VIII.
It should have been obvious, Severus knew. He should have seen the wanderlust in Cecil's eyes. He had squeezed her life into the Hogwarts grounds for the past fourteen years... why shouldn't she want something more?
But he should have seen it before now, before it had been so blatantly pointed out to him. He was, after all, the one person who supposedly knew her best, the person who had raised her since she was two. He had bloody taken the place of the father and mother he had all but murdered.
So how could he not have seen it in her eyes?
Cecil had not asked him again to leave Hogwarts, but he could now see the question lingering in her eyes, hesitating on her lips, always there but never voiced. He was not accustomed to not giving her what she wanted. It had always been easy for the child to pry some privilege or treat from him with just a request, a simple begging in her blue eyes. It made him realize how weak he really was when it came to her.
So if she asked... he would go. He would leave the quiet safety of Hogwarts and live out in the wizarding world, vulnerable. He would do it for her.
That knowledge didn't make for many peaceful dreams. The nightmares had been growing worse as of late, haunted by Voldemort, and sometimes by Lucius. In his dreams they chased him, hunted him, and he was running, clutching a small child once again. And in the dreams they would corner him and suddenly, Cecil would be walking towards Voldemort... looking up at the twisted Dark Lord and saying 'Daddy.'
Those dreams were the reason he began constantly brewing potions for dreamless sleep. But sleep without dreams was not nearly so restful, which was probably why the circles under his eyes had been growing steadily darker for a straight week.
He'd oh-so-briefly, in a moment of extreme mental abstraction, considered going to Sybil Trelawny for her claimed dream analysis, but had just as quickly decided against it. Trelawny was a bloody fraud, he knew that much. And even if she wasn't, he quickly concluded that he did not want to know what his dreams meant.
And so a month passed in this way, with him waking each morning still exhausted. He lived on his own version of Pepperup Potions- one that did NOT cause your ears to smoke, thank Merlin.
He was slipping, he knew, allowing students in his classes to get away with far more than he had ever allowed while he sat silently at his desk, pretending to mark papers while his mind drifted a million miles away. In fact, he hadn't deducted a single point in a week.
A sigh escaped his lips. This had to end... somehow. But he wasn't quite sure how.
That is until late one night while reading, Dumbledore's head appeared in his fire, the flames licking merrily at his long beard. "Good evening, Severus. I wasn't sure if you would still be awake."
He laid the book down. "I couldn't sleep, Headmaster."
"Good, good... I have some news to share with you, Severus."
Snape studied Dumbledore's face. It was a strange mixture of happiness and sorrow. "News?"
"Yes... would you come up to my office so that we can talk?"
He nodded curtly. "Certainly."
"I'm much obliged. The password is 'woolly knee-highs,' I believe. I'll be seeing you shortly."
The head disappeared at once, and Severus rose, replacing the book on the shelf and checking his customary wards over Cecil before exiting his rooms and making his way swiftly down the corridors. What on earth did Dumbledore want? He rarely called meetings in the middle of the night, and it was nearing two o'clock in the morning. He stifled a yawn as he muttered, "Woolly knee-highs."
* * *
Snape was a bit surprised to see the entire faculty gathered in Dumbledore's office. He squeezed in the door and took his place in the back corner. Albus noticed him. "Ah, Severus, thank you for joining us on such short notice."
It must have been short notice for the rest of them as well. Minerva's hair was done up in curlers under a hair net, and Binns was still wearing his slippers beneath his robes. Snape nodded to the others in greeting before leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.
Dumbledore rubbed his hands together. "Now that we are all here, we can begin. I have great news for all of you... just in from the Minister of Magic himself. However, with the good comes the bad." His blue eyes went from person to person, making eye contact with everyone in the room before continuing. "Voldemort," here several of the teachers cringed, "is, as far as we can tell... dead."
Silence hung thick in the room as the information took a few seconds to digest. Then, it seemed as if everyone was talking at once.
"Dead, you say? Why..."
"...know how? I didn't think he could be..."
"I say, it must have been some bloody powerful magic that done..."
"... quite sure, dead? I don't quite bel..."
"What does this mean? That it's over? I can't quite comprehend..."
"... never thought I'd live to see the..."
Severus and Albus seemed to be the only ones not speaking. Snape's black eyes met Albus' in a silent discourse. Voldemort was dead. That meant that the Death Eaters would have been dispersed... Lucius would be captured or in hiding, which left Severus...
Free.
A rather solid lump formed in his throat. After fourteen years, he wouldn't have to hide anymore... wouldn't have to jump at a flash of blonde hair or a loud noise... wouldn't have to face the nightmares.
He hardly heard as Albus went on to say that the Potters were dead, that Voldemort had died as a result of their infant boy. Nothing else mattered right now.
He was free.
END CHAPTER EIGHT
Note: Sorry this took so darn long. My muse is obstinate and has been rather obsessed with slash. *shakes head* I don't understand her, but I don't even bother to try. As long as she keeps the inspiration coming.
In response to beatrice2005, I'm not really specifically basing my story off of either, though it's probably leaning a little more towards the movie, since I haven't finished the book quite yet. Working on it... but there isn't really much time to read a 1500 page book in the little time I do have. And in reply to your second question, and to Tegan's question, Cecil is quite a bit older than Harry & Co. I was originally going to have them be the same age, but... *shrugs* the story keeps getting a mind of its own. Again, blame my muse, if you want to.
It should have been obvious, Severus knew. He should have seen the wanderlust in Cecil's eyes. He had squeezed her life into the Hogwarts grounds for the past fourteen years... why shouldn't she want something more?
But he should have seen it before now, before it had been so blatantly pointed out to him. He was, after all, the one person who supposedly knew her best, the person who had raised her since she was two. He had bloody taken the place of the father and mother he had all but murdered.
So how could he not have seen it in her eyes?
Cecil had not asked him again to leave Hogwarts, but he could now see the question lingering in her eyes, hesitating on her lips, always there but never voiced. He was not accustomed to not giving her what she wanted. It had always been easy for the child to pry some privilege or treat from him with just a request, a simple begging in her blue eyes. It made him realize how weak he really was when it came to her.
So if she asked... he would go. He would leave the quiet safety of Hogwarts and live out in the wizarding world, vulnerable. He would do it for her.
That knowledge didn't make for many peaceful dreams. The nightmares had been growing worse as of late, haunted by Voldemort, and sometimes by Lucius. In his dreams they chased him, hunted him, and he was running, clutching a small child once again. And in the dreams they would corner him and suddenly, Cecil would be walking towards Voldemort... looking up at the twisted Dark Lord and saying 'Daddy.'
Those dreams were the reason he began constantly brewing potions for dreamless sleep. But sleep without dreams was not nearly so restful, which was probably why the circles under his eyes had been growing steadily darker for a straight week.
He'd oh-so-briefly, in a moment of extreme mental abstraction, considered going to Sybil Trelawny for her claimed dream analysis, but had just as quickly decided against it. Trelawny was a bloody fraud, he knew that much. And even if she wasn't, he quickly concluded that he did not want to know what his dreams meant.
And so a month passed in this way, with him waking each morning still exhausted. He lived on his own version of Pepperup Potions- one that did NOT cause your ears to smoke, thank Merlin.
He was slipping, he knew, allowing students in his classes to get away with far more than he had ever allowed while he sat silently at his desk, pretending to mark papers while his mind drifted a million miles away. In fact, he hadn't deducted a single point in a week.
A sigh escaped his lips. This had to end... somehow. But he wasn't quite sure how.
That is until late one night while reading, Dumbledore's head appeared in his fire, the flames licking merrily at his long beard. "Good evening, Severus. I wasn't sure if you would still be awake."
He laid the book down. "I couldn't sleep, Headmaster."
"Good, good... I have some news to share with you, Severus."
Snape studied Dumbledore's face. It was a strange mixture of happiness and sorrow. "News?"
"Yes... would you come up to my office so that we can talk?"
He nodded curtly. "Certainly."
"I'm much obliged. The password is 'woolly knee-highs,' I believe. I'll be seeing you shortly."
The head disappeared at once, and Severus rose, replacing the book on the shelf and checking his customary wards over Cecil before exiting his rooms and making his way swiftly down the corridors. What on earth did Dumbledore want? He rarely called meetings in the middle of the night, and it was nearing two o'clock in the morning. He stifled a yawn as he muttered, "Woolly knee-highs."
* * *
Snape was a bit surprised to see the entire faculty gathered in Dumbledore's office. He squeezed in the door and took his place in the back corner. Albus noticed him. "Ah, Severus, thank you for joining us on such short notice."
It must have been short notice for the rest of them as well. Minerva's hair was done up in curlers under a hair net, and Binns was still wearing his slippers beneath his robes. Snape nodded to the others in greeting before leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.
Dumbledore rubbed his hands together. "Now that we are all here, we can begin. I have great news for all of you... just in from the Minister of Magic himself. However, with the good comes the bad." His blue eyes went from person to person, making eye contact with everyone in the room before continuing. "Voldemort," here several of the teachers cringed, "is, as far as we can tell... dead."
Silence hung thick in the room as the information took a few seconds to digest. Then, it seemed as if everyone was talking at once.
"Dead, you say? Why..."
"...know how? I didn't think he could be..."
"I say, it must have been some bloody powerful magic that done..."
"... quite sure, dead? I don't quite bel..."
"What does this mean? That it's over? I can't quite comprehend..."
"... never thought I'd live to see the..."
Severus and Albus seemed to be the only ones not speaking. Snape's black eyes met Albus' in a silent discourse. Voldemort was dead. That meant that the Death Eaters would have been dispersed... Lucius would be captured or in hiding, which left Severus...
Free.
A rather solid lump formed in his throat. After fourteen years, he wouldn't have to hide anymore... wouldn't have to jump at a flash of blonde hair or a loud noise... wouldn't have to face the nightmares.
He hardly heard as Albus went on to say that the Potters were dead, that Voldemort had died as a result of their infant boy. Nothing else mattered right now.
He was free.
END CHAPTER EIGHT
Note: Sorry this took so darn long. My muse is obstinate and has been rather obsessed with slash. *shakes head* I don't understand her, but I don't even bother to try. As long as she keeps the inspiration coming.
In response to beatrice2005, I'm not really specifically basing my story off of either, though it's probably leaning a little more towards the movie, since I haven't finished the book quite yet. Working on it... but there isn't really much time to read a 1500 page book in the little time I do have. And in reply to your second question, and to Tegan's question, Cecil is quite a bit older than Harry & Co. I was originally going to have them be the same age, but... *shrugs* the story keeps getting a mind of its own. Again, blame my muse, if you want to.