I'm Drunk On Lace and Afraid of The Rain
Chapter Four - The Spawn Of My Enemy
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Se...Severus?"
I tried to ignore the small voice that pleaded for my attention as I moved the meat around on my plate, taking turns between stabbing it and dramatically impaling it into my mashed potatoes. I had discovered that food was quite fun even when you had no appetite.
"Severus?" the little voice inquired again.
I lifted the slab with my fork and violently smashed it into a multitude of green beans, sending green debris flying across the table. Unfortunately, the green bean discard destination happened to be the eyeglasses of one Minerva McGonagall.
"Severus," Harry Potter whispered, poking my side.
"SEVERUS," Minerva ground out.
"Severus, my boy!" Professor Dumbledore cheerfully interjected. A moment of silence ensued and at the alienated stares of the staff, (and the scathing look of Minerva), the eccentric old man added, "Erm, perhaps you should eat your food rather than play with it, Severus. You're setting a rather crude example for young Harry."
If looks could kill, McGonagall would have offed me quite some time ago. I had the grace to duck my head and shove the piece of meat in my mouth.
"Severus," the unrelenting little bastard tried once more.
"What?" I snapped, flashing him a delectable view of my half-masticated meal. To my satisfaction, he cringed and slumped into his chair, looking thoroughly defeated.
"Severus..." McGonagall warned., looking pointedly at the boy.
I sighed, dropped my fork noisily to my plate, and slumped into my own chair. "I meant...what can I do for you, Harry?"
The boy's eyes widened and I could barely contain myself from screaming at the irony when he gazed at me with unadulterated adoration. I glared impatiently back, until he crooked his index finger, gesturing me to lean over. "Will you take me to the bathroom?"
Oh, THIS was rich.
"Fine," I grumbled, rising to my feet and plucking the child out of his chair. "Lovely meal. Send my regards to the house elves," I sneered at my colleagues, shifting the annoying child into a more comfortable position in my arms.
"He's yours tonight, Severus," the insufferable old headmaster reminded me. "Treat him well."
"Right," I muttered, striding purposefully and rapidly out of the Great Hall. The boy was beginning to squirm and I must say that I was not intrigued by the idea of Harry Potter pissing on me.
"Down, down!" he squealed when we reached the nearest bathroom, running quickly into a stall as soon I half-set him/ half-dropped him to the ground. I waited for what must have been five minutes after hearing him relieve himself.
"If you're quite done-"I started, raising my wand to open the door.
I stopped abruptly when I heard the childish sobs coming from inside. The spawn of James Potter was SOBBING in a stall of the boys' bathroom. I retract my earlier statement...THIS was RICH.
"What's wrong?" I demanded.
"N-nothing!" he choked.
"Come out here," I said. "I don't feel like spending the night in this bloody bathroom."
"N...no," he eventually managed. "I can't. You'll be angry."
I sighed. Although I loathe to admit it, the sound of his small, quavering voice tugged at my heartstrings. Heartstrings! This was just too much.
"I won't be angry," I sighed.
"Y-you won't?"he asked.
"I won't," I repeated.
"You promise?" At the sound of my snort, he exclaimed, "Severus! You HAVE to promise!"
"Whatever. I promise," I grumbled. At his hesitant silence, I lightheartedly added, "Now get your little bum out here before I'm forced to subject the mirrors to my inner hostilities." "SEVERUS!" he cried.
Well...I thought it was lighthearted, anyway.
He slowly opened the door and with a bowed head, walked out. It was just as I had suspected - his little trousers were soaked with urine. By the messy stall he left in his wake, I assumed that he had been attempting to dry himself off in those additional minutes.
"Merlin, why did you wait so long?" I asked.
"You wouldn't pay attention to me!" he replied defensively.
I grinned. "Oh, yeah." I really had been brilliant at supper that night - while inadvertently assaulting Minerva with green beans, I had also managed to completely ignore Harry Potter's apparent distress.
That's when it happened - Harry Potter started to cry again.
At the sight of those huge tears running down his little face, I wanted to break all the mirrors in the bathroom. Instead, I reluctantly extended my hand and said, "Right. Let's go get you cleaned up then."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Am I correct in assuming that you can bathe yourself?"
Please say yes, please say yes...
"I think so," the boy said shyly, watching as I drew his bath.
"Good," I said, sticking my elbow in the water to check the temperature. Once satisfied with its warmth, I added, "I'll be in the living room. Don't drown."
After leaving the boy to his devices, I fled to the living room and checked underneath the sofa cushions, sighing in relief when I felt the cool glass of the heavy bottle against my palm.
"Thank Merlin," I murmured. Babysitting Harry Potter until the next morning was too trying a task to accomplish without the sweet helpfulness of firewhiskey. I uncorked the bottle as quietly and quickly as I could; brought the mouth to my lips; and sank into the deep, intoxicating kiss of my one true love: alcohol.
"Severus?"
The boy was staring at me in fear; naked, wet and trembling.
"...Harry?"
"You d-didn't leave me a t-towel," he stuttered, backing against the wall.
"Right. Sorry," I muttered, getting up to retrieve a towel from the bathroom- but when I attempted to wrap it around him, he flinched violently and cried out. "What in the bloody hell's wrong with you?" I asked curiously.
"Y-your....drinking the bad stuff," he whimpered. "Y-you'll...hurt me..."
I raised an eyebrow. Hurt him? Alcohol is a savior! Not a poison!
"Hey, look at me," I said to his downcast eyes. When he raised the gaze, I sighed and said, "If I didn't dangle you by your ankles out of the Astronomy Tower, there's no way in Hell I'll overexert myself in the act of beating you." I held out my hand, which he hesitantly took.
After leading him to the couch, I set the spawn of my enemy upon my lap and placed the bottle of firewhiskey in his hands. "Have a taste."
I must be insane.
"B-but..."
"Just a sip," I said.
He had a taste...a taste that was immediately spat back out on my hand.
"Gross!" he wrinkled up his face and looked up at me. "Severus, you shouldn't drink this. It's bad for you and it tastes bad."
"What do you know..." I grumbled, snatching my firewhiskey back possessively. To think, I let the unappreciative little wretch drink from my beloved...
"Uncle Vernon drank it," the boy replied, his eyes welling up for the millionth time that day. "It made him hate magic even more."
Bloody Hell....
I groaned inwardly, feeling him begin to shake on my lap. This was too much. Why did I have to deal with a traumatized child? Why ME? All I wanted to do was drink my firewhiskey and make my potions and be known universally as "bad news". But no...I haven't even accomplished THAT yet.
"Fine," I snapped. "Don't bloody cry." I picked him up with one arm, walked to the kitchen, and poured my love down the drain. "See? All gone."
The boy broke into a wide smile and threw his arms around my neck.
"All gone," he chirped happily.
"All gone," I repeated, hastily attempting to blink away my tears.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Se...Severus?"
I tried to ignore the small voice that pleaded for my attention as I moved the meat around on my plate, taking turns between stabbing it and dramatically impaling it into my mashed potatoes. I had discovered that food was quite fun even when you had no appetite.
"Severus?" the little voice inquired again.
I lifted the slab with my fork and violently smashed it into a multitude of green beans, sending green debris flying across the table. Unfortunately, the green bean discard destination happened to be the eyeglasses of one Minerva McGonagall.
"Severus," Harry Potter whispered, poking my side.
"SEVERUS," Minerva ground out.
"Severus, my boy!" Professor Dumbledore cheerfully interjected. A moment of silence ensued and at the alienated stares of the staff, (and the scathing look of Minerva), the eccentric old man added, "Erm, perhaps you should eat your food rather than play with it, Severus. You're setting a rather crude example for young Harry."
If looks could kill, McGonagall would have offed me quite some time ago. I had the grace to duck my head and shove the piece of meat in my mouth.
"Severus," the unrelenting little bastard tried once more.
"What?" I snapped, flashing him a delectable view of my half-masticated meal. To my satisfaction, he cringed and slumped into his chair, looking thoroughly defeated.
"Severus..." McGonagall warned., looking pointedly at the boy.
I sighed, dropped my fork noisily to my plate, and slumped into my own chair. "I meant...what can I do for you, Harry?"
The boy's eyes widened and I could barely contain myself from screaming at the irony when he gazed at me with unadulterated adoration. I glared impatiently back, until he crooked his index finger, gesturing me to lean over. "Will you take me to the bathroom?"
Oh, THIS was rich.
"Fine," I grumbled, rising to my feet and plucking the child out of his chair. "Lovely meal. Send my regards to the house elves," I sneered at my colleagues, shifting the annoying child into a more comfortable position in my arms.
"He's yours tonight, Severus," the insufferable old headmaster reminded me. "Treat him well."
"Right," I muttered, striding purposefully and rapidly out of the Great Hall. The boy was beginning to squirm and I must say that I was not intrigued by the idea of Harry Potter pissing on me.
"Down, down!" he squealed when we reached the nearest bathroom, running quickly into a stall as soon I half-set him/ half-dropped him to the ground. I waited for what must have been five minutes after hearing him relieve himself.
"If you're quite done-"I started, raising my wand to open the door.
I stopped abruptly when I heard the childish sobs coming from inside. The spawn of James Potter was SOBBING in a stall of the boys' bathroom. I retract my earlier statement...THIS was RICH.
"What's wrong?" I demanded.
"N-nothing!" he choked.
"Come out here," I said. "I don't feel like spending the night in this bloody bathroom."
"N...no," he eventually managed. "I can't. You'll be angry."
I sighed. Although I loathe to admit it, the sound of his small, quavering voice tugged at my heartstrings. Heartstrings! This was just too much.
"I won't be angry," I sighed.
"Y-you won't?"he asked.
"I won't," I repeated.
"You promise?" At the sound of my snort, he exclaimed, "Severus! You HAVE to promise!"
"Whatever. I promise," I grumbled. At his hesitant silence, I lightheartedly added, "Now get your little bum out here before I'm forced to subject the mirrors to my inner hostilities." "SEVERUS!" he cried.
Well...I thought it was lighthearted, anyway.
He slowly opened the door and with a bowed head, walked out. It was just as I had suspected - his little trousers were soaked with urine. By the messy stall he left in his wake, I assumed that he had been attempting to dry himself off in those additional minutes.
"Merlin, why did you wait so long?" I asked.
"You wouldn't pay attention to me!" he replied defensively.
I grinned. "Oh, yeah." I really had been brilliant at supper that night - while inadvertently assaulting Minerva with green beans, I had also managed to completely ignore Harry Potter's apparent distress.
That's when it happened - Harry Potter started to cry again.
At the sight of those huge tears running down his little face, I wanted to break all the mirrors in the bathroom. Instead, I reluctantly extended my hand and said, "Right. Let's go get you cleaned up then."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Am I correct in assuming that you can bathe yourself?"
Please say yes, please say yes...
"I think so," the boy said shyly, watching as I drew his bath.
"Good," I said, sticking my elbow in the water to check the temperature. Once satisfied with its warmth, I added, "I'll be in the living room. Don't drown."
After leaving the boy to his devices, I fled to the living room and checked underneath the sofa cushions, sighing in relief when I felt the cool glass of the heavy bottle against my palm.
"Thank Merlin," I murmured. Babysitting Harry Potter until the next morning was too trying a task to accomplish without the sweet helpfulness of firewhiskey. I uncorked the bottle as quietly and quickly as I could; brought the mouth to my lips; and sank into the deep, intoxicating kiss of my one true love: alcohol.
"Severus?"
The boy was staring at me in fear; naked, wet and trembling.
"...Harry?"
"You d-didn't leave me a t-towel," he stuttered, backing against the wall.
"Right. Sorry," I muttered, getting up to retrieve a towel from the bathroom- but when I attempted to wrap it around him, he flinched violently and cried out. "What in the bloody hell's wrong with you?" I asked curiously.
"Y-your....drinking the bad stuff," he whimpered. "Y-you'll...hurt me..."
I raised an eyebrow. Hurt him? Alcohol is a savior! Not a poison!
"Hey, look at me," I said to his downcast eyes. When he raised the gaze, I sighed and said, "If I didn't dangle you by your ankles out of the Astronomy Tower, there's no way in Hell I'll overexert myself in the act of beating you." I held out my hand, which he hesitantly took.
After leading him to the couch, I set the spawn of my enemy upon my lap and placed the bottle of firewhiskey in his hands. "Have a taste."
I must be insane.
"B-but..."
"Just a sip," I said.
He had a taste...a taste that was immediately spat back out on my hand.
"Gross!" he wrinkled up his face and looked up at me. "Severus, you shouldn't drink this. It's bad for you and it tastes bad."
"What do you know..." I grumbled, snatching my firewhiskey back possessively. To think, I let the unappreciative little wretch drink from my beloved...
"Uncle Vernon drank it," the boy replied, his eyes welling up for the millionth time that day. "It made him hate magic even more."
Bloody Hell....
I groaned inwardly, feeling him begin to shake on my lap. This was too much. Why did I have to deal with a traumatized child? Why ME? All I wanted to do was drink my firewhiskey and make my potions and be known universally as "bad news". But no...I haven't even accomplished THAT yet.
"Fine," I snapped. "Don't bloody cry." I picked him up with one arm, walked to the kitchen, and poured my love down the drain. "See? All gone."
The boy broke into a wide smile and threw his arms around my neck.
"All gone," he chirped happily.
"All gone," I repeated, hastily attempting to blink away my tears.