But he spent about as long as that, if not more, on his espionage activities.
Saving others' lives.
It was noble. It was decent.
It was a reward in and of itself.
He was proud of his work. Good at his work!
He had no life outside of work… He lived to work.
He had nothing to show for it.
Publicly.
The Science of Espionage… Therein lay the way to alcoholism. To introspection…
Looking over one's shoulder. Always.
He had nothing to show for his accomplishments… Nothing to look forward to.
Always overlooked. Abused.
The things he'd been reduced to, to spy on Voldemort at his most vulnerable, in his intimate moments-
For Albus.
Now everyone thought he had murdered his old friend and colleague- Called him callous. Cold. Calculating.
And so much worse...
That Bastard Butcher. Snape the Slaughterer.
That had stung, in particular...
They loathed him almost as much as he loathed himself. All of them. His students. His colleagues. Friends. Former friends.
What was it all for? The instructions of a man who had left him in the lurch.
"Trust me, Severus." Albus had said.
Those very same words… Which the Dark Lord had uttered. Sincerely.
He had thought that they were sincere...
When he was barely bigger than a boy.
Severus raised the bottle.
He thought about making a speech. Then thought better of it.
I suppose, on some level... I've always known I would take secrets to my grave.
I suppose… it doesn't much matter when.
He nodded, and then gesticulated with the bottle, raised it. As if giving a toast. To his lover's good health.
"Bye, then."
He began to drink.
"Severus. What are you doing?!"
He leaned back against the dressing table, continuing to drink. In measured gulps.
"That's a fresh bottle, for Christ's sake! It's full!"
Still Severus would not cease and desist.
"If you down a whole bottle of whisky, you could die!"
Severus paused.
"I know," he whispered. For the second time that afternoon.
He resumed drinking.
"Just stop. STOP IT! NOW!"
Severus Snape made to get up from the dressing table stool-
"Thank God!"
-and promptly collapsed to the floor...
A/N:
Again, if you would like to hear the piece Severus played, I recommend the version of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata by Rousseau, on Youtube. As I can't save the hyperlink here just go on the website as usual and add this: /watch?v=4591dCHe_sE
First Movement about 7 minutes long, whole thing under 18mins, well worth a listen: it's especially lovely.
Poor, poor Severus. One can only begin to imagine what he's suffered... But I have a feeling he's a fighter really, deep down, and not going to be beaten yet.
Coming up tomorrow: 'Saving Severus Snape'.
Sorry, yesterday I meant to just read twice for typos and then kept adding more, I gave up at 1:30am my time, knowing I'd either never sleep if I kept going or it would go out full of errors if I didn't do a proper final proofread (if I read twice and there are no mistakes or additions that I can spot I publish, if I keep adding more even though I thought it was finished days ago then... That's why times are not always the same but it's because it's better as a result, I hope). So apologies for missing it yesterday after promising an update then but I hope it was decent enough to be worth the wait.
If you like me are a bit down after that bleak note to end on: I added some stuff about Ginny's dress, her storming out and swearing at Snape mentally, and also Voldemort's knife name choice and how it comes Sherlock Holmes explained, there's also him breaking into James Bond, into singing a title song. I just happened to read it all yesterday, the story so far, looking for typos and more just came as an extension of one or two corrections... Those are quite nice and upbeat sections, if you want to go back! (Obviously I'm not ordering you about like Voldemort, though! You do have a choice!)
Method acting as a method of writing fanfic... Not something I recommend others copy! And this writing spree is supposed to be a refreshing break in lieu of a holiday, as we're not allowed to leave the UK during covid! Ah well. Let's just say I'm looking forward to someone saving Severus! (And, at last, my linner/ dunch! Whither I doth wonder now! It's just gone 10:00pm UK time so I'll come back later and add here the chapters where the few new bits are).
(Edit: I did promise I'd come back with the the new story bits, didn't I? Little new bits from those who have read in order from day 1 who won't have seen a few additions: Ginny's dress robes ch. 1 described, Ginny swears a bit about Snape while leaving the classroom; ch. 3 has a bit more on Voldy's knife, its name and the reason for it; plus singing some James Bond).
Pretty please consider leaving a review if you have any opinion at all: good, meh, alright, plot/ pairing request, whatever! ;) Cheers, lads and lasses, in advance.
Hope you're all well! Thanks so much for reading. Thank you ever so much to my first two subscribers to the story, that is so kind and good of you both, I won't name you in case you're shy but I am so glad to see people reading along and interested in this story and a public endorsement so early is even better than I could hope for, just so rewarding and nice, thank you so much again for following :)
See you tomorrow for the next chapter! I'll do my best to make it a good'un! x
Much love and special shout out to a certain special Slytherclaw correspondent! (And if you have a better method than method writing, which no doubt you do, please tell me what it is some time!)