Chapter 8
Questions
Snape stood at the window of a third floor classroom, and watched Draco's carriage depart, destined for Malfoy Manor. There, Draco's more would be elegantly upset; always elegant, Narcissa. She was a firm unbeliever in vulgarity. She had always struck Snape as neurotic, but he considered the fact that he could just dislike her because of Lucius. Or Draco. Both? He shrugged. The carriage was disappearing up the road now. It would soon be out of sight. What did Draco think of him? What was he in his eyes? Just some lonely old man, in desperate need of a fuck? Or did Draco actually have feelings for him? One more bend, and the carriage would vanish from view. Did Draco know how, he, Snape, felt about him? Would he write? He would have to, with the funeral dates, but what else would he say? There. It disappeared, gone, vanished, departed. What was Draco thinking now? Snape stood at the window for a long time, questions streaming through is head, questions that he couldn't answer, questions that were driving him slowly mad. The room grew cold. Snape didn't notice; he lived down in the dungeons, he didn't notice the cold. Night started to fall, and still Snape didn't move, transfixed by the road, that last bend where the carriage had become obscured from view. Did Draco know he cared? Did he, himself, care? Or was it just because of Draco's resemblance to Lucius. . . "Severus?" A voice asked gently. Dumbledore. He hadn't heard him come in. Snape sighed inwardly. He didn't need sympathy and understanding now. He needed answers. "Questions won't bring him back, you know." Snape froze. How had Dumbledore known that he was. . .no, he must be referring to Lucius. He MUST be. He turned slowly, to see Dumbledore sitting on a desk. "I know. I know that they won't help, but it's. . ." Snape was lost. Questions about Lucius that he had banished that morning flooded his mind. Who killed him? WHO? Why? How? Snape turned back to the window, to hide his face from Dumbledore. "What will you do now?" "Who knows? I don't." Snape knew he was being vague. He had to be. Dumbledore was to sharp, to quick of the mark; he didn't know about him and Lucius, and Snape wanted it to stay like that. But one slip of the tongue. . .Dumbledore would pick it up. He had to be vague. "If I were you, I'd decide pretty quickly. Are you going to his funeral?" "If you don't have any objections, yes." What did he mean, decide pretty quickly? It didn't make sense. "You can't dwell on it forever. You have to move on, Severus." Ah yes, thought Snape, Dumbledore, the mind reader. At least he knew what he meant now. "It's hard not to dwell though, you must understand! He was my friend, my only friend for so long. . ." Stop it! He told himself sharply. Your dropping hints like lose change from a pocket full of holes! Fortunately, Dumbledore seemed not to notice. "Have you talked to Draco about this?" Snape was prepared for this one. "Yes. I talked to him a little after class." Blank, bland answer. "Was he. . .very upset, or. . .?" The question hung in the air. Snape thought furiously to get a decent answer. "He was probably more upset than he let on. I don't know, I'm not very good at . . .reading people." There. That would be acceptable. "hmm. . ." mused Dumbledore. There was a pause. Snape considered asking what Draco had said to Dumbledore at lunch, but refrained; he didn't know whether he was supposed to know about it. Dumbledore continued, a little hesitantly. "Did he say anything about. . .not saying anything to anyone?" Snape fought not to let his panic show. He stayed string out of the window and tried his best to sound innocently curious. "Not saying anything to anyone? No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?" " Oh, no reason, no reason. . .just something he said that didn't make sense." Was he hinting at something? Had Draco told him? Was this Dumbledore trying to get a confession from him? "May I ask what it was that he said?" Snape became aware that he was gripping the stone window sill so hard that his knuckles were white. He relaxed his grip a little. " Yes, I suppose you can. . .he had just left my office; he hadn't closed the door properly. And then. . .he must have stood on the landing there, and said, to himself, I think, 'You mustn't say a word to anyone', and then left. I was just wondering if it made any more sense to you than me." Snape relaxed a little more. "No. . .I don't think. . .although it might have been something Lu. . .his father had said to him?" It was easier to think of Draco of having a father that Snape had never met, rather than Lucius. Dumbledore seemed to consider his reply. "Must be it, I think. I can't see how it would fit in anywhere else." Snape risked looking back at Dumbledore. "Was there. . ." His voice caught. He turned back to the window and stared out again. Calm down, he told himself. "Was there any clue to who murder. . .killed Lucius?" There. He had asked it. There was a pause as Dumbledore thought about this. "No. There wasn't. Must have been someone he knew, as there was no sign of a fight. Killed in a muggle way, a dagger through the heart. I'm sorry. Of course, the officials are looking into the matter now. Don't worry. Who ever did it will be caught." Whoever did it would be caught! Whoever did it was a man to watch, if he was sly enough, good enough to get round Lucius. They wouldn't be caught. Who could have done it, though? Snape cast his mind back to think of the people who had really, really hated Lucius. There were quite a few. "Don't dwell on it, Severus. Move on. You must move on," Dumbledore's voice intoned, interrupting his thoughts. "I know." He did as well. It was just a matter of taking his own advice. "What did Draco say?" He may as well ask, since Dumbledore had made it clear that Draco had visited him "He was. . .very bland. Unemotional. Like you said, feeling a lot more underneath, but not showing anything." Conversation stopped, but both men stayed and made no effort to leave. What did Dumbledore know? What did he think he knew? More questions. "You had a fall out with Lucius a few years, before Draco started Hogwarts, didn't you?" Dumbledore asked, out of the blue. Snape was startled. Did Dumbledore know about him and Lucius? Questions, so many god-damn questions, so many god-damn lies. "No, we just. . . drifted, I suppose." There was another pause. Snape turned to face Dumbledore again. "A lot of people are under the impression that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. . .?" the ageing Headmaster probed carefully. Including Potter, added Snape in the privacy of his own head. Dumbledore thought he'd split? Suspense and expectation lay heavy in the air. "They are?" He asked innocently. Dumbledore really thought he was going to betray Lucius like that? Not bloody likely, they had made a deal, and Lucius had never broken it. Nor would he, in return. Dumbledore sighed. "I thought you'd say that. Never mind," he said, and stood up from the desk. Snape checked his watch. Nine thirty. Draco's carriage had left at eight. "I'm going to bed," announced Dumbledore. Thanks for that, thought Snape. Now we all know. He quickly banished the image of Dumbledore in bed. "And I'd advise you to do the same. Goodnight." Dumbledore finished, and left the room. Snape stood, a little lost and very tired. With one last glance out of the window, he left also, and went down to his lonely abode in the dungeons.
Questions
Snape stood at the window of a third floor classroom, and watched Draco's carriage depart, destined for Malfoy Manor. There, Draco's more would be elegantly upset; always elegant, Narcissa. She was a firm unbeliever in vulgarity. She had always struck Snape as neurotic, but he considered the fact that he could just dislike her because of Lucius. Or Draco. Both? He shrugged. The carriage was disappearing up the road now. It would soon be out of sight. What did Draco think of him? What was he in his eyes? Just some lonely old man, in desperate need of a fuck? Or did Draco actually have feelings for him? One more bend, and the carriage would vanish from view. Did Draco know how, he, Snape, felt about him? Would he write? He would have to, with the funeral dates, but what else would he say? There. It disappeared, gone, vanished, departed. What was Draco thinking now? Snape stood at the window for a long time, questions streaming through is head, questions that he couldn't answer, questions that were driving him slowly mad. The room grew cold. Snape didn't notice; he lived down in the dungeons, he didn't notice the cold. Night started to fall, and still Snape didn't move, transfixed by the road, that last bend where the carriage had become obscured from view. Did Draco know he cared? Did he, himself, care? Or was it just because of Draco's resemblance to Lucius. . . "Severus?" A voice asked gently. Dumbledore. He hadn't heard him come in. Snape sighed inwardly. He didn't need sympathy and understanding now. He needed answers. "Questions won't bring him back, you know." Snape froze. How had Dumbledore known that he was. . .no, he must be referring to Lucius. He MUST be. He turned slowly, to see Dumbledore sitting on a desk. "I know. I know that they won't help, but it's. . ." Snape was lost. Questions about Lucius that he had banished that morning flooded his mind. Who killed him? WHO? Why? How? Snape turned back to the window, to hide his face from Dumbledore. "What will you do now?" "Who knows? I don't." Snape knew he was being vague. He had to be. Dumbledore was to sharp, to quick of the mark; he didn't know about him and Lucius, and Snape wanted it to stay like that. But one slip of the tongue. . .Dumbledore would pick it up. He had to be vague. "If I were you, I'd decide pretty quickly. Are you going to his funeral?" "If you don't have any objections, yes." What did he mean, decide pretty quickly? It didn't make sense. "You can't dwell on it forever. You have to move on, Severus." Ah yes, thought Snape, Dumbledore, the mind reader. At least he knew what he meant now. "It's hard not to dwell though, you must understand! He was my friend, my only friend for so long. . ." Stop it! He told himself sharply. Your dropping hints like lose change from a pocket full of holes! Fortunately, Dumbledore seemed not to notice. "Have you talked to Draco about this?" Snape was prepared for this one. "Yes. I talked to him a little after class." Blank, bland answer. "Was he. . .very upset, or. . .?" The question hung in the air. Snape thought furiously to get a decent answer. "He was probably more upset than he let on. I don't know, I'm not very good at . . .reading people." There. That would be acceptable. "hmm. . ." mused Dumbledore. There was a pause. Snape considered asking what Draco had said to Dumbledore at lunch, but refrained; he didn't know whether he was supposed to know about it. Dumbledore continued, a little hesitantly. "Did he say anything about. . .not saying anything to anyone?" Snape fought not to let his panic show. He stayed string out of the window and tried his best to sound innocently curious. "Not saying anything to anyone? No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?" " Oh, no reason, no reason. . .just something he said that didn't make sense." Was he hinting at something? Had Draco told him? Was this Dumbledore trying to get a confession from him? "May I ask what it was that he said?" Snape became aware that he was gripping the stone window sill so hard that his knuckles were white. He relaxed his grip a little. " Yes, I suppose you can. . .he had just left my office; he hadn't closed the door properly. And then. . .he must have stood on the landing there, and said, to himself, I think, 'You mustn't say a word to anyone', and then left. I was just wondering if it made any more sense to you than me." Snape relaxed a little more. "No. . .I don't think. . .although it might have been something Lu. . .his father had said to him?" It was easier to think of Draco of having a father that Snape had never met, rather than Lucius. Dumbledore seemed to consider his reply. "Must be it, I think. I can't see how it would fit in anywhere else." Snape risked looking back at Dumbledore. "Was there. . ." His voice caught. He turned back to the window and stared out again. Calm down, he told himself. "Was there any clue to who murder. . .killed Lucius?" There. He had asked it. There was a pause as Dumbledore thought about this. "No. There wasn't. Must have been someone he knew, as there was no sign of a fight. Killed in a muggle way, a dagger through the heart. I'm sorry. Of course, the officials are looking into the matter now. Don't worry. Who ever did it will be caught." Whoever did it would be caught! Whoever did it was a man to watch, if he was sly enough, good enough to get round Lucius. They wouldn't be caught. Who could have done it, though? Snape cast his mind back to think of the people who had really, really hated Lucius. There were quite a few. "Don't dwell on it, Severus. Move on. You must move on," Dumbledore's voice intoned, interrupting his thoughts. "I know." He did as well. It was just a matter of taking his own advice. "What did Draco say?" He may as well ask, since Dumbledore had made it clear that Draco had visited him "He was. . .very bland. Unemotional. Like you said, feeling a lot more underneath, but not showing anything." Conversation stopped, but both men stayed and made no effort to leave. What did Dumbledore know? What did he think he knew? More questions. "You had a fall out with Lucius a few years, before Draco started Hogwarts, didn't you?" Dumbledore asked, out of the blue. Snape was startled. Did Dumbledore know about him and Lucius? Questions, so many god-damn questions, so many god-damn lies. "No, we just. . . drifted, I suppose." There was another pause. Snape turned to face Dumbledore again. "A lot of people are under the impression that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. . .?" the ageing Headmaster probed carefully. Including Potter, added Snape in the privacy of his own head. Dumbledore thought he'd split? Suspense and expectation lay heavy in the air. "They are?" He asked innocently. Dumbledore really thought he was going to betray Lucius like that? Not bloody likely, they had made a deal, and Lucius had never broken it. Nor would he, in return. Dumbledore sighed. "I thought you'd say that. Never mind," he said, and stood up from the desk. Snape checked his watch. Nine thirty. Draco's carriage had left at eight. "I'm going to bed," announced Dumbledore. Thanks for that, thought Snape. Now we all know. He quickly banished the image of Dumbledore in bed. "And I'd advise you to do the same. Goodnight." Dumbledore finished, and left the room. Snape stood, a little lost and very tired. With one last glance out of the window, he left also, and went down to his lonely abode in the dungeons.